This passage is excerpted from L.M. Montgomery, “The Gossip of Valley View,” originally published in 1910.
It was the first of April, and Julius Barrett, aged fourteen,
perched on his father’s gatepost, watched ruefully the low
descending sun, and counted that day lost. He had not
succeeded in “fooling” a single person, although he had tried
repeatedly. One and all, old and young, of his intended victims
had been too wary for Julius. Hence, Julius was disgusted and
ready for anything in the way of a stratagem or a spoil.
The Barrett gatepost topped the highest hill in Valley View.
Julius could see the entire settlement, from “Young” Thomas
Everett’s farm, a mile to the west, to Adelia Williams’s
weather-grey little house on a moonrise slope to the east. He
was gazing moodily down the muddy road when Dan Chester,
homeward bound from the post office, came riding sloppily
along on his grey mare and pulled up by the Barrett gate to
hand a paper to Julius. Dan was a young man who took life and
himself very seriously. He seldom smiled, never joked, and had
a Washingtonian reputation for veracity. Dan had never told a
conscious falsehood in his life; he never even exaggerated.
Julius, beholding Dan’s solemn face, was seized with a
perfectly irresistible desire to “fool” him. At the same moment
his eye caught the dazzling reflection of the setting sun on the
windows of Adelia Williams’s house, and he had an inspiration
little short of diabolical. “Have you heard the news, Dan?” he
asked.
“No, what is it?” asked Dan.
“I dunno’s I ought to tell it,” said Julius reflectively. “It’s
kind of a family affair, but then Adelia didn’t say not to, and
anyway it’ll be all over the place soon. So I’ll tell you, Dan, if
you’ll promise never to tell who told you. Adelia Williams and
Young Thomas Everett are going to be married.”
Julius delivered himself of this tremendous lie with a
transparently earnest countenance. Yet Dan, credulous as he
was, could not believe it all at once.
“Git out,” he said.
“It’s true, ‘pon my word,” protested Julius. “Adelia was up
last night and told Ma all about it. Ma’s her cousin, you know.
The wedding is to be in June, and Adelia asked Ma to help her
get her quilts and things ready.”
Julius reeled all this off so glibly that Dan finally believed
the story, despite the fact that the people thus coupled together
in prospective matrimony were the very last people in Valley
View who could have been expected to marry each other.
Young Thomas was a confirmed bachelor of fifty, and Adelia
Williams was forty; they were not supposed to be even well
acquainted, as the Everetts and the Williamses had never been
very friendly, although no open feud existed between them.
Nevertheless, in view of Julius’s circumstantial statements,
the amazing news must be true, and Dan was instantly agog to
carry it further. Julius watched Dan and the grey mare out of
sight, fairly writhing with ecstasy. Oh, but Dan had been easy!
The story would be all over Valley View in twenty-four hours.
Julius laughed until he came near to falling off the gatepost.
At this point Julius and Danny drop out of our story, and
Young Thomas enters.
It was two days later when Young Thomas heard that he was
to be married to Adelia Williams in June. Eben Clark, the
blacksmith, told him when he went to the forge to get his horse
shod. Young Thomas laughed his big jolly laugh. Valley View
gossip had been marrying him off for the last thirty years,
although never before to Adelia Williams.
“It’s news to me,” he said tolerantly.
Eben grinned broadly. “Ah, you can’t bluff it off like that,
Tom,” he said. “The news came too straight this time. Well, I
was glad to hear it, although I was mighty surprised. I never
thought of you and Adelia. But she’s a fine little woman and
will make you a capital wife.”
Young Thomas grunted and drove away. He had a good deal
of business to do that day, involving calls at various places—
the store for molasses, the mill for flour, Jim Bentley’s for seed
grain, the doctor’s for toothache drops for his housekeeper, the
post office for mail—and at each and every place he was joked
about his approaching marriage. In the end it rather annoyed
Young Thomas. He drove home at last in what was for him
something of a temper. How on earth had that fool story
started? With such detailed circumstantiality of rugs and quilts,
too? Adelia Williams must be going to marry somebody, and
the Valley View gossips, unable to locate the man, had guessed
Young Thomas.
It was the first of April, and Julius Barrett, aged fourteen,
perched on his father’s gatepost, watched ruefully the low
descending sun, and counted that day lost. He had not
succeeded in “fooling” a single person, although he had tried
repeatedly. One and all, old and young, of his intended victims
had been too wary for Julius. Hence, Julius was disgusted and
ready for anything in the way of a stratagem or a spoil.
The Barrett gatepost topped the highest hill in Valley View.
Julius could see the entire settlement, from “Young” Thomas
Everett’s farm, a mile to the west, to Adelia Williams’s
weather-grey little house on a moonrise slope to the east. He
was gazing moodily down the muddy road when Dan Chester,
homeward bound from the post office, came riding sloppily
along on his grey mare and pulled up by the Barrett gate to
hand a paper to Julius. Dan was a young man who took life and
himself very seriously. He seldom smiled, never joked, and had
a Washingtonian reputation for veracity. Dan had never told a
conscious falsehood in his life; he never even exaggerated.
Julius, beholding Dan’s solemn face, was seized with a
perfectly irresistible desire to “fool” him. At the same moment
his eye caught the dazzling reflection of the setting sun on the
windows of Adelia Williams’s house, and he had an inspiration
little short of diabolical. “Have you heard the news, Dan?” he
asked.
“No, what is it?” asked Dan.
“I dunno’s I ought to tell it,” said Julius reflectively. “It’s
kind of a family affair, but then Adelia didn’t say not to, and
anyway it’ll be all over the place soon. So I’ll tell you, Dan, if
you’ll promise never to tell who told you. Adelia Williams and
Young Thomas Everett are going to be married.”
Julius delivered himself of this tremendous lie with a
transparently earnest countenance. Yet Dan, credulous as he
was, could not believe it all at once.
“Git out,” he said.
“It’s true, ‘pon my word,” protested Julius. “Adelia was up
last night and told Ma all about it. Ma’s her cousin, you know.
The wedding is to be in June, and Adelia asked Ma to help her
get her quilts and things ready.”
Julius reeled all this off so glibly that Dan finally believed
the story, despite the fact that the people thus coupled together
in prospective matrimony were the very last people in Valley
View who could have been expected to marry each other.
Young Thomas was a confirmed bachelor of fifty, and Adelia
Williams was forty; they were not supposed to be even well
acquainted, as the Everetts and the Williamses had never been
very friendly, although no open feud existed between them.
Nevertheless, in view of Julius’s circumstantial statements,
the amazing news must be true, and Dan was instantly agog to
carry it further. Julius watched Dan and the grey mare out of
sight, fairly writhing with ecstasy. Oh, but Dan had been easy!
The story would be all over Valley View in twenty-four hours.
Julius laughed until he came near to falling off the gatepost.
At this point Julius and Danny drop out of our story, and
Young Thomas enters.
It was two days later when Young Thomas heard that he was
to be married to Adelia Williams in June. Eben Clark, the
blacksmith, told him when he went to the forge to get his horse
shod. Young Thomas laughed his big jolly laugh. Valley View
gossip had been marrying him off for the last thirty years,
although never before to Adelia Williams.
“It’s news to me,” he said tolerantly.
Eben grinned broadly. “Ah, you can’t bluff it off like that,
Tom,” he said. “The news came too straight this time. Well, I
was glad to hear it, although I was mighty surprised. I never
thought of you and Adelia. But she’s a fine little woman and
will make you a capital wife.”
Young Thomas grunted and drove away. He had a good deal
of business to do that day, involving calls at various places—
the store for molasses, the mill for flour, Jim Bentley’s for seed
grain, the doctor’s for toothache drops for his housekeeper, the
post office for mail—and at each and every place he was joked
about his approaching marriage. In the end it rather annoyed
Young Thomas. He drove home at last in what was for him
something of a temper. How on earth had that fool story
started? With such detailed circumstantiality of rugs and quilts,
too? Adelia Williams must be going to marry somebody, and
the Valley View gossips, unable to locate the man, had guessed
Young Thomas.