Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph.
It is time to relax and fully let go.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Close your eyes and feel yourself sink into the support beneath you.
And let all the worries of the day drift away.
This is your time and your space.
Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.
There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.
Happy listening.
Jessamine When the vegetable man knocked,
Jessamine got up and went to the door.
She felt quite acquainted with him.
He'd been coming all the spring and his cheery greeting always left a pleasant afterglow.
But wait,
This was not the usual vegetable man.
This one was considerably younger.
Tall and sunburned with a ruddy,
Smiling face and keen,
Pleasant blue eyes.
And he had a spray of honeysuckle pinned on his coat.
Want any stuff this morning?
He said.
No,
Said Jessamine,
Shaking her head.
We always get ours from Mr.
Bell.
This is his day.
Well,
I guess you won't be seeing Mr.
Bell for a spell.
He fell off a loft out of this place yesterday and broke his leg.
I'm his nephew.
I'm going to fill his place till he gets round again.
Oh,
I'm so sorry.
For Mr.
Bell,
I mean.
Have you any green peas?
Yeah,
I've heaps of them.
I'll bring them in.
Anything else?
Not today,
Said Jessamine,
With a wistful glance at the honeysuckle.
Mr.
Bell,
Junior,
Saw it.
In an instant,
He unpinned it and handed it to her.
If you like posies,
You're welcome to this.
I guess you must be fond of flowers,
Then.
He noted the flash of delight that passed over her pale face.
Yes,
Indeed.
They put me in so mind of home,
Of the country,
You know.
How sweet this is,
Thank you.
Your country bred,
Then?
Been in the city long?
Since last fall.
I was born and brought up in the country.
I wish I was back.
I just can't seem to get over feeling homesick.
This honeysuckle seems to bring it back even more.
We had honeysuckle round our porch at home.
You don't like the city,
Then?
Sometimes I feel as if I should smother here.
I'll never feel at home,
I'm afraid,
Ever.
Where did you live,
Then,
Before you came here?
Up at Middleton.
It was an old-fashioned place,
But pretty.
Our house was covered of vines,
And there were trees all about,
And great green fields.
I don't know why I'm telling you all this.
I forgot I was talking to a stranger.
Pretty little woman,
Soliloquised Andrew Bell as he drove away.
She doesn't look happy,
Though.
I suppose she's married some city chap and has to live in town.
I guess it don't agree with her.
Her eyes had a real hungry look in them over that honeysuckle.
She seemed near about crying when she talked of the country.
Jessamine felt more like crying than ever when she went back to her work.
Her head ached,
And she was very tired.
The tiny kitchen she was in was hot and stifling.
How she longed for the great roomy kitchen in her old home,
With its spotless floors and floods of sunshine streaming in through the maples outside.
There was room to live and breathe in the country.
From her old house,
One looked out over green,
Wind-rippled meadows,
Under a glorious arch of pure blue sky,
Away to the purple hills in the distance.
Jessamine Stacey had always lived in the country.
When her sister died and the old home had to go,
She could only accept the shelter offered by her brother,
John Stacey,
Who did business in the city.
Of her stylish sister-in-law,
Jessamine was absolutely in awe.
At first,
Mrs.
John was by no means pleased at the necessity of taking a country sister into her family circle.
But one day,
When the servant girl took a tantrum and left,
Mrs.
John found it very convenient to have in the house a person who could step into Eliza's place as promptly and efficiently as Jessamine could.
Indeed,
She found it so convenient that Eliza never had a successor.
Jessamine found herself in the position of maid of all work and kitchen drudge for board and clothes.
Jessamine never complained,
But she grew thinner and paler as the winter went by.
She had worked in the house just as hard as she worked on the farm,
But it was this close confinement and weary routine that told on her.
Mrs.
John was exacting in querulous.
John was absorbed in his business worries and had no time to waste on his sister.
Now,
When the summer had come,
Her homesickness was almost unbearable.
The next day Mr.
Bell came,
He handed her a big bunch of sweet briar roses.
Here you are,
He said heartily.
I took the liberty to bring you these today,
Seeing you're so fond of them.
The country roads are pink now.
Why don't you get your husband to bring you out for a drive some day?
You'd be as welcome as a lark at my farm.
I will when he comes along,
Said Jessamine amusedly,
But I haven't seen him yet.
Mr.
Bell gave a prolonged whistle.
Excuse me,
I thought you were Mrs.
Something-or-another for sure.
Aren't you mistress here then?
My brother's wife's the mistress here.
I'm only Jessamine.
Then she laughed again.
She was holding the roses against her face and her eyes sparked.
The vegetable man then watched her,
Admiringly.
You're a bit of a country rose yourself,
Miss.
You ought to be blooming out in the fields,
I guess,
Instead of wilting in here.
I wish I was.
Thank you very much for the roses,
Mr.
Bell.
Andrew Bell's the name.
I live out at Pine Pastures.
We're all bells out there,
You know.
You can't throw a stone without hitting a bell.
I'm glad you like the roses.
After that,
The vegetable man brought Jessamine a bouquet every time he came.
Once it was a big bunch of field daisies,
Another time golden buttercups,
Or a green glory of spicy ferns,
And a cluster of old-fashioned garden flowers.
They keep life in me,
Jessamine told him.
Thank you so much.
By this time,
They had become great friends.
True,
Jessamine knew little about Andrew Bell,
But she felt instinctively he was kind-hearted.
One day when he arrived,
Jessamine met him almost gleefully.
There's nothing to do today and no dinner to cook.
You don't say?
Well,
Where are the folks then?
They've gone on an excursion.
They won't be back till tonight.
They won't?
Well,
I'll tell you what I'll do.
You get ready,
Jessamine.
When I'm through my rounds,
We'll go for a drive up the country.
Oh,
Mr.
Bell,
Won't that be too much bother for you?
I reckon not.
You want an excursion,
Don't you,
As well as other folks?
Then you shall have it.
Thank you so much,
Said Jessamine.
You don't know how much this means to me.
Poor little creature,
Said Mr.
Bell to himself as he drove away.
Downright cruelty,
That's what it is to keep her penned up like that.
You might as well coop up a lark in a hen house and expect it to thrive and sing.
I'd like to give that brother of hers a piece of my mind.
When he lifted her up to the high seat of his express wagon that afternoon,
He said,
Now,
Jessamine,
I want you to do something.
Just shut your eyes and don't open them again until I tell you.
Jessamine laughed and obeyed.
Finally,
After a long trek,
She heard him say,
OK,
Now you can look.
Jessamine opened her eyes with a little cry.
They were on a remote country road,
Cool and dim and quiet in the very heart of the beech woods.
Long banners of light fell athwart the grey bowls.
Along the row sides grew sheets of feathery ferns and above,
The sky was gloriously blue and the air was sweet with the wild woodsy smell of the forest.
Jessamine lifted and clasped her hands in rapture.
How lovely,
She said.
Do you know where we're going,
Said Mr.
Bell delightedly.
Out to my farm at Pine Pastures.
My aunt keeps house for me and she'll be real glad to see you.
We'll have a great time this afternoon.
After a delightful drive,
They turned into a wide lane.
Here we are at Cloverside Farm,
Pine Pastures.
I'm proud of it,
I'll admit.
There isn't a finer place in the country.
What do you think of it,
Jessamine?
Mr.
Bell looked inquiringly.
Oh,
It is lovely,
Jessamine replied.
It looks like home.
Look at those great fields.
I'd like to go down and lie in that clover.
Mr.
Bell lifted her from the wagon and marched her up to a flowery garden path.
Here you are.
Aunt,
This is the young lady I've been talking of.
Make her at home now while I tend to the horses.
Andrew's aunt was a pleasant looking woman with silver hair and kind blue eyes.
Come in,
Dear.
You're as welcome as a June Rose,
She said with a smile.
When Mr.
Bell returned,
He found Jessamine standing on the porch with her hands full of honeysuckle and her cheeks pink with excitement.
Now,
Come down with me to the pasture and see my jersey carved,
He said.
There's something worth seeing.
This way,
Miss Stacey.
He led the way down the lane and Jessamine and his aunt followed together.
Jessamine thought she must be in a pleasant dream.
The whole afternoon was a feast of delight to her starved heart.
And when sunsight came,
She sat down tired out but radiant on the porch steps.
Her hat had slipped back and her hair was curling around her face.
With her eyes dark but aglow,
The roses still blooming in her cheeks.
When at last the moon rose,
Mr.
Bell brought his team round and they drove back through the clear night past the wonderful stillness of the great beech woods and the wide fields.
The vegetable man then looked sideways at his companion.
She's just pining away for home and love,
That's what he said to himself.
Why can't she have it?
She's dying by inches in that hole back in town.
Jessamine,
Meanwhile,
Was quite unsuspecting of the farmer's meditations.
She was living over again the fancy and joy of the afternoon.
The ramble in the pasture,
The drink of water from the spring under the hillside pines,
The bountiful old-fashioned country supper in the vine-shaped dining room,
The cup of new milk in the derriere at sunset and all the glory of skies and meadows and trees.
How is it possible to go back to that cage again?
The next week,
Mr.
Bell Senior resumed his visits and the young farmer came no more.
Jessamine missed Andrew Bell greatly.
Mr.
Bell,
His uncle,
Never brought her flowers or honeysuckle.
Then suddenly,
One day,
His nephew reappeared.
Jessamine opened the door and her face lit up.
But to Mr.
Bell's surprise,
She had been crying.
Did you think I'd forgotten you?
He asked.
Not a bit of it.
Harvest was on and I couldn't get clear before.
I've come to ask you when you intend to take another drive to Cloverside Farm.
What have you been up to?
You look as if you've been working too hard.
You need to get outside a bit more.
I haven't felt very well,
Said Jessamine.
And I'm glad you came today,
Mr.
Bell,
Because I shall not see you again and I wanted to say goodbye and thank you for your kindness.
Andrew Bell's face dropped.
Goodbye?
But where are you going?
My brother went west a week ago.
Jessamine faltered.
She could not bring herself to tell the clear-eyed farmer that John Stacey had failed and been obliged to start for the west without saying goodbye to his creditors.
His wife and I are going next week,
Too.
Oh,
Jessamine,
Explained Mr.
Bell in despair.
You mustn't go.
I want you at Cloverside Farm.
I came today on purpose to ask you,
To tell you I love you and to make you happy if you'll marry me.
Now,
What do you say to that?
Jessamine,
By way of answer,
Sat down on the nearest chair and began to cry.
Don't,
Said Andrew Bell in distress.
I don't want to make you feel bad.
If you don't like the idea,
I won't mention it again.
It isn't that,
Said Jessamine.
You're so kind,
But I'm afraid I'd only be a bother.
I'll take the risk,
He said.
You shall have a happy home,
Little girl.
Now,
Will you come to it with me?
Jessamine looked up.
Yes,
I will,
She said falteringly.
Behind her,
Mrs.
John fumed and sulked and chose to consider herself hoodwinked and injured.
But Mr.
Bell was a resolute man.
And a few days later,
He came for the last time to Number 49 and took his bride away with him.
They drove through the beech woods and he put his arm tenderly around the shy,
Smiling little woman and said,
You'll never be sorry for this,
My dear.
And Jessamine never was.
