Autumn

Robert Nathan
Autumn

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Title: Autumn
Author: Robert Nathan

Release Date: March 30, 2006 [eBook #18079]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK
AUTUMN***
E-text prepared by Al Haines

AUTUMN
by
ROBERT NATHAN

New York Robert M. McBride & Company Copyright, 1921 by Robert
M. McBride & Company

TO D. M. N., AND TO OUR
FRIEND HERBERT FEIS

CONTENTS
CHAPTER
I
Mrs. Grumble II School Lets Out III The Barlys IV Mr. Jeminy Builds
A house Out of Boxes V Rain VI Harvest VII Mrs. Grumble Goes to
the Fair VIII The Turn of the Year IX The Schoolmaster Leaves
Hillsboro, His Work There Seemingly at an End X But He is Sought
After All XI And is Found in Good Hands XII Mrs. Wicket

I
MRS. GRUMBLE
On Sunday the church bells of Hillsboro rang out across the ripening
fields with a grave and holy sound, and again at evening knocked
faintly, with quiet sorrow, at doors where children watched for the first
star, to make their wishes. Night came, and to the croaking of frogs, the
moon rose over Barly Hill. In the early morning the grass, still wet with
dew, chilled the bare toes of urchins on their way to school where, until
four o'clock, the tranquil voice of Mr. Jeminy disputed with the hum of
bees, and the far off clink of the blacksmith's forge in the village.

At four o'clock Mr. Jeminy, with a sigh, gathered his books together.
He sighed because he was old, and because the day's work was done.
He arose from his seat, and taking up his stick, passed out between the
benches and went slowly down the road.
It was a warm spring day; the air was drowsy and filled with the scent
of flowers. A thrush sang in the woods, where Mr. Jeminy heard before
him the light voices of children. He thought: "How happy they are."
And he smiled at his own fancies which, like himself, were timid and
kind.
But gradually, as the afternoon shadows began to lengthen, he grew sad.
It seemed to him as if the world, strange and contrary during the day,
were again as it used to be when he was young.
When he crossed the wooden bridge over Barly Water, the minnows,
frightened, fled away in shoals. Mr. Jeminy turned down toward the
village, where he had an errand to attend to. As his footsteps died away,
the minnows swam back again, as though nothing had happened. One,
larger than the rest, found a piece of bread which had fallen into the
water. "This is my bread," he said, and gazed angrily at his friends, who
were trying to bite him. "I deserve this bread," he added.
Old Mr. Frye kept the general store in Hillsboro, and ran the post office.
It was easy to see that he was an honest man; he kept his shop tidy, and
was sour to everybody. Through his square spectacles he saw his
neighbors in the form of fruits, vegetables, stick pins, and pieces of
calico. Of Mr. Jeminy he used to say: "Sweet apples, but small, very
small; small and sweet."
"Yes," said Farmer Barly, "but just tell me, who wants small apples?"
Mr. Frye nodded his head. "Ah, that's it," he agreed.
At that moment Mr. Jeminy himself entered the store. "I'd like to buy a
pencil," he said. "The pencil I have in mind," he explained, "is soft, and
writes easily, but has no eraser."

"There you are," said the storekeeper; "that's five cents."
"I used to pay four," said Mr. Jeminy, looking for the extra penny.
"Well, perhaps you did," said Mr. Frye, "but prices are very high now."
And he moved away to register the sale.
Farmer Barly, who was a member of the school board, cleared his
throat, and blew on his nose. "Hem," he remarked. "Good-day."
"Good-day," said Mr. Jeminy politely, and went out of the store with
his pencil. Left to themselves, Mr. Frye and Mr. Barly began to discuss
him. "Jeminy is growing old," said Mr. Frye, with a shake of his head.
Mr. Barly, although stupid, liked to be direct. "I was brought up on plus
and minus," he said, "and I've yet to meet the man who can get the
better of me. Now what do you think of that, Mr. Frye?"
Mr. Frye looked up, down, and around; then he began to polish his
spectacles.
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