Chapter 17

           ButtherewasnohilarityinthelittletownthatsametranquilSaturdayafternoon. TheHarpers,andAuntPolly’sfamily,werebeingputintomourning,withgreatgriefandmanytears. Anunusualquietpossessedthevillage,althoughitwasordinarilyquietenough,inallconscience. Thevillagersconductedtheirconcernswithanabsentair,andtalkedlittle;buttheysighedoften. TheSaturdayholidayseemedaburdentothechildren. Theyhadnoheartintheirsports,andgraduallygavethemup. 

           IntheafternoonBeckyThatcherfoundherselfmopingaboutthedesertedschoolhouseyard,andfeelingverymelancholy. Butshefoundnothingtheretocomforther. Shesoliloquized: 

           "Oh,ifIonlyhadabrassandiron-knobagain! ButIhaven’tgotanythingnowtorememberhimby. "Andshechokedbackalittlesob. 

           Presentlyshestopped,andsaidtoherself: 

           "Itwasrighthere. Oh,ifitwastodooveragain,Iwouldn’tsaythat—Iwouldn’tsayitforthewholeworld. Buthe’sgonenow; I’llnever,never,neverseehimanymore." 

           Thisthoughtbrokeherdown,andshewanderedaway,withtearsrollingdownhercheeks. Thenquiteagroupofboysandgirls—playmatesofTom’sandJoe’s—cameby,andstoodlookingoverthepalingfenceandtalkinginreverenttonesofhowTomdidso-and-sothelasttimetheysawhim,andhowJoesaidthisandthatsmalltrifle(pregnantwithawfulprophecy,astheycouldeasilyseenow!) —andeachspeakerpointedouttheexactspotwherethelostladsstoodatthetime,andthenaddedsomethinglike "andIwasa-standingjustso—justasIamnow,andasifyouwashim—Iwasascloseasthat—andhesmiled,justthisway—andthensomethingseemedtogoalloverme,like—awful,youknow—andIneverthoughtwhatitmeant,ofcourse,butIcanseenow!"