The Wide, Wide World. Warner Susan
communication with a flat vessel sitting on the fire, in which Ellen soon discovered all this noisy and odorous cooking was going on. A tall tin coffee-pot stood on some coals in the corner of the fireplace, and another little iron vessel in front also claimed a share of Miss Fortune's attention, for she every now and then leaned forward to give a stir to whatever was in it, making each time quite a spasmodic effort to do so, without quitting her hold of the end of the long handle. Ellen drew near, and looked on with great curiosity, and not a little appetite; but Miss Fortune was far too busy to give her more than a passing glance. At length the hissing pan was brought to the hearth for some new arrangement of its contents, and Ellen seized the moment of peace and quiet to say, "Good morning, Aunt Fortune."
Miss Fortune was crouching by the pan, turning her slices of pork. "How do you do this morning?" she answered, without looking up.
Ellen replied she felt a great deal better.
"Slept warm, did you?" said Miss Fortune, as she set the pan back on the fire. And Ellen could hardly answer. "Quite warm, Maam," when the hissing and sputtering began again, as loud as ever.
"I must wait," thought Ellen, "till this is over, before I say what I want to. I can't scream out to ask for a basin and towel."
In a few minutes the pan was removed from the fire, and Miss Fortune went on to take out the brown slices of nicely-fried pork and arrange them in a deep dish, leaving a small quantity of clear fat in the pan. Ellen, who was greatly interested, and observing every step most attentively, settled in her own mind that certainly this would be thrown away, being fit for nothing but the pigs. But Miss Fortune didn't think so, for she darted into some pantry close by, and returning with a cup of cream in her hand, emptied it all into the pork fat. Then she ran into the pantry again for a little round tin box, with a cover full of holes, and shaking this gently over the pan, a fine white shower of flour fell upon the cream. The pan was then replaced on the fire and stirred; and, to Ellen's astonishment, the whole changed, as if by magic, to a thick, stiff, white froth. It was not till Miss Fortune was carefully pouring this over the fried slices in the dish, that Ellen suddenly recollected that breakfast was ready, and she was not.
"Aunt Fortune," she said, timidly, "I haven't washed yet there's no basin in my room."
Miss Fortune made no answer, nor gave any sign of hearing; she went on dishing up breakfast. Ellen waited a few minutes.
"Will you please, Maam, to show me where I can wash myself."
"Yes," said Miss Fortune, suddenly standing erect, "you'll have to go down to the spout."
"The spout, Maam," said Ellen, "what's that?"
"You'll know it when you see it, I guess," answered her aunt, again stooping over her preparations. But in another moment she arose and said, "Just open that door there behind you, and go down the stairs and out at the door, and you'll see where it is, and what it is too."
Ellen still lingered. "Would you be so good as to give me a towel, Maam," she said, timidly.
Miss Fortune dashed past her and out of another door, whence she presently returned with a clean towel, which she threw over Ellen's arm, and then went back to her work.
Opening the door by which she had first seen her aunt enter the night before, Ellen went down a steep flight of steps, and found herself in a lower kitchen, intended for common purposes. It seemed not to be used at all at least there was no fire there, and a cellar-like feeling and smell instead. That was no wonder, for beyond the fireplace on the left hand was the opening to the cellar, which, running under the other part of the house, was on a level with this kitchen. It had no furniture but a table and two chairs. The thick, heavy door stood open. Passing out, Ellen looked around for water in what shape or form it was to present itself she had no very clear idea. She soon spied, a few yards distant, a little stream of water pouring from the end of a pipe or trough raised about a foot and a half from the ground; and a well- worn path leading to it, left no doubt of its being "the spout." But when she had reached it, Ellen was in no small puzzle as to how she should manage. The water was clear and bright, and poured very fast into a shallow wooden trough underneath, whence it ran off into the meadow and disappeared.
"But what shall I do without a basin?" thought Ellen; "I can't catch any water in my hands, it runs too fast. If I only could get my face under there that would be fine!"
Very carefully and cautiously she tried it, but the continual spattering of the water had made the board on which she stood so slippery, that before her face could reach the stream, she came very near tumbling headlong, and so taking more of a cold bath than she wished for. So she contented herself with the drops her hands could bring to her face a scanty supply; but those drops were deliciously cold and fresh. And afterwards she pleased herself with holding her hands in the running water till they were red with the cold. On the whole, Ellen enjoyed her washing very much. The morning air came playing about her; its cool breath was on her cheek, with health in its touch. The early sun was shining on tree, and meadow, and hill; the long shadows stretched over the grass, and the very brown outhouses looked bright. She thought it was the loveliest place she had ever seen. And that sparkling, trickling water was certainly the purest and sweetest she had ever tasted. Where could it come from? It poured from a small trough, made of the split trunk of a tree, with a little groove or channel, two inches wide, hollowed out in it. But at the end of one of these troughs, another lapped on, and another at the end of that; and how many there were, Ellen could not see, nor where the beginning of them was. Ellen stood gazing and wondering, drinking in the fresh air, hope and spirits rising every minute, when she suddenly recollected breakfast! She hurried in. As she expected, her aunt was at the table; but to her surprise, and not at all to her gratification, there was Mr. Van Brunt at the other end of it, eating away, very much at home indeed. In silent dismay, Ellen drew her chair to the side of the table.
"Did you find the spout?" asked Miss Fortune.
"Yes, Maam."
"Well, how do you like it?"
"Oh, I like it very much indeed," said Ellen. "I think it is beautiful."
Miss Fortune's face rather softened at this, and she gave Ellen an abundant supply of all that was on the table. Her journey, the bracing air, and her cool morning wash, altogether, had made Ellen very sharp, and she did justice to the breakfast. She thought never was coffee so good as this country coffee; nor anything so excellent as the brown bread and butter, both as sweet as bread and butter could be; neither was any cookery so entirely satisfactory as Miss Fortune's fried pork and potatoes. Yet her teaspoon was not silver; her knife could not boast of being either sharp or bright; and her fork was certainly made for anything else in the world but comfort and convenience, being of only two prongs, and those so far apart that Ellen had no small difficulty to carry the potato safely from her plate to her mouth. It mattered nothing; she was now looking on the bright side of things, and all this only made her breakfast taste the sweeter.
Ellen rose from the table when she had finished, and stood a few minutes thoughtfully by the fire.
"Aunt Fortune," she said at length, timidly, "if you've no objection, I should like to go and take a good look all about."
"Oh, yes," said Miss Fortune, "go where you like; I'll give you a week to do what you please with yourself."
"Thank you, Maam," said Ellen, as she ran off for her bonnet; "a week's a long time. I suppose," thought she, "I shall go to school at the end of that."
Returning quickly with her white bonnet, Ellen opened the heavy kitchen door by which she had entered last night, and went out. She found herself in a kind of long shed. It had very rough walls and floor, and overhead showed the brown beams and rafters; two little windows and a door were on the side. All manner of rubbish lay there, especially at the further end. There was scattered about and piled up various boxes, boards, farming and garden tools, old pieces of rope and sheepskin, old iron, a cheese-press, and what not. Ellen did not stay long to look, but went out to find something pleasanter. A few yards from the shed door was the little gate through which she had stumbled in the dark, and outside of that Ellen stood still a while. It was a fair, pleasant day, and the country scene she