Going to Shrewsbury

by Sarah Orne Jewett

The train stopped slowly at a little station, and there was only a short time for one old passenger to hurry on. It started again so quickly that she nearly fell over. At first I saw only an old woman, with a large basket and a heavy package. Then I noticed she was a friend of mine, Mrs. Peet, who lived on a small farm several kilometres from the village. She was well-known for good butter, fresh eggs and vegetables - in fact, she always had the best of everything on her farm - but it was quite a long time since I'd seen her.

I asked Mrs. Peet to sit next to me; it was nice to see her again. I tried to put some of her luggage above her seat; but even the smallest bag was too large and, so, I put everything on the floor and seats. Mrs. Peet was not a big woman, but with the basket and the package and some bags of mine we had very little space.

"So this is a train!" said my friend, as soon as she sat down. She looked like she'd been crying, but there was the usual happy look in her tired old eyes.

"Where are you going, Mrs. Peet?' asked.

"Didn't you hear about me, dear?" she asked. "Well, I'm leaving here and moving to Shrewsbury."

"To Shrewsbury? Have you sold the farm?' said with sadness and surprise. Mrs. Peet was too old to move from her home and I was shocked.

"The farm wasn't mine." Her face became sad. "My husband was cheated and gave it away before he died. His sister's son, Isaac, came one day and said he wanted to do the farm work for him because he was too old. Then he said we had to pay him for the work, and then that I had to pay taxes on the farm. I tried to pay everything but I couldn't get him everything he wanted.

"It's really hurt me to lose my home. Friends said I should go to court but Isaac is more clever than me in things like that. He says he has my name on a paper which makes the taxes my problem. I didn't have much money and I was just too tired, with no sleep because of the worry. And here I am! After I worked so hard for forty-five years to save enough money for when I'm too old to work. I could look after myself, if I still had the farm. But now ... I've always wanted to travel and see the world but now that I can, I don't want to."

"Shrewsbury is a nice place," said, but my heart was full of anger at Isaac Peet's tricks. He was always like a fox.

"So people tell me," said the poor woman "but I tell you, dear, it's hard to live far from where you had your home and have your friends. It's like putting one of my old apple trees in the sand by the sea and hoping it likes it."

"Where are you going to live in Shrewsbury?' asked.

"I don't expect to be there for long, dear. I'm seventy-six years old." And Mrs. Peet turned to look at me with her honest old face. "I said directly to Isaac, before a room full of neighbours, that I expected him to get me home and bury me when I die. But I wanted to live in my own home, if I could, till then. He'd lied, you see, when he said I chose to leave the farm and live with my family, but" - and she whispered this carefully - "he didn't give me a chance to stay there. I haven't said that to many people because they're scared of him, but I think they all know what has happened. Ah well, dear, it's done now and there's nothing I can do about it. The best thing is to forget all about it and live for today." I saw big tears move slowly down her cheeks, although she looked the other way.

"It looks like there's a lot of good farming land in this part of the country," she said, a minute later. "Where are we now? Do you see those nice farm buildings? He must be a rich man." But I had to tell her that we had still not left our own town. Mrs. Peet gave a pleased little laugh, like a girl. "I keep thinking we'll be in Shrewsbury soon and am scared of missing my station. I've never been on a train before. It's like flying in the air; everything is going past so quickly I can't see anything. Oh, I must check that my cat's alright. Did I tell you she came with me?"

"Is she in that basket?' asked.

"Yes, dear, I was going to shoot her, so she wouldn't be scared of moving. A farm boy was going to do it for me but when the time came, he wasn't there and it gave me a good reason to pack her up and bring her with me. Well, she's old, like me. And there are probably mice where we're going, so she'll be useful. I think we're both going to miss our old home. I'd love to know how I'm going to keep busy".

"You mustn't worry," answered as hopefully as I could. "Your niece will be pleased to have you with her. Is she one of Mrs. Winn's daughters?"

"Oh no, they can't take me. This one is my sister Wayland's daughter, Isabella, who's married well. The last time I saw her was her wedding, but I asked her because there was no-one else to take me, just until I found something else. She wrote back, though not very quickly, telling me to come.

"Some friends asked me to spend at least the winter with them. They're very kind. This morning I really wanted to say yes, because leaving was so hard. But now I've left, it's for the best. I just couldn't stay near my old home and see him doing things to it that I couldn't stop. It's hard that I never had children. I wanted to give the farm to Isaac when I died, although I don't like him. If he was my son, he wouldn't be so bad. People behave like wild animals for a reason. He's a fox and his mother was a fox. Maybe we should blame her more than him".

I let her talk. Her head and heart were too full of the crisis in her quiet life to think about anybody else. But a welcome change came over her. She now began to forget her own troubles and look around her. She was quickly interested. She had lived through this terrible time at the end of her old life: Shrewsbury might be on the other side of the world for her. But, at the moment, she was just a traveller and she began to talk cleverly and not very politely about two or three people sitting near us.

"Where do you think they're going?" she asked. "They look like their last employer threw them out and now they have to look for something else. Where do all these people on the train come from? They can't all be honest! Half of them look like thieves. But we can't all be good."

I was glad to see Mrs. Peet enjoying herself and we were happy for a few minutes. She said seriously that she hoped that I could forgive her for talking like this, but there were some kinds of people on the train that she'd never seen before. When they came to take her ticket, she turned sad again.

"You'll have to look after me, dear, when we get to Shrewsbury," she said, after we found the ticket. The cat almost escaped and the package broke and everything fell on the floor. There was a small metal box, an old blanket that I'd often seen her wearing over her thin shoulders on the way to market, and a broom. It was sad to see all her little things and I was very sorry for her.

"I don't know. Maybe I'll like Shrewsbury a lot. When I think how many times on a Monday morning, I thought about doing all the washing and how my life was just the same thing again and again, but that there was no way out of it. And now I'm out. Maybe my sister Winn's girls could rent a small house with the little bit of money I've got with me and I could do all the housekeeping for them. I only hope my husband can't see that I'm not on the farm anymore. He always thought Isaac would look after me, although he was very angry when he knew about the paper I'd signed. Everyone always thought I was a smart woman, but handwriting's very hard to follow and it was a hot day and my head wasn't working anymore.

"I am not going to laxe around. They'll be surprised when they see what a woman of my age can do. Isabella never liked housework and so I can work in the kitchen or look after the four little girls - at least, it was four when I last heard. But they'll be grown up now. What am I thinking? Time flies! Anyway, I always wanted to see how things were away from home, if they were different, and now I'll get the chance."

When she finished chatting about her future in Shrewsbury, I asked if anyone was going to meet her at the train station. She said I didn't need to be worried about her, because a boy was coming to meet her.

As we got near the station, where she was going to get off the train, she became more impatient and the cat in her basket seemed to understand this and started to jump around angrily, trying to get out. A man came to help her off the train and carried most of her luggage for her - even the basket with the cat in. Mrs. Peet held her package very tight, like it was everything she had in the world. As I said goodbye, I was ready to cry and I think she was too. It was so sad to see this thin, old woman walking alone across the platform.

Just before she got off the train, she had a thought:

"Oh, I haven't asked about your parents. You'll think I'm so rude."

The next spring, I was riding past her farm and wondered how old Mrs. Peet was doing, because I had only got a short note to tell me she'd arrived safely. I'd heard nothing from her all winter. At that same moment, I saw her nephew Isaac coming by on his horse:

"Old Aunt Peet's passed away," he told me quickly. "She had a shock, and died yesterday morning. I'm planning the funeral. She never enjoyed herself so much as she has this past month. She was a very hard-working woman. Her family were glad to have her there. This farm here never was any good. The old gentleman - my uncle, you know - he tired himself out trying to make a living from it."

It seemed to me like I'd known Mrs. Peet better than anyone else had known her. I had expected to see her again, and hear her opinion of Shrewsbury life. And I wondered what happened to the cat and the package.