Our Frank

Our Frank, by Amy Walton

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Title: Our Frank and other stories
Author: Amy Walton
Illustrator: RP
Release Date: October 20, 2007 [EBook #23114]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OUR
FRANK ***

Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England

Our Frank
and other stories
by Amy Walton.

STORY ONE, CHAPTER 1.
OUR FRANK--A BUCKINGHAMSHIRE STORY.
"From east to west, At home is best." German proverb.
It was a mild spring evening, and Mrs Frank Darvell was toiling slowly
up Whiteleaf Hill on her way back from market. She had walked every
step of the way there to sell her ducklings, and now the basket on her
arm was heavy with the weight of various small grocery packets. Up
till now she had not felt so tired, partly because she had been walking
along the level high-road, and partly because the way had been
beguiled by the chat of a friend; but after she had said good-night to her
crony at the beginning of the village, and turned up the steep chalky
road which led to the hills, her fatigue increased with every step, and
the basket seemed heavier than ever. It was a very lonely mile she had
to go before reaching home; up and up wound the rough white road,
and then gave a sudden turn and ran along level a little while with dark
woods on either side. Then up again, steeper than ever, till you reached
the top of the hill, and on one side saw the plain beneath, dotted over
with villages and church spires, and on the other hand wide sloping
beech woods, which were just now delicately green with their young
spring leaves.
Mrs Darvell set her basket down on the ground when she reached this
point, and drew a long breath; the worst of the walk was over now, and
she thought with relief how good it would be to pull off her boots, and
hoped that Frank had not forgotten to have the kettle on for tea. She
presently trudged on again with renewed spirits, and in ten minutes
more the faint blue smoke from a chimney caught her eye; that was
neighbour Gunn's cottage, and their own was close by. "And right
thankful I be," said Mrs Darvell to herself as she unlatched the little
garden gate.
The cottage was one of a small lonely cluster standing on the edge of
an enormous beech wood. Not so very long ago the wood had covered

the whole place; but gradually a clearing had been made, the ground
cultivated, and a little settlement had sprung up, which was known as
"Green Highlands." It belonged to the parish of Danecross, a village in
the plain below, three good miles away; so that for church, school, and
public-house the people had to descend the long hill up which Mrs
Darvell had just struggled. Shops there were none, even in Danecross,
and for these they had to go a mile further, to the market-town of
Daylesbury. But all this was not such a hardship to the people of Green
Highlands as might be supposed, and many of them would not have
changed their cottage on the hill for one in the village on the plain; for
the air of Green Highlands was good, the children "fierce," which in
those parts means healthy and strong, and everyone possessed a piece
of garden big enough to grow vegetables and accommodate a family
pig.
So the people, though poor, were contented, and had a more prosperous
well-to-do air than some of the Danecross folk, who received higher
wages and lived in the valley.
The room Mrs Frank Darvell entered with a heavy, tired tread was a
good-sized kitchen, one end of which was entirely occupied by a huge
open fireplace without any grate; on the hearth burned and crackled a
bright little wood-fire, the flames of which played merrily round a big
black kettle hung on a chain. A little checked curtain hung from the
mantel-shelf to keep away the draught which rushed down the wide
open chimney, on each side of which was a straight-backed wooden
settle. The dark smoke-dried rafters were evidently used as larder and
storehouse, for all manner of things hung from them, such as a side of
bacon, tallow dips, and a pair of clogs. Two or three pieces of oak
furniture, brought to a high state of polish by Mrs Darvell's