When Aunt Ri first saw the room, after it was thus arranged, she
put both arms akimbo, and stood in the doorway, her mouth wide
open, her eyes full of wonder. Finally her wonder framed itself in
an ejaculation: "Wall, I allow yer air fixed up!"
Aunt Ri, at her best estate, had never possessed a room which had
the expression of this poor little mud hut of Ramona's. She could
not understand it. The more she studied the place, the less she
understood it. On returning to the tent, she said to Jos: "It beats all
ever I see, the way thet Injun woman's got fixed up out er nothin'.
It ain't no more'n a hovel, a mud hovel, Jos, not much bigger'n this
yer tent, fur all three on 'em, an' the bed an' the stove an' everythin';
an' I vow, Jos, she's fixed it so't looks jest like a parlor! It beats me,
it does. I'd jest like you to see it."
And when Jos saw it, and Jeff, they were as full of wonder as Aunt
Ri had been. Dimly they recognized the existence of a principle
here which had never entered into their life. They did not know it
by name, and it could not have been either taught, transferred, or
explained to the good-hearted wife and mother who had been so
many years the affectionate disorderly genius of their home.
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