Fair Day

"Fair Day" by Sarah Orne Jewett is a charming short story that captures the excitement and vibrancy of a rural fair in a small New England community. Through the eyes of a young girl, the narrative explores themes of community, childhood joy, and the simple pleasures of life. Jewett’s rich, descriptive prose brings to life the sights, sounds, and feel of the fair, while also highlighting the connections between people and their shared experiences in a close-knit setting. The story reflects Jewett's appreciation for regional culture and the enduring spirit of small-town festivities.

• Short story

								
Widow Mercy Bascom came back alone into the empty kitchen and seated
herself in her favorite splint-bottomed chair by the window, with a
dreary look on her face.

"I s'pose I be an old woman, an' past goin' to cattle shows an'
junketings, but folks needn't take it so for granted. I'm sure I don't
want to be on my feet all day, trapesin' fair grounds an' swallowin'
everybody's dust; not but what I'm as able as most, though I be
seventy-three year old."

She folded her hands in her lap and looked out across the deserted
yard. There was not even a hen in sight; she was left alone for the
day. "Tobias's folks," as she called the son's family with whom she
made her home--Tobias's folks had just started for a day's pleasuring
at the county fair, ten miles distant. She had not thought of going
with them, nor expected any invitation; she had even helped them off
with her famous energy; but there was an unexpected reluctance at
being left behind, a sad little feeling that would rise suddenly in
her throat as she stood in the door and saw them drive away in the
shiny, two-seated wagon. Johnny, the youngest and favorite of her
grandchildren, had shouted back in his piping voice, "I wish you was
goin', Grandma."

"The only one on 'em that thought of me," said Mercy Bascom to
herself, and then not being a meditative person by nature, she went to
work industriously and proceeded to the repairing of Tobias's work-day
coat. It was sharp weather now in the early morning, and he would soon
need the warmth of it. Tobias's placid wife never anticipated and
always lived in a state of trying to catch up with her work. It never
had been the elder woman's way, and Mercy reviewed her own active
career with no mean pride. She had been left a widow at twenty-eight,
with four children and a stony New Hampshire farm, but had bravely won
her way, paid her debts, and provided the three girls and their
brother Tobias with the best available schooling.

For a woman of such good judgment and high purpose in life,
Mrs. Bascom had made a very unwise choice in marrying Tobias Bascom
the elder. He was not even the owner of a good name, and led her a
terrible life with his drunken shiftlessness, and hindrance of all her
own better aims. Even while the children were babies, however, and
life was at its busiest and most demanding stages, the determined soul
would not be baffled by such damaging partnership. She showed the
plainer of what stuff she was made, and simply worked the harder and
went her ways more fiercely. If it were sometimes whispered that she
was unamiable, her wiser neighbors understood the power of will that
was needed to cope with circumstances that would have crushed a weaker
woman. As for her children, they were very fond of her in the
undemonstrative New England fashion. Only the two eldest could
remember their father at all, and after he was removed from this world
Tobias Bascom left but slight proofs of having ever existed at all,
except in the stern lines and premature aging of his wife's face.

The years that followed were years of hard work on the little farm,
but diligence and perseverance had their reward. When the three
daughters came to womanhood they were already skilled farmhouse
keepers, and were dispatched for their own homes well equipped with
feather-beds and homespun linen and woolen. Mercy Bascom was glad to
have them well settled, if the truth were known. She did not like to
have her own will and law questioned or opposed, and when she sat down
to supper alone with her son Tobias, after the last daughter's
wedding, she had a glorious feeling of peace and satisfaction.

"There's a sight o' work left yet in the old ma'am," she said to
Tobias, in an unwontedly affectionate tone. "I guess we shall keep
house together as comfortable as most folks." But Tobias grew very red
in the face and bent over his plate.

"I don' know's I want the girls to get ahead of me," he said
sheepishly. "I ain't meanin' to put you out with another wedding right
away, but I've been a-lookin' round, an' I guess I've found somebody
to suit me."

Mercy Bascom turned cold with misery and disappointment. "Why T'bias,"
she said, anxiously, "folks always said that you was cut out for an
old bachelor till I come to believe it, an' I've been lottin' on"--

"Course nobody's goin' to wrench me an' you apart," said Tobias
gallantly. "I made up my mind long ago you an' me was yoke-mates,
mother. An' I had it in my mind to fetch you somebody that would ease
you o' quite so much work now 'Liza's gone off."

"I don't want nobody," said the grieved woman, and she could eat no
more supper; that festive supper for which she had cooked her very
best. Tobias was sorry for her, but he had his rights, and now simply
felt light-hearted because he had freed his mind of this unwelcome
declaration. Tobias was slow and stolid to behold, but he was a man of
sound ideas and great talent for farming. He had found it difficult to
choose between his favorites among the marriageable girls, a bright
young creature who was really too good for him, but penniless, and a
weaker damsel who was heiress to the best farm in town. The farm won
the day at last; and Mrs. Bascom felt a thrill of pride at her son's
worldly success; then she asked to know her son's plans, and was
wholly disappointed. Tobias meant to sell the old place; he had no
idea of leaving her alone as she wistfully complained; he meant to
have her make a new home at the Bassett place with him and his bride.

That she would never do: the old place which had given them a living
never should be left or sold to strangers. Tobias was not prepared for
her fierce outburst of reproach at the mere suggestion. She would live
alone and pay her way as she always had done, and so it was, for a few
years of difficulties. Tobias was never ready to plough or plant when
she needed him; his own great farm was more than he could serve
properly. It grew more and more difficult to hire workmen, and they
were seldom worth their wages. At last Tobias's wife, who was a kindly
soul, persuaded her reluctant mother-in-law to come and spend a
winter; the old woman was tired and for once disheartened; she found
herself deeply in love with her grandchildren, and so next spring she
let the little hill farm on the halves to an impecunious but
hard-working young couple.

To everybody's surprise the two women lived together harmoniously.
Tobias's wife did everything to please her mother-in-law except to be
other than a Bassett. And Mercy, for the most part, ignored this
misfortune, and rarely was provoked into calling it a fault. Now that
the necessity for hard work and anxiety was past, she appeared to have
come to an Indian summer shining-out of her natural amiability and
tolerance. She was sometimes indirectly reproachful of her daughter's
easy-going ways, and set an indignant example now and then by a famous

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