The Misadventures of Maude March Read Online Free

uncertainly, but I only let my chin jut out as I walked to the door and opened it.
    “Aunt Ruthie would have thanked you,” I said, and it was probably true. She would have thanked them to leave. We had done our duty by the church ladies and if they did nothing else for us, they dropped that word about Joe Harden.
    I had a man to see. I was nearly happy as I shut the door.

I STOOD AT THE BACK OF THE JAIL AND SHOUTED OUT HIS name. “Mr. Joe Harden!”
    A face appeared in one barred window. The most I could make out was, it was a bearded face, and hairless on top, like maybe he'd gotten himself scalped in one of those frontier fights.
    After he'd taken his time to look me over too, he said, “Who wants him?”
    I held up a dime novel. “Are you this Joe Harden?”
    “What if I am?”
    I put my arm down. What if he was? He was still the man who shot and killed Aunt Ruthie. I couldn't be here to shake his hand. “Are they going to hang you?”
    He went away from the window but came back again after only a moment. “If this doesn't just turn a man's stomach, I don't know what will,” he said. “Shouldn't a girl your age be at home playing with her dolls?”
    This struck me to the quick. “I don't have a doll.”
    I had not had a doll since I was eight years old, when one day a dog grabbed it and ran off. Aunt Ruthie wiped mytears and said matter-of-factly, “You're too old for such things anyway.”
    “Well, don't you have anything better to do than hope for hangings?”
    I said, “You shot my aunt. She was my only kin, but for my sister, Maude.”
    For a moment I thought he would leave the window again. He said, “I'm sorry, girlie, I truly am.”
    I stood there, not knowing quite what I wanted from him. I didn't know what I expected, but not this fellow with whiskers.
    He said, “If I could undo it, I would.”
    “You can't, I know that,” I said, and walked away. I was sorry I'd come.

T HE REVEREND HAD BROUGHT AUNT RUTHIE'S EGG layers and her little brown cow over to his own place. This was necessary, since we couldn't very well expect these animals to take care of themselves.
    He also cleared Aunt Ruthie's pantry on Maude's say-so. On a laundry day, he took the older children with him and brought a wagonload of canned goods and flour and sugar, in addition to hams and part of a side of beef. There was an atmosphere of quiet good cheer about the family as we all helped to fill Mrs. Peasley's pantry to overflowing.
    Maude acted as if she'd never seen these things before, as if her hands had never tightened the caps on these jars or helped to salt the ham. She made several trips between the wagon and the pantry without a word said to anyone, causing Reverend Peasley to comment, “Good worker.”
    If there was one thing the Peasleys could be said to need, it was another pair of hands. What with five children, all younger than me, I guess it would be fair to say Reverend Peasley and his wife were overworked at the get-go.
    But there was far more than daily cooking and houseworkand wood chopping to be done. The church floor had to be swept twice a week, the pews needed a coat of wax, and wax took a lot of rubbing to make it shine. Two extra pairs of hands could not complain if they were put right to work.
    Children were underfoot at every turn, running through the sweepings, dipping their fingers into whatever they were told to stay away from. Mrs. Peasley did not run what Aunt Ruthie would have called “a tight ship.”
    Maude's voice was deep, which scares small children sometimes, and besides that, Maude tended toward swatting people when they annoyed her severely. I had taken my fair share of swats and stood immune, but the Peasley children had never dealt with the likes of Maude, and in a week's time, they all stood afraid of my sister.
    My voice was also deep, but I had the good sense to make it higher when I spoke to little ones, which made me seem friendlier, even if I was scolding. Also, the two oldest