WEN: 2260EE
Exhibitor Name: Jeshua Wickham
Division: Creative Writing--
Class: 04 Short Stories (
Ouch! Oh well, the dress would dry quickly. She set off briskly in the direction of the village, singing an old tune merrily as she walked. . . . . . At length the day came when Henry was pronounced fit enough to join his regiment. Priscilla stood and waved her handkerchief till the distant shape disappeared over the hill. Henry was gone. She would miss him too. He had grown to be a good friend. But she cheered herself up with the thought that they could write. Her mother, aware of the state of things, had allowed them to start up a correspondence. Although acknowledging that they were young, she thought that the writing of notes could do no harm, and it might even help. Goodness knows Prissy could use some help on her penmanship! And the boy seemed like a good and likely lad. Not like some of these witless village boys. She shook her head as she continued to roll out the crust for some pies. Next to her Priscilla was chopping up apples. She was such a help, that girl. Not like her brothers, they just loved to run crazy. She smiled over at Ruthie, contentedly sucking her thumb in her cradle. Well, she would have that one to keep her company when Prissy was all grown up. Quickly she slapped the pies together and put them into the old stove. “Mother, can I please be dismissed now?” The young eager face looking up contrasted strongly with the worn, motherly one framed in the white cap. She smiled kindly, “Yes you may, but be sure to be in promptly for dinner.” While the girl untied her apron and rushed out the door she smiled with amusement. Probably going to read a book, she thought. That girl devoured every book she could find in the village. Well, she too had been like that before she met Paul. Then her life was taken up by her family and running the home. Ruthie began to wail, and Mrs. Newman went to pick her up. Yes, life should continue as normal now with their visitor gone. . . . . . Henry was back at camp. No feelings of reluctance oppressed him as he left the village. He was back to the life of adventure, no longer would he be lying doing nothing. Randall was slightly jealous when he found out that his friend had gained permission to begin a correspondence with the pretty Miss Newman. However, his buoyant spirits were not kept down long, especially when he reflected that it was him who had landed Henry in that most pleasant situation. The humour of that thought drove away the last of his ill will, and he was, as always, his cheerful self. The rest of the summer campaign went uneventfully, and winter found them settled in the cheerless Valley Forge camp.
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