An Old Fashioned Thanksgiving Page #2

How is your mother?

-Very well.

-She must be dreadful.

Such a... A robust husband stolen from her

in the prime of life.

It`s late.

Do give her my best.

What a pity they live

in such wretched circumstances.

They would otherwise be good company.

Now I am so often alone.

Good sir, hello. It is l, Mathilda Bassett.

Inspired by your great words

and noble countenance to ask for help.

I have done all that is in my power

to save my family.

Without some intervention

we are sure to lose what little we have left.

I make no frivolous petition.

In return for your aid I am prepared

to become your postulant,

sacrificing my creature comforts entirely

and devoting my life and writing to

the pursuit of nothing but beauty and truth.

Tilly! What are you doing? Come inside!

Whatever possessed you?

Papa put in potatoes last year.

Tilly, we won`t starve.

Our storage bins are empty.

I`m working and so are you.

There must be more than just us,

some relatives we could ask for assistance?

Your father`s family is in lreland.

What about yours?

They`re still alive, aren`t they?

Some bargains are too costly to make.

I`ve spent many hours trying

to unravel the mystery of my mother.

One thing I know about her past was

that she at one time owned a skittish horse.

That is how she met my father, Ellis Bassett.

She was trapped under a bridge

in Central Park,

unable to get the terrified beast to move

until, happening upon them,

my father began singing to it in Gaelic.

According to him,

by the time they got home he had proposed.

Years later, my father revealed

that his songs were actually off-color jokes,

the horse, like my mother,

being badly in need of a good laugh.

Wake up.

Wake up, Tilly! There`s been an accident.

They sent for Mother.

Dr. Boland`s away on holiday.

Perhaps if you kept more reasonable hours

you wouldn`t find it so difficult

to rouse yourself.

I`m awake most mornings

before Prudence or Solomon.

Mathilda Bassett.

Look! Look at all the dresses.

Mary Bassett. Thank goodness,

someone who knows what to do.

-ls anyone hurt?

-The coachman.

Where are you hurt? Your wrist?

Stand back now! Clear the way. Stay back.

She`s like a queen.

-How is it?

-l`m worried about that axle.

It could take a few days.

Oh, well, that`s all right.

I`m here to visit my daughter.

Your daughter? Well, who would that be?

That would be me.

Chapter Two. Pandora`s Box.

Containing, among other things

a great many dresses,

a strained reunion and a fox.

You know what they say?

After a society lady wears a dress once,

she throws it away.

Don`t be silly.

If she`s so well off,

I don`t see why she can`t find a place to stay.

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