diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 3 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 22076.txt | 10876 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 22076.zip | bin | 0 -> 206497 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 |
5 files changed, 10892 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/22076.txt b/22076.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d647c4e --- /dev/null +++ b/22076.txt @@ -0,0 +1,10876 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Second Chance, by Nellie L. McClung + + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + + + + +Title: The Second Chance + + +Author: Nellie L. McClung + + + +Release Date: July 15, 2007 [eBook #22076] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII) + + +***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECOND CHANCE*** + + +E-text prepared by Michelle LaPointe, Kincardine Ontario Canada 2007 + + + +THE SECOND CHANCE + +by + +NELLIE L. McCLUNG + +Author of +"Sowing Seeds in Danny" + +Frontispiece by Wladyslaw T. Benda + + + + + + + + _"Then I went down to the potter's house and behold + he wrought a work on the wheels. + + "And the vessel that he made of clay was marred in + the hand of the potter; so he made it again another vessel + as seemed good to the potter to make it."_ + + ----Jeremiah xviii, 3-4. + + +TORONTO +WILLIAM BRIGGS +PUBLISHER +Copyright, Canada, 1910. by +WILLIAM BRIGGS + + +TO MY MOTHER +MRS. LETITIA McCURDY MOONEY + + + + +CONTENTS + + +CHAPTER + I. Martha + II. The Rising Watsons + III. "Knowledge Is Power" + IV. Something More than Gestures + V. At the Chicken Hill School + VI. Pearl's Unruly Conscience + VII. The Second Chance + VIII. A Good Listener + IX. Mrs. Perkins's Turn + X. The New Pupils + XI. The House of Trouble + XII. Pearl Visits the Parsonage + XIII. The Ladies' Aid Meeting + XIV. "In Case----" + XV. The Sowing + XVI. Spiritual Advisors + XVII. The Pioneers' Picnic + XVIII. The Lacrosse Match + XIX. The End of the Game + XX. On the Quiet Hillside + XXI. Frozen Wheat + XXII. Autumn Days + XXIII. Pearl's Philosophy + XXIV. True Greatness + XXV. The Coming of Thursa + XXVI. In Honour's Ways + XXVII. The Wedding + XXVIII. A Sail! A Sail! + XXIX. Martha's Strong Arguments + XXX. Another Match-maker + XXXI. Mrs. Cavers's Neighbours + XXXII. Another Neighbour + XXXIII. The Correction Line + XXXIV. The Contrite Heart + XXXV. The Lure of Love and the West + + + +CHAPTER I + +MARTHA + + + In the long run all love is paid by love, + Tho' undervalued by the hosts of earth. + The great eternal government above + Keeps strict account, and will redeem its worth. + Give thy love freely; do not count the cost; + So beautiful a thing was never lost + In the long run. + + _----Ella Wheeler Wilcox._ + + +THOMAS PERKINS was astonished beyond words. Martha had asked for +money! The steady, reliable, early-to-bed, early-to-rise Martha--the +only one of his family that was really like his own people. If he +could believe his senses, Martha had asked for two dollars in cash, +and had distinctly said that due bills on the store would not do! + +If Martha had risen from her cradle twenty-five years ago and banged +her estimable parent in the eye with her small pink fist, he could +not have been more surprised than he was now! He stared at her with +all this in his face, and Martha felt the ground slipping away from +her. Maybe she shouldn't have asked for it! + +She went over the argument again. "It's for a magazine Mrs. Cavers +lent me. I would like to get it every month--it's--it's got lots of +nice things in it." She did not look at her father as she said this. + +Thomas Perkins moistened his lips. + +"By George!" he said. "You youngsters never think how the money +comes. You seem to think it grows on bushes!" + +Martha might have said that spring frost must have nipped the buds +for the last twenty-five years, but she did not. Ready speech was not +one of Martha's accomplishments, so she continued to pleat her apron +into a fan and said nothing. + +"Here the other day didn't I send thirty-nine dollars into Winnipeg +to get things for the house, and didn't I get you an eighteen-dollar +wallaby coat last year, and let you wear it week days and all, and +never said a word?" + +Martha might have reminded him that she was watering and feeding the +stock, and saving the wages of a hired man, while she was wearing the +wallaby coat, but she said not a word. + +"You get a queer old lot more than I got when I was a young shaver, +let me tell you. I've often told you young ones how I left home, when +I was nine years old, with the wind in my back--that's all I got from +home--and with about enough clothes on me to flag a train with. There +wasn't any of these magazines then, and I don't know as they do any +good, anyway. Poor old Ann Winters sent away her good, hard-earned +dollar to some place in the States, where they said: 'Send us a +dollar, and we'll show you how to make fifty; light employment; will +not have to leave home; either ladies or gentlemen can do it.' She +saw this in a magazine and sent her dollar, and what she got was a +pretty straight insult, I think. They wrote back, 'put an +advertisement like ours in some paper, and get fifty people like +yourself to answer it.' There's a magazine for you!" + +Martha looked at him helplessly. "I promised Mrs. Cavers I'd take it. +She's making a little money that way, to get a trip home this +Christmas," she said, locking and unlocking her fingers, the rough, +toil-worn joints of which spoke eloquently in her favour, if the old +man had had eyes to see them. + +"You women are too easy," he said. "You'll promise anything. Yer poor +grandmother let a man put a piano in the shed once when it was +raining, and he asked her to sign a paper sayin' it was there, and he +could 'come any time he liked to get it; and, by Jinks! didn't a +fellow come along in a few days wantin' her to pay for it, and +showing her her own name to a note. She wasn't so slow either, for +she purtended she doubted her own writin', and got near enough to +make a grab for it, and tore her name off; but it gave me father such +a turn he advertised her in the paper that he would not be +responsible for her debts, and he never put his name to paper of any +kind afterward. There was a fellow in the old Farmers' Home in +Brandon that asked me father to sign his name in a big book that he +showed up in front of him, and I tell you it was all we could do to +keep the old man from hittin' him. Of course, Martha, if ye didn't +put it down in writin' she can't hold ye; but puttin' it down is the +deuce altogether." + +"But I want to give it," Martha said slowly. "I want the magazine, +and I want to help Mrs. Cavers." + +"Now, Martha, look a here," the old man said, "you're a real good +girl, and very like my own folks--in the way you handle a hoe yer +just like my poor sister Lizzie that married a peddler against all +our wishes. I mind well, the night before she ran away, how she +kissed me and says she: 'Good-bye, Tommy, don't forgit to shut the +henhouse door,' and in the mornin' she was gone." + +Lizzie's bereaved brother wiped his eyes with a red handkerchief, and +looked dreamily into the fire. + +Martha, still pleating her apron, stood awkwardly by the table, but +instinctively she felt that the meeting had closed, and the +two-dollar bill was still inside. + +She went upstairs to her own room. It was a neat and pretty little +room, and the pride of Martha's heart, but to-night Martha's heart +had nothing in it but a great loneliness, vague and indefinite, a +longing for something she had never known. + +A rag carpet in well-harmonized stripes was on the floor; a blue and +white log-cabin quilt was on the bed; over the lace-edged pillow +covers there hung embroidered pillow shams. One had on it a wreath of +wild roses encircling the words "I slept and dreamed that life was +Beauty," while its companion, with a similar profusion of roses, made +the correction: "I woke and knew that, life was Duty." Martha had not +chosen the words, for she had never even dreamed that life was +beauty. A peddler (not the one that had beguiled her Aunt Lizzie) had +been storm-stayed with them the winter before and he had given her +these in payment for his lodging. + +She sat now on a little stool that she had made for herself of empty +tomato cans, covered with gaily flowered cretonne, and drawing back +the muslin frilled curtains, looked wearily over the fields. It was a +pleasant scene that lay before Martha's window--a long reach of +stubble field, stretching away to the bank of the Souris, flanked by +poplar bluffs. It was just a mile long, that field, a wonderful +stretch of wheat-producing soil; but to Martha it was all a weariness +of the flesh, for it meant the getting of innumerable meals for the +men who ploughed and sowed and reaped thereon. + +To-night, looking at the tall elms that fringed the river bank, she +tried to think of the things that had made her happy. They were +getting along well, there had been many improvements in the house and +out of it. She had better clothes than ever she had; the trees had +been lovely this last summer, and the garden never better; the lilacs +had bloomed last spring. Everything was improving except herself, she +thought sadly; the years that had been kind to everything else were +cruel to her. + +With a sudden impulse, she went to the mirror on her dressing table, +and looked long and earnestly at her image there. Martha was +twenty-five years old, and looked older. Her shoulders were slightly +bent, and would suggest to an accurate observer that they had become +so by carrying heavy burdens. Her hair was hay-coloured and broken. +Her forehead and her eyes were her best features, and her mouth, too, +was well formed and firm, giving her the look of a person who could +endure. + +To-night, as she sat leaning her head on the window-sill, Martha's +thoughts were as near to bitterness as they had ever been. This, +then, was all it came to, all her early rising and hard work, all her +small economies. She had not been able to get even two dollars when +she wanted it. She sat up straight and looked sadly out into the +velvet dusk, and the tears that had been long gathering in her heart +came slowly to her eyes; not the quick, glittering tears of childhood +that can be soon chased away by smiles--not that kind, no, no; but +the slow tears that scald and wither, the tears that make one old. + +It was dark when Martha lifted her head. She hastily drew down the +blind, lit the lamp, and washed away, all traces of her tears. Going +to a cupboard that stood behind the door, she took out a piece of +fine embroidery and was soon at work upon it. + +Hidden away in her heart, so well hidden that no one could have +suspected its presence, Martha cherished a sweet dream. To her stern +sense of right and wrong it would have seemed improper to think the +thoughts she was thinking, but for the fact that they were so idle, +so vain, so false, so hopeless. It had all begun the fall before, +when, at a party at one of the neighbours', Arthur Wemyss, the young +Englishman, had asked her to dance. He had been so different from the +young men she had known, so courteous and gentle, and had spoken to +her with such respect, that her heart was swept with a strange, new +feeling that perhaps, after all there might be for her the homage and +admiration she had seen paid to other girls. In her innocence of the +worlds ways, good and bad, she did not know that young men like +Arthur were taught to reverence all women, and that the deference of +his manner was nothing more than that. + +Martha fed her heart with no false hope-she never forgot to remind +herself that she was a dull, plain girl--and even when she sat at her +embroidery and let the imagination of her heart weave for her a +golden dream, it was only a dream to her, nothing more! + +When Arthur bought Jim Russell's quarter-section and began farming +independently, the Perkinses were his nearest neighbours. Martha +baked his bread for him, and seldom gave him his basket of newly made +loaves that it did not contain a pie, a loaf of cake, or some other +expression of her good-will, all of which Arthur received very +gratefully. + +He never knew what pleasure it gave her to do this for him, and +although she knew he was engaged to be married to a young lady in +England, it was the one bright evening of the week for her when he +came over, to get his weekly allowance. + +Martha had never heard of unrequited love. The only books she had +read were the Manitoba Readers as far as Book IV, and they are +noticeably silent on the affairs of the heart. In the gossip of the +neighbourhood she had heard of girls making "a dead set for fellows +who did not care a row of pins" for them, and she knew it was not +considered a nice thing for any girl to do; but it came to her now +clearly that it was not a subject for mirth, and she wondered why any +person found it so. + +As for Martha herself, the tricks of coquetry were foreign to her, +unless flaky biscuits and snowy bread may be so called; and so, day +by day, she went on baking, scrubbing, and sewing, taking what +happiness she could out of dreams, sweet, vanishing dreams. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE RISING WATSONS + + + There is ever a song somewhere, my dear, + There is ever a something sings alway: + There's a song of the lark when the skies are clear + And the song of the thrush when the skies are gray. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +WHILE Martha Perkins was weaving sweet fancies to beguile the tedium +of her uneventful life, a very different scene was being enacted, a +few miles away, in the humble home of John Watson, C. P. R. +section-man, in the little town of Millford, where he and his wife +and family of nine were working out their own destiny. Mrs. Watson up +to this time had spent very few of the daylight hours at home, having +a regular itinerary among some of the better homes of the town, where +she did half-day stands at the washtub, with, a large grain sack +draped around her portly person, while the family at home brought +themselves up in whatever way seemed best to them. + +One day the fortunes of the Watson family suddenly changed, and in +such a remarkable way it would convince the most sceptical of the +existence of good working fairies. A letter came to Pearl, the eldest +girl, from the Old Country, and the letter contained money! + +When it became known in the community that Pearl Watson had received +a magnificent gift of money from the parents of the young Englishman +she had nursed while she was working for Mrs. Sam Motherwell, it +created no small stir in the hearts of those who had to do with other +young Englishmen. Parents across the sea, rolling in ancestral gold +and Bank of England notes, acquired a reality they had never enjoyed +before. The young chore boy who was working for five dollars a month +at George Steadman's never knew why Mrs. Steadman suddenly let him +have the second helping of butter and also sugar in his tea. Neither +did he understand why she gave him an onion poultice for his aching +ear, and lard to rub into his chapped hands. Therefore, when she +asked him out straight about his folks in the Old Country, and "how +they were fixed," he, being a dull lad, and not quick to see an +advantage, foolishly explained that he "didn't 'ave nobody belongink +to him"--whereupon the old rule regarding second helpings was as +suddenly restored. + +On the Monday morning after Pearl's return home she was the first +person up in the house. She made the porridge and set the table for +breakfast, and then roused all the family except Danny, who was still +allowed the privilege of sleeping as long as he wished and even +encouraged in this. + +After the family had eaten their breakfast Pearl explained her plans +to them. "Ma," she said, "you are not to wash any, more, and isn't it +lucky there's a new Englishwoman across the track there in 'Little +England,' that'll be glad to get it to do, and no one'll be +disappointed, and we'll go to the store to-day and get Sunday suits +all round for the wee lads and all, and get them fixed up to go to +Sunday-school and church twice a day. Ye'll have to learn what ye can +while the clothes last. Mary'll have a new fur collar, and Ma'll have +the fur-lined cape; and yer old coat, Ma, can be cut down for me. +Camilla'll help us to buy what we need, and now, Ma, let's get them +ready for school. Money's no good to us if we haven't education, and +it's education we'll have now, every last wan of us. Times has +changed for the Watsons! It seems as if the Lord sent us the money +Himself, for He can't bear to have people ignorant if there's any way +out of it at all, at all, and there's nearly always a way if +people'll only take it. So, Ma, get out a new bar of soap and let's +get at them!" + +But in spite of all Pearl and her mother could'do, there was only +enough clothing for two little boys, and Patsey had to stay at home; +but Pearlie beguiled him into good-humour by telling him that when he +grew to be a man he would keep a big jewellery store, and in +preparation therefor she set him at work, draped, in a nightdress of +his mother's, to cut watches and brooches from an old Christmas +catalogue. + +"Now, Mary, alanna," Pearl continued, "you're to go to school, too, +and make every day count, There's lots to learn, and it's all good. +Get as much as ye can every day. I'm goin' myself, you bet, when I +get things fixed up, and Teddy and all of us. We've got the money to +git the clothes, and we'll go as far with it as the clothes'll last." + +When Pearl, Mrs. Watson, and Camilla went that day to purchase +clothes for the family, they received the best of attention from the +obliging clerks. Mr. Mason, the proprietor, examined the cheque, and +even went with Pearl to the bank to deposit it. + +Then came the joyous work of picking out clothes for the whole +family. A neat blue and white hairline stripe was selected for Jimmy, +in preference to a pepper-and-salt suit, which Pearl admitted was +nice enough, but would not do for Jimmy, for it seemed to be making +fun of his freckles. A soft brown serge with a white belt with two +gold bears on it was chosen for Danny, and gray Norfolk jacket suits +for Tommy and Patsey--just alike, because Pearl said everybody knew +they were twins, and there was no use denying it now. A green and +black plaid was bought to make Mary a new Sunday dress, and a red and +black plaid for "days." Pearl knew that when Mary was telling a story +to the boys she always clothed her leading lady in plaid, and from +this she inferred how Mary's tastes ran! Stockings and shoes were +selected, and an assortment of underclothes, towels, toques, scarfs, +and overshoes assembled. + +It was like a dream to Pearl, the wildest, sweetest dream, the kind +you lie down and try to coax back again after you wake from it. She +could not keep from feeling Danny's brown suit and stroking lovingly +his shiny brown shoes. + +Then came a "stuff" dress for Ma, and Sunday suits for Pa, Teddy, and +Billy. By this time the whole staff were busy helping on the good +work. Mr. Mason had no fur-lined capes in stock, but he would send +for one, he said, and have it still in time for Sunday, for Pearl was +determined to have her whole family go to church Sunday morning. + +"My, what an outburst of good clothes there'll be," Camilla said. +"Now, what are you going to have for yourself?" + +Pearl had always dreamed of a wine-coloured silk, but she hesitated +now, for she had heard that silk did not wear well, and was a +material for rich people only, but that did not prevent the dream +from coming back. While Pearl was thinking about it, Mr. Mason and +Camilla held a hurried conference. + +"What about your favourite colour, now, Pearl?" Camilla asked. "Isn't +it a wine-coloured silk you always wish for when you see the new +moon?" + +Pearl admitted that it had been her wish for quite a while, but she +wanted to see overcoats first; so overcoats were bought and overcoats +sent on approval. There were yards and yards of flannelette bought to +be made into various garments. Pearl was going to have a dressmaker +come to the house, who, under Camilla's direction, would make all +sorts of things for the Watsons. + +Pearl's purchases were so numerous that two packing boxes were sent +up on the dray wagon, and it was a proud moment for her when she saw +them carried in and placed in the middle of the floor of the "room." + +"Now, set down," Pearl said firmly; "every wan of ye set on the +floor, so none of yer stuff can fall, and I'll give ye what's for ye. +But ye can't put them on till Sunday morning, that is the Sunday +things, and ye can't put on any of them till, to-morrow morning, when +ye'll be as clean as hot water and bar soap can make ye; for me and +Ma are going at ye all to-night. There's nothin' looks more +miserabler than a good suit of clothes with a dirty neck fornenst +it." + +Everybody did as Pearl said, and soon their arms were full of her +purchases. Danny was so delighted with the gold bears that he quite +neglected to look at his suit. Tommy was rubbing his chin on his new +coat to see how it felt. Patsey was hunting for pockets in his, when +some one discovered that Bugsey was in tears, idle, out-of-place +tears! Mrs. Watson, in great surprise, inquired the cause, and, after +some coaxing, Bugsey whimpered: "I wish I'd always knew I was goin' +to get them!" + +Mrs. Watson remonstrated with him, but Purl interposed gently. "L'ave +him alone, Ma; I know how he feels! He's enjoyin' his cry as much as +if he was laughin' his head off!" + +An hour was spent in rapturous inspection, and then everything was +placed carefully back in the boxes. That night, after supper, there +came a knock at the door, and a long pasteboard box, neatly tied with +wine-coloured ribbon, was handed in. On its upper surface it bore in +bold characters the name of "Miss P. Watson," and below that, "With +the compliments of Mason & Meikle." + +Excitement ran high. + +"Open it, Pearlie dear," her mother said. "Don't stand there gawkin' +at it. There'll be something in it, maybe." + +There was something in it for sure. There was a dress length of the +softest, springiest silk, the kind that creaks when you squeeze it, +and it was of the shade that Pearl had seen in her dreams. There were +yards of silk braid and of cream net. There were sparkling buttons +and spools of thread, and a "neck" of cream filling with silver +spangles on it, and at the bottom of the box; rolled in tissue paper, +were two pairs of embroidered stockings and a pair of glittering +black patent leather slippers that you could see your face in! + +"Look at that now!" Mrs. Watson exclaimed. "Doesn't it beat all?" + +But Pearl, breathing heavily, was in a state of wordless delight. +"It's just as well I wasn't for scoldin' Bugsey for cryin' over his +suit," she said at length; "for if it wasn't that I'm feart o' +spottin' some of these, I'd be for doin' a cry myself. I've got such +a glad spot here in me Adam's apple. Reach me yer apron, Ma--it's +comin' out of me eyes in spite of meself. Camilla must ha' told them +what I would like, and wasn't it kind of them, Ma, to ever think o' +me? And who'd ever 'a' thought of Mr. Mason being so kind, and him so +stern lookin'?" + +"Ye never can tell by looks, Pearlie," her mother said sententiously. +"Many's the kind heart beats behind a homely face." Which is true +enough in experience, though perhaps not quite in keeping with the +findings of anatomical science. + +That night there were prohibitory laws made regarding the taking of +cherished possessions to bed by the owners thereof; but when the +lights were all out, and peaceful slumber had come to the little +house, one small girl in her nightgown went quietly across the bare +floor to the lounge in the "room" to feel once more the smooth +surface of her slippers and to smell that delicious leathery smell. +She was tempted to take one of them back with her, but her conscience +reminded her of the rule she had made for the others, and so she +imprinted a rapturous kiss on the sole of one of them, where it would +not show, and went back to her dreams. + +All week the sound of the sewing machine could be heard in the Watson +home, as Mary Barner, Camilla, Mrs. Watson, and one real dressmaker +fashioned various garments for the young Watsons. Even Mrs. Francis +became infected with the desire to help, and came over hurriedly to +show Mrs. Watson how to put a French hem on her new napery. But as +the only napery, visible or invisible, was a marbled oilcloth tacked +on the table, Mrs. Francis was unable to demonstrate the principle of +French hemming. Camilla, however, showed her mistress where to work +the buttonholes on Patsey's nightshirt, and later in the afternoon +she felled the seams in Mary's plaid dress. + +Saturday night brought with it arduous duties, for Pearl was +determined that the good clothes of her family would not be an +outward show only. + +On Sunday morning, an hour before church time, the children were all +dressed and put on chairs as a precaution against accidents. Mrs. +Watson's fur-lined cape had come the night before, and Camilla had +brought over a real winter hat in good repair, which Mrs. Ducker had +given her. Mrs. Ducker said it was really too good a hat to give +away, but she could not wear it with any comfort now, for Mrs. +Grieves had one almost the same. Mrs. Ducker and Mrs. Grieves had had +a slight unpleasantness at the last annual Ladies' Aid dinner, the +subject under discussion being whether chickens should be served with +or without bones. + +Camilla came for the boys on Sunday morning, and took them for Mrs. +Francis to see, and also for the boys to see themselves in the long +mirror in the hall. Danny sidled up to Mrs. Francis and said in a +confidential whisper: "Ain't I the biggest dood in the bunch?" + +When the others had admired their appearance sufficiently and filed +back to the dining-room, Bugsey still stood before the glass, +resolutely digging away at a large brown freckle on his cheek. He +came out to Camilla and asked her for a sharp knife, and it was with +difficulty that he was dissuaded from his purpose. When Mrs. Francis +saw the drift of Bugsey's intention, she made a note in her little +red book under the heading, "The leaven of good clothes." + +Just as they went into church Pearlie gave them her parting +instructions. + +"Don't put yer collection in yer mouths, ye might swallow it; I'ave +it tied up in yer handkerchiefs, and don't chew the knot. Keep yer +eye on the minister and try to understand all ye can of it, and look +like as if ye did, anyway!" + +John Watson, coached by Pearl, went first and waited at the end of +the seat to let the whole flock march past him. There was one row +full and four in the row behind. Pearl sat just behind Danny, so that +she could watch his behaviour from a strategic point. + +The minister smiled sympathetically when he saw the Watson family +file in. He had intended preaching a doctrinal sermon on baptism, but +the eager faces of the Watson children inspired him to tell the story +of Esther. Even Danny stayed awake to listen, and when it came to an +end and Mr. Burrell told of the wicked Haman being hanged on the +scaffold of his own making, Patsey whispered to Bugsey in a loud "pig +whisper:" "That's when he got it in the neck!" Mrs. Watson was +horrified beyond words, but Pearl pointed out that while it was +beyond doubt very bad to whisper in church, still what Patsey said +showed that he had "sensed what the story was about." + +The next week she dramatized the story for the boys. Jimmy was always +the proud and haughty Ahasuerus, his crown made of the pasteboard of +the box his father's new cap came in. Bugsey was the gentle Esther +who came in trembling to see if she would suit his Majesty. The +handle of a dismembered parasol was used for the golden sceptre, and +made a very good one after Mary had wound it around with the yellow +selvage that came off her plaid dress. + +"You lads have got to play educated games now," Pearl had said, when +she started them at this one. "'Bull-in-the-ring,' 'squat-tag,' +'button, button, who's got the button?' are all right for kids that +don't have to rise in the world, but with you lads it's different. +Ye've got to make yer games count. When I get to school I'll learn +lots of games for ye, but ye must all do yer best now." + + + + +CHAPTER III + +"KNOWLEDGE IS POWER" + + + Pap wunct he scold and says to me, + Don't play too much, but try + To study more and nen you'll be + A great man by and by. + Nen Uncle Sidney says: "You let + Him be a boy and play. + The greatest man on earth, I bet, + 'Ud trade with him to-day." + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +PEARL started to school one Monday morning. She felt very brave until +she got into the girls' hall, where the long row of "store" coats, +fur caps and collars seemed to oppress her with their magnificence. + +Maudie Ducker's 'coon coat and red scarf seemed to be particularly +antagonistic, and she hung her mother's cut-down coat and her new +wool toque as far from them as possible. + +Outwardly calm, but with a strong tendency to bolt for home, Pearl +walked into the principal's room, and up to his desk, where he sat +making his register. + +He looked up inquiringly and asked curtly: "What-do you want?" + +"I am comin' to school, if you please," Pearl said calmly. + +"What do you know?" he asked, none too gently, for it was one of his +bad days. + +"Not much yet," Pearl said, "but I want to know a whole lot." + +He put down his pen and looked at her with interest. "We've plenty of +room for people who don't know things, but want to. We're short of +that kind. We've plenty of people here who think they know a lot and +don't want to know any more, but you're an entirely new kind." + +Pearl laughed--the easy, infectious laugh that won for her so many +friends. + +"You see," she said, "I've got to learn as fast as I can, now while +the money lasts, for there's so many of us. I'm ignorant for me age, +too. I'm thirteen now, and I haven't been to school since I was ten, +but I should be able to learn a whole lot, for I'm going to come as +long as this dress lasts anyway, and I've got sateen sleeves to put +on over it past the elbows to save it, for that's where it'll likely +go first, and I'm takin' long steps to keep my boots from wearin' +out, and I'm earnin' a little money now, for I've got the job of +takin' care of the school, me and Jimmy." + +The schoolmaster forgot that he was discouraged, forgot that he had +been having a hard time with Grade VIII's geography, forgot that he +had just made up his mind to quit teaching. He saw nothing but a +little girl standing eagerly before him, telling him her hopes, and +depending on him to help her to realize them. + +He put out his hand impulsively, and took hers. + +"Pearl," he said, "you're all right!" + +That night, when Pearl went home, she gave her family the story of +the Magna Charta, drawing such a vivid picture of King John's general +depravity that even her father's indignation was stirred. + +"That lad'll have to mend his ways," he said seriously, as he opened +the stove door to get a coal for his pipe, "or there will be trouble +coming his way." + +"And you bet there was," Pearl replied. "What did they do but all git +together one day, after they got the crop cut, and they drawed up a +list of things that he couldn't do, and then they goes to him, and +says they: 'Sign this, yer Highness;' and he takes the paper and +wipes his glasses on his hanky, and he reads them all over polite +enough, and then he says, says he, handing it back: 'The divil I +will!'" + +"Did he really say that, Pearlie?" her Mother asked. + +"Did he?" Pearl said scornfully. "He said worse than that, Ma; and +then they says, says they: 'Sign it, or there'll be another man on +yer job.' And says he, brave as ye please: 'I'll see ye some place +before I sign it,' and with that what did they do but jist sit down +where they were, lit their pipes, as unconcerned as could be, and +says they: 'Take yer time, your Highness, we're not in a hurry; we +bro't our dinners,' says they, 'an' we'll stay right here till ye +find yer pen,' and they just sat there on their hunkers talkin' about +the crops and the like o' that, until he signed it; which he did very +bad-mannered, and flung it back at them and says he: 'There now, bad +cess to yez, small good it'll do yez, for I'm the King,' says he, +'an' I'll do as I blame please, so I will. The King can do no wrong,' +says he. 'Well, then,' says one of them, foldin' up the Magna Charta +and puttin' it away careful in his breast pocket, 'the King can't +break his word, I guess,' and wid that he winks at the rest of them, +and they says, says they: 'That's one on you, yer Majesty!' But they +couldn't put him in good humour, and they do say, Ma, that when the +company was gone that that man cut up somethin' rough, cursed and +swore, and chewed up sticks, and frothed at the mouth like a mad dog, +and sure, the very next day, when he was driving through a place +called 'The Wash,' drunk as an owl, he dropped his crown, and his +little satchel wid all his good clothes in it, and him being the way +he was he never heard them splash. When he missed them he felt awful, +and went back to hunt for them, puddlin' round in his bare feet for +hours, and some say he had et too many lampreys, whatever that is, +for his breakfast, but anyway, he got a cowld in his head and he +died, so he did." + +"Wasn't that a bad state for the poor man to die in, childer dear," +said Mrs. Watson, wishing to give Pearl's story a moral value; "and +him full of wickedness and cursin'!" + +"And lampwicks, too, Ma!" Bugsey added. + +"Where he wuz now?" asked Danny, who had a theological bent. + +"Faith, now, that's not an easy thing to say for certain," said the +father gravely. "Things look pretty bad for him, I'm thinkin'." + +After some discussion as to John's present address, Pearlie summed it +up with a fine blending of charity and orthodoxy by saying: "Well, we +just hope he's gone to the place where we're afraid he isn't." + +The days passed fleet-footed with the Watson family--days full of +healthy and happy endeavour, with plenty to eat, clothes to wear, Ma +at home, and everybody getting a chance to be somebody. Pearl was the +happiest little girl in the world. Every night she brought home +faithfully what she had learned at school, at least the interesting +part of it, and when the day's work had been dull and abstract, out +of the wealth of her imagination she proceeded to make it +interesting. + +Under Pearl's sympathetic telling of it, they wept over the untimely +fate of Mary, Queen of Scots, and decided that Elizabeth was a bad +lot, and Mrs. Watson declared that if she "had aknowed all this +before, she would never ha' called Mary, Mary Elizabeth, because that +just seems like takin' sides with both parties," and she just +couldn't "abear people that do that!" + +Lady Jane Grey, the Princes in the Tower, Oliver Cromwell, the +unhappy Charles I, were their daily guests, and were discussed with +the freedom and interest with which dwellers in small towns are +popularly supposed to discuss their neighbours. + +All of the evening was not given up to pleasure. Pearl saw to it that +each child did his stint of home work, and very often a spelling +match was held, with Pearl as the teacher and no-fair-to-try-over. +The result of this was that Teddy Watson, Class V; Billy Watson, +Class III; Tommy and Jimmy Watson, Class IIA; Patsey and Bugsey +Watson, Class I, were impregnable rocks at the head of their classes +on whom the troublesome waves of "ei's" and "ie's," one "l" or two +"l's," beat in vain. + +Even John Watson, hard though his hands were with the handling of a +shovel, was not immune from this outburst of learning, and at +Pearlie's suggestion even he was beginning to learn! He filled pages +of her scribbler with "John Watson," in round blocky letters, and +then added "Millford, Manitoba." + +"Now, Pa," Pearlie said one night, "ain't there some of yer friends +ye'd like to write to, seein' as yer gettin' on so fine?" + +John had not kept up a close touch with his friends down east since +he came to Manitoba. + +"It's fifteen year," he said, "since I left the Ottaway valley, but +I'm thinkin' me sister Katie is alive. Katie was me oldest sister, +but I'm thinkin' it would take a lot to kill her!" + +"What was she like, Pa?" Pearl asked. + +John smoked on reminiscently. "She was a smart girl, was Kate, wid +her tongue. I always liked to hear her usin' it, on someone else. I +mind once me poor, father and Katie went to a circus at Arnprior and +father got into a bean and shell game. It looked rale easy at first +sight, and me father expected to make a bunch o' money, but instead +o' that, he lost all he had on him, and his watch, and so he came to +Katie and told her what had happened. Well, sir, they say that Katie +just gave a le'p and cracked her heels together, and, sir, she went +at yon man, and he gave back the money, every cent of it, and me +father's watch, too. The people said they never heerd language like +Katie used yon time." + +"She didn't swear, did she, John?' Mrs. Watson asked, in a shocked +tone, giving him a significant look which, interpreted, meant that +was not the time to tell the truth if the truth were incriminating. + +"No," John said slowly, "Katie would not waste her breath swearin'. +She told the man mostly what she thought of him, and how his looks +struck her, and what he reminded her of. I mind she said a rang o' +tang would lose friends if he changed faces with him, and a few +things like that, but nobody could say that Katie used language +unbecomin' a lady. She was always partick'ler that way." + +"Would you like to write to her and see how she is, Pa?" Pearl asked. + +"Well, now I don't care if I do," her father answered. + +The letter was written with infinite pains. The composition was +Pearlie's, and Pearlie was in her happiest mood, and so it really was +a very pleasant and alluring picture she drew of how John Watson had +prospered since coming west, and then, to give weight to it, she sent +a snapshot that Camilla had taken of the whole family in their good +clothes. + +"It seems to me," Mrs. Watson said one night, "like as if we are +gettin' on too prosperous. The childer have been gettin' on so well, +and we're all so happy like, I'm feart somethin' will happen. This is +too good to last." + +Mrs. Watson had a strain of Highland blood in her, and there was a +Banshee in the family two generations back, so it was not to be +wondered at that she sometimes indulged in gloomy forebodings. + +Every day she looked for something to happen. One day it did. It was +Aunt Katie from "down the Ottaway!" + + +Aunt Kate Shenstone came unannounced, unheralded by letter, card, or +telegram. Aunt Kate said you never could depend on the mails--they +were like as not to open your letter and keep your stamp! So she +came, carrying her two telescope valises and her handbag. She did not +believe in having anything checked--that was inviting disaster! + +Aunt Kate found her way to the Watson home under the direction of +Wilford Ducker, who had all his previous training on the subject of +courtesy to strangers seriously upset by the way Jimmy Watson talked +to him when they met a few days afterward. + +"You see, John," Mrs. Shenstone said to her brother, when he came +home, "it seemed so lucky when I got your letter. I always did want +to come to Manitoba, but Bill, that's my man, John, he was a sort of +a tie, being a consumptive; but I buried Bill just the week before I +got your letter." + +"Wus he dead?" Bugsey asked quickly. + +"Dead?" Aunt Kate gasped. "Well, I should say he was." +"My, I'm glad!" Bugsey exclaimed. + +Aunt Kate demanded an explanation for his gladness. + +"I guess he's glad, because then you could come and see us, Auntie," +Mary said. Mary was a diplomat. + +"'Tain't that," Bugsey said frankly. "I am glad my Uncle Bill is +dead, cos it would be an awful thing for her to bury him if he +wasn't!" + +Mrs. Shenstone sat down quickly and looked anxiously around her +brother's family. + +"John," she said, "they're all right wise, are they?" + +"Oh, I guess so," he answered cheerfully, "as far as we can tell yet, +anyway." + +At supper she was given the cushioned chair and the cup and saucer +that had no crack. She made a quick pass with her hand and slipped +something under the edge of her plate, and it was only the keen eyes +of Danny, sitting beside her, that saw what had happened, and even he +did not believe what he had seen until, leaning out of his chair, he +looked searchingly into his aunt's face. + +"She's tuck out her teeth!" he cried. "I saw her." + +Pearlie endeavoured to quiet Danny, but Mrs. Shenstone was by no +means embarrassed. "You see, Jane," she said to Mrs. Watson, "I just +wear them when I go out. They're real good-lookin' teeth, but they're +no good to chew with. There must be something wrong with them. Mother +never could chew with them, either--they were mother's, you know and +I guess they couldn't ha' been made right in the first place." + +Patsey, who was waiting for the second table, came around and had a +look at them. + +"Them's the kind to have, you bet," he said to Tommy, who was also +one of the unemployed; "she can take them out if they ache, and let +them ache as much as they've' a mind to." Tommy had had some +experience with toothache, and spoke with feeling. + +Mrs. Shenstone was a woman of uncertain age, and was of that variety +of people who look as old when they are twenty-five as they will ever +look. She was dressed in rusty mourning, which did not escape the +sharp eyes of her young nephews. + +"When did you say Uncle Bill died?" Jimmy asked. + +"Just four weeks to-morrow," she said, and launched away into an +elaborate description of Bill's last hours. + +"Did you get yer black dress then?" Mary asked, before Pearl could +get her nudged into silence. + +"No; I didn't," Aunt Kate answered, not at all displeased with the +question, as Pearl was afraid she might be. "I got this dress quite a +while agone. I went into black when mother died, and I've never seen +fit to lay it off. Folks would say to me: 'Oh, Mrs. Shenstone, do lay +off your mournin',' but I always said: 'Mother's still dead, isn't +she? and she's just as dead as she ever was, isn't she? Well, then, +I'll stick to my crape,' says I; and besides, I knew all along that +Bill was goin' sooner or later. He thought sometimes that he was +gettin' better, but, land! you couldn't fool me, him coughin' that +dreadful hollow cough and never able to get under it, and I knew I +was safe in stickin' to the black. I kept the veil and the black +gloves and all laid away. They say keep a thing for seven years and +you'll find a use for it, if you've any luck at all. I kept mine just +six years, and you see, they did come in good at last." + +"I guess you were good and glad, weren't you, Auntie?" asked Tommy. + +Mrs. Watson and Pearl apologized as best they could for Tommy. + +"That's all right, now, Jane," Mrs. Shenstone said, chuckling +toothlessly; "youngsters will out with such things, and, now since +you've asked me, Tommy, I am not what you'd call real glad, though I +am glad poor Bill's gone where there ain't no consumption, but I miss +him every minute. You see, he's been with me sittin' in his chair for +the last four years, as I sat beside him sewin', and he was great +company, Bill was, for all he was so sick; for he had great sperrits, +and could argue somethin' surprisin' and grand. 'You're a good girl, +Katie,' was the last words he ever said. I never was no hand to make +a big palaver, so just as soon as the funeral was over I went right +on with my sewin' and finished up everything I had in the house, for +I needed the money to pay the expenses; and, besides, I made the +first payment on the stone--it's a lovely one, John, cost me $300, +but I don't mind that. I just wish Bill could see it. I often wish +now I had set it up before he went, it would ha' pleased him so. Bill +was real fond of a nice grave, that is, fixed up nice--he took such +an interest in the sweet alyssum we had growin' in the garden, and he +showed me just how he wanted it put on the grave. He wanted a +horseshoe of it acrost the grave with B. S. inside, made of pansies. +You see B. S. stands for Bill Shenstone, Blacksmith! + +"He was a real proud man, yer Uncle Bill was, and him just a +labourin' man, livin' by his anvil. Mind you, when I made him +overalls I always had to put a piece of stuff out on the woodpile to +fade fer patches. Bill never could bear to look at a patch of new +stuff put on when the rest was faded." + +"Well, he couldn't see the patch, could he, auntie?" Jimmy asked, +making a shrewd guess at the location of it. + +"Maybe he couldn't," Bill's wife answered proudly. "But he knew it +was there." + +"Where he wuz now?" Danny asked, his mind still turning to the +ultimate destiny. + +Mrs. Shenstone did not at once reply, and the children were afraid +that her silence boded ill for Bill's present happiness. She stirred +her tea absent-mindedly. "If there's a quiet field up in heaven, with +elm-trees around it," she said at last; "elm-trees filled with +singin' birds, a field that slopes down maybe to the River of Life, a +field that they want ploughed, Bill will be there with old Bess and +Doll, steppin' along in the new black furrow in his bare feet, +singin': + + There's a city like a bride, + just beyond the swellin' tide. + + +He always said that would be heaven for him 'thout no harp or big +procession, and I am sure Bill would never hear to a crown or such as +that. Bill was a terrible quiet man, but a better-natured man never +lived. So I think, Tommy, that your Uncle Bill is ploughin' down on +the lower eighty, where maybe the marsh marigolds and buttercups +bloom all the year around--there's a hymn that says somethin' about +everlasting spring abides and never witherin' flowers, so I take it +from that that the ploughin' is good all the year around, and that'll +just suit Bill." + +When the meal was over, Aunt Katie complacently patted her teeth back +into place. "I never like no one to see me without them," she said, +"exceptin' my own folks. I tell you, I suffer agonies when there's a +stranger in for a meal. Now, Jane, let's git the children to bed. +Mary and Pearl, you do the dishes. Hustle, you young lads, git off +your boots now and scoot for bed. I never could bear the clatter of +children. Come here, and I'll loosen your laces"--this to Bugsey, who +sat staring at her very intently. "What's wrong with you?" she +exclaimed, struck by the intent look on his face. + +"I'm just thinkin'," Bugsey answered, without removing his eyes from +the knothole on the door. + +"And what are you thinkin'?" she demanded curiously. + +"I'm just thinkin' how happy my Uncle Bill must be up +there...ploughin'...without any one to bother him." + +Mrs. Shenstone turned to her brother and shook her head gravely: +"Mind you, John," she said, "you'll have to watch yon lad--he's a +deep one." + + +Aunt Kate had only been a few days visiting at her brother John's +when the children decided that something would have to be done. Aunt +Kate was not an unmixed blessing, they thought. + +"She's got all cluttered up with bad habits, not havin' no family of +her own to raise," Pearl said. "She wouldn't jump up and screech +every time the door slams if she'd been as used to noises as Ma is, +and this talk about her nerves bein' all unstrung is just plain +silly--and as for her not sleepin' at nights, she sleeps as sound as +any of us. She says she hears every strike of the clock all night +long, and she thinks she does; but she doesn't, I know. Anyway, I'm +afraid Ma will get to be like her if we don't get her stopped." + +"Ma backed her up to-day when she said my face was dirty just after I +had washed it, so she did," Mary said with a grieved air. + +Nearly every one of them had some special grievance against Aunt +Kate. + +"Let's make her sign a Charta," Tommy said, "like they did with +John." + +The idea became immensely popular. + +"She won't sign it," said Bugsey, the pessimist. "Let her dare to +not," said Jimmy gravely, "and she shall know that the people are the +king." + +Pearl said that it would do no harm to draw up the paper anyway, so a +large sheet of brown paper was found, and Pearl spread it on the +floor. Mrs. Watson and Aunt Kate had gone downtown, so every person +felt at liberty to speak freely. Pearl wasn't sure of the heading and +so wrote: + + +Mrs. Kate Shenstone + +Please take notice of these things, and remember them to do them, and +much good will follow here and hereafter. + + +She read it over to the others, and everybody was well pleased with +it. + +After receiving suggestions from all, the following by-laws were +recommended to govern the conduct of Aunt Kate in future: + + +1. Keep your nerves strung. +2. Don't screech at every little noise. It don't help none. +3. Don't make nobody wash when they are already done so. +4. Sleep at night, snore all you want to, we don't stay awake to + listen to you. +5. Don't bust yourself to think of things for us to do. We kep the + wood-box full long before we ever saw you, also waterpail and + other errings. +6. Don't make remarks on freckles. We have them, and don't care, + freckles is honourable. (This was Jimmy's contribution.) +7. Don't always say you won't live long, we don't mind, only Mrs. + Jane Watson is picking it up now from you. We don't like it, + it ain't cheerful. +8. Don't interfere about bedtime. We don't with you. +9. Don't tell about children raised in idleness that turned out + bad. It ain't cheerful, and besides we're not. + + +Just then the cry was raised that she was coming, and the Magna +Charta was hastily folded up, without receiving the signatures. + +Aunt Kate, who was very observant, suspected at once that the +children had been "up to something." + +"What have you youngsters been up to now, while we were away?" she +demanded. + +There was a thick silence. Mrs. Watson asked the children to answer +their Auntie. + +Mary it was who braved the storm. "We've been drawing up a list of +things for you," she said steadily. + +Aunt Kate had seen signs of rebellion, and had got to the place where +she was not surprised at anything they did. + +"Give it here," she said. + +"Wait till it's signed," Pearl said. "It's Charta, Aunt Kate," she +went on, "like 'King John to sign." + +"I didn't hear about it. Pearl explained. + +"Let me see it, anyway." +Pearl gave her the document, and she retired to her room with it to +look it over. + +"Say, Pearl," said Jimmy, "go in there and get out my catapult, will +you? She may sign it and then cutup rough." + +There was no more said about it for several days, but Aunt Kate was +decidedly better, though she still declared she did not sleep at +night, and Pearl was determined to convince her that she did. Aunt +Kate was a profound snorer. Pearl, who was the only one who had ever +heard her, in trying to explain it to the other children, said that +it was just like some one pulling a trunk across the room on a bare +floor to see how they would like it in this corner, and then, when +they get it over here, they don't like it a bit, so they pull it back +again; "and besides that," Pearl said, "she whistles comin' back and +grinds her teeth, and after all that she gets up in the mornin' and +tells Ma she heard every hour strike. She couldn't hear the clock +strike anyway, and her kickin' up such a fuss as she is, but I'm +going to stop her if I can; she's our aunt, and we've got to do our +best for her, and, besides, there's lots of nice things about her." + +The next morning Pearl was very solicitous about how her aunt had +slept. + +"Not a bit better," Aunt Kate said. "I heard every hour but six. I +always drop off about six." + +"Did you really hear the clock last night, Auntie?" Pearl asked with +great politeness. + +"Oh, it's very little you youngsters know about lying awake. When you +get to the age of me and your mother, I tell you, it's different I +get thinkin', thinkin', thinkin', and my nerves get all unstrung." + +"And you really heard the clock?" Pearl said. "My, but that is +queer!" + +"Nothin' queer about it, Pearl. What's queer about it, I'd like to +know?" + +"Because I stopped the clock," Pearl said, "just to see if you could +hear it when it's stopped," and for once Aunt Kate, usually so ready +of speech, could not think of anything to say. + +Aunt Kate went to bed early the next night, leaving the children +undisturbed to enjoy the pleasant hour as they had done before she +came. The next morning she handed Pearl the sheet of brown paper, and +below the list of recommendations there it was in bold writing: + + +"Kate W. Shenstone." + + +"See that, now," said Pearl triumphantly, as she showed it to the +children, "what it does for you to know history!" + +"Say," said Jim, "where could we get some of them things, what did +you call them, Pearl?" + +"'Twouldn't do any good, she wouldn't eat them," Billy said. + +"Lampreys or lampwicks, or somethin' like that." + +"Now, boys," said Pearl, "that's not right. Don't talk like that. It +ain't cheerful." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +SOMETHING MORE THAN GESTURES + + + Wanting is--what? + Summer redundant, + Blueness abundant. + Where is the blot? + + _----Robert Browning._ + + +PEARLIE WATSON, the new caretaker of the Milford school, stood broom +in hand at the back of the schoolroom and listened. Pearlie's face +was troubled. She had finished the sweeping of the other three rooms, +and then, coming into Miss Morrison's room to sweep it, she found +Maudie Ducker rehearsing her "piece" for the Medal Contest. Miss +Morrison was instructing Maudie, and Mrs. Ducker would have told you +that Maudie was doing "beautifully." + +Every year the W. C. T. U. gave a silver medal for the best reciter, +and for three consecutive years Miss Morrison had trained the winner; +so Mrs. Ducker was naturally anxious to have Maudie trained by so +successful an instructor. Miss Morrison had studied elocution and +"gesturing." It was in gesturing that Maudie was being instructed +when Pearlie came in with her broom. + +It was a pathetic monologue that Miss Morrison had chosen for Maudie, +supposed to be given by an old woman in a poorhouse. Her husband had +died a drunkard and then her only son, "as likely a lad as you ever +saw," had also taken to "crooked ways and left her all alone." One +day a man came to visit the poorhouse, and poor "old Nan," glad of +any one to talk to, tells all her story to the sympathetic stranger, +asking him at last wouldn't he try to find and save her poor Jim, +whom she had never ceased to pray for, and whom she still believed in +and loved. Then she discovered the man to be in tears, and of course +he turns out to be the long-lost Jim, and a happy scene follows. + +It is a common theme among temperance reciters, but to Pearlie it was +all new and terrible. She could not go on with her sweeping--she was +bound to the spot by the story of poor old Nan and her woes. + +Miss Morrison was giving Maudie instruction on the two lines: + + "It is the old, sad, pitiful story, sir, + Of the devil's winding stair." + +Neither of them had time to think of the meaning--they were so +anxious about the gestures. Maudie did a long, waving sweep with +three notches in it, more like a gordon braid pattern than a stair, +but it was very pretty and graceful, and Miss Morrison was pleased. + + "And men go down and down and down + To darkness and despair." + +Maudie scalloped the air three times evenly to indicate the down +grade. + + "Tossing about like ships at sea + With helm and anchor lost." + +Maudie certainly gave the ships a rough time of it with her willowy +left arm. Miss Morrison said that to use her left arm to toss the +ships would add variety. + + "On and on thro' the surging waves, + Not caring to count the cost." + +Maudie rose on the ball of her left foot and indicated "distance" +with the proper Delsarte stretch. + +* * * + +It was dark when Pearl got home. "Maudie Ducker has a lovely piece," +she began at once; "but she spoils it--she makes a fool of it." + +The family were just at supper, and her mother said reprovingly, "O +Pearlie! now, sure Miss Morrison is teaching her, and they do be +sayin' she's won three medals herself.'" + +"Well," Pearlie said, unconvinced, "them kind of carrin's-on may do +fine for some pieces, but old women wid their hearts just breakin' +don't cut the figger eight up in the air, and do the Dutch-roll, and +kneel down and get up just for show--they're too stiff, for one +thing. Ye can't listen to the story the way Maudie carries on, she's +that full of twists and turnin's. Maudie and Miss Morrison don't care +a cent for the poor owld woman." + +"Tell us about it, Pearlie," the young Watsons cried. "Well," Pearl +began, as she hung up her thin little coat behind the door, "this Nan +was a fine, purty girl, about like Mary there, only she didn't have a +good pa like ours; hers used to come home at night, full as ye plaze, +and they were all, mother, too, scairt to death purty near. Under the +bed they'd go, the whole bilin' of them, the minute they'd hear him +comin' staggerin' up to the cheek of the dure, and they'd have to +wait there 'ithout no supper until he'd go to sleep, and then out +they'd come, the poor little things, eyes all red and hearts beatin', +and chew a dry crust, steppin' aisy for fear o' wakin' him." + +"Look at that now!" John Watson exclaimed, pausing with his knife +half way to his mouth. + +"That ain't all in the piece," Pearl explained; "but it's understood, +it says something about 'cruel blows from a father's hand when rum +had crazed his brain,' and that's the way poor Nan grew up, and I +guess if ever any girl got a heart-scald o' liquor, she did. But she +grew up to be a rale purty girl, like Mary Barrier, I think, and one +day a fine strappin' fellow came to town, clerkin in a store, steady +enough, too, and he sees Nan steppin' out for a pail of water one day +and her singin' to herself, and sez he to himself: 'There's the girl +fer me!' and he was after steppin' up to her, polite as ye plaze +(Pearl showed them how he did it), and says he: 'Them pails is heavy +for ye, miss, let me have them." + +"And after that nothin' would do him but she must marry him, and he +was as fine a lookin' upstandin' fellow as you'd see any place, and +sure Nan thought there had never been the likes of him. After that +she didn't mind the old man's tantrums so much, for she was thinkin' +all the time about Tom, and was gittin' mats and dish-towels made. +And they had a fine weddin', with a cake and a veil and rice, and the +old man kept straight and made a speech, and it was fine. And now, +Ma, here's the part I hate to tell yez--it seems so awful. They +hadn't been married long before Tom began to drink, too." + +"The dirty spalpeen!" John angrily. + +"Ye may well say that, Pa, after all she had to stand from the old +man. But that's what the piece said: + + "But Tom, too, took to drinkin'; + He said 'twas a harmless thing; + So the arrow sped and my bird of hope + Came down with a broken wing." + +The Watson family were unanimous that Tom was a bad lot! + +"Tom cut up worse than the old man, and she used to have to get some +of the neighbours to come in and sit on his head while she tuk his +boots off, and she'd have clean give up if it hadn't been for her +little boy, like Danny there; but if I ever thought that our Danny +would go back on us the way that young Jim went back on his ma, I +don't know how I'd stand it." + +"What did he do, Pearlie?" Mary asked. + +"Soon as he got big enough nothin' would do him but he'd drink too, +and smoke cigarettes and stay out late, and one day stole somethin', +and had to scoot, and she says so pitiful: + + 'I've never seen my poor lost boy + From that dark day to this.' + +Then the poorwoman goes to the poorhouse, mind you!" + +"God help us!" cried Mrs. Watson, "did it come to that?" + +"Yes, Ma; but what d'ye think? One day a finelookin' man came in to +see all the old folks, silk hat and kid gloves on him and all that, +and this poor woman got talkin' to him, and didn't she up and tell +him the whole story, same as I'm tellin' you, only far more pitiful, +and sure didn't she end up by beggin' him to be kind to her poor +Jimmy if he ever comes across him; and tellin' him how she always +prays for him and knows he'll be saved yet. She never held it against +the young scamp that he never writ back even the scratch of a pen, +just as full of excuses for him as Ma would be if it was one of you +lads," and Pearl's voice quivered a little. + +"But sure, now, it is wonderful how things turn out!" Pearlie went +on, after she had wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her checked apron, +"for wasn't this Jim all the time forninst her, and her not knowin' +it, and didn't he grab her in his arms and beg her to forgive him; +and he cried and she cried, and then he took her away with him, and +she had a good time at last." + +The next day Pearl borrowed the book from Maudie Ducker and learned +the words, and for several evenings recited them to her admiring and +tearful family. Then, to make it more interesting, Pearl let the +young Watsons act it. Jimmy spoke right up and says he: "I bo'r to be +the old man, and come home drunk," but as this was the star part, +Jimmy had to let Tommy and Billy have it sometimes. + +The first scene was the father's spectacular homecoming. The next +scene was the wedding, and Jimmy made the speech after Pearl had +coached him, and in most feeling terms he warned his son-in-law +against the flowing bowl, and told what a good girl his little Nancy +was, and what a bad pa he'd been; and then he broke down and cried +real tears, which Pearl said was "good actin'." The third scene was +where Tom came home drunk. It was somewhat marred by Mary, who was +playing the part of the broken-hearted bride, and was supposed to +burst into tears when she saw the condition of her husband, and say: + + "So the arrow has sped and my bird of hope + Comes down with a broken wing." + +Now Mary had her own ideas of how intemperate husbands should be +dealt with, and she had provided herself with a small, flat stick as +she sat waiting in what was supposed to be joyful anticipation for +her liege lord's homecoming. When she discovered his condition she +cut out the speech about the "bird of hope," and used the stick with +so much vigour that it seemed he was in more danger than the bird of +hope of having a broken wing. Billy, the bridegroom, was naturally +indignant, but his father was disposed to approve of Mary's methods. +"Faix, I'm thinkin'," he said, "there'd be less of it if they got +that every time they cum home that way." + +Scene IV was the young son (Patsey) fleeing from the hands of +justice. Pearlie hid him behind the flour-barrel until the two +sleuths of the law, Danny and Tommy, passed by, and then he was +supposed to do his great disappearing act through the cellar window. + +Scene V was the most important of all. It was the poorhouse, and +required a good deal of stage-setting. All evidences of wealth had to +be carefully eradicated. The cloth was taken from the table, and the +one mat lifted off the floor. Newspapers were pinned over the +windows, and the calendars were turned with their faces to the wall. +The lamp with the cracked chimney was lighted instead of the "good +lamp," and then Pearlie, with her mother's old black shawl around her +shoulders, ceased to be Pearlie Watson and became poorhouse Nan, +widowed, deserted, old as the world itself, with heartbreak and +tears. + +John Watson sat and listened to her with a growing wonder in his +heart, but as the story went on even he forgot that it was Pearl, and +shed many unashamed tears over the sorrows of poorhouse Nan. + +Camilla came in one night and heard Pearl recite it all through. + +The morning of the contest an emergency meeting of the W. C. T. U. +was hurriedly called at the home of Mrs. Francis. What was to be +done? Maudie Ducker and Mildred Bates had the measles, and could not +recite, which left only four reciters. They could do with five, but +they could not go on with four. The tickets were sold, the hall +rented, the contest had been advertised over the country! Who could +learn a recitation in a day? Miss Morrison was sent for. She said it +was impossible. A very clever pupil might learn the words, but not +the gestures, and "a piece" was nothing without gestures. Mrs. White +again exclaimed: "_What shall we do?_" + +Mrs. Francis said: "We'll see what Camilla says." + +Camilla came and listened attentively while the woes of the W. C. T. +U. were told her. It was with difficulty that she restrained an +exclamation of delight when she heard that they were short of +reciters. "Pearl Watson knows Maudie's selection," she said quietly, +"and recites it very well, indeed!' + +"Impossible!" Miss Morrison exclaimed. "She has had no lessons." + +"I think she watched you training Maudie," Camilla ventured. + +"Only once," Miss Morrison replied, "and she can not possibly know +the gestures; but we will be glad to have any one fill in. People +will not expect her to do very well when she has had no training," +she added charitably. + +When Camilla returned to the kitchen she was smiling gently. "There's +a surprise coming to little Miss Morrison," she said. + +* * * + +That night the hall was full to the door, and people stood in the +aisles. Everybody loves a contest. Pearl and the other four +contestants sat in a front seat. The latter were beautifully dressed +in white net over silk, with shoes and stockings of white, and +numerous bows of ribbon. + +By the draw that Miss Morrison made, Pearl came last on the +programme, and Miss Morrison kindly asked the chairman to explain +that Pearl had had no training whatever, and that she had only known +that she was going to recite that morning Miss Morrison wished to be +quite fair! + +Camilla sat beside Pearl. She had dressed Pearl for the occasion, and +felt rather proud of her work as she sat beside Contestant No. 5. +Pearl's brown hair was parted and brushed smoothly back, and tied +with two new bright red ribbons--Camilla's gift. It did not occur to +Pearl that she was in the race for the medal. She was glad of a +chance to fill in and help the contest along. + +John Watson, Mrs. Watson, and all the little Watsons were present, +and filled two side seats. Mr. Francis had heard something from +Camilla that caused him to send tickets to the whole Watson family, +and even come himself, which was an unprecedented event. + +Lucy Bates was the first contestant, and made her parents and many +admiring relatives very proud of the a flutter of lace. + +Maude Healy--the star reciter of the Hullett neighbourhood--recited +"How Father Signed the Pledge," in a good, clear, ringing voice, and +the Hullett people thought they were just as sure of the medal as if +they saw the chairman pinning it on Maude. + +Two other girls recited, with numerous gestures, selections of the +same class; in which wayward sons, stormy nights, and railway +accidents figured prominently. + +Then the chairman made the explanation in regard to Pearl's +appearance, and asked her to come forward and recite. Camilla gave +her hand an affectionate little squeeze as she left the seat, and, +thus fortified, Pearlie Watson faced the sea of faces unflinchingly. +Then came that wonderful change--the little girl was gone, and an old +woman, so bowed, so broken, began to tell her story, old enough to +most of us, but strong always in its gripping pathos--the story of a +child cheated of her birthright of happiness because some men will +grow rich on other men's losses and fatten on the tears of little +children. The liquor traffic stood arraigned before the bar of God as +the story went on, unfolding darker and darker chapters in the +woman's life. It had been the curse that had followed her always, had +beaten and bruised her, never merciful. + +The people saw it in its awfulness, and the pity of it rolled over +them as they listened to that sad, old, cracked voice. + +When she came to the place where she begged the well-dressed stranger +to try and save her boy, and, clasping her trembling hands besought +the God of Heaven to bear with her Jim a little longer, and let her +see the desire of her heart, her son redeemed and forgiven, there was +an audible sob from some one in the back of the hall, and many a boy +away from home, careless and forgetful of his own mother, remembered +her now with sudden tenderness. The words of the prayer were stiff +and unnatural, but when did the Spirit of God depend upon felicity of +expression? It can abound wherever there is the honest heart, and +when Pearl, with tears flowing down her cheeks, but with voice steady +and clear, thanked the God of all grace for sending her the answer to +her prayers, even the dullest listener got a glimmering of the truth +that there is "One behind the shadows who keeps watch above His own." + +When Pearl had finished, the audience sat perfectly motionless, and +then burst into such a tornado of applause that the windows rattled +in their casings. + +John Watson sat still, but his heart was singing within him "Pearlie, +Pearlie, God bless her!" + +When the judges met for their decision it was found that they had +forgotten to mark Pearl as to memory, gesture, pronunciation, etc., +as their rules required them to do. + +Father O'Flynn, the little Irish priest, wiping his eyes +suspiciously, said: "Gentlemen, my decision is for Number 5." The +other two nodded. + +And so it came about that Pearlie Watson was once more called to face +the large and cheering audience, while Father O'Flynn, with many kind +words, presented her with the W. C. T. U. oratorical prize. + +Miss Morrison went home that night disturbed in spirit, wondering if, +after all, there might not be something more in it than gestures, +voice, memory, and articulation. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +AT THE CHICKEN HILL SCHOOL + + + Ho! I'm going back to where + We were youngsters! Meet me there, + Dear old barefoot chums, and we + Will be as we used to be, + Lawless rangers up and down + The old creek behind the town. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +IF a river is measured by the volume of water in its current, the +Souris River, on whose southern bank the little town of Millford is +built, is but an insignificant stream; but if bold and precipitous +banks, sheer cliffs, and a broad valley are to be considered, then +the Souris may lay claim to some distinction. For a few weeks in the +spring of the year, too, it is a swift and mighty flood that goes +sweeping through the valley, carrying on its turbulent waters +whirling ice-jams, branches of trees, and even broken bridge-timbers +from the far country known as the "Antlers of the Souris." When the +summer is very dry, the river shrinks to a gentle, trickling thread +of water, joining shallow pools, overhung with gray-green willows +that whiten in the breeze. + +At Millford, the Souris flows almost straight east and keeps this +direction for about three miles, and then turns sharply north toward +the Sand Hill country, where six miles farther on it joins the +Assiniboine. + +On one of its banks, just before it takes the northern turn, stands +the farmhouse of Thomas Perkins, a big white frame house, set in a +grove of maples; a mile south is the big stone house of Samuel +Motherwell, where Pearlie Watson wiped out the stain on her family's +honour by working off the old ten-dollar debt of her father's. + +Two miles farther east, on the old Turtle Mountain trail, stands the +weather-beaten schoolhouse where Martha Perkins got her meagre +education, and where Bud, her brother, was now attending. The +schoolhouse is bare and unlovely, without tree or flower. The rain +and the sun, the scorching winds of spring and winter's piercing +blizzards have had their way with it for many years, and now it +defies them all, for its paint is all gone, and it has no beauty for +them to fade. + +A straggling woodpile and a long straw covered shed stand near it. +Three windows, curtainless and staring, are in each side, and a small +porch with two steps leading up to it is at the south end. Here the +gophers frolic in the quiet summer afternoons, and steal what is left +of the children's dinners from the tin pails behind the door. The +porch smells of crumbs. + +Away to the east, Oak Creek runs through a wooded belt of fertile +lands, its tall elms and spruce giving a grateful shade to the +farmers' cattle. To the north are the sand-hills of the Aissinboine, +where stiff spruce trees stand like sentinels on the red sand; but no +tiny seedling had ever been brought to the school-yard, no kind hand +had ever sought to relieve that desolate grayness, bleak and lonely +as a rainy midnight in a deserted house. + +Inside, the walls are dull with age, so dark and smoked you would +think they could become no darker shade, but on the ceiling above the +long stovepipe that runs from the stove at the door to the chimney at +the other end, there runs a darker streak still. The stove is a big, +square box, set on four stubby feet, and bears the name "Sultana." + +Some small effort has been made to brighten the walls. One of Louis +Wain's cat pictures, cut from a London Graphic, is stuck on the wall +with molasses. There is a picture of the late King Edward when he was +the Prince of Wales, and one of the late Queen Victoria framed with +varnished wheat. There is a calendar of '93 showing red-coated +foxhunters in full chase. Here the decorations end abruptly. + +The teacher's desk is of unpainted wood, and on its lid, which lifts +up, revealing the mysteries of mysteries below, there run ancient +rivers of ink, pointing back to a terrible day when Bud Perkins +leaned against the teacher's desk in class. A black spot on the floor +under the teacher's chair shows just how far-reaching was Bud's +offence. + +The desks are all ink-stained and cut and inscribed with letters and +names. Names are there on the old desks that can be read now on +business and professional signs in Western cities, and some, too, +that are written in more abiding type still, on the marble slabs that +dot the quiet field on the river-bank. + +The dreariness of the school does not show so much in the +winter-time, when the whole landscape is locked in snow, and the +windows are curtained by frost-ferns. The big boys attend school in +the winter-time, too, for when there is nothing for them to do at +home the country fathers believe that it is quite proper to pay some +attention to education. + +It was a biting cold day in January. The Christmas and New Year's +festivities were over, and the Manitoba winter was settling down to +show just what a Manitoba winter can do in the way of weather. The +sky was sapphire blue, with fleecy little strings of white clouds, +an innocent-looking sky, that had not noticed how cold it was below. +The ground was white and sparkling, as if with silver tinsel, a +glimmer of diamonds. Frost-wreaths would have crusted the trees and +turned them into a fairy forest if there had been trees; but there +was not a tree at the Chicken Hill School, so the frost-wreaths lay +like fairy lace on the edges of the straw-covered shed and made +fairy frills around the straggling woodpile. Everything was +beautiful, blue and silver, sparkle and dance, glitter and glimmer. + +Out on the well-tramped school-yard the boys and girls were playing +"shinny," which is an old and honourable game, father or uncle of +hockey. + +Big Tom Steadman was captain of one side, and his fog-horn voice, as +he shouted directions and objurgations to his men and his opponents, +was the only discordant note in all that busy, boisterous, roaring +scene. + +Libby Anne Cavers was on the other side, and Libby Anne was a force +to be reckoned with, for she was little and lithe, and determined and +quick, with the agility of a small, thin cat. She was ten years old, +but looked about seven. + +Big Tom had the ball, and was preparing to shoot on the opposing +goal. He flourished his stick in the air with a yell of triumph, and +in his mind the game was already won. But he had forgotten Libby +Anne, who, before his stick reached the ground, had slipped in her +own little crook, and his stick struck the empty snow, for Libby Anne +was fast flying up the field with the ball, while the players +cheered. It was neatly done. + +Tom Steadman ran after her in mad pursuit, and overtook her just as +she passed the ball to Bud Perkins, who was the captain of her side. +Then Tom Steadman, coward that he was, struck her with his heavy +stick, struck fair and straight at her poor little thin shins, a +coward's blow. Libby Anne doubled up into a poor little whimpering, +writhing ball. + +A sudden horror fell on the field, and the game stopped. Bud Perkins +looked at her poor quivering little face, white as ashes now, his own +face almost as pale, and then, pulling of his coat, ran over to' +where Tom Steadman stood. + +"Drop yer stick, you coward, and stand up to me," he said in a voice +that rang with the blood-lust. + +Tom Steadman was older and bigger, and he felt very sure that he +could handle Bud, so his manner was full of assurance. + +The school closed in around them and watched the fight with the +stolid indifference of savages or children, which is much the same +thing. Big Tom Steadman dealt his cruel sledge-hammer blows on Bud, +on his face, head, neck, while Bud, bleeding, but far from beaten, +fought like a cornered badger. The boys did not cheer; it was too +serious a business for noisy shouting, and besides, the teacher might +be aroused any minute, and stop the fight, which would be a great +disappointment, for every boy and girl, big and little, wanted to see +Tom Steadman get what was coming to him. + +Bud was slighter but quicker, and fought with more skill. Big Tom +could hit a knockout blow, but there his tactics ended. He knew only +the one way of dealing with an antagonist, and so, when one of his +eyes suddenly closed up and his nose began to bleed, he began to +realize that he had made a big mistake in hitting Libby Anne when Bud +Perkins was there. With a clever underarm hold, Bud clinched with +him, and he fell heavily. + +Libby Anne, limping painfully, put her "shinny" stick into Bud's +hand. + +"Sock it to him now, Bud," she said, "now you've got him." + +Bud dropped the stick and tried to laugh, but his mouth would not +work right. + +"Get up, Tom," Bud said. "I won't hit you when you're down. Stand up +and let me at you again." + +Tom swore threateningly, but showed no disposition to get up. + +"I guess he's had enough," Bud said. "He's sorry he hit you now, +Libby Anne. He sees now that it's a dirty shame to hit a little girl. +He never thought much about it before. Come away, kids, and let him +think." + +When school was called, the whole story of the fight came out. + +Tom Steadman was the only son of one of the trustees--_the_ trustee, +indeed, the one who lived in the biggest house, was councillor of the +municipality, owned a threshing-machine, boarded the teacher, and +made political speeches--and so Bud's offence was not a slight one. + +A school meeting was called, to see what was to be done. Young Tom +was there, swollen of lip and nose, and with sunset shades around +both eyes. Libby Anne was there, too, but she had been warned by her +father, a poor, shiftless fellow, living on a rented farm, that she +must not say anything to offend the Steadmans, for Mr. Steadman owned +the farm that they were living on. + +The trial was decided before it began. The teacher, Mr. Donald, was +away attending the Normal, and his place was being filled by a young +fellow who had not enough courage to stand for the right. + +The question to be decided was this: Did Tom Steadman strike Libby +Anne with intent to hurt; or did he merely reprimand her gently to +"shinny on her own side"; or did she run under his stick when he +struck at the ball? Tom Steadman said she ran under his stick, and he +didn't see her, whereupon some of the children who were not living on +rented farms groaned. Several of the children gave their testimony +that Tom had without doubt struck her "a-purpose!" Then Mr. Steadman, +Tom's father, a big, well-fed man, who owned nineteen hundred acres +of land and felt that some liberty should be allowed the only son of +a man who paid such a heavy school-tax, took charge and said, fixing +his eyes on Bill Cavers, his poverty-stricken tenant: "Let us see +what Libby Anne has to say. I should say that Libby Anne's testimony +should have more weight than all these others, for these young ones +seem to have a spite at our Tom. Libby Anne, did Tom strike you +a-purpose?" + +"Be careful what you say, Libby Anne," her father said miserably, his +eyes on the ground. He owed Steadman for his seed-wheat. + +Libby Anne looked appealingly at Bud. Her eyes begged him to forgive +her. + +Mr. Steadman repeated the question. + +"Speak, Libby Anne," her father said, never raising his eyes. + +"Did Tom hit you a-purpose?" + +Libby Anne drew a deep breath, and then in a strange voice she +answered: "No." + +She flung out the word as if it burned her. + +Libby Anne was a pathetic figure in her much-washed derry dress, +faded now to the colour of dead grass, and although she was clean and +well-kept, her pleading eyes and pale face told of a childhood that +had been full of troubles and tears. + +Bud stared at her in amazement, and then, as the truth flashed on +him, he packed up his books, hot with rage, and left the schoolhouse. + +Bill Cavers hung his head in shame, for though he was a shiftless +fellow, he loved his little girl in his better moments, and the two +cruel marks on her thin little shins called loudly for vengeance; but +must live, he told himself miserably. + +When Bud left the school Libby Anne was in her seat, sobbing +bitterly, but he did not give her a glance as he angrily slammed the +door behind him. + +Two days after this, Bud was drawing wood from the big bush north of +the Assiniboine, and as he passed the Cavers home Libby Anne, with a +thin black shawl around her, came running out to speak to him. + +"Bud," she called breathlessly, "I had to say it. Dad made me do it, +'cos he's scairt of old man Steadman." + +Bud stopped his horses and jumped down. They stood together on the +shady side of the load of poles. + +"That's all right, kid," Bud said. "Don't you worry. I liked lickin' +him." + +"But Bud," Libby Anne said wistfully, "you can't ever forget that I +lied, can you? You can't ever like me again?" + +Bud looked at the little wind-blown figure, such a little troubled, +pathetic face, and something tender and manly stirred in his heart. + +"Run away home now, Libby Anne," he said kindly. "Sure I like you, +and I'll wallop the daylight out of anybody that ever hurts you. +You're all right, Libby Anne, you bet; and I'll never go back on +you." + +The bitter wind of January came down the Souris valley, cold and +piercing, and cut cruelly through Libby Anne's thin shawl as she ran +home, but her heart was warmed with a sweet content that no winter +wind could chill. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PEARL'S UNRULY CONSCIENCE + + + We turn unblessed from faces fresh with beauty, + Unsoftened yet by fears, + To those whose lines are chased by love and duty + And know the touch of tears. + + _----Ella Wheekr Wikox._ + + +THE Watson family attended school faithfully all winter. Pearl took +no excuses from the boys. When Tommy came home bitterly denouncing +Miss Morrison, his teacher, because she had applied the external +motive to him to get him to take a working interest in the +"Duke--Daisy--Kitty" lesson, Pearl declared that he should be glad +that the teacher took such a deep interest in him. When Bugsey was +taken sick one morning after breakfast and could not go to school, +but revived in spirits just before dinner-time, only to be "took bad" +again at one o'clock, Pearl promulgated a rule, and in this Aunt Kate +rendered valuable assistance, that no one would be excused from +school on account of sickness unless they could show a coated tongue, +and would take a tablespoonful of castor oil and go to bed with a +mustard plaster (this was Aunt Kate's suggestion), missing all meals. +There was comparatively little sickness among the Watsons after that. + +Aunt Kate was a great help in keeping the household clothes in order. +She insisted on the children hanging up their own garments, taking +care of their own garters, and also she saw to it that each one ate +up every scrap of food on his or her plate, or else had it set away +for the next meal. But in spite of all this Aunt Kate was becoming +more popular. + +Thus relieved of family cares, Pearl had plenty of time to devote to +her lessons and the progress she made was remarkable. She had also +more time to see after the moral well-being of her young brothers, +which seemed to be in need of some attention--at least she thought so +when Patsey came home one day and signified his intention of being a +hotel-keeper when he grew up, because Sandy Braden had a diamond as +big as a marble. Patsey had the very last Sunday quite made up his +mind to be a missionary. Pearl took him into her mother's room, and +talked to him very seriously, but the best she could do with him was +to get him to agree to be a drayman; higher than that he would not +go--the fleshpots called him! + +Jimmy became enamored of the railway and began to steal rides in +box-cars, and once had been taken away and had to walk back five +miles. It was ten o'clock when he got home, tired happy. He said he +was "hungry enough to eat raw dog," which is a vulgar expression for +a little boy nine years old. + +Even Danny began to show signs of the contamination of the world, and +came swaggering home one night feeling deliciously wicked smoking a +liquorice pipe, and in reply to his mother's shocked remonstrance had +told her to "cut it out." + +Those things had set Pearl thinking. The boys were growing up and +there was no work for them to do. It was going to be hard to raise +them in the town. Pearl talked it over with Mr. Burrell, the +minister, and he said the best place to raise a family of boys was +the farm, where there would be plenty of employment for them. So +Pearl decided in her own mind that they would get a farm. It would +mean that she would have to give up her chance of an education, and +this to her was a very bitter sacrifice. + +One night, when everyone else was asleep, even Aunt Kate, Pearl +fought it all out. Every day was bringing fresh evidences of the evil +effects of idleness on the boys. Jimmy brought home a set of +"Nations" and offered to show her how to play pedro with them. Teddy +was playing on the hockey team, and they were in Brandon that night, +staying at a hotel, right within "smell of the liquor," Pearl +thought. The McSorley boys had stolen money from the restaurant man, +and Pearl had overheard Tommy telling Bugsey that Ben McSorley was a +big fool to go showing it, and Pearl thought she saw from this how +Tommy's thoughts were running. + +All these things smote Pearl's conscience and seemed to call on her +to renounce her education to save the family. "Small good your +learnin' 'll be to ye, Pearl Watson, if yer brothers are behind the +bars," she told herself bitterly. "It's not so fine ye'll look, all +dressed up, off to a teachers' convention in Brandon, readin' a paper +on 'How to teach morals,' and yer own brother Tommy, or maybe Patsey, +doin' time in the Brandon jail! How would ye like, Pearlie, to have +some one tap ye on the shoulder and say, 'Excuse me for troublin' of +ye, Miss Watson, but it's visitor's day at the jail, and yer brother +Thomas would like ye to be after stepping, over. He's a bit lonesome. +He's Number 23!'" + +Something caught in her throat, and her eyes were too full to be +comfortable. She slipped out of bed and quietly knelt on the bare +floor. "Dear God," she prayed, "ye needn't say another word. I'll go, +so I will. It's an awful thing to be ignorant, but it's nothin' like +as bad as bein' wicked. No matter how ignorant ye are ye can still +look up and ask God to bless ye, but if ye are wicked ye're re dead +out of it altogether, so ye are; so I'll go ignorant, dear Lord, to +the end o' my days, though ye know yerself what that is like to me, +an I'll try never to be feelin' sorry or wishin' myself back. Just +let me get the lads brought up right. Didn't ye promise someone the +heathen for their inheritance? Well, all right, give the heathen to +that one, whoever it was ye promised it to, but give me the +lads--there's seven of them, ye mind. I guess that's all. Amen." + +The next day Pearl went to school as usual, determined to make the +best use of the short time that remained before the spring opened. +All day long the path of knowledge seemed very sweet and alluring to +her. She had been able to compute correctly how long eighteen cows +could feed on a pasture that twenty-six horses had lived on eighteen +days last year, the grass growing day and night, three cows eating as +much as one horse; in Literature they were studying "The Lady of the +Lake," and Alan-bane's description of the fight had intoxicated her +with its stirring enthusiasm. Knowledge was a passion with Pearl; +"meat and drink to her," her mother often said, and now how was she +to give it up? + +She sat in her seat and idly watched the children file out. She heard +them racing down the stairs. Outside, children called gaily to each +other, the big doors slammed so hard the windows rattled and at last +all was still with the awful stillness of a deserted school. + +It was a warm day in March, a glorious day of melting sunshine, when +the rivers begin to think of spring, and 'away below the snow the +little flowers smile in their sleep. + +Pearl went to the window and looked out at the familiar scene. Her +own home, straggling and stamped with poverty, was before her. "It +does look shacky but it's home, and I love it, you bet," she said. +"Nobody would ever know to look at it the good times that goes on +inside." Then she turned and looked around the schoolroom, with its +solemn-looking blackboards, and its deserted seats littered with +books. The sun poured into the room from the western windows and +a thousand motes danced in its beams. The room smelled of chalk +and ink and mothballs, but Pearl liked it, for to her it was the +school-smell. + +"I'll purtend I am the teacher," Pearl said, "just for once. I'll +never be one now; I'm goin' to give up that hope, at least I'm goin' +to try to give it up, maybe, but I'll see how it feels anyway." She +sat in the teacher's chair and saw the seats filled with shadowy +forms. She saw herself, well-dressed and educated, earning a salary +and helping to raise her family from ignorance and poverty. + +"I am Miss Watson now," she said, as she opened the register and +called the names of her own making. "Me hair is done like Miss +Morrison's, all wadded out around me head, wid a row of muskrat +houses up the back, the kind I can take off and comb on the palm o' +me hand. I've got gold-fillin' in me teeth which just shows when I +laugh wide, and I'll do it often, and I've got a watch wid a deer's +head on it and me name on it, R. J. P. Watson, and I can talk like +they do in books. I won't ever say 'I've often saw,' I'll say 'I have +invariably observed.' I suppose I could say it now, but it doesn't +seem to fit the rest of me; and I'll be sittin' here now plannin' my +work for to-morrow, and all the children are wonderin' hard what I'm +thinkin' of. Now I'll purtend school is out. There's three little +girls out there in the hall waitin' to take me hand home, nice little +things about the size I used to be meself. I may as well send them +home, for I won't be goin' for a long time yet." She went into the +hall and in a very precise Englishy voice dismissed her admiring +pupils. "I am afraid I will be here too long for you to wait, childer +dear," she said, "I have to correct the examination papers that the +Entrance class wrote on to-day on elementary and vulgar fractions, +and after that I am goin' for a drive with a friend"--she smiled, but +forgot about the gold filling. "My friend, Dr. Clay, is coming to +take me. So good-bye, Ethel, and Eunice, and Claire," bowing to each +one. + +Pearl heard the scamper of little feet down the stairs, and kissed +her hand three times to them. + +"I'll just see if he's coming," she murmured to herself, going to the +window. + +He was coming, in her imagination and in reality. Dr. Clay was +driving up to the school, looking very handsome in his splendid +turn-out, all a-jingle with sleigh-bells. Pearl was so deep in her +rainbow dream she tapped gaily on the window. He looked up smiling +and waved his hand to her. + +Just then Miss Morrison came out and he helped her into the cutter +and they drove away. At the same moment Miss Watson with the +gold-filled teeth, and the merry widow puffs, disappeared and Pearl +Watson, caretaker of the Millford School, in a plain little serge +dress, beginning to wear in spite of sateen sleeve protectors, turned +from the window with a sudden tightening of the heart, and sought the +refuge of her own seat, and there on the cool desk she laid her head, +sobbing softly, strange new tears that were not all pain! + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +THE SECOND CHANCE + + + For age is opportunity no less + Than youth itself, though in another dress, + And as the evening twilight fades away + The sky is filled with stars, invisible by day. + + _----Longfellow._ + + +PEARL, having taken her resolve to leave school, did not repine, and +no one, not even her mother, knew how hard the struggle had been. It +all came out afterward that, John Watson, too, in his quiet way, had +been thinking of the advantages of farm life for his growing family. +So when Pearl proposed it he was ready to rise and second the motion. + +Nearly all the land around Millford had been homesteaded, and was +being successfully farmed, but there was one quarter-section in the +crook of the Souris that had been abandoned. Bill Cavers had entered +it some years before, and paid his ten dollar entrance fee, built a +little house on it, and farmed it indifferently for two or three +years; but poor Bill had to let it go at last. The numerous black +whiskey bottles around his miserable buildings told the story. The +land was good--it was only four miles from Millford--it could be +re-entered on payment of ten dollars. John Watson went out to see the +farm and came back well satisfied, so they decided to move out on it +as soon as the snow was gone. + +By selling the house and lot they had enough money to buy a team of +horses, a waggon, and some machinery. For seed grain and everything +else that was needed Pearl would take her money. Aunt Kate protested +loudly against having Pearlie's money taken, and said if it wasn't +that Bill's stone had come so high she'd spend her own rather than +have Pearlie's touched. But Pearl stoutly insisted that helping her +family in this way was just what she wanted to have done with her +money. + +Pearl had not seen the farm until she drove out with her father on +the first load. "A movin' gen'rally looks sort of sad, doesn't it, +Pa?" she said, as she settled herself on the dismembered beds. "But +there's nothin' sad about this movin'. We're not goin' because we +can't pay the rent, and there's goin' to be a notice of it in the +paper, too." + +"How do you know that, acushla?" her father asked her. + +"I wrote it myself. I was afraid Mr. Evans might forget. He's all +cluttered up wid politics, so I wrote it myself, and pinned it on his +door." + +"What did you say, Pearlie?" + +"I wrote this: Mr. and Mrs. John Watson and their interesting family +are leaving our midst to live on a farm, hoping to better their +circumstances and give the boys a chance to grow up decent." + +"Faith, that's puttin' it plain, Pearlie," her father laughed. +"You're gettin' to be real handy wid the pen." + +"I have a far lovelier one than that done, Pa; but I couldn't bear to +have it published in a newspaper, for every pryin' eye to see. So I +wrote it out in purple ink, and will just keep it in me scrapbook." + +"What was it, Pearlie?" + +"I wouldn't say it for everybody, Pa, for they wouldn't understand; +but I know you will. This is what I wrote: + + Farewell, sweet childhood's happy home, + For now we sadly haste away. + We'll leave your happy scene with tears-- + We tried to leave you yesterday, + But fate denied, for Adam Watt + Had broke the axle of his dray. + + Farewell, sweet childhood's happy home, + We're going out four weary mile, + We've gone to seek another home + And may not see you for a while. + But every inch of thee is dear, + And every stick in thy woodpile. + + Each mark upon thy wall is linked + With deepest meaning and with love, + See where young Bugsey spilled the ink, + Caused by his youngest brother's shove. + + See where wee Danny picked a hole-- + He knew no better tho', I guess. + The patch that covers it from sight + Is made of Pearlie's winsey dress. + + All through the dreary winter time + Thou sheltered us from cold so bleak + Thou sheltered us from wind and rain, + Save where thy kitchen roof did leak. + + When strangers come to live in thee, + And fill thy halls with noise and shout, + Still think, dear house, of those who once + Did from thy gates go in and out." + +"It's just grand," her father said admiringly, "and it's true, too. I +don't know where you get the things you think of." + +The road lay along the bank of the Souris, which still ran high with +the spring floods. The spring came early in Manitoba that year, and +already the cattle were foraging through the pastures to be ready for +the first blade of grass that appeared. The April sun flooded the +bare landscape with its light and heat. From the farm-yards they +passed came the merry cackle of hens. Horses and colts galloped gaily +around the corrals, and the yellow meadow larks on the fence-posts +rang out their glad challenge. The poplar trees along the road were +blushing with the green of spring, and up from the river-flats, +gray-purple with scrub oak and willow, came the indescribably sweet +spring smell. + +At the corner of Thomas Perkins's farm they turned straight north, +following the river. + +"There's our farm, Pearlie," her father said. + +What Pearl saw was one long field of old stubble, gray and faded, cut +out of the scrub, and at the end of the field, against a grove of +poplars, stood a little house, so sad, so battered, so broken, that +Pearl's stout heart almost sank. It was made of logs and plastered +with mud, and had settled down on one side, looking as ungainly and +tired as an old horse when he rests on one leg. There was a door in +the side next the road, with one window at each side of it--windows +with almost everything in them except glass. + +Pearl jumped down from the waggon and ran around her new home trying +to find something good about it. When her father came in after tying +up his horses, he found her almost in tears. + +"Pa," she said, "this is sadder than I ever thought it would be. I +wish it had been real dirty and shiftless; but look, Pa, they've +tried to keep it nice. See, it's been whitewashed, and there's a +place you can tell they've had a bit of oil-cloth behind the box the +wash basin sat on, to keep the spatters off the wall. And see here, +Pa," stooping to pick up a piece of cretonne from the rubbish on the +floor--"this has been a paper holder--there's beads sewed on it +around the flowers; and do you see yon little shelf? It's got tack +marks on it; she's had a white curtain on it, with knitted lace. I +know she has, and see, Pa"--looking behind the window casing--"yes, +sir, she's had curtains on here, too. There's the tack. She had them +tied back, too, and you can see where they've had pictures. I know +just what Mrs. Cavers is like--a poor, thin woman, with knots on her +knuckles. I could see her face in the house as we drove up to the +door, kind of crooked like the house, and gray and weather-beaten, +with teeth out. Houses always get to look like the people who live in +them. They've tried--at least she has, and she's failed. That's the +sad thing to me, Pa--she's tried. If people just set around and let +things go to smash and don't care, that's too bad but there's nothing +sad about it. But to try your livin' best and still have to go +under--that's awful!" + +Pearl walked to the window and wiped the cobwebs from it. + +"I know how she felt when she was standin' here watchin' fer Bill, +hopin' so hard that he's come home right this time, and bring the +list of things she asked him to bring with his wheat-ticket. I can +see she was that kind, always hopin'; if she wasn't that kind she +wouldn't ever have sewed the beads on. She'd stand here and watch for +Bill so full of hope and still so black afraid, and then it would +come on dark and she couldn't see anything but Perkins's light +winkin' through the trees, and then she'd lay out the supper, but not +eat a bite herself, but just wait, and wait, and wait. And then when +Bill did come she'd run out wid the lantern with her heart thumpin' +so, and her knees all weak and wobbly--and Bill, you know how he'd +be. Sandy Braden had got the wheat-ticket, and he hadn't paid a bill +or bro't a thing for the house, and so at last she saw she was beat +and done for; she saw that every hope she had had was a false one." + +They were putting up the stove now, and when it was set in place +Pearl said: "Let's get a fire goin' now, quick, Pa--and that'll cheer +us up." + +Her father went to the river and brought water, which they heated on +the stove, and then he scrubbed the floor while Pearl cleaned the +windows and put up the cheese-cloth curtains she had brought. She +went outside to see how the curtains looked, and came back well +pleased. + +"Pa," she said, "I've got a name for it. We'll call it 'The Second +Chance.'" + +"For why, Pearlie?" her father asked curiously. "Well, it just came +to me as I was lookin' round, what this farm has had to put up with +Bill Cavers. Here it is as good a farm as any around here, and it's +all run to weeds. I am sure this yard is knee-high with ragweed and +lamb's quarter in the summer, and the fields are all grown up with +mustard and wild-oats, and they're an abomination to any farm; and so +it has just sort, of give up and got discouraged, and now it lets in +any old weed that comes along, because it thinks it'll never be any +good. But here comes the Watsons, the whole bilin' of them, and I can +see over there, Pa"--taking him to the window--"the place the garden +will be, all nicely fenced to keep out the cattle; and over there, +under the trees, will be the chicken-house, with big white hens +swaggerin' in and out of it and down the ravine there will be the +pig-pasture, and forninst us will be acres and acres of wheat, and be +hind the bluff there will be the oat-field. I can see it, Pa." + +"Faith, and yer a grand girl at seein' things," her father said, with +his slow smile, "and I just hope yer right." + +"I'm sure of it," said Pearl, after a pause, "and that's why, we'll +call it 'The Second Chance,' for it's a nice kind name, and I like +the sound of it, anyway. I am thinkin', maybe that it is that way +with most of us, and we'll be glad, maybe, of a second chance. Now, +Pa, I don't mind tellin' ye that it was a sore touch for me to have +to leave school, and me doin' so well, but I am hopin' still that +some time, some place, perhaps, for me, too, like the farm, there may +be a second chance. Do you see what I mane, Pa?" + +"I see it, acushla," said her father. "And I'm thinkin' maybe there's +one for me, too." + +And all day long, as John Watson worked, there was a wish in his +honest heart, so earnest a wish that it formed a prayer, that he +might be able to give his children many of the things that had been +denied him; and it came to him, vaguely at first, but growing ever +clearer that in Pearlie, Teddy and the rest of them, and his desire +to do better for them, than he had done for himself, he was getting +his second chance. + +The next day saw the whole family moved out and safely landed on the +farm. Mrs. Watson, Aunt Kate and Pearlie were soon busy putting up +beds and setting the house in order. Teddy, who was fifteen years +old, and a strong boy for his age, was set to plow at once on the +field in front of the house, for it was still early in April, and +there was time to get in some crop. John Watson, when he got his +family and household goods safely landed, went to work, assisted by +Billy and Jimmy, to prop up the old stables and make them habitable +for the two cows. + +Mary was given the hardest task of all--to look after her four young +brothers--not to let them play in the mud, for obvious reasons; climb +trees, which is hard on the clothes; go in bare feet, which is not a +safe thing to do until after the 24th of May; or fall in the river, +which is a dangerous proceeding at any time. Mary was something of a +child-trainer, and knew what fascination the prohibited has for +people, and so marched her four young charges down to the river, +regaling them, as they went, with terrible stories of drowning and +shipwreck. They threw sticks in, pretending they were drowning +sailors, but that soon grew monotonous, for the sailors all made +their escape and went sailing serenely down the stream. The balm of +Gilead trees exuded their healing perfume on the cool breeze that +blew ceaselessly up the broad valley; a golden-brown chipmunk raced +up a tree and scolded at them from the topmost branches; overhead, in +the clear blue of the mid-heaven, a flock of wild geese, with +flashing white wings, honked away to the Brandon Hills, en route for +that northern lake that no man knows; while a flock of goldfinches, +like a shower of marigolds, settled on a clump of willows, singing +pauselessly. + +"Let's catch them and sell them," said Tommy, who had the stubby +hands of a money-maker. + +"What'll ye do with the money?" Patsey asked. + +But before Tommy could decide between an automobile and an Irish +mail, the goldfinches had crossed the river and were fluttering over +the purple branches of the leafless saskatoon bushes, which bordered +the stream. + +A jack-rabbit came gaily leaping down the road behind them, and at +sight of him the four boys set off in eager pursuit. Bugsey got right +in Tommy's way, which was a fortunate thing for the jack-rabbit, +because only for that Tommy would have had him he is pretty sure of +that. + +After the rabbit had gone from sight and the baffled hunters returned +to where Mary sat, Bugsey came in for a good deal of abuse from the +other three. Then, to change the conversation, which was rather +painful, Bugsey suggested: "What do you bet that fellow hasn't got a +nest somewhere around here? Say we have a look for it." + +A vigourous search began. Incidentally Tommy found a nest of mice, +and Patsey discovered a hawk's nest in a tree and was halfway up +before Mary saw him. She made him come straight down--climbing trees +was too hard on the clothes; but when she came back from looking up +Danny, who had dropped behind to look down a gopher's hole, she found +that Patsey had discovered a plan whereby he could climb up for the +lovely silver nest and not endanger the safety of his clothes, +either. He stood below the tree with the coveted nest in his arms, +covered with glory and scratches, but little else. + +When the boys got home everybody had something to show but Danny. +Tommy had his mouse's nest; Patsey had the hawk's nest; Bugsey had a +fungus. Danny was the only empty-handed one, but Pearlie cheered +him up wonderfully by predicting that he would get the very first +wood-tick when the season opened. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +A GOOD LISTENER + + + The prosperity of a joke lieth in the ear of thine friend. + + _----Shakespeare._ + + +WHILE John Watson was busy fixing the dilapidated stables, he was +joined by his nearest neighbour, Thomas Perkins, who was of a very +sociable nature, and loved the sound of his own voice. + +Thomas Perkins was a man of middle age, a stout man with a florid +countenance and dewy blue eyes; his skin was of that quality that is +easily roughened by the wind. He always spoke rapidly, and without +punctuation. + +"How do you do, Mr. Watson, how do you do? Just movin' in, eh? Well, +sir, I'm glad to see you; the little house looked lonely since Bill +and the wife left. Poor Bill, he was a decent chap, too; but he lost +his bet." + +"What was the bet about?" Mr. Watson asked, while the other man +stopped to light his pipe. + +"Well, you see, Bill bet the Government ten dollars that he could +make a living on this farm, and the Government puts up the farm +against the ten dollars that he can't. That's the way it goes. Nearly +every body wins when they bet with the Government. I made the same +bet twenty years ago, and it would take ten thousand dollars now to +get me off of old seventeen, north half; you see, I won my bet, but +poor Bill lost his. Still, it wasn't a fair race. Bill would have won +it if the Government hadn't put the whiskey in his way. You can be +pretty sure it's whiskey that wins it for the Government nearly every +time when the homesteader loses. You'll win yours, all right, no fear +of that. I made my start when I was nine years old; left home with +the wind in my back--that's all I ever got from home--and I started +right in to make my pile, and I guess I haven't done too bad, eh? +What's that?" + +Mr. Watson had not spoken, but the other man nudged him genially and +did not resent his silence at all. + +"First money I ever earned was from an old Scotch woman, picking +potatoes at eleven cents a day, and I worked at it twenty-five hours +a day, up an hour before day--there was no night there, you bet, it +was like heaven that way; and then when I got my sixty-six cents, +didn't she take it from me to keep. It was harder to get it back from +her than to earn it--oh, gosh! you know what the Scotch are like. Ye +see, my mother died when I was a little fellow, and the old man +married again, a great big, raw-boned, rangey lady. I says: 'Not for +mine,' when I saw her, and lit out--never got a thing from home and +only had about enough clothes on me to flag a train--and I've +railroaded and worked in lumber shanties. But a farm's the place to +make money. How many of a family have ye?" + +"Nine," John Watson said, after some deliberation. + +"Well, sir, you'll save a lot of hired help; that's the deuce, payin' +out money to hired help, and feedin' them, too. I lost two of my boys +when they were just little lads, beginnin' to be some good. Terrible +blow on me; they'd a been able to handle a team in a year or two, if +they'd a lived--twins they were, too. After raisin' them for six +years, it was hard--year of the frozen wheat, too--oh, yes, 'tain't +all easy. Now, there's old Bruce Simpson, back there at Pelican Lake. +It would just do you good to be there of a mornin.' He has four boys +and four girls, and just at the clip of five o'clock them lads jump +out of bed--the eight feet hit the floor at the same minute and come +leppin' down the stairs four abreast, each fellow with a lantern, +and get out to the stable and feed up. The four girls are just the +same--fine, smart, turkey-faced girls they are, with an arm like a +stove-pipe. You'll be all right with the help you've got--you'll have +nearly enough to run a threshin' mill. Any girls?" + +"Two girls," said John Watson. + +"Two! That's not so bad--they'll be needed all right to help the +missus. I have two girls, too; but one of them's no good--too much +like the mother's folks. You know the Grahams are all terrible +high-headed people--one of the old man's brothers is a preacher down +in the States--Professor Graham, they call him--and sir, they can't +get over it. Martha, my oldest girl, she's all right--straight +Perkins, Martha is--no nonsense about her; but Edith, she's all for +gaddin' round and dressin' up. 'Pa,' she says one day to me, 'I want +a piano'--that was the Graham comin' out of her--and I says, says I +'Edie, my dear, run along now and let me hear you play a toon on the +cream separator or the milkin'-stool,' says I; 'there's more money in +it.' But, by George! the wife kept at me, too, about this piano +business, just pesterin' the very life out o' me, until I got sick of +it. But I got them one at last--I was at a sale in Brandon, last +fall, and I got one for eighty dollars. I told them it cost four +hundred--you have to do it, when you're dealin' with wimmin'--they +like things to cost a lot. Well, sir, I got the worth of my money, +let me tell you. It's a big, long, dappled one, all carved with +grapes and lions. Two or three people can play it at once, and it's +big enough to make a bed on it when there's company. But what do you +think of this now? Oh, it has clean disgusted me. They don't like it +because it won't go in the parlour door, and there isn't room for it +in the hall, and if you'll believe me, it's sittin' out there in the +machine-shed--so I've got to take it down to Winnipeg and try to +change it. + +"You see, that's what comes o' lettin' young ones go to school. Since +Edie got her education she thinks she knows more than the rest of us. +My boy, young Bob--but we call him Bud--he's been to school a good +deal; but he and Steadman's boy had a row, and I guess Bud was put +out--I don't know. I was glad enough to get him home to draw poles +from the big bush. Old George Steadman is a sly old rooster, and the +other day he comes up to me in Millford, snuffin like a settin' +goose, and I saw there was something on his mind. 'What's wrong, +George?' I said. 'It's about them oats you promised me for seed,' he +said. I had promised him some of my White Banner oats this spring. +'Ye'll let me have them, will ye?' says he. 'I was wonderin' if it +made any difference about the boys quarrelin',' says he. I says: 'No, +George, it don't make no difference; if you have the money you can +have the oats, but don't expect me to take no security on mortgaged +property,' says I." + +Mr. Perkins slapped his patient listener on the back and laughed +uproariously. + +"You see, that was the worst thing I could say to him, for he's so +eternally proud of his land. He has nineteen hundred acres all paid +for, and him and the missus is always talkin' about it." + +"Did he have much when he started?" John Watson asked. + +"Well, I should say not. His wife had some money; but, you bet, she +has it yet. She was a Hunter; they're as tight as the bark to the +tree, every one of them--they'd skin a flea for the hide and tallow. +Well, I'll just tell you, she lent him forty dollars to buy a cow +with the first year they were in this country, with the understandin' +he'd pay her back in the fall. Well, the crop didn't turn out well +and he couldn't pay her, so she sold the cow, and the kids had to do +without milk. Well, I must be goin' now to see how things are goin'. +I don't work much--I just kinda loaf around and take care of the +stock. How would you like a yoke of oxen to plough with? I got two +big husky brutes out there in the pasture that know how to plow--I +got them on a horse deal--and they've never done a stroke of work for +me. Come on over with me and I'll fix you up with harness and all. I +got the whole thing." + +John Watson looked at him in grateful surprise and thanked him for +such welcome help. + +"Oh, don't say a word about it, John," Mr. Perkins said genially, +"I'll be glad to see the beggars having to work. Look out for the +black one--he's a sly old dog, and looks to me like an ox that would +keep friends with a man for ten years to get a good chance to land a +kick on him at last." + +When John Watson went over for the oxen, Mrs. Perkins came out +bareheaded to make kind inquiries for his wife and family. From +within came the mellow hum of the cream-separator, as Martha, the +steady member of the family, played a profitable tune thereon. + +That night Pearl called all her family to come out and see the +sunset. The western sky was one vast blue lake, dotted with burning +boats that ever changed their form and colour; each shore of the lake +was slashed into innumerable bays, edged with brightest gold; above +this were richest shades' of pale yellow, deepening into orange, +while thick gray mountains of clouds were banked around the horizon, +bearing on their sullen faces here and there splashes of colour like +stray rose-petals. + +John Watson watched it silently, and then said, more to himself than +to anyone else: "It is putty, ain't it?" + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +MRS. PERKINS'S TURN + + + Tell you what I like the best + Long about knee-deep in June + ... Some afternoon + Just to git out and rest + And not work at nothing else. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +OUT in the poplar grove behind the house, on a fine, sunshiny +Saturday, afternoon, Pearl Watson and Billy were busy making a +hammock under Aunt Kate's directions. They had found an old barrel in +the scrub, and Aunt Kate was showing them how, with the staves, they +could make the loveliest hammock by boring two auger holes in each +end and running ropes thro' the holes. + +When the hammock was completed and swung between two big trees, Pearl +ran into the house for her mother. + +"Ma," she said, "we've made this hammock mostly for you, and you're +to get in first." She took a quilt and pillow off one of the beds and +brought her mother out to the hammock, which was now held down by the +four youngest boys. By a quick movement Pearl spilled them out on the +grass and, spreading the quilt on the staves, soon made her mother +comfortable. + +"Now, Ma, here's where you're to come every after-noon," she said. +"Aunt Kate'll see that you do it when I'm not here to watch you; but, +anyway, I know I can trust you. Look up to the clouds and listen to +the birds and think of the nicest things you ever heard, and forget +that there ever comes holes in the little lads' pants, and forget +that you ever had to wash for other people, and just remember we've a +farm of our own and the crops' growin', and so is the garden just as +fast as if you was up watchin' it." + +Aunt Kate, standing by, looked in wonder at her little niece. + +"Faith, Pearlie, you have quare ways," she said. "Ye're as much like +yer Uncle Bill as if ye belonged to him. He'd have taken great +comfort out of you and yer quare speeches if he was here, pore +fellow." + +"He's in a better place, Katie, dear," said Mrs. Watson piously. + +After a pause, Pearl said: "You see, Ma, a person has to get soaked +full of sunshine and contented feelings to be able to stand things. +You've just got to lay in a stock of them, like a squirrel does the +nuts for the winter, and then when trouble comes you can go back and +think over all the good times you've had, and that'll carry ye over +till the trouble passes by. Every night here there'll be a lovely +sunset, all blue and gold, like the streets of heaven. That ought to +help some, and now the leaves are comin' and new flowers every day +nearly, and the roses'll be here in June, and the cherry blossoms +will be smellin' up the place before that, and at night ye'll hear +the wild ducks whizzin' by up in the air. They'll all keep us +heartened up more'n we need just now, but we better be settin' it +away to use when we need it." + +"Look! Who's yon?" Aunt Kate asked, looking down the road. + +A quaint-looking, stout old lady was walking toward them. + +"That'll be Mrs. Perkins comin' to see us," Mrs. Watson said, in +alarm. "Let me out o' this, Pearlie. It's a lazy trollop she'll think +I am if she ketches me lyin' here." + +"Lie where you are, Ma," Pearl said firmly. "It'll do her good to see +some one restin' easy. I know her, Ma, she's Martha's mother, and +they're great workers." + +When Mrs. Perkins arrived, Pearl went forward and introduced her to +her mother and Aunt Kate, with due ceremony. + +Mrs. Perkins was a short, stout woman, whose plump figure was much +like the old-fashioned churn, so guiltless was it of modern form +improvers. Mrs. Perkins's eyes were gray and restless, her hair was +the colour of dust, and it was combed straight back and rolled at the +back of her neck in a little knob about the size and shape of a +hickory nut. She was dressed in a clean print dress, of that good old +colour called lilac. It had little white daisies on a striped ground +and was of that peculiar shade that people call "clean looking." It +was made in a plain "bask" with buttons down the front, and a plain, +full skirt, over which she wore a white, starched apron, with a row +of insertion and a flounce of crocheted lace. + +Pearl brought out chairs. + +"Well, now, you do look comfortable,"' said Mrs. Perkins, with just a +shadow of reproach in her voice that did not escape Pearlie. "It must +be nice to have nothin' to do but just laze around." + +"She's done a big day's work already," Pearl said, quickly. "She +worked all her life raisin' us, and now she's goin' to take a rest +once in a while: and watch us rustle." + +"Well, upon my word, you can talk some, can't you?" Mrs. Perkins +said, not altogether admiringly. Aunt Kate gallantly interposed on +Pearl's behalf by telling what a fine help the was to her mother, and +soon the conversation drifted into an amiable discussion of whether +or not peas should be soaked before they are planted. + +Then Pearl and Mary went into the house and prepared the best meal +that the family supply of provisions permitted. They boiled eggs +hard, and spiced them the way Pearl had seen Camilla do. Pearl sliced +up some of Aunt Kate's home-made bread as thin as she could, and +buttered it; she brought out, from the packing box that they were +still in, one of the few jars of peaches, and then made the tea. She +and Mary covered the table with a clean white flour-sack; they filled +a glass jar with ferns and anemones for a centre-piece and set the +table as daintily as they could, even putting a flower beside each +pate. + +"Land alive!" Mrs. Perkins exclaimed, when they carried the table out +under the trees, where she sat with Aunt Kate and Mrs. Watson. "I +haven't et outside since we used to have the picnics in Millford in +old Major Rogers's time. I mind the last one we had. I seen old Mrs. +Gilbert just fillin' the stuff into her basket, and I do believe she +tuk more home than she brought, though I ain't the one to say it, +because I do not like to talk against a neighbour, though there are +some as say it right out, and don't even put a tooth on it." + +"Don't you go to the Pioneers picnics, now?" Pearl asked, as she +poured the tea. + +"No; I haven't gone since Mrs. Burrell came. I don't like her. She +isn't what I think a minister's wife ought to be, mind you; she said +an awful queer thing at our place the very first time she was there. +She was askin' me why we didn't get out to church, and I was tellin' +her about all the chores we had to do, milkin' and feedin' the stock, +and that, and she didn't say much, but when she got down to pray +before she left, she started off all right, and I wasn't really +noticin' what she was sayin' until I hears her say: 'Lord, take away +the cows and the pigs and the hens from these people, if it is the +pigs and the cows and hens that's keepin' them from attendin' church, +for it is better for them to do without milk or butter or eggs all +their lives than to be eternally lost.' Them was just her words. +Well, it just about made me faint to think of losin' all that, and I +says: 'Take that back, and we'll go'; I was so flustered. And now, +some of us has been drivin' down once a day; but, mind you, I don't +feel real easy when I'm near her. The idea of her plottin' harm +against innocent critturs that never done her any harm!" + +Pearl said to Mary when they went back into the kitchen, "Mary, that +woman hasn't got the right idea of things. It don't do you a bit of +good to eat outside if you're thinkin' hard of anybody. It'll take +a queer old lot of blue sky and fresh air and singin' birds and +cherry-blossoms to soak all that out of her; but of course it'll +help some." + +Mrs. Perkins stirred her tea with pleasure. She found it a real +delight to have good listeners who did not interrupt her. All her +life she had had to tell her stories against a counter-attraction, +that is, if her husband was present, for he was always telling one of +his own at the same time, and that sort of thing wears on the +stoutest nerves. + +"You'll soon have a real nice place here, Mrs. Watson," she said, +looking around. "Poor Mrs. Cavers would have had things nice if she +had had her own way. She was the greatest woman for makin' little +fixin's--she and my Martha were always doin' something--dear me, the +way she'd stick up for that man, and make excuses for him! 'Mr. +Cavers has a headache,' or 'Mr. Cavers is quite tired out.' Mr. +Cavers, mind you. Oh, I tell you, she was fetched up different. Any +one could see that. When I saw her first she was as pretty a girl as +you'd see, and Bill was a fine-lookin' man, too. We never knew he +would drink, and I don't think he ever did until Sandy Braden got his +license and opened up a bar. I'll never forget the first night he +came home drunk. She came runnin' over to our house and told us she +was afraid he was dyin'. Pa and I went over with her, and I told her +right out, plump and plain, what was wrong with him just as soon as I +saw him. I'll never forget the way she backed up from me, givin' +queer little screeches, and then she came back quick, her eyes +just blazin', and says she, grabbin' me by the shoulders, 'I +don't--believe--it,' just as slow as that, and then she begged me to +forgive her, the pore lamb, and straightened right up as stiff as a +poker, but all white and twitchy, and from that day to this she has +never let on to a livin' soul about him drinkin', but she's just as +nice to him as if he was a good man to her." + +Pearl listened to this story with sympathetic interest. She had known +this all the time--the beads on the cretonne had told the story. + +"And when her little Georgie died, if ever a woman was tried sore it +was her. She sent Bill for the doctor, and he fell in with a +threshin' gang and forgot to come home; yes, and that poor woman was +alone with little George choking with croup. Libby Anne ran over for +me, but he was too far gone. Bill came home in the mornin' so drunk +we couldn't make him understand that the child was dead, and he kept +askin' us all the time how little Georgie was now. I came home in the +mornin' to help to milk, and Martha went over to stay with her. +Martha can't ever forget the sad sight she saw when she went in. Bill +was on the lounge drunk. Little George lay on the bed dead, and she +was sittin' there makin' the shroud, and even then she made excuses +for Bill to Martha, and said he'd been up all night, and was tired." + +When Pearl went back into the kitchen she reported progress to Mary. + +"She's talkin' kinder now, Mary. The fresh air and the wind through +the trees is beginnin' to tell on her. Give me another cup of tea for +her." + + + + +CHAPTER X + +THE NEW PUPILS + + + Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; + The soul that rises with us, our life's star, + Has had elsewhere its setting, and cometh from afar, + Not in entire forgetfulness, not in utter nakedness, + But trailing clouds of glory do we come + From God--who is our Home. + + _----Wordsworth._ + + +WHEN school opened after the Easter holiday, the Watson family began +to attend. It was two miles to the bare little schoolhouse at the +cross-roads. The road lay straight across the prairie, green now with +the tender green of spring, and dotted thick with blue anemones. A +prairie fire, the fall before, had burned away all the old grass, and +so everywhere the country was of the richest dazzling green, varied +only in the shades--the tender, soft green of the young wheat, the +bluish green of the oat-fields, with here and there splendid groves +of poplars, making a scene which, to Pearl's eyes, was of untold +beauty. + +Away to the south the Tiger Hills were veiled in blue smoke, as if +some distant prairie fire was raging through the meadows beyond. +Across the long reach of upland pasture--swiftly and almost +noiselessly--swept the mixed train of the Canadian Northern, its huge +smoke plume standing straight up in the morning air, white and gray +like billows of chiffon, suddenly changing to deepest black. + +"They're stokin' up for the grade," Jimmy said, as he stood watching +it. Jimmy had not stolen rides on freight-cars without learning +something. + +Danny, although not quite of school age, was with the party because +he refused to stay at home. Aunt Kate encouraged him in the idea, and +made him a pair of pants and fixed up a striped sweater of Bugsey's +for him. So Danny, fully clothed in boy's attire, was very much in +evidence. + +When they were crossing the fire-guard around the school, Bugsey grew +faint-hearted and began to cry. "I'm feart he'll bate me," he +whimpered. + +Bugsey had been to school in Millford, of course, but his teacher +there had been Miss Morrison, and the teacher here was a man. + +Patsey showed signs of being infected with the tear-germ, too, and so +Pearlie quickly forged ahead with the unaffected members of her +party, to get them under cover before they had time to think of it. + +School was called when she arrived in haste and walked up to the +teacher's desk, followed by Danny, Mary, Jimmy, and Tommy. Danny was +hiding his face in her skirts. Tommy and Jimmy were outwardly calm, +but Pearl knew that it would take very little to stampede them. + +"We're coming to school, if you please," Pearl said, keeping a tight +hold of Danny. + +The teacher was a man of middle-age, with heavy eyebrows and great +dignity of manner. He looked at the Watson family in silence. + +"Speak to them, or they'll bolt," Pearl said, with the authority that +comes of being the eldest girl in a large family. + +The teacher saw the situation and rose to it. "Come here, Johnny," he +said at a venture. "Are you a little gun-shy?" + +"My name ain't Johnny, if yer meanin' me," said Jimmy, with a fine +show of courage. + +Pearl introduced her flock hastily and told the teacher to hang on to +Danny while she went for the others. + +When Pearl came in leading the other two boys the teacher exclaimed +in wonder. + +"This'll be all until winter-time," Pearl assured him, "and then +Teddy and Billy will be comin'." + +"I guess we're sure of the Government grant now," the teacher said, +smiling. He helped Pearl to convince the boys that they were in the +hands of friends, and even brought out the contents of his pocket and +searched through his desk to get Danny to take a cheerful view of +life again. + +The Watson family, when they were at last settled in their new seats, +did a great deal to relieve the bareness of the dingy school-room. +All at once the room seemed to be very much alive and stirring. + +While the teacher was busy with the boys, Pearl's sharp eyes were +looking over her new schoolmates. Instinctively she knew that the +pale little girl ahead of her must be Libby Anne Cavers. She had +wondered often, since coming to the farm, how Libby Anne would regard +the Watson family. Would she think that they had taken away her old +home? Impulsively Pearl leaned over and presented Libby Anne with a +new slate-rag securely anchored by a stout string to the neck of a +small bottle filled with water. This new way of slate-cleaning had +not yet reached the Chicken Hill School, where the older method +prevailed, and as a result, Libby Anne's small slate-rag was dark +gray in colour and unpleasant in character, and nearly always lent to +her less provident neighbours. + +Libby Anne turned her pale face and frightened eyes toward the big +new girl, and in that glance Pearl read all her sad child history. +Libby Anne was just what she had pictured her to be, little and thin +and scared. She put her hands on Libby Anne's thin shoulders and, +drawing her back, whispered in her ear: "I like ye, Libby Anne." + +Libby Anne's face brightened, though she made no reply. However, in a +few minutes she pulled the cork from the little bottle and gave her +slate a vigorous cleaning with the new rag, and Pearl knew her +oblation of friendship had been favourably received. + +Mr. Donald, the teacher, was a student of human nature, as every +successful teacher must be, and before the day was over he was sure +that in Pearl Watson he had a pupil of more than ordinary interest. +At the afternoon recess he called her to his desk and asked her about +her previous school experience. + +Pearl told him frankly her hope and fears. "I want to learn," she +said. "I want to know things, because I love to learn, and besides, I +have to be able to tell the boys and Mary what's what. We're awful +poor, but we're happy, and there's none of us real stupid. All we +want is a chance. I just ache to know things. Do you ever?" she asked +him suddenly. + +"I do, Pearl," he answered. "I do, indeed." + +"Oh, well," she said, "I guess you know all of the things I'm +thinkin' about; but I suppose the farther a person goes the more they +see that they don't know. + +"That's it, Pearl," he said, smiling. "The larger the circle of +light, the larger the darkness around it." + +Pearl pondered a minute. + +"That's just what I've often thought, but I didn't know how to say +it. Well," she went on, "I often wonder what makes the wind blow, and +what makes you fall when you step off things, and how does the hail +come when it's scorchin' hot; and I've often wondered what holds the +clouds up, and I'd like to know what's goin' on, and what people +think about things." + +She stopped suddenly, and looked closely into his face. She had to be +sure of a sympathetic listener. + +"Go on, Pearl," Mr. Donald said, kindly. "I am interested. Tell me +what else you are wondering about." + +"Well," she said, "I'll tell you the biggest wonder I have. I would +not tell it to every one, for if they've never thought of it it is +just as well for them, for there's a danger of thinkin' too far in +it. I am wonderin' often why God let the bad men crucify the dear +Lord, and Him that kind and sweet and gentle. I often think about it +at night, and can't sleep. I think about all the angels, big +strappin' fellows, flyin' around the cross, feelin' so sorry for Him, +and just wantin' so bad to hold Him up in their arms, but knowin' +they dassent interfere without orders, and I often imagine to meself +that the word did come to the angels to jump in and save Him, and I +can just see how tender they would lift Him down from the cross, and +the two poor fellows with Him, and they would float away off into the +blue sky, leaving the bad people down below, the soldiers and the +high priests and all of them, gawkin' up, wid their mouths open, +watchin' them growin' smaller and smaller, until they were gone clean +from sight; and then Pilate would say to them: 'Didn't I tell you to +watch what you were about? Let me tell yez, ye have put your foot in +it good and plenty this time.' But then I think of what really did +happen, and it just breaks my heart to think of it." + +Pearl's tears overflowed her eyes, but she wiped them away and went +on steadily. "I wonder if you could tell me why it happened, Mr. +Donald. I know God did it for the best. I am not sayin' a word +against Him, mind ye, for I know what He's like, and how good He is, +and all; but it was awful to let our Lord die that like." + +Mr. Donald felt his own heart strangely moved at the little girl's +distress. + +"I am not very well up in these things, Pearl," he said; "but if He +hadn't died he could not have shown us the resurrection." + +"Oh, I don't mind Him dyin'," said Pearl quickly. "Everybody has to +die, and when they've lived right and done the best they could for +every one, it is just glorious to die and go home. It's just like +people comin' home from college with their examination papers marked +high, and their certificates and medals to show how hard they worked; +or I guess it's more like soldiers comin' home all tired out, and +sunburnt, showing their scars--we can show our hands all hard with +work for other people, and our faces cheerful and patient. That's +what'll count up there, I guess. It's all right to die, but I can't +see why He had to die that way--it was terrible, and it wasn't comin' +to Him." + +"Perhaps it was to show us how much He loved us," the teacher said +gently. + +"He shows us that in lots of ways," Pearl said. "He says He loves us, +and ye can't live one day without feelin' that there's love in the +world, and I'm sure it didn't come from anywhere else but God--oh, +no, it didn't need, that to show us." + +The teacher was looking at her in wonder. + +"I tell you what to do, Pearl. Ask Mr. Burrell; he'll be able to tell +you." + +After school that night Pearl opened the theological discussion +again. + +"Mr. Donald," she said, "don't you think we should try to get some +one to preach here and have a Sunday-school? These children here, +except Lib. Cavers, don't know anything about the Bible. I've been +asking them about Easter Sunday. They don't know anything about it, +only it's a time to see how many eggs you can hold, and they think +that God is a bad word It would just be fine if we could have a +Sunday-school and learn verses. Our Jimmy got a black Testament +for fifty verses, said exactly like the book. You would be +superintendent, wouldn't you?" + +Mr. Donald coloured painfully. "I don't know, Pearl--we'll see," he +said evasively. + +That night when he went back to his boarding-place--the big brick +house on the hill--he was strangely disturbed and troubled. He had +told himself years ago that religion was a delusion, a will o' the +wisp. But there was something in Pearl's face and in her words that +seemed to contradict the logic of his reasoning. + +Charles Donald was a man who tried hard to make a stoic of himself, +to convince himself that he was past feeling the stings of evil +fortune. He had suffered so deeply that he told himself that nothing +could ever hurt him again. A spiritual numbness had come upon him, +which he took to be the compensation for the variety of hard knocks +he had experienced. He was a genial, pleasant, gentle man, but his +face bore that look of settled sadness that comes into the eyes of +people for whom the world has held an awkward hour. + +He was regarded by the people in the school district as a good +teacher, and, indeed, he had quite conscientiously put before his +pupils as much of the curriculum as they could conveniently grasp. He +was kind and patient with his pupils always, but he had never exerted +himself to change their outlook upon life, or to put nobler ideals +before them. + +"They are happier as they are," he often thought to himself. "The ox +in the field, so long as the grass is good, is happier than most of +us with all our wisdom, and well he should be, for his days are free +from care, and when his days are over there's the quick blow and the +sharp knife, and that is not so bad." + +But after Pearl came to school, he found himself going over his +neglected library to find the books that would throw light on the +many questions that she brought forward, and every evening he went +carefully over the lessons, taking a distinct pride now in making +them of interest to her. + +In this way, having more to employ his thoughts, he soon began to +think of the past less sadly. Pearl's optimism was contagious. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE HOUSE OF TROUBLE + + + There! little girl--don't cry! + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +A MILE from the Chicken Hill School stood the little vermin-infested +house in which the Cavers family lived after they abandoned the +weed-choked farm on the river-bank. This unpretentious log house had +been the first home of Mr. and Mrs. Steadman, and was part of the +"improvements" specified by the Government to show that a homestead +is entered in good faith. The land had been rich and productive, and +from it George Steadman had made the money to buy the half-section of +school land just across the road and to erect the magnificent brick +house and splendid barns that were the pride of his heart. + +George Steadman was so keen after money that he even overworked his +farms, and now his old farm was so impoverished that it was unable to +grow a heavy crop. This was the principal reason he had for letting +it to such an undesirable tenant as Bill Cavers. No wide-awake tenant +would take it, and, besides, if he had rented it to almost any person +else, he would have had to spend some money fixing up the house, +which was in a most dilapidated condition. + +Bill Cavers had lost the ambition that he once had, and now did not +care very much what sort of house he lived in. Bill was content to +live the simple life, if the liquid refreshment were not simplified +too much, and Mrs. Cavers never complained. + +The Caverses had only one child living, Libby Anne, eleven years old; +but there were several little unmarked mounds in the Millford +cemetery that Libby Anne and Mrs. Cavers sometimes piled high with +white cherry-blossoms or blue anemones. Little George had lived to be +two years old, and Libby Anne remembered that when he died there was +a funeral, with horses and buggies in the yard, and the minister +prayed and there was singing, and Martha Perkins brought over little +cookies with pink seeds on them, and it was fine! + +But for days and days Libby Anne would steal up the narrow stairs, +fully expecting to find her little brother sleeping under the pink +quilt on his mother's bed, but there wasn't ever even the dint of him +on the quilt, and Libby Anne at last went up with her eyes shut to +feel around the bed, so as not to be disappointed so soon. Then her +mother told her about the beautiful country that little George had +gone to, and Libby Anne was glad to know that no one there was ever +cold or hungry, and that nobody's father ever came home drunk. One +day in school Libby Anne told the teacher what heaven was like, and +when she mentioned this last and greatest advantage of living there +he told her gently that she must not say such things. + +For some time after coming to the Steadman farm things had gone +better with the Caverses, for a strong influence was brought to bear +on Bill, to keep him sober. Mr. Steadman had never taken any interest +in the liquor question--he had no taste for whiskey himself, and, +besides, it costs money--but now, with Bill Cavers for his tenant, he +began to see things differently. If Bill Cavers drank he would not be +able to pay the rent. So Mr. Steadman desired Bill to be a sober man, +and to this end had a very straight talk with him on the subject of +total abstinence. + +Bill Cavers was a very poor farmer, as one look at his abandoned +homestead would show; that he was not a success as a husband no one +would doubt after seeing Mrs. Cavers; and that he was a conspicuous +failure as a father, Elizabeth Anne Cavers, his daughter, with her +frightened eyes and sad mouth, would abundantly testify. But there +was one capacity in which William Cavers was a spectacular success, +and that was in maintaining the country's revenue from malt and +distilled liquors, for Bill was possessed of a thirst that never +faltered. + +Bill was quite different from the drunkard who consumes and never +produces, for he would work and work hard; and he was strictly honest +with every one except himself and his family. Sandy Braden was not +afraid to trust Bill with all the whiskey he wanted, for Bill would +surely pay. His wife might not have respectable clothes to come to +town in, and Libby Anne knew what it was like more than once to go +hungry to bed, but Bill always paid what was chalked up against him +at the Grand Pacific without question. All the neighbours called Bill +Cavers a good, straight fellow. + +When Bill was sober, he bitterly regretted the way he had wasted his +money, and he often made solemn protestations as to his future +conduct, the strange part of it being that at such times he fully +believed that he would never drink again, and his wife was always, +sure that he would not. + +In this way life was harder for her than it would have been for a +less sanguine woman, who would have long ago given up all hope, but +Mrs. Cavers always saw her husband as he had been in his good days; +his drinking had never ceased to be a shock to her; she never could +accept it as the inevitable, but constantly looked for better days to +come. + +Mrs. Cavers often told Libby Anne about the lovely home she had when +she was a little girl, and showed her just how the flower-beds were +laid out and how the seat was put in the big elm-tree outside her +mother's window, where she often sat and read and dreamed; and so it +was no wonder that her mother's old home in Ontario, where her +grandmother and Aunt Edith still lived, became to Libby Anne a sort +of Paradise Valley, the delectable country of her dreams, and through +all her colourless childhood there ran a hope like a thread of gold +that some time she and her mother would go back. + +The last summer that they had been on their own farm this hope had +been very real, for her father had said one day, when he was in his +best mood, that if the crop turned out well they would all go down +east for three months. + +Then what a busy, hopeful time began for Libby Anne and her mother. +Everything was bent toward this one end. Mrs. Cavers made butter and +sold it. Libby Anne looked faithfully after the eggs, and made every +old hen give an account of herself each night. By getting the +neighbours to subscribe to a magazine, Mrs. Cavers was able to add a +few dollars to her savings. The kind-hearted neighbours, who knew of +the projected visit, were all ready to help. + +Martha Perkins gave Libby Anne ten fine young turkeys, half-grown, to +help to buy new clothes for herself, and the thought of the lovely +red curly cloth coat that she would be able to buy when she sold her +turkeys comforted her not a little when, tired out with her other +work, she came to gather them in for the night, and they obstinately +would scamper away into the trees; as unconcerned as if there was +never a wolf or a mink or a weasel in the world. + +No crop was ever watched with greater hope and fear than that one. +Every bank of cloud that gathered in the west seemed to sit like a +dead weight on Libby Anne's heart, for it might bring hail, and +a hailed-out crop meant that they could not go home, and that +was--outer darkness. Perhaps it was the child's wordless prayers +that stayed the hail and the frost and the rust, for certain it is +that none came, and the crop was most abundant. + +Libby Anne and Mrs. Cavers worked in the field to save a hired man's +wages. Libby Anne was a tireless little worker, and though many, many +times her thin arms must have ached, she never complained, because +every sheaf that she carried brought her nearer the Promised Land. + +People driving past looked with pity at the tired-looking woman and +the little girl in the faded derry dress carrying sheaves almost as +big as herself, and one day Mrs. Burrell, the minister's wife, spoke +to them sympathizingly. Libby Anne flashed back at her almost +scornfully. "Don't you know we are going home?" she said, her tired +face kindling. + +At last the grain was harvested and threshed, the neighbours kindly +assisting, and Bill began to sell his grain. He paid his store bills, +his binder-twine bill, his blacksmithing, and made the payment on his +binder. Libby Anne sold her turkeys and got her coat, and the day was +set for them to go east--December the first, the first excursion! + +The day before they were to start, Bill went to town to cast his +vote; the Provincial elections were held that year on the last day of +November. There was a good deal of excitement over the election, for +Sandy Braden, the popular proprietor of the Grand Pacific Hotel, was +running against a Brandon man, and Millford was standing solid for +their own man. The bar could not be opened until after five o'clock, +when the voting was over, but after that there was nothing to prevent +good-fellowship abounding. + +It did abound all night. There was a bonfire in front of the hotel +when the returns began to come in, for Sandy was winning easily, and +Sandy certainly showed his gratitude for the way the boys had stood +by him. + +Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne waited all that long night. They tried to +keep up each other's courage, making all sorts of excuses for Mr. +Cavers's absence. Mrs. Cavers knew, but she did not tell Libby Anne, +that he was going to cash the wheat-tickets that he had saved for the +trip, for the train went so early in the morning he was afraid he +might not have time then. + +Libby Anne went again and again into the little bedroom to look at +the trunk already strapped. Surely people always went if the trunk +was strapped, and she tried and tried to feel what it was like +yesterday. + +Just as the sun was rising on the first day of December ushering in +the first day of the winter excursions, they heard him coming. He was +coming with the Thomas boys, who were often his companions on similar +occasions. Some one had loaded them up and started them for home, +trusting to a drunken man's luck not to get killed. + +Round the turn of the road they came singing, and Libby Anne and her +mother listened with sinking hearts as the sound came nearer and +nearer: + + "Who's the best man in this town? + Sandy Braden, Sandy Braden." + +they sang, putting the words to that good old rollicking Scotch tune +of "Highland Laddie." + +Bill fell out of the waggon at the door. He was covered with dirt, +his clothes were torn, and one eye was blackened, but he was in a +genial mood, and tried to dance on the door-step. They got him in at +last and put him to bed, where he slept profoundly until the next +afternoon. He brought home out of his wheat-tickets thirty-five cents +and the half of a dollar bill--the other half was torn away! + +Libby Anne did not shed a tear until she saw her mother unstrap the +trunk to get out something, and then suddenly all the strength went +out of the lithe little arms that had carried the sheaves so bravely, +and she fell in a little heap on the floor, sobbing out strangely. + +Her mother gathered her up in her arms and rocked her for a long time +in the rocking-chair, crooning over her queer little rambling tunes +without meaning; only once she spoke, and then what she said was +this: "Libby Anne, I hope you will never be as lonely to see me as I +am right now to see my mother." + +Just then a still later consignment of Mr. Braden's supporters drove +past the house gaily singing the same refrain: + + "Who's the best man in this town? + Sandy Braden, Sandy Braden." + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +PEARL VISITS THE PARSONAGE + + + Mylo--he jest plows--and don't + Never swear-like some folks won't. + + _----From "Mylo Jones' Wife."_ + + +THE Reverend Mr. Burrell, whom Mr. Donald recommended to Pearl as a +proper person to consult on the questions that troubled her mind, was +the Methodist minister in Millford. The first year of his pastorate +there he had been alone, Mrs. Burrell having remained "in the East," +with her own people. + +Mrs. Ducker was the president of the Ladies' Aid Society, and given +to serious thinking, so when she read an article in the Fireside +Visitor dealing with the relation of the minister's wife to the +congregation, she was seriously impressed with the fact that the +congregation was suffering every day by not having the minister's +wife on the ground. Mrs. Ducker thereupon decided that she would +bring the matter forward at the very next meeting. + +Now, it happened that the "rubberman" came to Millford the very day +before the Ladies' Aid meeting was held, which may seem to be a very +unimportant and irrelevant fact; but it really had a significant +bearing on that meeting of the Ladies' Aid, for little John Thomas +Forrest, dazzled by the offer of three lead-pencils for two rubbers, +sold his mother's only pair, and being a cautious child, and not fond +of disputatious conversation, did not mention the matter to his +mother, but left her to discover her loss herself, which she did the +day of the meeting. + +It was a sloppy day in November. Mrs. Forrest had a cold, and she +could not walk away over to Mrs. Ducker's without rubbers. Mrs. +Forrest did not go to the meeting. If Mrs. Forrest had gone she would +have, beyond doubt, raised objections. She always did, and usually +very successful ones. + +But when Mrs. Ducker, after the business was over, breathlessly +declared that she thought Mrs. Burrell should come and join her +husband, she found Mrs. Francis and Mrs. Bates quite imbued with the +same idea, for they likewise were subscribers to the Fireside +Visitor. Mrs. Francis also gave prominence to the fact that Mr. +Burrell needed some one to take care of him, for she had seen him +that very day without his rubbers. Having no children of her own, +Mrs. Francis did not know that the day after the "rubberman" had been +in town quite a few people went without rubbers, not because they +were careless of their health either, but because they had +thoughtlessly left them in the front porch, where little boys can +easily get them. + +Half an hour after they began to discuss it, everybody felt that not +only was the church suffering severely, but that they had been the +unconscious witnesses of a domestic tragedy. + +They formed a committee on "ways and means," another one to solicit +aid from country members, and a social committee to get up a pie +social to buy a new stair-carpet for the parsonage, and they +appointed Mrs. Francis and Mrs. Ducker to approach Mr. Burrell on the +subject of his wife's coming. + +The unconscious object of their solicitude was quite surprised to +receive that evening a visit from Mrs. Francis and Mrs. Ducker. +Reverend John Burrell did not look like a man who was pining for the +loved and lost--he was a small, fair man, with a pair of humorous +blue eyes. A cheerful fire was burning in the Klondike heater, and an +air of comfort pervaded his study. + +The ladies made known their errand, and then waited to see the glad +look that would come into their pastor's face. + +He stirred the fire before replying. + +"It is very kind of you ladies to think of fixing up the parsonage," +he said. "Mrs. Burrell is having a very pleasant visit with her +mother in Toronto." + +"Yes; but her place is here," Mrs. Ducker said with decision, feeling +around in the shadowy aisles of her mind for some of the Fireside +Visitor's "It is lonely for you, and it must be for her." + +Mr. Burrell did not say it was not. + +Mrs. Francis was filled with enthusiasm over the idea of fixing up +the parsonage, and endeavoured, too, to give him some of the reasons +why a church prospers better spiritually when there is a woman to +help in the administration of its affairs. + +When the women had gone, the Reverend John Burrell sat looking long +and earnestly into the fire. Then he got up suddenly and rattled down +the coals with almost unnecessary vigour and murmured something +exclamatory about sainted womanhood and her hand being in every good +work, though that may not have been the exact words he used! + +The work of remodelling the parsonage was carried on with enthusiasm, +and two months later Mrs. Burrell arrived. + +Mrs. Ducker, Mrs. Francis, and Mrs. Bates went to the station with +Mr. Burrell to meet her, and were quite surprised to see a large, +handsome, auburn-haired woman, carrying two valises, alight from the +train and greet their minister with these words: "Well, John Burrell, +I declare if you aren't out this raw day without your overcoat, and +you know how easily you take a cough, too. I guess it is high time +for me to come. Now, please do keep your mouth closed." + +* * * + +The first time Pearl was in Millford she called at the Methodist +parsonage to see Mr. Burrell. The question of having service in the +schoolhouse was bothering Pearl. + +It was a dull brown house, with, a row of tall maples in front of it, +and a pansy bed, made by filling the earth into old binder-wheels, on +each side of the walk. Pearl at once though of the old binder-wheel +in the scrub at home, and in her quick fancy she saw the purple faces +of prospective pansies looking up from it as it lay in front of the +east window. + +Mrs. Burrell came to the door in answer to Pearl's ring, but did not +recognize her at the first glance. She told Pearl to have a seat in +the parlour. + +When Mr. Burrell came in he was pleased to see Pearl, who said, in +response to his friendly greeting: "We're doin' fine, Mr. Burrell. +We're goin' to have a crop and potatoes and lots of things. There's +seven of us goin' to school and learning. Jimmy's at long division. +I'm just finishing 'The Lady of the Lake.' Danny's doing digits, +that's another name for figgers. Patsey's readin' at the Sweet Pea +lesson, with ten of the hardest words for meanings. That's all right, +but there's no church or Sunday-school. We left town to get a better +chance to bring up the boys right, and the farm is fine only for what +I'm tellin' ye. Every Sunday the other children trap gophers and the +people sleep or visit. I do be hearin' them tellin' about it at +school, and last Sunday, mind ye, wee Patsey and Bugsey wanted to +make a kite, and of course ma wouldn't let them, but Jimmy up and +says--he was in it, too, do you mind--he says: 'Let's make it out of +an Onward, and that will be all right; sure that's a Sunday paper.'" + +Mr. Burrell laughed sympathetically, but shook his head, too, so +Pearl knew he was with her on the proper observance of the Sabbath. + +"And Mr. Burrell," she went on, "I am worried +about Danny--he's that artful and deep--if ever a child should be +learnin' verses he's the wan. Yesterday he hit his thumb when he was +hammerin' with the little tack-hammer, and instead of just yellin' +and stickin' his finger in his mouth the way he did before, he said +right out plain--well, you know what the beavers build to broaden out +the water--well, that's what he said." + +"Is it as bad as that, Pearlie?" Mr. Burrell asked in a shocked +voice, which was contradicted by the twinkle in his eye. + +"It is," Pearl answered, "and I was wonderin' if you could come and +preach to us on Sunday afternoons, and encourage them to get a +Sunday-school. There's lots of room in the school, and there's a fine +big shed for the horses if it was raining, and there's no need of so +many services here," she concluded with alarming frankness. "What I +mean is," she explained in answer to his look of surprise, "there's +lots of churches here, and all kinds of preachin' goin' on', with +only a few scatterin' people out at each one." + +Mrs. Burrell came in hastily and listened to the conversation. + +"How far out is it, Pearl?" Mr. Burrell asked. + +"About five miles, I think; just a nice drive for you and the +missus." + +"Does she want you to take another country appointment, John?" Mrs. +Burrell asked; and Pearl noticed for the first time that her hair was +just the colour of their horse at home--the one that was cross. + +"That was Pearlie's suggestion," he answered. + +"Well, indeed, he is not going to do any such thing; I should say +not," and Mrs. Burrell shut her mouth with a click. "And, besides, +nearly every Sunday it rains." + +"Well, that's good for the crops," said Pearl, thinking of the twenty +acres of wheat in front of the house and of the oat-field behind the +bluff; "and, besides," quoting a favourite axiom of her mother's, "he +ain't sugar or salt, and he won't melt." + +"Well, what would happen our congregation if we had only one service +a day? They would all be going to the Presbyterian." + +"That won't hurt them," Pearl said hopefully. "They'll get good +sermons from Mr. Grantley." + +Mrs. Burrell could not think of what she wanted to say. Pearl kept +her eye on Mr. Burrell--there was something in his face which made +her hope. + +After a pause he said to her: "Pearl, your idea is strictly +first-class. I have wanted to take another outside appointment ever +since I came here, but the congregation had objections. However, +I'll talk it over with Mr. Grantley, and I'm sure we can arrange +something." + +Mrs. Burrell remembered then. She found the words she was looking +for. "You'll do nothing of the sort, John. Going away every Sunday +to two outside appointments and leaving our own people exposed +to Presbyterian doctrine. That's a horrid, bare, desolate little +school, anyway, and you couldn't do a bit of good to those people; I +know you couldn't. I'll go to the Trustee Board meeting--they meet +to-night--and I'll tell them you are physically unfit--you are +wearing two thicknesses of flannel, with mustard quilted in between +them, now on your chest, and you had onion poultices on your feet +last night for your cough, and so you're not fit to go." + +"Please, ma'am," said Pearl, "we won't mind. I didn't notice it at +all, and I don't believe anybody will, if you don't tell them." + +Mr. Burrell laughed so heartily that Mrs. Burrell told him he was a +very frivolous man, and quite unfit for the position he held. + +"Sure, you could come out yerself," Pearl said encouragingly, "and +show us how to fix it up. It is bare, as you said, but the land is +there, and it could grow scarlet-runners and pansies, the same as you +have yer self here by the cheek of the dure. If some one like +yerself'd come and show us how to fix it up, we might have a purty +place yet!" + +"Fix it up on Sunday!" Mrs. Burrell cried, with vehement emphasis. + +"Show us, I said," Pearl corrected her, "and I guess it would be a +real good work to fix it up, too." + +"It is lawful to do well on the Sabbath day, you know, Mattie," Mr. +Burrell quoted gently. + +Mrs. Burrell sniffed audibly. + +"The trustees meet this evening, Pearl. Now, if you will stay in, +I'll drive you out to-morrow morning. Mrs. Burrell will be glad to +have you stay here." + +Mrs. Burrell seconded the invitation. + +"But I am going to the meeting, John," she declared decidedly. "I'll +tell them that you are not to undertake it." + +"My dear, I understood the Ladies' Aid were meeting to-night," her +husband said, with the forced enthusiasm of a person who tries to +draw a child's attention from a prohibited pleasure. + +"It does, too; but I am going to the other meeting," answered his +amiable spouse. + +Mr. Burrell looked at Pearl in alarm. + +"But I want you to stay, Pearl," Mrs. Burrell said quickly, and with +more kindliness than she had yet shown. + +Pearl thanked her, but said she would have to go to see her father +first and see if she could stay. Mrs. Burrell went out into the +kitchen to get tea ready, while Mr. Burrell went to the door with +Pearl. + +In the little square hall they held a hurried conference. "Will she +go to that meeting?" Pearl asked in a whisper. + +He nodded. + +"Will she cut up rough?" + +Mr. Burrell thought it likely that she would. + +"Don't let her go," said Pearl, who evidently believed in man's +supremacy. + +He made a gesture of helplessness. + +Pearl wrinkled her forehead, and then took a step nearer him and said +slowly: "Hide her false teeth--she won't go if she has to gum it." + +He stared at her a second before he grasped the full significance of +her suggestion. + +"Things like that have been done," Pearl said, reassuringly. "Ma knew +a woman once, and whenever she wanted to keep her man at home she hid +his wooden leg. I suppose, now, she hasn't----" Pearl looked at him +meaningly. + +"Oh, no!" he said hastily. "We can't do that." + +Pearl went out, leaving the Reverend John Burrell clearly +demonstrating the fact that he was too frivolous a person for his +position. + +* * * + +When Pearl came back, after getting her father's permission to stay +for the night, she found Mrs. Burrell in a more amiable frame of +mind, and after tea was over she was much relieved to find that Mrs. +Burrell had given up the idea of going to the trustee meeting, but +was going to the Ladies' Aid meeting instead, and was going to take +Pearl with her. + +Before the meeting, Pearl went over to see Camilla and Mrs. Francis. +Mrs. Francis was the secretary of the Ladies' Aid, but was unable to +go to the meeting that night on account of a severe headache. Pearl, +always ready to help, asked if she could take the minutes of the +meeting. + +"Thank you so much, Pearl," Mrs. Francis said. "It would relieve me +if you would write down everything that happens, so that I can make a +full report of it. It is so sweet of you, dear, to offer to do it for +me; and now run along with Camilla, for I know she has a lot of +things that she is longing to show you." + +Camilla took Pearl upstairs to her room, and there spread out before +Pearl's enraptured vision a wonderful creation of white silk and +lace. + +"The lace has little cucumbers in it," Pearl said, looking at it +closely, "and it's the loveliest dress I ever saw. Have you worn it +yet?" + +Camilla did not at once reply, and then, quite by intuition, Pearl +guessed the truth. + +"Camilla!" she exclaimed. "You are going to be married to Jim." + +Camilla put her gently. + +"Yes, dear, I am," she said. Pearl, sat thinking deeply. + +"Are you happy, Camilla?" she said at last. "Are you that happy you +feel you can never lose a bit of the glad feeling?" + +Camilla held her tighter, and kissed her again. "I've thought about +it a little," Pearl said after a while, "and I thought perhaps that +would be how people felt, and then it didn't matter if it was all +dark and gloomy outside, or even if the wind was howlin' and rattlin' +the windows, you wouldn't mind, for all the time you would be singin' +inside, just bustin' for joy, and you'd feel that contented sort of +feelin', just as if the sun was pourin' down and the birds singin' +and the hills all white with cherry-blossoms; is that anything like +it, Camilla?" + +"It is very like that, Pearl," she said. + +"And, Camilla," she went on, "do you feel like you could die to save +him from any trouble or pain, and even if he did go wrong--Jim never +will, I know, but I am just supposin'--even if he did go wrong you'd +never go back on him, or wish you hadn't took him, but you'd stay +with the job and say to yourself: 'He's my man, and I'll stay by him, +so I will!'" + +Camilla nodded her head. + +Pearl's eyes suddenly filled with tears. + +"And, Camilla, do you ever think if you were to lose him it wouldn't +be so bad as' never to have had him, and even if the time came that +he had to go, you could bear it, for you'd know that somewhere you'd +find him again waitin' for you and lovin' you still, just the same; +and even if it was long, long years ago that you were left alone, +you'd never forget him, but you'd always know that somewhere, up in +the air or in the clouds or maybe not so far, he was there dear as +ever, and you'd always keep thinkin' in your heart: 'He's the only +man for me.'" + +Camilla's arms tightened around her, and Pearl felt something warm on +her cheek. + +"How do you know all this?" Camilla whispered, after a while. + +Pearl laughed and wiped her eyes on her handkerchief. "I don't know," +she said. "I never knew that I did know it all till just now. I've +thought about it a little." + +Camilla laughed, too, and went over to the wash stand to bathe her +eyes, while Pearl, in wonder, inspected the dress. + +"Now, Pearlie Watson, I want you to do me a favour," said Camilla +gaily. + +"As many as you like," was Pearl's quick answer. + +"I want you for my bridesmaid. You are my good luck, Pearl. Remember +you sent Jim to me. If it hadn't been for you I might never have met +him." + +Pearl's eyes sparkled with delight, but no words came. + +"And see here, Miss Watson, I have been reading up all about +weddings, and I find it is a very correct thing for the bride and +bridesmaid to be dressed alike. Miss Watson, will you please stand up +and shut your eyes?" + +Pearl stood up. + +Over her head she felt Camilla putting something soft and deliciously +silky. Camilla was putting her arms in unmistakable sleeves, and +pulling down an unmistakable skirt. + +"Open your eyes, Pearlie." + +When Pearl opened her eyes she found herself dressed in a white silk +dress, exactly the same as the one that lay on the bed--cucumbers and +all! + +"Oh, Camilla!" was all she could say, as she lovingly stroked the +dress. + +"Jim would not think of having anybody but you, and Dr. Clay is going +to be the groomsman." + +Pearl looked up quickly. + +"Dr. Clay told me," Camilla went on, "that he would rather have you +for the bridesmaid when he was going to be the groomsman than any +other girl, big or little." + +Pearl clasped her hands with a quick motion. + +"Better'n Miss Morrison?" she asked, all in one breath. + +"Yes; better than pose so, for he said on earth." + +"Oh, Camilla!" Pearl said again, taking deep breaths of happiness, +and the starry look in her eyes set Camilla wondering. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +THE LADIES' AID MEETING + + + Oh, wad some power the giftie gie us, + To see oorselves as ithers see us. + + _----Robert Burns._ + + +PEARL went to the Ladies' Aid Meeting, which was held at Mrs. +Ducker's, and was given a little table to sit at while she took the +notes. Pearl was a fairly rapid writer, and was able to get down most +of the proceedings. + +Camilla copied the report into the minute-book, and as Mrs. Francis +did not think about it until the next meeting, when she came to read +it she found it just as Pearl had written it, word for word. The +reading caused some excitement. The minutes were as follows: + +* * * + +The Ladies' Aid met at the home of Mrs. Ducker. There were seven +present when it started; but more came. Mrs. Burrell doesn't know why +they can't come in time. She told them so. Mrs. Bates said, Lands +sakes, she had a hard enough time getting there at all. She left a +big bag of stockings all in holes. Mrs. Forrest says it's been so hot +the holes are the most comfortable part of the stockings, and if she +was in Mrs. Bates's place she'd let the girls go barefoot. Mrs. Bates +is going to let Mildred go, but she can't let Blanche--she's so +lanky--she'd look all legs, like a sand-hill crane. Burrell says, +Let's open the meeting by singing, "How Firm a Foundation" but Mrs. +Ducker says, Oh, don't take that, it's in sharps; take "Nearer, Still +Nearer"--it's in flats, and Maudie can handle the flats better. Then +they sang, and Mrs. Burrell and Mrs. Ducker prayed. Mrs. Ducker +prayed longest, but Mrs. Burrell prayed loudest, and for most things. +Mrs. Bates read the last report, and they said it was better than +usual, she'd only left out one or two things. Then they collected the +money. Nearly every one paid; only Mrs. Burrell couldn't find hers, +she was sure she had it in her glove when she came in, and she +couldn't see how it ever fell out. Mrs. Ducker will get it when she +sweeps if it's in the house at all. Mrs. Williams had her ten cents +in a tea-cup all ready, but when she went to get it it was gone, and +she's afraid she gave that cup to one of the boarders by mistake. +Mrs. Williams says that's the worst of keeping boarders, your home is +never your own. Mrs. Forrest says if she only knew which one got it, +she should charge it up to him. Mrs. Williams wouldn't ever think of +doing that. Total receipts of evening, $2.20. + +Then Mrs. Burrell asked what about the new stairs carpet. She's +ashamed every time she takes any one upstairs, it's going something +awful. Mrs. White hasn't had time to think anything about it, she's +been doing up rhubarb; it's so nice and tender in the spring. None of +Mrs. Bates's folks will eat rhubarb, and so she never does any up, +though she really is very fond of it herself, done with pineapple, +the shredded pineapple--half and half. Mrs. Ducker is doing rhubarb, +too, it's nice in the spring when everything else goes flat on you. +Mrs. Burrell says, What about the stairs carpet, now if you're done +with the rhubarb? + +Mrs. Forrest said linoleum is better than carpet. Mrs. Ducker said +it's too cold on the feet. Mrs. Grieves said, Land sakes, let them +wear their boots--they don't need to go canterin' up and down the +stairs in their bare feet, do they? Mrs. Burrell said linoleum would +do all right if they couldn't afford carpet; but there wasn't any +decent linoleum in town, and even if there was you have to pay two +prices for it, but she saw in the Free Press that there was going to +be a linoleum sale in Winnipeg on Saturday. Mrs. Ducker does not like +sales. Mr. Ducker got a horse at a sale one time, and the very first +time they hitched it up it took blind staggers. Mrs. Forrest thinks +there would be no danger of the linoleum havin' it, though. Mrs. +Burrell said she wished they'd talk sense. Mrs. Snider said she would +move that Mrs. Burrell gets whatever she wants for the stairs and the +Ladies' Aid will pay for it. Carried. Mrs. Burrell said what about +the knives and forks committee. Mrs. Bates hasn't been able to go out +since she fell down stairs. There's a black patch on her knee yet. +Mrs. Bates blackens easy. Mrs. Snider has had her hands full, +goodness knows, since Aunt Jessie has been laid up with erysipelas. +Aunt Jessie is pretty hard to wait on, and doesn't like the smell of +the ointment the doctor gave her, it's altogether different from what +she got when she was down in the States. Mrs. Burrell said she would +get the knives and forks herself if anybody would make a motion. Two +made it, and three seconded it. Carried. + +Mrs. Burrell said, How are the things getting on for the bazaar? Mrs. +Ducker had a box of things sent from Mrs. Norman in Winnipeg. Mrs. +Snider thinks Mrs. Norman must have been at a sale: You can get +things so cheap there sometimes. When Mrs. Snider was in at Bonspiel +time, she saw lovely lace stockings for eleven cents a pair, and +beautiful flowered muslin, just the very same as they ask sixty-five +cents here, going for twenty-nine cents. (Couldn't get all they said +here, everybody talked at once about sales.) + +Mrs. Burrell said: Where'll we hold it, anyway, if we do get enough +stuff? Mrs. Ducker thought the basement of the church. Mrs. Bates +can't get used to holding sales in churches. Her mother never could +either. Mrs. Burrell said when the church was having the sale, what +was the odds where it was held? No use turning up your nose at a sale +and still take the money. Mrs. Smith moved that sale be held in +church, though if the stuff didn't come in faster, a piano box would +do. Mrs. Allen said, hurry up, do, please. She left the baby with +Jim, and he's no good at all if She begins to fuss. Mrs. Snider +seconded the motion. + +Mrs. Burrell said, where will we meet next time? Mrs. Graham said, +come to my house. Mrs. Forrest said it was too far. Mrs. Graham said +the walk would do her good, she had just been reading in the Fireside +Visitor that that's what's wrong with lots of people, they don't walk +enough. Mrs. Forrest is glad to know this, for she has often wondered +what was wrong with lots of people, but Mrs. Forrest doesn't think +much of the Fireside Visitor--it's away off sometimes. + +Mrs. Brown would like to come every time if she had company home. +Mrs. Burrell said bring Mr. Brown. Mr. Brown wouldn't come. You +couldn't get him within three acres of a Ladies' Aid Meeting. Never +could. Decided to meet at Mrs. Burrell's. + +R. J. P. WATSON, Sec. + +Just for this time. + +* * * + +Pearl and Mrs. Burrell became very good friends before Pearl left the +next morning. Mrs. Burrell, while they were washing up the breakfast +dishes, apologized in her own way for her outburst against the +country appointment. + +"I'm a crabbed old woman, Pearl, dear," she said. + +"Not old," Pearl said promptly, with wisdom beyond her years. She did +not deny the other adjective. + +"I'm a crabbed old woman, Pearl," she repeated; "but I am always +afraid he'll catch cold and get sick he is so reckless, and never +seems to have serious thoughts about himself, or realize what wet +feet will do for him if he persists in them; and really, child, it's +hard to be a minister's wife. You've so many people to please, and +when you're pleasing one, some one else doesn't like it. Now, did you +notice Mrs. Maxwell wasn't at the meeting? She got miffed with me +over the smallest little thing. You know her boy, Alec, plays +lacrosse, and there's going to be a big game here on the 1st of July, +at the Pioneers' Picnic, and she was talking about it--he's so +foolish that way for a woman of her age. I said to her, just as +kindly as I am speaking to you now: 'I do hope Alec will be able to +control his temper,' I said. 'I know it's hard for people with that +complexion to control their temper.' You see, I know, for my youngest +brother has hair just like Alec Maxwell, and I told her this, and +I did it all so kindly. But what do you suppose? She tossed her +head"--Mrs. Burrell showed Pearl the way--"and she says. 'Just look +after your own, Mrs. Burrell. I guess Alec can control himself as +well as most red-headed people.' Red-headed, mind you! I was so upset +about it. Of course, I know there is a tinge of red in mine--more of +a gold, I guess it is, just when the sun shines on it--but no one +would think of calling it red, would they, Pearl?" + +"No, indeed," Pearl answered truthfully. "It isn't a bit red." + +Pearl was thinking that sorrel was nearer the colour, but she knew +she must not say it. + +"I am always getting people offended at me when I do not mean any +offence. John just laughs at me when I tell him. He often says, +'Mattie, you are a wonder in your own way,' and I am not sure just +what he means by it; but often, Pearl, I'm afraid I haven't tact." + +Pearl assured Mrs. Burrell that she shouldn't worry about it. + +"Sometimes I think I do pretty well, and say the right thing. One +night I met Miss Rose, your friend, and Mr. Russell out walking. I +met them going past the McSorley house, and you know they're building +a piece to it since the twins came. So I said to Mr. Russell: 'Be +sure to get a big house at first, so you won't have to be adding to +it all the time; it's so expensive to enlarge a house.' I guess Mr. +Russell took it all right, because he said: 'Yes, Mrs. Burrell, just +as solemn as can be, but I don't believe John liked it, because he +began to talk to Miss Rose right away. I often think, Pearl, if my +own little girl had lived I would have been a lot happier; I wouldn't +be depending, then, so much on other people for my happiness. I am a +poor, cross old woman, and I really do not mean to be. I feel real +kind to people, and would be if they would let me." + +"You're all right, Mrs. Burrell," Pearl said soothingly. "You've keen +kind to me, and I like you just fine." + +Mrs. Burrell looked at her gratefully. + +"I believe you do, you blessed child; you see the good in everybody." + +When Pearl went home that day she announced to her family that she +was happy in four places. "I'm happy because we're goin' to have +church now, that's one; and I'm happy because Mrs. Burrell gave me +all those pansy plants, that's two; and I'm happy because Camilla is +goin' to be married, and she has made me the loveliest white silk +dress you ever saw, just the spittin' image of her own, because I'm +to be her bridesmaid, that's three; and I'm happy because"--she +hesitated, as a sudden shyness seized her--"oh, well, I'm just +happy." + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +"IN CASE----" + + + Ah! well for us all some deep hope lies + Deeply buried from mortal eyes. + + _----Whittier._ + + +PEARL went around the settlement the next week, to tell the people +that there would be church in the schoolhouse the next Sunday +afternoon. + +On Monday evening, coming home from school, she went into the Perkins +home. She had not seen Martha since she had lived at the Motherwells' +the year before. It was a large frame house, with a well-kept garden +in front and a hedge of purple and white lilacs in full bloom. Pearl +was standing looking at the hedge in mute enjoyment, when Martha came +out to get green onions and lettuce for tea. + +"Take some lilacs, Pearl," she said, pointing to them. "They are +pretty, aren't they?" + +"Oh, Martha!" Pearl cried, "you must be happy living with these +things. Don't you just wish you could gather up all the poor little +children? Mr. Donald was reading to us out of a magazine to-day, and +showing us the pictures of how they are crowded together in the +cities, and never see any grass, just all side walks and black dirt. +Wouldn't you love to let them all have a look and a smell and armful +and be happy for once?" + +"I guess it doesn't do much good to be once if it doesn't last." + +"Well, I don't know," Pearl said, after some deliberation. "I believe +it does. I've often heard Ma tell about the day she and Pa were +married, how the sun just danced on the flowers and the grass, and +she carried a big sheaf of lilacs, and when she came to this country, +and it was all so new and bare, and no flowers only the wild ones, +and she hadn't got used to them, she often thought of them lilacs and +pretty near smelled them again, and cried over them, and got real +happy just thinkin' of them. You know there's a lot in lilacs, more +than their beauty. Some flowers have a lot in them, just like people. +Now, there's the wild sunflower, it's a pretty flower, with real rich +colours, yellow and brown; but nobody ever cries over it, or has a +good time over it in any way, because it doesn't make you think of +anything." + +"It's just a weed," Martha said with conviction. + +"Well, now," Pearl went on, "even some weeds have something in them. +There's the blue cockle and the ball mustard. They're bad weeds, but +they're pretty. They've got a sort of a bold-as-brass look about +them, and they have to be pulled, but they're pretty." + +"Yes; they're pretty," Martha agreed. She had often thought about the +cockle as she pulled it out of the garden. The flaming purple of it, +so strong and bold and defiant, seemed to mock her and sneer at her +sallow face and streaky, hay-coloured hair. In her best moments she +had often wondered how it could be so bad when it was so beautiful, +but there were times, too, when she had almost envied the bold and +evil cockle, and thought bitterly that somehow it had the best of it. + +"But what's the use of its lovely flashing purple?" Pearl said, as if +in answer to her thoughts. "Nobody likes it, and it just gets rooted +up and flung in heaps. It only takes up room and spoils crops and +makes people mad. Look at the mignonette--it isn't pretty, but +everybody loves it and plants it, and don't think a garden's a garden +without it. Oh, I tell ye, Martha, beauty ain't everything, unless, +ye can back it up with something better. Lots of the finest people on +earth ain't much to look at, but nobody thinks of that." + +Pearl was pinning a spray of lilac on her print dress as she talked. +Then she made known her errand. + +"Yes, I'll go," Martha said, readily. "And so will Bud. He likes Mr. +Burrell. Pa and Ma will go, too, I guess. I'll be glad to have +somewhere to go on Sunday afternoons--it's lonesome since Edith went +to Winnipeg. Come in, Pearl. You've never been in our house yet, have +you?" + +Pearl followed her into the big kitchen, spotlessly clean and +comfortable. Three windows let in the afternoon sunlight, windows +that sparkled from a recent washing; a trailing fuchsia in full +bloom, in an old wash-basin painted green, was suspended from the +ceiling in front of the east window. There were flowers in every +window, abundant in bloom, showing that a loving hand was caring for +them. On the wall was a paper-holder made of cretonne with beads +outlining the flowers. + +"Did Mrs. Cavers make that?" Pearl asked quickly. "Yes," Martha said. +"Mrs. Cavers gave it to mother years ago." + +There was a bookshelf made by stringing together empty spools, with +two boards covered with flowered cretonne for the shelves, but the +only books on it were a cook-book, covered with oil-cloth, and +Kendall's Horse Book. A framed picture of "Dan Patch" was on the +wall. + +"That belongs to Bud," she said smiling. "He's the greatest boy for +horses--he's always training the colts, down in the pasture. He has +one now that is a pacer. He's always wanting to run his colts in the +races, but father won't let him. I've never been a race in my life, +have you?" + +"Oh, yes," Pearl said. "I've been at every race that I ever was near +enough to go to, or lacrosse match or baseball match, or anything. +You sure must come to the Pioneers' Picnic this year, Martha; we will +have a splendid time." + +"I've never had time to go," Martha said slowly. "I've always had to +stay home and look after things, and besides, I don't know many +people and I don't like going among strangers. I often get lonesome +now since Mrs. Cavers has gone to live on the other farm, and I am +real glad you came over, Pearl. I hope you and I will be good +friends." + +Pearl looked at her with quick sympathy. + +"You bet we will, Martha," she said heartily. + +Martha's pale face flushed with pleasure. Pearl was quick to notice +what a fine forehead and what steady, calm eyes she had, and that +she would be a good-looking girl if her hair were combed becomingly. +Poor Martha, who stayed so much at home, knew but one way of +hair-dressing, which was to part it in the middle and comb it +straight back--the way hair was done when her mother was young. She +was dressed in a clean, starched dress of gray print, plain as a +nun's. Pearl noticed that her teeth were clean and even, and her +active brain was doing a rapid summing-up of Martha's chances for +beauty. + +"Look at how pretty her teeth are," she was thinking to herself; "she +may not know how to do her hair, but you bet she takes care of them. +Whether or not yer hair's combed right is a matter of style, but +clean or dirty teeth is a matter of the heart. Martha's heart's all +right, you bet; and say, wouldn't she look fine in a wine, coloured +dress, made long, with lots of fluffy things to make her look rounder +and fatter, and her hair like Miss Morrison's, all kinkly and puffed, +with a smashin' big combs with diamonds--no, I wouldn't just like a +big comb either, it wouldn't suit her face. I just wish Camilla could +live in the house with her for a while. She'd make Martha look a +different girl. She's got hair, too," Pearl was thinking, "but she +rolls it into such a hard little nub you'd never know. It needs to be +all fluffed out. That nub of hair is just like Martha herself. It's +all there, good stuff in it, but it needs to be fluffed out." + +"Stay for tea, Pearl," Martha was saying. "Father and Mother are +away, and there's only Bud and me at home." + +Pearl readily agreed. She had told her mother that she probably would +not be home for tea. Pearl's social instincts were strong. + +Martha took her into the parlour, a close, stuffy little room, and +showed some of her treasured possessions. There were the hair-wreath, +the seed-wreath, and the wax flowers, which, to Pearl, were triumphs +of art. There were three huckaback cushions standing stiff and grand +on the high back of the lounge, and another one made of little buns +of silk beside them, all far beyond the reach of mortal head. + +"Do you never use them, Martha?" Pearl asked, touching them gently. +"Do you know, I like cushions that are not half as pretty, but look +more friendly like and welcome. But these are just lovely," she added +quickly. + +An enlarged picture of Mr. Perkins was on one wall, while on the +opposite side of the room hung one of Mrs. Perkins. + +Pearl told the other children about them when she went home. "There +they are," she said, "just glarin' straight at each other, day and +night, winter or summer, just the same, neither one of them givin' in +an inch. 'I can stare as long as you,' you'd think they was saying, +the way they've got their eyes glued on one another; and it ain't +cheerful." + +A hanging lamp, with its fringe of glittering pendants, hung over a +table made of spools like the bookshelves, and covered with a drape +of tissue paper table-napkins, cut into a deep fringe around the +edge. + +The table that held the family Bible had a cover made of rope, +hanging in huge tassels down at each corner. Under the carpet had +been placed newspapers, to make it wear better, and it crackled +noisily as they walked over it. On the window curtains were pinned +little calendars and Christmas cards, stuck on ribbons. + +To Pearl these decorations were full of beauty, all except the wool +wreath, which hung over the lounge in a deep frame covered with +glass; but its indigo and mustard coloured roses and swollen bright +green leaves made her suspicious that it was not in keeping with the +findings of good taste. + +There was something in Pearl's sympathetic interest that encouraged +Martha to show her the contents of a cupboard upstairs in her room. + +There were quilts in abundance. Martha held them up lovingly in +different angles to show how they "make a pattern every way you look +at them." There were the "Pavements of New York" in blue and white, +the "Double Irish Chain" in red and white, "Fox and Geese" in buff +and white; there were daintily hemstitched sheets and pillow covers; +there were hooked mats in great variety, a lovely one in autumn +leaves which seemed a wonderful creation to Pearl; there were +pin-cushions, all ribbon and lace, and picture-frames ready for +pictures, made of pine cones that Martha had gathered on the +sand-hills of the Assiniboine. + +When Pearl had feasted her eyes on all these wonders and praised them +abundantly, Martha opened her trunk and showed her a still more +precious store of hand embroidery, such beautiful garments as Pearl +had never dreamed of. + +"Martha," she cried impulsively, "are you going to be married, too?" + +Martha's pale face flushed painfully, and Pearl was quick to see her +mistake. + +"No, I am not, Pearl," she answered steadily. + +"Not just now," Pearl said, trying to speak carelessly; "but, of +course, you will some time. Such a clever girl as you are will be +sure to get married. You're a dandy housekeeper, Martha, and when it +comes to gettin' married, that's what counts." + +"Oh, no, Pearl, there are other things more important than that," +Martha spoke sadly and with settled conviction. She was standing at +the foot of the bed, looking out between the muslin curtains at the +level stretch of country, bordered by the wooded river bank. She had +been looking at this same scene, varied only by the changing seasons, +for many weary, wearing years, and the big elms on the river bank had +looked back indifferently, although they must have known that Martha +was growing old, that Martha was fading, and that the chances of the +trunk and cupboardful ever being used were growing less. The long +arms of the windmill on the barn caught the sunlight and threw it in +a thousand dancing splinters on the floor behind her. + +"Being a good housekeeper hasn't got anything to do with getting +married," she said again, and her voice was tense with feeling. "I +can work and keep house, and sew and bake; but no man would ever +fancy me' why should he? A man wants his wife to be pretty and smart +and bright, and what am I?" + +The strain in her voice struck Pearl's heart with pity. + +"I am old, and wrinkled, and weatherbeaten. Look at that, Pearl." She +held up her hands, so cruelly lined and calloused: "That's my +picture; they look like me." + +"No, no, no!" Pearl cried, throwing her arms around Martha's thin +shoulders, and holding her tight in her strong young arms. "You're +only twenty-five, and that's not old; and your looks are all right if +you would only do your hair out bigger and fluffier, and you'd get to +be a better figure if you'd breathe deep, and throw back your +shoulders, and sleep with your windows open. I read all about it, and +I'll get it for you. It was in a paper Camilla gets--a long piece +called 'How to Be Pretty, though Plain.' I am doin' the things, too, +and we'll do them together, Martha. See here, Martha, here's the way +to breathe, and here's the way to throw back your shoulders"--suiting +the action to the word--"and a cold bath every morning will give you +rosy cheeks." + +She kissed Martha impulsively. "Oh, you bet you'll get married, +Martha, and I'll be your bridesmaid--me and Bud will be it--and Lib +Cavers will be maid of honour and carry a shock of lilacs, and I'll +write a piece about it for the paper." + +Martha smiled bravely, and Pearl was too polite to notice that her +eyes were suspiciously dewy. + +"Oh, no, Pearl," she said, as she put away all the things carefully, +"I guess I'll never be married; but I love to make these things, and +when I'm sewing at them I often imagine things, foolish things +that'll never be; but I have them all ready, anyway"--she was closing +down her trunk lid--"I have them ready, anyway--in case--well, just +in case----". + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE SOWING + + + "And other fell on good ground." + + +"EVERYTHING else is pretty only the old school," said Mary Watson. +"Look at the sky and the grass and the spruce trees on the +sandhills--all nice colours only the old school, and it's just a +grindy-gray-russet inside and out." + +Mary was a plain-spoken young lady of ten. + +"Well, we can clean it, anyway," Pearl said hopefully. "If we get it +clean it won't look so bad, even if it ain't pretty; and we can get +lots of violets, though they don't show much; but we'll know they're +there; and we can get cherry-blossoms and put them in something big +on the desk for the minister to look over, and they'll do him good, +for he'll see that somebody thought about it." + +Maudie Steadman did not think much of the idea of violets and +cherry-blossoms. Maudie was fat, and had pale freekles all over her +face and on her hands. She talked in a jerky way, and was always out +of breath. + +"Perhaps we could get Maw's tissue-paper flowers. She's got lovely +purple roses and yellow ones, and the like o' that," Maudie said. + +Pearl considered it awhile. + +"No, Maudie," she said. "Paper roses are fine in the winter, but in +the summer, if you use them, it looks as if you don't think much of +the kind that God's puttin' up, and you think you can do better +yourself. So I think with lots of meadow rue for the green stuff and +violets and blossoms, it'll be all right. Anyway, when the people get +in with their Sunday clothes on, and the flowers on their hats, it'll +take the bare look off it." + +When Sunday came it seemed as if it were a day specially prepared for +the beginning of religious instruction in the Chicken Hill School. +The sky was cloudless save for little gauzy white flakes--"puffs of +chiffon that had blown off the angels' hats," Mary Watson said they +were. The grain was just high enough to run in waves before the wind, +and even Grandfather Gray, Mrs. Steadman's father, admitted that the +"craps were as far on as he'd ever seen them"; but in order that no +one could accuse him of stirring up false hopes, he pointed out that +"the wheat has a long way to go yet before the snow flies, and +there's lots that might happen it." + +By half-past two o'clock, the time set for the service, the yard was +well filled with buggies and waggons, while knots of men, looking +uncomfortable in high collars, stood discussing the crops and the +price of horses, all in the best of humour. When they saw the +minister's gray horse coming, the minister himself became the subject +of conversation. + +"It beats me," George Steadman said, springing the lid of his pipe +with his thumb as he struck a match on the sole of his boot, "it +beats me what a man sees in preaching as a steady job. It's easy +work, all right, only one day in the week; but there's no money in +it. A man can make more money at almost anything else he goes at"--he +was thinking of short-horns--"and be more independent. It certainly +beats me why they do it." + +"Did ye ever hear, George, of greater rewards than money, and a +greater happiness than being independent?" Roderick Ray, the Scottish +Covenanter, asked gently, as he unbuckled his "beast" from the cart. +Roderick Ray had a farm on Oak Creek, three miles east of the +schoolhouse. "Yon man is a Methodist, an' I'm na' sa fond o' them as +o' some ithers, but I can see he has the root o' the matter in him +for all; and I'm thinkin' that he has the smile o' his Lord and +Master on him, an' that's better nor gold, nor siller, nor houses, +nor lands, nor cattle on a thousand hills; for, after all, George, +these things slip frae us easy and we slip away frae them easier +still, an' it's then we'll hear the Good Man ask: 'An' hoo did ye +spend the years I gave ye? Did ye warn the sinner, teach the young, +feed the hungry an' comfort the sad?' An' I'm thinkin', George, that +to all this yon little man, Methoda body though he be, will be able +to give a verra guid answer an' a very acceptable one." + +The men sat on one side of the school, and the women on the other. +Even a very small boy, when he found himself sitting with the women, +made a scurry across to the other side. Danny Watson alone of the +male portion of the congregation was unaffected by this arrangement, +and clung to his sister Pearl, quite oblivious of public opinion. + +Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne sat beside the window, in the seat ahead +of Danny, Mary, and Pearl. Mrs. Cavers's eyes were on the group of +men at the woodpile, for Bill was among them, very much smartened up +in his good clothes. She had had some difficulty in persuading him to +come. He wanted to stay at home and sleep, he said. While the men +talked beside the woodpile, Sandy Braden, the hotelkeeper, drove up +with his pacing horse and rubber-tired buggy. He stopped to talk to +the men. Sandy was a very genial fellow, and a general favourite. + +Mrs. Cavers sat perfectly still; only the compression of her lips +showed her agitation. + +"Come on, Bill, and I'll give you a good swift ride," she heard him +say. + +Bill hesitated and looked around uneasily. Sandy gave him a +significant wink and then he went without a word. + +Inside, Mrs. Cavers gave a little smothered cry, which Libby Anne +understood. She moved nearer to her mother in sympathy. + +Mrs. Cavers leaned forward, straining her eyes after the cloud of +dust that marked the pacing horse's progress, clasping and unclasping +her hands in wordless misery. Bill was gone--she had lost him again. +The wind drove ripples in the grain, the little white clouds hung +motionless in the sky, but Bill was gone, and the sun, bright and +pitiless, was shining over all. Then the other men came in and the +service began. + +The singing was led by Roderick Ray, who had the Covenanters' blood +in his veins. He carried a tuning-fork with him always, and fitted +the psalm tunes to the hymns, carrying them through in a rolling +baritone, and swinging his whole body to the motion. + +The Reverend John Burrell was a student of men. He had travelled the +North-West before the days of railways, by dog-train, snow-shoes, and +horse-back, preaching in the lumber camps and later on in the railway +camps, and it was a deep grief to him when his health broke down and +he was compelled to take a smaller appointment. He liked to be on the +firing-line. He was a gentle, shrewd, resourceful man, whose sense of +humour and absolute belief in the real presence of God had carried +him over many a rough place. + +As he stood before his congregation this day in the schoolhouse, a +great compassion for the men and women before him filled his heart. +He saw their lives, so narrow and bare and self-centred; he read the +hard lines that the struggle with drought and hail and weeds had +written on their faces; and so he spoke to them, not as a stranger +might speak, but as a brother, working with them, who also had +carried burdens and felt the sting of defeat; but who had gone a +little farther down the road, and had come back to tell them to +persevere, for things were better farther on! + +He had had to do with travel-stained, wayfaring men for so long that +he had got into the way of handing out to them at once, when he had +the opportunity, the richest treasures of his Father's storehouse. +When they looked to him for bread they were not given a stone, and +so, standing in the bare schoolroom that day, he preached to them +Christ, the Saviour of mankind, and showed the way of life eternal. + +There was something very winsome about Mr. Burrell's preaching, +not because of his eloquence, for he was a man of plain speech, +low-voiced and gentle, but because he spoke with the quiet certainty +of one who sees Him who is invisible. Near the front sat Bud Perkins +and Teddy Watson, athletic-looking young fellows, clear-eyed and +clean-skinned, just coming into their manhood, and there was a +responsiveness in the boys' faces that made the minister address his +appeal directly to them as he set before them the two ways, asking +them to choose the higher, the way of loving service and Christlike +endeavour. + +When the service was over, Mrs. Burrell went around shaking hands +with the women. "I am so glad we thought of holding service here," +she said genially. "You people do turn out so well. Is this Mrs. +Cavers?" she asked, as she shook hands with Mrs. Steadman. + +Pearl Watson put her right. + +Mrs. Steadman, in a broad black hat resplendent with cerise roses, +stiffened perceptibly, but Mrs. Burrell did not notice this, but +rattled on in her gayest humour. "I always do get those names mixed. +I knew there were the two families out here." + +She then turned to Mrs. Slater and Mrs. Motherwell. "It is a +bare-looking school, isn't it?" she said amiably. "You women ought +to try to fix it up some. It does look so wind-swept and parched and +cheerless." Mrs. Burrell prided herself on her plain speaking. + +At this Mrs. Steadman, who was a large, pompous woman, became so +indignant that the cerise roses on her hat fairly shook. "I guess it +doesn't keep the children from learning," she said hotly; "and that's +mostly what a school is for." + +"Oh, you are quite wrong, Mrs. Steadman," Mrs. Burrell replied, +wondering just how it had happened that she had given Mrs. Steadman +cause for offence. "Perhaps you think it doesn't prevent the children +from learning, but it does. There's plenty of other things for +children to learn besides what is in the books. Maybe they didn't +learn them when you were young, but it would have been better if they +had. Children should have a bed of flowers, and a little garden and +trees to play under." + +"Well, you can have them for yours," Mrs. Steadman said harshly, +narrowing her eyes down to glittering slits. She knew that Mrs. +Burrell had no children living; but when Mrs. Steadman's anger rose +she tried to say the bitterest thing she could think of. + +Mrs. Burrell was silent for a moment or two. Then she said gently: +"My little girl has them, Mrs. Steadman. She has the flowers that +never fade, and she needs no shade from trees, for no heat shall fall +upon them there. I wasn't thinking of my own, I was thinking of yours +and the other children who come here." + +"Well, I guess we've done more for the school than anybody else +anyway," Mrs. Steadman said loftily. "We pay taxes on nineteen +hundred acres of land, and only send two children." + +Mrs. Slater and Mrs. Motherwell joined the conversation then, and +endeavoured to smooth down Mrs. Steadman's ruled plumage. + +"She ain't goin' to dictate to us," Mrs. Steadman declared +vehemently, after Mrs. Burrell had gone to speak to Mrs. Watson and +Aunt Kate. Mrs. Steadman had a positive dread of having any person +"dictate" to her. + +Teddy Watson hitched up Mrs. Cavers's horse. There was still no sign +of Bill, and after a little talk with Martha Slater she and Libby +Anne drove sadly home. + +Bud Perkins got the minister's horse ready and stood holding it while +Mr. Burrell was talking to Roderick Ray, who wanted to be sure how +Mr. Burrell stood on election. When the conversation was over Mr. +Burrell walked over to where Bud was holding his horse. A sudden +impulse seized him. "Bud," he said gently, laying his hand on the +boy's shoulder, "I wonder if you are the good ground? I wonder if you +are going to let the seed grow?" + +Bud turned and looked the minister straight in the face, while a fine +flush came into his own. "I am going to try," he said simply. + +Mr. Burrell took hold of Bud's hand and said earnestly: "God only +knows what can be made of a young man who is willing to try." + +Bud's eyes were shining with emotion as he returned the handclasp. +And thus the good seed was sown in the fertile soil of Bud Perkins's +heart, destined to be cruelly choked by weeds in the evil days to +come, but never quite forgotten by the Master Sower! + +* * * + +On the way home Bud was strangely lent, and Martha, with quick +intuition, divined the cause. A great wave of emotion was surging +through the boy's heart, a great new love for every one and +everything; he wanted to do something, to suffer, to endure. Every +ripple that ran over the grain, every note of the robin and +meadowlark, the rustle of the leaves above them as they drove through +the poplar grove on the school section, were to him the voices of God +calling him to loving service. + +"Martha," he said suddenly, "I haven't been very good to you, have I, +old girl? Lots of times I could have been nicer and helped you more. +I want to be better to you now. I never thought of it before, but I +know that I've often let you do things that I might have done myself. +I am going to be kinder and better, I hope." + +Martha was not ready of speech. "You're all right, Bud," she said. "I +knew how you feel, and I'm glad." + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +SPIRITUAL ADVISORS + + + Like tides on a crescent sea-beach + When the moon is new and thin, + Into our hearts high yearnings + Come welling and surging in-- + Come from the mystic ocean + whose rim no foot has trod. + Some of us call it longing + And others call it God. + + _----W. H. Carruth._ + + +WHEN Bud and Martha reached home, Bud went straight to his father who +was sitting in his stockinged feet, yawning over a machinery +catalogue. "Dad," he said, "I'm going to be a better boy than I've +been." + +"How's that, Buddie?" Mr. Perkins asked suspiciously. + +Bud coloured uncomfortably. "I've made up my mind to be e a +Christian, father," he answered, after a pause. + +"All right, Bud, that's all right," the old man answered, letting the +catalogue fall to the floor. "A little religion is a fine thing, and +no one should be without it. I'm a religious man myself, Buddie, if +any one should ask you. I can always ask a blessing at the table when +there's company--you know that yourself--and I've attended church for +years; I never miss goin' the Sunday the Foresters get preached to. I +favour the Church of England, myself, though your ma's folks always +patronized the Methodists. I like the Church of England best because +they can give you such a dandy funeral, no matter who you are, by +George! and no questions asked. They sure can give a fellow a great +send-off. This little Burrell is a Methodist, isn't he?" + +"Yes, he's a Methodist," said Bud. + +"Well, now, Bud, I don't want to discourage you, but you have to be +careful how you get mixed up with them Methodists; they go too far +and are apt to overdo things. You mind when there was them big +revival meetings at Millford a few years ago. Well, sir, Brown, the +druggist, got religion and burned up all his pipes and tobacco; they +tell me they were as fine a stock of briar-roots and amber +mouthpieces as any person would care to see; people who raked over +the as ashes tell me it was a' terrible sight altogether--and he was +a smart man up to that time, makin' good ney sellin' rain-water for +medicine. Now, Buddie, go slow. I don't mind you goin' to church and +chippin' in your nickel when the plate passes, and it's all right to +buy stuff at their sales. I mind when the Church of England ladies +raffled off that quilt, I bought two ten-cent throws, and never +kicked when I didn't get it. I says: 'Oh, well, it's gone for a good +cause.' But don't let them get too strong a hold on you." + +"But, father," Bud said earnestly, "I want to stand up for everything +that's right. I want to be straight and honest, and help people, and +I've just been thinkin' about it--it's not fair to plug wheat the way +we've been doing--it's not right to pretend that it's all first class +when there's frozen grain in it." + +Thomas Perkins grew serious. + +"Buddie, dear," he said, "you're gettin' cluttered up with a lot of +bum ideas. A farmer has to hold his own against everybody else. +They're all trying to fleece him, and he's got to fool them if he +can. I'm honest myself, Bud, you know that; but there's nothing +pleases me quite so well as to be able to get eighty-seven cents a +bushel for wheat that I would only be gettin' fifty-three for if I +hadn't taken a little trouble when I was fillin' it up." + +"But it would make a fellow feel mean to get caught," Bud said, +trying to get hold of an argument that would have weight. + +"A fellow needn't be caught, Bud, if he ain't too graspin'. You don't +need to plug every time. They know blame well when a fellow has some +frozen wheat, and it don't do to draw in No. I hard or No. I Northern +every time. It's safest to plug it just one grade above what it is. +Oh, it's a game, Bud, and it takes a good player. Now, son, you run +along and bring up the cows, and don't you be worryin' about +religion. That's what happened me brother Jimmy, your own poor uncle. +He got all taken up with the Seventh Day Adventists, and his hired +help was gettin' two Sundays a week--he wouldn't let them work +Saturday and they wouldn't work Sunday. Your poor uncle was afraid to +let them work on Saturday, for, accordin' to his religion, you'd be +damned if you let your hired help work just the same as if you worked +yourself; but he used to say he'd be damned if he'd let them sit idle +and him payin' them big wages, and it was a bad mix-up, I tell you. +And then there was old man Redmond, he got religion and began to give +back things he said he'd stole--brought back bags to Steadman that he +'said he stole at a threshin' at my place; but they had Steadman's +name on them. It made lots of trouble, Bud, and I never saw anything +but trouble come out of this real rip-roarin' Methodist religion, and +I don't want you to get mixed up in it." + +Bud went down the ravine that led to the river with a troubled heart. +There was something sweet and satisfying just within reach, but it +eluded him as he tried to grasp it. Bud had never heard of +conviction of sin, repentance and justification, but he knew that a +mysterious something was struggling within him. He found the cows, +and turned them homeward. Then he flung himself on the grassy slope +of the river-bank and gave himself to bitter reflections. "There is +no use of me tryin' to be anybody," he thought sadly. "I don't know +anything, and I'd just make a fool of myself if I was to try to do +anything." + +A flock of plovers circled over his head, rapidly whirring their +wings, then sailing easily higher and higher into the blue of the +evening sky. He looked after them enviously. + +"Things don't bother those chaps," he said to himself. + +He started up suddenly. Some one was calling his name. Looking across +the ravine, he saw Pearl Watson standing outside the fence. + +"Hello, Bud!" she shouted. "What's wrong?" + +He ran down the bank and up the opposite side of the ravine. + +"I am all out of humour, Pearl," he said. "I wish I had never been +born. I'm a big awkward lump." + +Pearl looked at him closely. + +"That's the devil, Bud," she said gravely. "He gets into people and +tells them they're no good, an' never will be. It's just his way of +keepin' people from doin' good things. You see, Bud, the devil ain't +so terrible particular about gettin' us to do bad things as just to +keep us from doin' good ones. If you do nothin' at all it will please +him all right, for all you've got to do to be lost is to do nothin'. +It's just like a stick in the river. If it just keeps quiet it will +go down stream, and so it is with us--things is movin' that way. Now, +Bud, them's wrong thoughts you're havin' about not bein' any good. +You can see, hear and talk, and sense things--that's all anybody can +do. You're big and strong, and most likely will live fifty years. +Here, now, God has set you up with a whole outfit--what are you goin' +to do with it?" + +"That's what I don't know, Pearl," he said. "What can I do? Where can +I go where I'll be any real use?" + +"You don't need to leave home, Bud," Pearl said; "you don't need to +be et up by cannibals to be a Christian. Stay right at home and go on +and work and do your work better than ever; just do it as if God +Himself was lookin' over your shoulder; and be that kind and gentle +that even the barn cats'll know who you're tryin' to be like. Earn +all the money you can, too, Bud. Do you know what I'm goin' to do +with my first money I earn? I'll be seventeen before I can teach, and +with the first money I get I'll send some to support a little girl in +India. She'll be called Pearl and I'll bring her up a Bible-woman." + +"I'm all discouraged," Bud said. + +Pearl leaned over the fence and said earnestly: "Bud, when I get +discouraged I take it as a sign that I haven't been keepin' prayed +up, and I go right at it and pray till I get feelin' fine. I'm goin' +to pray now." + +She knelt down on her side of the fence. He did the same. + +"Oh, God!" she said, "here's Bud all balled up in his mind, wantin' +to do right, but not knowin' how to go at it. I guess you've often +seen people like that, and know better how to go about strengthenin' +them up than I can tell You. Bud's all right of a boy, too, dear +Lord, when he gets a real grip on things. You should have seen him +wallop the daylight out of young Tom Steadman when he hit Lib Cavers. +I wasn't there; but they tell me is was something grand. Bless him +now, dear Lord, and never, never let go of Bud. Even if he lets go of +You, keep your grip on him. For the dear Saviour's sake, Amen." + +They rose from their knees and shook hands silently through the +barbed wire. + +"I wish I could believe as easy as you, Pearl," Bud said. + +"Look over there, Bud," she cried, pointing to the little house +beside the bluff. The setting sun had caught the western windows and +lit them into flame. "It's just like that with any of us, Bud. That +old windy is all cracked and patched, but look how it shines when the +sun gets a full blaze on it. That's like us, Bud. We're no good +ourselves, we're cracked and patched, but when God's love gets a +chance at us we can shine and glow." + +"You're a great kid, Pearl," he said. + +She laughed delightedly. "I'm like the windy," she said; "God puts +good thoughts in me because I keep turned broadside and catch all +that's comin' my way. Go home now, Bud, and don't ever say you're +discouraged again." + +They shook hands again silently through the fence, and parted. + +Through the tall elms and balms that fringed the river Bud could see +the Souris slipping swiftly over its shining pebbles, a broad ribbon +of gold coming out of the West, and it seemed as if some of the glory +of the sunset was coming to him on its sparkling waters. His eye +followed its course until it disappeared around the bend. A new +tenderness for it and a new sense of companionship filled his heart. + +"Good old Souris," he said, as he turned homeward. + +* * * + +On the Watson farm there were many improvements being made. The old +machinery that littered the yard had been taken away to the poplar +grove near by, where the boys spent many happy hours constructing +threshing-machines. On Arbour Day, under Pearl's inspection, each +child went to the river flat and dug up a small maple tree, and +planted it in front of where the new house was going to be. Pearl had +the exact location of the new house firmly fixed in her mind before +she had been many days on the farm, and soon had every person, even +Aunt Kate, helping to beautify the grounds. A wide hedge of the +little wild rosebushes which grew plentifully along the headlands, +was set out behind where the house was to stand, to divide the lawn +from the garden, Pearl said, and although to the ordinary eye they +were a weedy looking lot, to Pearl's optimistic vision they, were +already aglow with fragrant bloom. Aunt Kate sent down east to her +sister Lib for roots of sweet Mary, ribbon-grass, and live-forever, +all of which came, took root, and grew in the course of time. + +Pearl's dream of a fine chicken-house under the trees began to assume +tangible form when Mrs. Slater came to call, and brought with her a +fine yellow hen and thirteen little woolly chicks. Mrs. Motherwell +came, too, and brought with her a similar offering, only hers were +Plymouth Rocks. Mrs. John Green brought nine little fluffy ducklings +and their proud but perplexed mother, a fine white Orpington. Gifts +like these often accompany first calls in the agricultural districts +of the West. They answer the purpose of, and indeed have some +advantage over, the engraved card with lower left-hand corner turned +down, in expressing friendly greetings to all members of the family. + +Temporary dwellings were hastily constructed of packing boxes for the +hens and their respective flocks, but after seeding, a real henhouse, +made of logs with a sod roof, was erected. + +One thing troubled Pearl's conscience. She was not sure that they had +been real square with the Caverses. It was quite legal for them to +take possession of the farm, of course, for Bill Cavers had abandoned +it; but should they not pay something for the improvements that had +been made? The house had sheltered them, and the stable, such as it +was, was better than no stable--it did not seem right to take it for +nothing. She spoke to her father about it, and he readily agreed with +her, and said they would "do something" when they saw how the crop +turned out. + +Pearl worked hard at school, and made such rapid progress that one +day Mr. Donald told her, after reading one of her compositions, that +he believed he could "put her through for a teacher" in a couple of +years, she was doing so well. Pearl stared at him speechless with +joy. Then she went to the window and looked out at the glorious June +day, that all at once had grown more glorious still. The whole +landscape seemed to Pearl to be swimming in a golden mist. An oriole +flew carolling gaily over the woodpile, singing the very song that +was in her own heart. When she came back to the teacher's desk her +eyes were shining with happy tears. + +"Just to think," she said in a tremulous voice, "that I can do me +duty to the boys and git me stifficate at the same time! I just feel +like I ought to apologize to God for ever doubtin' that I'd get it." +Then she told the teacher of the fears she had when coming out on the +farm, that she would have no further chance of an education. "And +now," she concluded, "here I am doin' me duty and gettin' me chance +at the same time. Ain't that happiness enough for any one?" + +The teacher looked at her wonderingly. "You're a cheerful +philosopher, Pearl," he said gravely, "and you make me wish I was +twenty years younger." + +Pearl looked in her dictionary to find what "philosopher" meant, but +even then she could not imagine why Mr. Donald wanted to be twenty +years younger. + +After Pearl's visit to the Perkins home, when Martha showed her all +her treasures, her active brain had been busy devising means of +improving Martha, mentally and physically. After consulting with +Camilla, Pearl went over to see Martha again, full enthusiasm and +beauty-producing devices. She put Martha through a series of +calisthenics and breathing exercises she had learned at school, for +Martha was inclined to stoop, and Camilla had said that "a graceful +carriage was one of the most important things." + +Martha had never had any money of her own, having always sold her +butter to the store and received due bills in return. Thomas Perkins +was not mean about anything but money--he would gladly give to his +children anything else that he possessed--but he considered it a very +unlucky thing to part with money. Pearl saw plainly that cold cash +was necessary for carrying out her plans for Martha, and so, acting +on Camilla's suggestion, she got customers for Martha's butter who +would pay her cash every week. + +She got for Martha, too, a lotion for her hands which, put on +regularly every night, was sure to soften and whiten them. She showed +her how to treat her hair to make it lose its 'hard, stringy look. +Camilla had written out full instructions and sent a piece of the +soap that would do the work. + +When Martha got her first butter money she sent for the magazine that +she had wanted her father to give her the money for before, and when +the first number came, she read it diligently and became what the +magazine people would call a "good user." Pearl had inspired in her a +belief in her own possibilities, and it was wonderful to see how soon +she began to make the best of herself. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE PIONEERS' PICNIC + + + It is always fair weather + When good fellows get together. + + _----Old Song._ + + +THE Pioneers' Picnic was the great annual social event of the Souris +Valley, and was looked forward to by young and old. It was held each +year on the first day of July, on the green flats below the town of +Millford. In John Watson's home, as in many others, preparations for +it began early. + +One very necessary part of the real enjoyment of a holiday is cash, +cold, hard cash, for ice-cream, lemonade; and "Long Toms" can only be +procured in that way. + +Tommy and Patsey for the first time bitterly regretted their country +residence, for if they had been in Millford, they said, they could +have delivered parcels and run errands and have had a hundred dollars +saved easy. Pearl suggested the black bottles that were so numerous +in the bush as a possible source of revenue, and so every piece of +scrub and the bluff behind the house were scoured for bottles. +Thirty-seven were found, and were cleaned and boxed ready for the +day. + +Then Bugsey's conscience woke up and refused to be silenced. "Lib +Cavers ought to have them," he said sadly. + +The others scouted the idea. Bugsey was as loath to part with them as +the others; but they had their consciences under control and Bugsey +had not. + +"She couldn't take them in and sell them," said Tommy, speaking very +loudly and firmly, to drown the voice of his conscience. "It wouldn't +be dacent, everybody knowin' where they came from, and what was in +them, and where it went to, and who it was, and all." + +Tommy had ideas on what constituted good form. + +Pearl was called upon to settle it and, after some thought, gave her +decision. + +"If you give Lib Cavers one package of 'Long Tom' popcorn and one of +gum for a present, it'll be all right. Don't tell her why yer givin' +it to her--just say, 'Present from a friend,' when you hand it to +her." + +"Maybe she don't like popcorn, anyway," Bugsey said, beginning to +hope; "and I don't believe her ma will let her chew gum; and it don't +look nice for little girls," he added virtuously. + +"I'll tell you what we'll do," said Tommy, who was a diplomat. "We'll +give it to her ma to give to her." + +"Offer it, you mean," corrected Patsey; '"give it' means she tuk it." + +Aunt Kate had been busy making suits for her young nephews all +spring, for Aunt Kate was very handy with the needle. She had made +shirts for Teddy and Billy with elaborate "flossin'" down the front, +so elaborate indeed that it threatened to upset the peace of the +family. Billy rebelled openly, and Teddy said when he was out of his +Aunt's hearing, that he would rather go without a shirt than wear +that scalloped thing. Aunt Kate was serene through it all, and told +them how fond their Uncle Bill had been of that same pea-vine +pattern. Pearl saw at once that there was going to be a family jar, +and so saved the situation by getting Martha Perkins to make wide +silk ties for the two boys, wide enough to hide the ramifications of +the pea-vine--and then to avoid the uncomfortable questioning of Aunt +Kate, she hid her glasses on the evening of June the thirtieth. +"Anyway," Pearl said to herself, "she might get them broke on a big +day like the 'First,' and she can see plenty without them, so she +can." + +The 'morning of July the first broke clear and sparkling, and before +six o'clock the whole Watson family were stirring. Out in the garden +the four little boys were pulling radishes and tying them into +bunches. Mary, her hair done in many tight little pigtails, was doing +a flourishing business' in lettuce. Jimmy was at the head of the +green onion department. The Watsons had the contract of supplying +green vegetables to the hotel for the day. + +Pearl and Aunt Kate were sorting out clothes, while Mrs. Watson got +the breakfast. + +Down on the river-bank John Watson was cutting down poles for the new +stable that he was going to put up in the fall. There was a great +contentment in his heart as he looked at his twenty acres of wheat +and the same of oats. The season had been so favourable that although +the grain had been sown late, it was now well advanced. A field of +fifteen acres farther up the river had been cleared and ploughed and +would be in crop next year, and as he looked at his land in the +sparkling morning sunshine something of Pearl's optimistic vision +came to him, and in his fancy he saw all the roots and scrub cleared +away and replaced by magnificent fields of grain, dappled with light +and shade, his pasture full of cattle, a comfortable house instead of +the weatherworn one before him, himself and the "Missus" enjoying +peace and plenty; and the children growing up in wisdom's ways; and +Pearlie--his heart's treasure, little Pearl, with the "natest fut in +the country, and the sparrow shins of her"--Pearlie getting her +chance. + +"Faith, there's few of them can bate our Pearlie, I'm thinkin', if +she can only get the chance." + +By ten o'clock active preparations began on the junior members of the +family. Mary's hair showed that putting in fourteen hard braids the +night before is worth the trouble. She had a lovely barred muslin +made out of an old one of Aunt Kate's that she couldn't wear now, +being in mourning. + +There were new suits for some, clean suits for all, and the only +disturbance that occurred was when Danny would not "hold still" while +Pearl fastened the front of his blouse; but just a hint of leaving +him at home, made a better boy of Danny at once. + +Bugsey, who was the first one dressed, went out to watch the weather, +and in a short time came running in, in tears. There was a cloud +coming up, and Bugsey, the pessimist, knew it was going to rain. + +Pearl backed Danny out of the door, holding tight by his tie-strings, +to look at the weather. Sure enough, black clouds had formed in the +west, and were marching relentlessly up the sky. The whole family +came out to look. In the east the sun blazed bright and unconcerned. +The old pig ran past them carrying a wisp of hay in her mouth, and by +common impulse three of the boys threw sticks after her. She was just +trying to make it rain--she couldn't go to the picnic herself, and +she'd just like to see it rain! Little whirls of wind circled around +in the hip-yard, and there was an ominous roll of distant thunder. +Loud wails broke from Bugsey, Danny, and Mary, and when the edge of +the cloud went over the sun and the whole landscape darkened the +wails became general. + +"Come into the house," commanded Pearl, "it's only goin' to be a +shower and lay the dust. Cheer up, there's enough blue 'sky to make a +pair of pants, and it's not time for us to be goin' yet, anyway." + +The tearful family followed her into the house and sat in doleful +silence watching the big drops that began to beat on the western +window. + +Pearl was a strong believer in work as a remedy for worry. Jimmy was +put to tightening up the buttons on his new suit. Tommy blackened +boots with lampblack and lard, and Bugsey, who was weeping copiously, +was put to counting radishes as a little bit of "busy work." + +Pearl kept up a brave show of confidence in the weather, but Mrs. +Watson's and Aunt Kate's contributions to the conversation were all +of a humid character and dealt with spoiled feathers, parasols blown +inside out, and muslin dresses so spattered with mud that they were +not worth bringing home. + +Pearl continued her preparations in the face of great discouragement. +Aunt Kate foretold a three days' rain--it looked to be settlin' that +way, and besides, look at that old gray hen, she hadn't gone in, and +that was a sure sign of a long rain. This brought a renewed downpour +in the house. + +Pearl grew desperate. "Look at all the other hens that did go in," +she said, as she tied the bows in her own hair. "I don't see the +sense of taking that crazy old ike of a hen's word for it against all +the other hens that have gone in. She's a mournful old thing, and is +staying out to make the other ones feel bad, or else she don't know +enough to go in. Hurry up, Mary, and get all that stuff in; it's a +quarter to eleven now, and we've got Tommy to do yet when he's done +with the boots. It's none of our business whether it rains now or +not. We're not wantin' to go just now." + +"Pearlie, dear," her mother said, "you're raisin' too many hopes in +them." + +"Hopes!" Pearl cried. "Did you say hopes, Ma? They look like a bunch +with too many hopes, settin' there blubberin' their eyes out and +spoiling their looks." + +By eleven o'clock everything was ready but the weather, and then, as +if it suddenly dawned on the elements that this was hardly a square +deal on Pioneers' Picnic day, the clouds parted right over John +Watson's house, and a patch of blue sky, ever widening, smiled down +encouragingly. Sorrow was changed to joy. Bugsey dried his eyes when +he saw the sun shining on the Brandon Hills. + +A little breeze frolicked over the trees and flung down the raindrops +in glittering showers, and at exactly a quarter past eleven the +Watson family, seated on three seats in the high-boxed waggon, drove +gaily out of the yard. + +"Sure, we enjoy it all the better for getting the scare," said Mary +the philosopher. + +The Perkinses, in their two-seated buggy, were just ahead on the +road. Even Martha, encouraged by Pearl, was coming to the picnic. + +Behind the Watsons came the Caverses and the Motherwells. + +"Let's ask Libby Anne to ride with us," said Tommy, but Mary, with +fine tact, pointed out that she would see the bottles, and it might +hurt her feelings, "for, mind you," said Mary, "she knows, young and +all as she is." + +Mary was one year younger herself. + +Along every trail that led into the little town came buggies and +waggons, their occupants in the highest good humour. There was a +laughing ripple in the meadowlark's song, as if he were declaring +that he knew all the time that the rain was only a joke. + +Across the river lay the Horsehoe slough, a crescent of glistening +silver, over which wild ducks circled and skimmed and then sank into +its clear waters, splashing riotously, as if they, too, were holding +an "Old Boys' Reunion." It was the close season for wild fowl, and +nobody knew it better than they. + +Coming down into the valley, innumerable horses, unhitched and tied +to the wagons, were to be seen. The rain had driven away the +mosquitoes, and a cool breeze, perfumed with wild roses and cowslips, +came gently from the West. The Watsons drove to a clump of poplar +trees which seemed to offer shade for the horses. Bugsey and Tommy +carried the box of bottles to the drug-store, admonished by Pearl to +drive a close bargain. + +Pearl went with Jimmy and Patsey, who took the green vegetables to +the hotel. Jimmy had been accustomed to bringing milk to the back +door and was quite an admirer of Mr. Braden, the genial proprietor. + +Mr. Braden himself came into the kitchen just as they knocked at the +door. He was faultlessly dressed, and in a particularly happy mood, +for the first of July was one of his richest harvests, both in the +dining-room and in the bar, where many a dollar would be laid on the +altar of "auld lang syne"; and besides this, Sandy Braden was really +glad to see all the old timers, apart from any thought of making +money. He paid Jimmy for the vegetables, and gave him an extra +quarter for a treat for himself and the others. + +Acting on a sudden impulse, Pearl said: "Mr. Braden, you know Bill +Cavers, don't you?" + +Mr. Braden said he did. + +"Well," said Pearl, "they've all come to town to-day. Mrs. Cavers +hasn't been here for ever so long, but Bill promised to stay sober +to-day if she'd come." + +Pearl hesitated. + +"Well, what else?" he said. + +"They're goin' to have a photo taken to send home to her folks in +Ontario. Mrs. Cavers is all fixed up, with her hair curled, and Libby +Anne has a new dress made out of her mother's weddin' one, and Bill +is lookin' fine--he hasn't been drunk since that Sunday you took him +away from the school when we were havin' church." + +Mr. Braden suddenly stopped smiling. + +"And what I want to ask you, Mr. Braden, as a real favour, is not to +fill Bill up until they get the photo taken, anyway. You know how his +lip hangs when' he's drunk--he wouldn't look nice in a photo to send +home. Mrs. Cavers went all white and twitchy that day you took him +away from church. I was right behind her, and I guess that's how +she'd look in a photo if he got drunk, and she wouldn't look nice, +either; and even Libby Anne wouldn't be lookin' her best, because she +gets mad when her father is drunk, and says she'd like to kill you, +and burn up all your whiskey, and lots of things like that that ain't +real Christian. So you see, it would spoil the whole picture if you +let him get drunk." + +Sandy Braden was not a hard-hearted man, and so, when Pearl told him +all this with her eyes on him straight and honest and fearless, he +was distinctly uncomfortable. + +He tried to get a grip on himself. "Who told you to come to me about +it?" he asked suspiciously. + +"Nobody told me," Pearl said. "I never thought of it myself until I +saw you lookin' so fine and such fine clothes on you, and you so full +of good humour, and I thought maybe you're not as bad as I always +thought you were, and maybe you don't know what a bad time Mrs. +Cavers and Libby Anne have when Bill drinks. + +"You see," Pearl continued, after she had waited in vain for him to +speak, "you've got all Bill had anyway. You mind the money they saved +to go home--you got that, I guess, didn't you? And you'll not be +losin' anything to-day, for Bill hasn't got it. He gave all the money +he had to Mrs. Cavers--he was afraid he'd spend it--and that's what +they're goin' to get the photo with." + +Sandy Braden continued to look at the floor, and seemed to be +unconscious of her presence. + +"That's all I was wantin' to say," Pearl said at last. He looked up +then, and Pearl was struck with the queer white look in his face. + +"All right, Pearl," he said. "I promise you Bill won't get a drop +here to-day." He tried to smile. "I hope the photo will turn out +well." + +"Thank you, Mr. Braden," Pearl said. "Good-bye." + +Sandy Braden went back to the bar-room and told his bartender not to +sell to Bill Cavers under any consideration. The bartender, who owned +a share the business, became suspicious at once. + +"Why not?" he asked. + +"Because I don't want Bill Cavers to get drunk, that's all," he said +shortly. + +"Out with it, Sandy. Who's been at you? the W. C. T. U. been +interviewing you?" + +"That's none of your business Bob. If I choose to shut down on Bill +Cavers it's nobody's business, is it?" + +"Well, now, I guess it's some of my business," the bartender said. +"Don't forget that I have a little interest in this part of the +joint; and besides, you know my principles. I'll sell to any one who +has the money--we're out for the coin, and we're not runnin' any Band +of Hope." + +"Now, see here, Bob, this man Cavers drinks up every cent he earns, +and to-day I happen to know that he is trying to keep straight. +They've come in to get a photo taken, and she hasn't been off the +farm for years." + +The bartender laughed. + +"Bill will take a hot photo when he gets about two finger-lengths in +him! No, it's not our business who buys. We're here to sell. That's +one thing I don't believe in, is refusin' liquor to any man. Every +man has a perfect right to as much liquor as he wants." + +Sandy Braden was about to make a spirited reply, but some one called +him in the office and in the excitement of the day's events he forgot +all about Bill Cavers until his attention was called toward him later +in the day. + +* * * + +Meanwhile the boys had disposed of their bottles to the drug-store, +receiving in payment a bountiful supply of gum, licorice, and +drug-store candies, and a Union Jack for each one. There was quite +a run on bottles before an hour, for the Hogan twins cornered the +market by slipping around to the alley at the back of the store and +securing the bottles that stood in a box in the back shed. Then +they came around to the front and sold them again, flags being the +consideration every time, for the twins were loyal sons of the +Dominion. + +The drug-store man had bought his own bottles twice before he found +out, but it is a proof of the twins' ability as financiers that they +did not come back after he found it out. Lots of silly little boys +would, but there is an advantage in being twins! + +Down below the town, on the river-flat, the old timers were getting +together. Under a grove of tall elms a group of the older men were +recounting the stirring scenes of the boom days, when flour was ten +dollars a bag, and sugar twenty-five cents a pound; and the big flood +of '82, when the Souris, the peaceful little murmuring stream that +now glinted through the trees below them, ran full from bank to bank +and every house in Millford had a raft tied to its back door. + +In the picnic grounds, which had been cleared out for this purpose +years before, the women, faded and worn, most of them, with many long +years on the prairie, but wonderfully brightened up by meeting old +friends, spread their table-covers on the long, rough tables, and +brought out the contents of their baskets. + +Mrs. Watson introduced her sister-in-law to all the old friends, who +at once received her into the sisterhood, and in a few minutes Aunt +Kate was exchanging opinions on lemon pies with the best of them. + +Then, speaking of pies, some one recalled Grandma Lowry's vinegar +pies-that triumph of housewifely art, whereby a pie is made without +eggs or milk or fruit, and still is a "pie!" + +"Wasn't she a wonder? Did you ever see the beat of old Grandma +Lowry?" they asked each other, looking up the hillside where they had +laid her the year before, and hushing their voices reverently as if +they were afraid that they might disturb her slumbers. + +"I brought some of the vinegar pies to-day," Mrs. Slater said. "I +thought it would be nice to remember her that way. She brought me +over two of them the first Christmas we were in the country. I never +will forget Grandma Lowry." + +A little old woman in black stopped cutting the cake suddenly and +looked up. Then she began to speak in a slow, monotonous voice. "She +came to me," she said, "when my three boys were down with diphtheria +in the dead of winter, and sat with my little Charlie the last night +he was on earth. I says to her: 'Lie down, Mrs. Lowry'--she'd been up +two nights already--but she says--I'll never forget just the way she +said it--she says: 'Mary, I helped little Charlie to come into the +world, and if it so be that he's goin' to leave it, who's got a +better right than me to' be with him?'" + +The shade of the elm-trees was getting smaller and smaller as the sun +rose higher, and some of the old-timers were sitting in the sun +before they noticed it, so interested were they in Mr. Slater's story +of the surveying party that crossed the Assiniboine that fateful +night in November, '79, when only five out of the eight got over. + +Then the women announced, by beating on a dishpan, that dinner was +ready, and every tree and bush gave answer--it was the old miracle of +Roderick Dhu's men rising from copse and heath and cairn. Gray-haired +men came running like boys, catching at each other's coat-tails, +tripping each other, laughing, care-free, for it was Pioneers' Picnic +day, and that is the one day when gladness and good-fellowship have +full play, and cares and years with their bitter memories of hail and +frost fall from them like a garment. Hungry little boys fell down out +of trees, asking where was the pie! Little girls in fluffy skirts +stood shyly around until some motherly soul ushered them down the +line where she said there was plenty of room and lots of good eating. + +Demure young ladies, assisted by young fellows in white aprons, +poured tea and coffee from huge white pitchers, making frequent +journeys to the stove over among the trees, and sometimes forgetting +to come back until some one had to go for them! + +There were roast chicken and boiled ham set in beds of crispest +lettuce and parsley. There were moulds of chicken jelly with sprigs +of young celery stuck in the top. There were infinite varieties of +salads and jellies and pickles; there were platters full of +strawberry tarts, made from last year's wild strawberries, which had +been kept for this very occasion; there were apple pies covered with +a thick mat of scalded cream. There was Mrs. Motherwell's half-hour +cake, which tradition said had to be beaten for that length of +time "all the one way"; there were layer cake, fig cake, rolled +jelly cake, election cake, cookies with a hole, cookies with a +raisin instead of a hole; there were dough nuts, Spanish bun and +ginger-bread. No wonder that every one ate until they were able to +eat no more. + +Pearl helped to wait on the others. Danny did not say a word, but +just laid about him. At last he called Pearl to him, and, in a +muffled whisper, asked: "What is there now that I haven't had?" Pearl +then knew that he was approaching the high-water mark. + +* * * + +Having overruled Martha's objections to mingling with her fellow-men +at picnics, and having persuaded her to come and see for herself if +picnics were not a good thing, Pearl felt responsible for her +enjoyment of it. + +Pearl had some anxious thoughts on the subject of a proper dress for +Martha for the picnic, when she found that her best summer dress was +a black muslin, which to Pearl seemed fit only for a funeral. + +She wondered how to bring forward the subject without appearing rude, +when Martha saved her from all further anxiety one day by coming over +to ask her to help her to pick out a dress from the samples she had +sent for. The magazine had begun to bear fruit. + +They decided on a white muslin with a navy blue silk dot in it, and +then Pearl suggested a blue ribbon girdle with long ends, a hat like +Camilla's, a blue silk parasol, and long blue silk gloves. + +When Pearl saw Martha the day of the picnic, it just seemed too good +to be true that Martha could look so nice. She had braided her hair +the night before and made it all fluffy and wavy, and under the broad +brim of her blue hat it didn't look the colour of last year's hay at +all, Pearl thought. Martha herself seemed to feel less constrained +and awkward than she ever did before. Mrs. Francis would have called +it the "leaven of good clothes." + +Pearl was wondering what she was going to do with Martha, now that +she had got her there, when she saw Arthur Wemyss, the young +Englishman. + +She took him aside and said: "Arthur, you are the very fellow I want +to see. I've got Martha Perkins with me to-day, and she's pretty shy, +you know--never been to any of these picnics before--and I'm so busy +looking after all our young lads that I haven't time to go around +with her. Now, I wonder if you would take her around and be nice to +her. Martha's just a fine girl and young, too, if she only knew it, +and she should be having a good time at picnics." + +Arthur expressed his willingness to be useful. He would be glad, he +said, to do his best to give Miss Martha a pleasant time. + +And so it came about that Arthur, in his courteous way, escorted +Martha through the throng of picnickers, found a seat for her at the +table, and waited on her with that deference that seems to come so +easy to the well-bred young Englishman. + +Arthur was an open-hearted young fellow, and finding Martha very +sympathetic, told her about his plans. Thursa was coming from England +in December to marry him, and he was going to have a house put up +just as soon as the harvest was over. His father had sent him the +money, and so he was not depending entirely on the harvest. He showed +her the plan of the house and consulted her on the best position for +the cellar door and the best sort of cistern. He showed her a new +photo of Thursa that he had just received. She was a fluffy-haired +little thing in a much befrilled dress, holding a fan coquettishly +behind her head. Martha noticed how fondly he looked at it, and for a +moment a shivering sense of disappointment smote her heart. But she +resolutely put it from her and feasted her eyes on the lovelight in +his, even though she knew it was the face of another woman that had +kindled it. + +Arthur was a wholesome-looking young man, with a beaming face of +unaffected good-humour, and to Martha it seemed the greatest +happiness just to be near him and hear his voice. She tried to forget +everything save that he was here beside her, for this one dear sweet +afternoon. + +When the thought of Thursa's coming would intrude on her, or the +bitterer thought still that she was only a plain, sunburnt, country +girl, with rough hands and uncouth ways, she forced them away from +her, even as you and I lie down again, and try to gather up the +ravelled threads of a sweet dream, knowing well that it is only a +dream and that waking time is drawing near, but holding it close to +our hearts as long as we can. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +THE LACROSSE MATCH + + + What's come of old Bill Lindsay and the + Saxhorn fellers, say? + I want to hear the old band play. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +THE great event of the Pioneers' Picnic was the lacrosse match +between Millford and Hillsboro. It was held at three o'clock in the +afternoon, and everybody was there. + +The Millford lacrosse boys were in serious financial difficulty-- +"everything gone but their honour," as one sentimental member had put +it, and if the columns of the Hillsboro Gazette were to be trusted, +that was gone, too. But in the big game on this occasion they hoped +to retrieve their fallen fortunes. + +Everybody felt that the real business of the day had begun when the +two lacrosse teams drew up on the field. The women had finished their +clearing up after dinner, and piled rhubarb leaves on their baskets +to keep the eatables cool for supper. + +Bud Perkins and Teddy Watson were playing for Millford, and Mrs. +Perkins, Mrs. Watson, and Aunt Kate were in a pleasurable state of +excitement, though they told the other women over and over that +lacrosse was a dangerous game, and they did not want the boys to +play. Mrs. Breen, too, whose son Billy was Millford's trusty forward, +experienced a thrill of motherly pride when she heard the crowd +breaking into cheers as the Millford boys in their orange and black +jerseys lined up on the field. + +Pearl had gathered up her four brothers after dinner and washed them +clean at the river, also made repairs on their drooping stockings and +twisted collars, and, holding tight to Danny, marshalled them across +the end of the field to where Arthur and Martha sat with Jim and +Camilla, and Tom Motherwell and Nellie Slater. + +Dr. Clay came driving around the end of the field. When he saw Pearl +he stopped and asked her if she would come and sit in his buggy to +watch the game. + +"I can't leave the boys, thank you, doctor," she said; "there's been +three of them lost since noon, and they've all got their good clothes +on." + +"Well, of course, we'll have to keep track of them, in that case," he +said, smiling, "because it would be a real loss to lose them, clothes +and all. I tell you what we'll do, Pearl. I'll give you the horse and +buggy--pile them all in, and it will be the easiest way of minding +them." + +The doctor drove to a clear space where the boys would have a good +view of the game, and then went away to get a bag of peanuts for +them. + +In the centre of the field the referee placed the ball between Bud +Perkins's stick and McLaren's, of Hillsboro. There was a moment of +intense excitement and then away went the ball toward Hillsboro's +goal, half a dozen in pursuit. The whole field was alive with black +and orange, blue and white, legs and arms and sticks darting in and +out in a way that would make your eyes ache to follow them. Once the +ball came to the side, causing a receding wave of fluttering muslin. +Mrs. Maxwell, whose son had that shade of hair which is supposed to +indicate a hasty temper, was shouting directions to him as loudly as +she could. Mrs. Maxwell's directions were good ones, too, if Alec +could only have followed them. "Shoot, Alec!" she called. "Shoot it +in! Run, Alec! Shoot it in!" + +Millford's only lawyer, the dignified and stately Mr. Hawkins, came +majestically down the line, carrying a camp stool under his arm. He +had found it necessary to change his position, incensed at the +undignified behaviour of the Hillsboro girls, who had taken up their +position on one side of the field and were taking a lively interest +in the game. He had ventured a slight rebuke, whereupon the whole +battery of their indignation had been trained on him, with the result +that he withdrew hastily. He sat down just in front of Mrs. Perkins +and Mrs. Watson, and began to take an interest in the game. The ball +was near Millford's goal and a scrimmage was taking place, a solid +knot of players that moved and writhed and twisted. + +Suddenly Bud Perkins shot out from the others, carrying his stick +high above his head as he, raced up the field. "Bud! Bud! Bud!" +Millford cried in an ecstasy of hope and fear. He sprang, dodged, +whirled, the whole field in pursuit, and then, when in line with +Hillsboro's goal, he shot low and swift and sure! + +A great cheer burst from the crowd, hats were thrown in the air, +little boys turned handsprings, and Millford went stark, staring mad. + +Mrs. Perkins was not naturally an excitable woman, and she looked the +very soul of meekness in her respectable black dress and little black +bonnet tied tightly under her chin, but if your only boy--the only +living out of three--your boy that had been real delicate and hard to +raise--if he had dodged the whole field and shot a goal, straight as +a die, and the whole town were cheering for him, mad with joy, you +might have been roused a bit, too. When Mrs. Perkins came to herself +she was pounding her parasol on the broad, dignified shoulders of +Millford's most stately citizen, Mr. E. Cuthbert Hawkins, who moved +away rather haughtily. + +Over near the lemonade booth, Bud's father was explaining to an +interested group just how Bud came to be such a smart boy. + +"Young Bud has never worked the way his dad did," he said. "I ain't +like some men that rob the cradle for farm hands and puts little lads +building roads when they are so small they have to be weighted down +with stones in their pockets to keep them from blowin' away. Young +Bud has run in the pasture all his life, you may say, and it would be +queer if he hadn't some speed in him. He comes of pretty good stock, +let me tell you, registered in every strain, if I do say it. Look at +that for a well-rounded leg!" Mr. Perkins made it easy for every one +to do so. "Eighteen inches around the calf, and tapered to the toe!" +He patted it lovingly. "I tell you, there was action there a few +years ago!" + +Meanwhile the play went on faster than ever. Hillsboro scored a goal +through the Millford goal-keeper's stick breaking, and the score +stood one to one until within fifteen minutes of the time. The +Millford boys were plainly nervous. Victory meant the district +championship, and confusion to their enemies. + +The game was close and hard--no long throws--every inch contested--it +had ceased to be a game, it was a battle! One minute the ball went +close to Millford's goal and Mrs. Watson and Mrs. Perkins clutched +each other's hands in wordless dread; but the wiry form of Teddy +Watson shot up in the air and the ball bounced back into the Millford +captain's stick. As he ran along the edge of the crowd with it, one +of the Hillsboro girls slashed at him viciously with her red parasol. +The captain passed the ball safely to Alec Maxwell, whose red hair +made him a shining mark for the Hillsboro girls. But Sandy was not a +bit disconcerted by their remarks. Big Dave Hunter, his check, was +after him. Big Dave was a powerfully built fellow with a chest like a +Clyde and a cheerful expanse of freckles. As Alec Maxwell threw the +ball to Bud Perkins, Big Dave's long reach intercepted it, and then +he made one of those grand rushes for which he was known and dreaded +by his opponents, and which are still remembered by the old boys who +played the game. This time Dave's good old trick miscarried, for +Teddy Watson, slender as he was, neatly body-checked him--the ball +fell from his stick into that of Alec Maxwell, who, boring his way +through the Hillsboro defence, shot on goal and scored. + +The home crowd went wild with cheers, for time was up, and the score +stood two to one in Millford's favour. Thomas Perkins was hilarious. +"Come on, John!" he said to John Watson, "let's have a little +Schlitz. I never take anything stronger now, since the boy grew up. +What! You don't drink Schlitz? It's harmless as hay-tea, but perhaps +you're right." + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE END OF THE GAME + + + Oh, Thou who hast lighted the sun, + Oh, Thou who hast darkened the tare, + Judge Thou + The sin of the Stone that was hurled + By the Goat from the light of the sun + As she sinks in 'the mire of the tarn. + + _----Kipling._ + + +WHEN Pearl got her four lively young charges settled down she had +time to look about her. Up and down the line of spectators her eye +searched for Libby Anne and Mrs. Cavers, but they were nowhere to be +seen, and Pearl became more and more troubled. + +"I'd like fine to see that faded old raincoat of hers," she said to +herself, "and Lib's little muslin hat"; but every raincoat that Pearl +saw was new and fresh, and every muslin hat had a bright and happy +little face under it, instead of Libby Anne's pale cheeks and sad, +big eyes. + +Dr. Clay came over with a bag of popcorn for them, and Pearl told him +the cause of her worry. + +"They had their dinner all right," she said in a low voice to the +doctor, as he leaned over the wheel. "Bill was fine, and do you know, +he is real nice when he's sober? I waited on them, and Mrs. Cavers +seemed so happy; it pretty near made my heart stop beatin' every time +I thought of it, and how nice it would be if he'd keep straight. +Libby Anne had two licorice kittens and a package of gum saved up in +a bag; she said she wouldn't eat them to-day, for she was havin' a +good enough time when she could see her mother enjoyin' herself so +well. Lib is only ten years old, but she knows as much as some +grown-up people. The last I saw of them they were going up to Mrs. +Burrell's to fix up a little before they had the photo taken. I +think I'll go and see about them, Doctor; I can't enjoy myself for +wonderin' if they're all right. + +"I'll go with you," the doctor said, calling Jimmy Watson to come and +hold the horse and look after the boys. + +Down the almost deserted street the doctor and Pearl went, looking +for any member of the Cavers family. Flags hung motionless in the +bright sunshine. The trees that formed the arch over the road were +beginning to droop in the heat of the afternoon. + +The photographer's tent was the first place they went to. A young +lady and gentleman were posing for a photo, the young lady all gone +to blushes and the young man very gorgeous in tan boots and a red +tie. + +Pearl did the talking. + +"Did you take a photo of Mr. and Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne?" + +"What are they like?" the photographer asked. + +"She is a little woman, pale and tried-looking; looks as if she sat +up a lot at night," Pearl answered. + +"I know who you mean, then," he said. "She has been up here with her +little girl looking for some one, but I do not know where she went +from here." + +Pearl's heart sank. "He's broke his word!" she said angrily, when +they were on the street. "He promised me he would not give Bill any +liquor until he got his picture taken, anyway." Pearl's eyes were +throwing off rings of fire. + +"Who promised?" the doctor asked. + +"Sandy Braden. I told him all about the photos when we went there +this morning with the onions and other stuff, and he seemed real nice +about it; but it doesn't look as if he meant it." + +"I don't know, Pearl. Sandy Braden is not a bad fellow. He wouldn't +go back on his word. I'm sure of that. You go up to Mrs. Burrell's +and I'll go down to the hotel and see if, they know anything about +Bill." + +The bar-room was full. Even the lacrosse game was not a strong enough +attraction to draw away all the crowd; the products of Walker and +Seagram still held their own. + +Bob Steele, the bartender, was telling about Bill Cavers going to +have his photo taken. + +"They got around Sandy easy," he was saying; "but that's one thing I +won't let any one interfere with. As long as I've been selling liquor +I've never refused to sell to any man. I refuse no one. Every man has +a perfect right to whatever he wants to eat or drink--I claim that +for myself, and I hold that no one has a right to interfere with +another man's liberty." + +The crowd in the bar-room gave maudlin approval. + +"And so you just bet Bill Cavers got all he wanted. He came in here +soon after dinner, and the first man that asked him to drink got +turned down. Think of Bill Cavers refusin' good liquor! But when he +heard it bubblin' in the glass his knee just wobbled--that's the +beauty of sellin' our goods, it advertises itself, and works nights +and Sundays. I says: 'What'll you have, Bill?' and he said--Bill's an +honest fellow--he said: 'I've no money, Bob.' But I says: 'That makes +no difference, your credit is good here--you've always paid--and so +name yer drink, Bill,' and I poured out a glass of Three Swallows; +and you bet by the time Bill was ready to quit he would sure look +well in a picture. I was takin' a risk of losin' money, too. Bill's +honest enough, but there's a strong chance that there'll be judgment +against his stuff this fall. But I've always said a man has a right +to all the liquor he wants, and I'm prepared to stand by it even if I +drop money on it. It may be foolish"--looking around for applause, +but his audience were not in the mental condition to discuss fine +ethical points--"but I'm prepared to do it." + +Dr. Clay, standing on the outer edge of the crowd, heard all this. He +made his way to the bar. "Where is Bill Cavers, now?" he asked. + +The gleam in the doctor's eyes should have warned the bartender to be +discreet in his answers. "Well, I can't just say," he answered with +mock politeness, resenting the tone of the doctor's question. "He +didn't leave word with me, but I guess he's getting his photo taken." + +"Did you set him drunk and then turn him out in this blazing sun?" +the doctor asked, in a voice so tense with anger that the audience, +befuddled as they were, drew closer to see what it was all about. + +"We never keep people longer than is necessary," the bartender +said, with an evil smile, "and besides, Bill was due at the +photographer's." + +Before the doctor knew what he was doing his right arm flew out and +landed a smashing blow on the bartender's smirking face, a blow that +sent him crashing into the bottles behind him. He recovered in an +instant, and the doctor's quick eye caught the flash of a knife in +his hand as he came over the bar at him. With a swift blow the doctor +knocked the knife from his hand, and, grasping him by the coat +collar, he dragged him to the back door, and then, raising him on the +toe of his boot, landed him in the middle of the mud-puddle that had +been left by the morning's rain. + +The bartender was just gathering himself up when Sandy Braden drove +up to the stable door with his pacer. + +Meanwhile Pearl had continued the search for Mrs. Cavers and Libby +Anne. She was on her way to Mrs. Burrell's when she caught sight of +something like a parasol down in the trees where the horses were +tied. She ran down to the picnic grounds hastily, and there, in a +grassy hollow, shaded by a big elm, she found the objects of her +search. + +Bill Cavers, with purple face and wide open mouth, lay breathing +heavily. Libby Anne was fanning him with her muslin hat, and Mrs. +Cavers was tenderly bathing his swollen face with water Libby Anne +had brought from the river. Her own eyes were red with crying and +hopeless with defeat. + +"We've just found him, Pearl," she said. "He's been here in the hot +sun I don't know how long. I never saw him breathing so queer +before." + +"I'll get the doctor," said Pearl. + +She ran back up the road and found the doctor talking to Sandy +Braden, at the stable behind the hotel. + +"Come on, Doctor!" Pearl cried breathlessly. "I found them. You come, +too"--to, Mr. Braden--"it will take you both to carry him." + +Sandy Braden hesitated, but there was something in Pearl's compelling +eyes that made him follow her. + +They reached the grassy slope. Mrs. Cavers had made a pillow of her +coat for his head, and was still bathing his face. The doctor hastily +loosened the drunken man's clothing and listened to the beating of +his heart. Its irregular pounding was unmistakable, it was making its +last great fight. + +Dr. Clay took out his hypodermic syringe and made an injection in +Bill's arm. Bill stirred uneasily. "I don't--want--it--Bob," he said +thickly. "I promised--the--missus. She's--with me--to-day." + +Sandy Braden endeavoured to quiet Mrs. Cavers's fears. + +"It's the heat, Mrs. Cavers," he said; "but it'll soon wear +off--he'll be all right soon, won't he, Doc?" + +The doctor made no reply, but listened again to the sick man's heart. +It was failing. + +Mrs. Cavers, looking up, read the doctor's face. + +She fell on the ground beside her husband, calling him every tender +name as she rained kisses on his livid cheeks, uttering queer little +cries like a wounded animal, but begging him always to live for her +sake, and crying out bitterly that she could not give him up. + +Sandy Braden, who had often seen men paralyzed with liquor, gently +tried to take her away, assuring, her again that he would be all +right soon. She noticed then for the first time who it was who had +come with the doctor, and shaking off his hand, she sprang up and +faced him, with blazing eyes that scorched into his very soul. + +Sandy Braden put up his hand as if to ward off her fury. + +Bill moved his lips, and she knelt beside him once more, her thin +gray hair falling over her shoulders. The sick man gazed into her +face, and a look of understanding came into his bloodshot eyes. + +"Ellie," he said with great effort, "I--did--not--want--it--at +first," and with his eyes still looking into hers, as if mutely +pleading with her to understand, the light faded from them ... and +the last long, staggering breath went out. Then fell silence ... that +never-ending silence ... and quite perceptibly the colour went in +patches from his face. Dr. Clay gently touched Mrs. Cavers's arm. +"Yes, Doctor, I know ... he's dead." She talked like people do in +their sleep. + +"I did my best, Will," she said, as she smoothed his thick black +hair. "I tried my hardest to save you, and I always thought I would +win ... but they've beat me, Will. They were too strong for me ... +and I'm sorry!" She bent down and tenderly kissed his forehead, damp +now with the dews of death. + +There was not a leaf stirring on the trees. Every bird in the valley +was still. Only the gentle lapping of the Souris over the fallen tree +in the current below them came to their ears. + +Sandy Braden's face was as white as his shirt-bosom as he stood +looking at Bill's quiet face. + +A cheer from the lacrosse grounds came like a voice from another +world; the world of life and pleasure and action. + +Mrs. Cavers, roused at the sound, stood up and addressed the +hotel-keeper. + +"Excuse me, Mr. Braden," she said, "I was almost forgetting. Mr. +Cavers, I know had not enough with him to pay for ... all this." She +motioned toward Bill's dead face. "This ... must have cost a lot." +She handed him some silver. "It is all I have with me to-day ... I +hope it is enough. I know Mr. Cavers would not like to leave a debt +... like this." + +Mechanically Sandy Braden took the money, then dropping it as if it +burned him, he turned away and went slowly up the road that he had +come, reeling unsteadily. A three-seated democrat, filled with +drunken men, was just driving away from his stable. They were a crowd +from Howard, who had been drinking heavily at his bar all the +afternoon. They drove away,--madly lashing their horses into a +gallop. + +Sandy Braden hid in a clump of poplars until they got past him. +Looking back toward the river he could see Mrs. Cavers kneeling +beside her husband, and even at that distance he fancied he could see +Bill's dead face looking into hers, and begging her to understand. +Just as the democrat passed pants burst into maudlin song: + + "Who's the best man in this town? + Sandy Braden, Sandy Braden. + Who's the best man in this town? + Sandy Braden, Sandy Braden." + +And then it was that Sandy Braden fell prone upon the ground and +buried his face in the cool, green grass, crying: "God be merciful to +me, a sinner!" + +* * * + +When the victorious lacrosse team came down the street, they were +followed by a madly cheering throng. They went straight to the hotel, +where, by the courtesy of the proprietor, they had always been given +rooms in which to dress. + +Bob Steele met them at the office door, all smiles and +congratulations, in spite of a badly blackened eye. + +"Come on in, boys!" he called. "It's my treat. Walk right in." + +Most of the boys needed no second invitation. Bud Perkins hesitated. +His father was just behind him. "Take a little Schlitz, Buddie. That +won't hurt you," he said. + +Bud went in with the others. Every one was in the gayest humour. The +bartender called in the porter to help him to serve the crowd. The +glasses were being filled when a sudden hush fell on the bar-room, +for Sandy Braden, with a face as ghastly as the one he had just left +on the river-bank, came in the back door. + +He raised his hand with a gesture of authority. "Don't drink it, +boys!" he said. "It has killed one man to-day. Don't touch it." + +Even the bartender turned pale, and there was a moment of intense +silence. Just then some one rushed in and shouted the news of Bill +Cavers's death. The crowd fell away until Sandy Braden and the +bartender were left face to face. + +"How much have you in the business here, Bob?" he asked in a +perfectly controlled voice. + +The bartender told him. + +He took a cheque-book from his pocket and hastily made out a cheque. + +"Now, go," he said, as he gave it to him. "I will not be needing a +man in here any more." + +He took the keys from his pocket and locked the back door. Then +coming out into the office, where there were a few stragglers +lounging in the chairs, he carefully locked the door leading into the +bar. + +"I'm done, boys," he said shortly. "I've quit the business." + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +ON THE QUIET HILLSIDE + + + They shall go out no more, oh ye, + Who speak earth's farewell thro' your tears, + Who see your cherished ones go forth + And come not back, thro' weary years. + There is a place-there is a shore + From which they shall go out no more. + + _----Kate Tucker Goode._ + +WHEN sympathetic neighbours came to stay with Mrs. Cavers that night, +and "sit up" with the dead man, she gently refused their kind offer. +"It is kind of you, dear friends," she said, "but I would rather stay +alone to-night. It is the last thing I can do for him, and I shall +not be lonely. I've sat here plenty of nights waiting for him, not +knowing how he would come home--often afraid he would be frozen to +death or kicked by the horses--but to-night he is safe from all that, +and I am not worrying about him at all. I've got him all to myself, +now, and I want to sit here with him, just him and me. Take Libby +Anne with you, Martha. I am thinking of a sweet verse that seems to +suit me now: 'They shall go out no more.' That's my comfort now; he +is safe from so many things." + +The next day was the funeral, a cloudless day of glittering sunshine +and bright blue sky. The neighbours came for miles; for Bill's death +and the closing of the bar had made a profound impression. + +"I wonder will Sandy Braden come," Thomas Perkins said, as he tied +his horse to a seeder in the yard. "Bill was a good customer of his, +and I wouldn't be surprised if Sandy came." + +"You're a good guesser, Thomas," another man said, "for here he +comes." + +"Sandy'll open up again, I think," said George Steadman, "in a few +days, when he gets over this a little. He's foolish if he doesn't, +with the busy time just startin', and money beginnin' to move." + +"Well, I don't know," said Sam Motherwell. "From what I hear, Sandy +says he's got his medicine, and won't take chances on getting any +more. It'll be a good thing for the town if he has closed for keeps. +Sandy has made thousands of dollars over his bar." + +"Well," George Steadman said; in his most generous tone, "I don't +begrudge it to him. Sandy's a decent fellow, and he certainly never +made it out of me or mine. He's a fool if he closes up now, but if he +does, some one else will open up. I believe a bar is a help to the +town all right!" + +"It hasn't been much of a help here," Thomas Perkins said, waving his +hand at the untidy barnyard. + +"Oh, well, this is an exception. There's always some man like Bill +that don't know when to quit. This business here is pretty rough on +me, though," Mr. Steadman said, in a truly grieved tone; "losin' my +tenant just before harvest; but I blame nobody but Bill himself. He +hasn't used me square, you all know that." + +"Stop, George, stop!" The broad Scotch of Roderick Ray's voice had +not been heard before in the conversation. "Hoo hae we used Bill? He +was aye fond o' it an' aye drank it to his hurt an' couldna stop. +What hae we done to help him? Dye think it fair to leave a trap-door +open for a child to fall doon? An' if ye found him greetin' at the +bottom, wad ye no tak him up an' shut the door? Puir Bill, we found +him greetin' an' bruised an' sore mony times, but nane o' us had the +humanity to try to shut the door until he fell once too often, an' +could rise na more, an' now Sandy himsel' has shamed us a', an' I +tell ye, he'll no open it again, for he has better bluid in him nor +that; and our sins will lie upon our own heads if we ever let yon +death-trap be opened again!" + +Just then Sandy Braden, wearing a black suit, drove into the yard and +tied up his horse. + +* * * + +The little house was filled to overflowing with women; the men stood +bareheaded around the door. Mrs. Cavers sat beside the coffin with an +arm around Libby Anne. Mrs. Steadman, with the cerise roses still +nodding in her hat, said on the way home that it did seem queer to +her that Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne did not shed a tear. Mrs. +Steadman did not understand that there is a limit even to tears and +that Libby Anne in her short years had seen sadder sights than even +this. + +The Reverend John Burrell conducted the funeral. + +"Shall we gather at the river?" he gave out as the first hymn. Some +sang it falteringly; they had their own ideas of Bill's chances in +the next world, and did not consider the "river" just the proper +figure of speech to describe it. + +The minister then read that old story of the poor man who went down +to Jericho and fell among thieves. Mr. Burrell's long experience with +men had made him a plain and pointed speaker, and given him that rare +gift, convincing earnestness. Now he laid his hand on the coffin and +spoke in a clear, ringing voice, that carried easily to every person +in the house and to those who stood around the door. + +"Here is a man who is a victim of our laws," he said, in beginning. +"This is not an exceptional case. Men are being ruthlessly murdered +every day from the same cause; this is not the only home that it has +darkened. It is going on all over this land and all the time because +we are willing, for the sake of a few dollars' revenue, to allow one +man to grow rich on the failings of others. We know the consequences +of this; we know that men will be killed, body and soul, that women +will go broken-hearted, that little children will be cheated of +their childhood. This scene to-day--the dead man in his coffin, the +sad-faced wife and child, the open grave on the hillside--is a part +of the Traffic. They belong to the business just as much as the +sparkling decanters and the sign above the door. Every one of you, +no doubt, has foretold this day. I wonder have you done anything to +prevent it? Let none of us presume to judge the brother who has gone. +I would rather take my chances before the judgment-seat of God with +him, the victim, who has paid for his folly with his life, than with +any one of you who have made this thing possible. 'Ye who are strong +ought to bear the infirmity of the weak.' I do not know how it will +be with this man when he comes to give an account of himself to God, +but I do know that God is a loving, tender Father, who deals justly +and loves mercy, and in that thought to-day we rest and hope. Let us +pray." + +"Impress this scene on our heart, to-day, dear Lord," he prayed; +"this man cut down in his prime; this woman old with sorrow, not with +years; this child, cheated of her father's love. Let us ask ourselves +how long will we sit idly by, not caring. And oh, God, we pray Thee +to bless the one man who, among us all, has said that as far as he is +responsible this traffic shall cease; bless him abundantly, and may +his troubled heart find peace. May he never forget that there is a +fountain where all sin and uncleanness may be washed away. Remind our +hearts this day of how He died to save us from the sins of +selfishness and greed, and ever lives to cheer and guide us. Let us +hear the call that comes to us to-day to do a man's part in +protecting the weak, the helpless, and the young. Let the love of +this woman for her husband call to our remembrance Thy unchanging +love for us, and if it be in keeping with Thy divine laws, may the +precious coin of her unfaltering devotion purchase for him a holding +in the heavenly country. For the sake of Thy dear Son we ask it." + +The funeral went slowly along the well-beaten road that skirts the +sand-hills of the Assiniboine, and crawled like a long black snake +through the winding valley of Oak Creek, whose banks were hanging +with wild roses and columbine, while down in the shady aisles of the +creek bed, under the stunted oak that gives it its name, pink and +yellow lady's slippers gave out their honeyed fragrance. + +"It is hard to die and leave all this behind," Thomas Perkins said; +looking down the valley, where the breezes rippled the leaves. "I +always think it must be hard to snuff out in June or July and have to +pass out without knowin' how the crop'll turn out; but I guess now, +from what I've heard, when the clock strikes quittin'time, a fellow +won't be worryin' about the crops." + +On the quiet hill, dotted with spruce, that looks down on the Souris, +they laid Bill Cavers away. Very gently the coffin was lowered into +its sandy bed as the minister read the beautiful words of the burial +service and the neighbours and friends stood silent in the presence, +the majestic presence of Death. Just before the sand was filled in, +Ellen Cavers, tearless still, kissed the roses she held in her hand +and dropped them gently on the coffin. + +One by one the neighbours walked away, untied their horses, and drove +slowly down the hill, until Libby Anne and her mother were left +alone. Bud and Martha were waiting at the gate for them. Mrs. Cavers, +looking up, noticed that one man stood with bowed head near the gate. +It was Sandy Braden, his face white and full of sadness. + +Mrs. Cavers walked over to where he stood and held out her hand. "Mr. +Braden," she said, looking at him with a glimmer of tears in her +gentle eyes. + +He took her hand, so cruelly seamed and workworn; his was white and +plump and well-kept. He tried to speak, but no words came. + +Looking up she read his face with a woman's quick understanding. "I +know," she said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +FROZEN WHEAT + + + For them 'at's here in airliest infant stages, + It's a hard world; + For them 'at gets the knocks of boyhood's ages, + It's a mean world; + For them 'at nothin's good enough they're gittin', + It's a bad world; + For them 'at learns at last what's right and fittin', + It's a good world. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + +THE summer was over, and the harvest, a great, bountiful harvest, was +gathered in. The industrious hum of the threshing-machine was heard +from many quarters, and the roads were dotted thick with teams +bringing in the grain to the elevators. + +In the quiet field on the hillside, where the spruce trees, straight +and stiff, stand like faithful sentinels, the grass that had grown +over Bill Cavers's grave was now sere and gray; only the hardy +pansies were green still and gay with blossoms, mute emblems of the +love that never faileth. + +Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne were still living on the rented farm. +After Bill's death the neighbours, with true Western generosity, had +agreed among themselves to harvest the crop for her. The season had +been so favourable that her share of the crop would be a considerable +amount. + +It was a typical autumn day in middle September. The golden and +purple flowers of the fall bespangled the roadside--wild sunflowers, +brown-centred gaillardia, wild sage, and goldenrod. The bright blue +of the cloudless sky set off the rich tints of autumn. The stubble +fields still bore the golden-yellow tinge of the harvest, and +although the maple leaves were fast disappearing before the lusty +winds of autumn, the poplars, yellow and rust-coloured, still +flickered gaily, the wild rosehaws and frost-touched milkweed still +gave a dash of colour to the shrubbery on the river-bank. + +There had been an early frost that fall, which had caught the late +wheat, and now the grain which was brought into the elevators had to +be closely graded. The temptation to "plug" the wheat was strong, and +so much of it was being done that the elevator men were suspicious of +every one. + +Young Tom Steadman was weighing wheat in the Farmers' Elevator while +the busy time was on, and although there was no outward hostility +between him and Bud Perkins, still his was too small a nature to +forget the thrashing that Bud had given him at the school two years +ago, and, according to Tom's code of ethics, it would be a very fine +way to get even if he could catch Bud selling "plugged" wheat. + +The first load that Bud brought in Tom asked him if he had plugged +it. Bud replied quite hotly that he had not. + +"I suppose," said Tom, "you stopped all that since you joined the +Church." + +Bud's face flushed, but he controlled his temper and answered: "Yes, +that's what stopped me, and I'm not ashamed to say so." + +The manager of the elevator, who was present, looked at him in +surprise. "Were you ever caught?" he asked. + +"No," said Bud; "I was not." + +"Well, then, you're a fool to ever admit that you did it," he said +severely. + +"I can't help that," Bud said. "I am not going to lie about it." + +"Well, it makes people suspicious of you to know you ever did it, +that's all," Mr. Johnston said. + +"You are welcome to watch me. I am not asking you to take my word for +it," Bud replied. + +"You're a queer lad," said the elevator man. + +Bud's wheat was closely examined, and found to be of uniform quality. + +The wheat went up to the dollar mark and Thomas Perkins decided to +rush his in to the elevator at once. He stayed at home himself and +filled the bags while Bud did the marketing. + +All went well for a week. Contrary to his own words about being +suspicious of Bud, the elevator "boss" was, in his own mind, +confident of the boy's honesty. + +One day, just as Bud's second last bag was thrown in, young Steadman +gave a cry of delight, and picked out a handful. Number II Northern +was the grading that Bud had been getting all the week. Young +Steadman showed it triumphantly to the elevator "boss" who examined +it closely. _It was frozen wheat!_ + +Bud was gathering up his bags when the elevator man called him over. + +"Look at that," he said, holding the wheat before him. + +Bud looked at it incredulously. "That's not mine," he said. + +Young Steadman's eyes were on him exultingly. He had got even at +last, he thought. + +"We'll have to see about this, Bud," the elevator man said sternly. + +The other bag was emptied, and Bud saw with his own eyes that the +middle of the bag was filled with frozen wheat! He turned dizzy with +shame and rage. The machinery in the elevator with its deafening, +thump-thump-thump, seemed to be beating into his brain. He leaned +against the wall, pale and trembling. + +The same instinct which prompted Tom Steadman when he hit Libby Anne +Cavers prompted him now. "I thought you said you wouldn't do such a +thing since you joined the Church," he said, with an expression of +shocked virtue. + +Bud's cup of bitterness was overflowing, and at first he did not +notice what had been said. + +Tom took his silence to mean that he might with safety say more. "I +guess you're not as honest as you'd like to have people think, and +joinin' the Church didn't do you so much good after all." + +Bud came to himself with a rush then, and young Tom Steadman went +spinning across the floor with the blood spurting from his nose. + +* * * + +Bud was fined ten dollars for assault, and of course it became known +in a few hours that the cause of the trouble was that Bud had been +caught selling frozen wheat in the middle of his bags. + +Through it all Bud made no word of defence. No one knew how bitter +was the sting of disgrace in the boy's soul or how he suffered. When +he went home that afternoon there was a stormy scene. "I told you I +would not sell 'plugged' wheat," he said to his father, raging with +the memory of it, "and, without letting me know, you put it in and +made me out a thief and a liar." + +The old man moistened his lips. "Say, Buddie," he said, "it was too +bad you hit young Steadman; he's an overgrown slab of a boy, and I +don't mind you lickin' him, but they'll take the 'law' on ye every +time; and ten dollars was a terrible fine. Maybe they'd have let you +off with five if you'd coaxed them." + +"Coax!" said Bud, scornfully. "I wouldn't coax them. What do I care +about the money, anyway? That's not what I'm kicking about." + +"Oh, Buddie, you are a reckless young scamp to let ten dollars go in +one snort, and then say you don't care." + +With an angry exclamation Bud turned away. + +* * * + +The next time Bud went to Millford Mrs. Burrell saw him passing the +house and called him in. She had heard an account of the affair from +the wife of the elevator "boss," and had told it to Mr. Burrell, who +promptly declared he did not believe it, whereupon Mrs. Burrell grew +indignant. Did he doubt Mrs. Johnston's word? + +Mr. Burrell cautioned her not to speak of it to any one, and went out +at once to see Bud. Mr. Burrell had only been gone a few minutes when +Bud himself came driving past the house. Mrs. Burrell told herself +that Providence had put Bud in her way. Mrs. Burrell blamed +Providence for many things quite unjustly. "Come in, Bud," she called +from the door; "I want to see you." + +Bud knew the minister's wife but slightly; he had seen her at the +services in the schoolhouse. He had intended going in to see Mr. +Burrell, for he felt that he must tell some one that he was not +guilty, and he felt that the minister was the one whose opinion he +most valued. So he went in gladly, hoping that Mr. Burrell might be +there. + +"Now, Bud," Mrs. Burrell began, with her severest air, "I am sorry to +say what I have to say, but it's all for your own good, and it really +hurts me to say it." + +"Don't say it then!" burst from the boy's white lips; he was too sore +to stand any more. + +"I must say it, Bud," she went on, as conscientious in her cruelty as +Queen Mary. "You have done very wrong, and you must repent. I could +not sleep a wink last night, thinking of it, and Mr. Burrell did +think so much of, you, too." + +"_Did_ think!" Bud inferred from the heavy emphasis that Mr. +Burrell's regard was all past, and he hid his face so that she might +not see how deeply she had hurt him. + +"But you are young yet, and your life is all before you, and you must +repent and begin all over again. 'While the lamp of life holds out to +burn, the vilest sinner may return.' You must pray for strength, so +you won't be tempted to be dishonest again, and you really should +apologize to young Mr. Steadman. Mrs. Johnston says his face is very +sore." + +Bud looked up quickly and said with flashing eyes: "I'm glad of that. +I wish I had smashed him again--the pup!" + +Then Mrs. Burrell was shocked utterly. "My dear boy," she said, "I am +afraid your heart is very hard and wicked. Mr. Burrell thought you +were soundly converted, too, but you seem to be really rebellious +against God, who is kinder and better than any earthly parent. This +is a matter for earnest and agonizing prayer." + +Bud stood up and looked at her with eyes that flamed with anger. +Unfortunately Bud, like Martha, was entirely lacking in humour; +otherwise his heart would have been saved many a cruel hurt. "I don't +want your prayers," he said, when he could control himself. + +Something in the boy's face touched Mrs. Burrell's heart with pity. +"Perhaps I've been wrong," she said. "I do make mistakes sometimes. I +may have made one now." + +"You certainly have," he said, as he took his hat and left the house. + +Mrs. Burrell watched him going down the path with his long, swinging +stride, and her heart was strangely troubled. She had a conviction +that she had done no good, and perhaps had done a great deal of harm. +"When I try to do good, evil comes of it," she said sorrowfully, and +then she went to her own room and prayed; and it was an earnest and +agonizing prayer, too; though very different from the prayer she had +in mind when she spoke to Bud, for the burden of it all was this, +that God would in some way overrule all her mistakes for good, and +not let the boy suffer because of any word of hers. + +She continued to plead until her heart found peace in the thought +that has comforted so many of us in our sore need, that perhaps when +He sees the faulty, crooked lines we are drawing, the Great Surveyor +will, in His mercy, put in for us, here and there, the correction +lines. + +* * * + +When Bud drove home that night his thoughts were far too bitter for a +boy of eighteen. A sense of injustice was poisoning the fountains of +his heart, and so, when he met Mr. Burrell, he felt he could stand no +more. The whole world was against him now, he thought, and he would +let them see he didn't care. He would never tell any one now about +the wheat. He would never give away his father; but he would leave +Millford right straight, leave it for ever, so when Mr. Burrell drew +in his horse to speak to him, Bud turned his head and drove rapidly +away. Mr. Burrell went home very sad about it all, wondering if Bud +were really guilty, but determined to stand by him just the same. + +When he got home Mrs. Burrell told him about her interview with Bud. +She was thoroughly repentant now, and tearfully declared that she +knew now she had been very unwise. + +Mr. Burrell drove back that night to see Bud, but he was too late, +for Bud had gone. + +* * * + +Arriving at his home, Bud stabled his horses, and then went into the +house. His father was filling bags in the granary, but Bud felt that +he could not bear to see him. He went to his own room and hurriedly +changed his clothes. He had only one thought--to get away--to get +away where no one knew him. In the last few hours the whole world had +changed for him--that Mr. Burrell should so easily believe him guilty +had overflowed his cup of bitterness. + +A red and silver scripture text, in the form of a shield, hung on his +bedroom wall; Martha had given it to him, some time ago, and it had +often brought him comfort and inspiration. + +"He is able to deliver you," it said. + +Bud read it now scornfully, and with a sudden impulse tore it down +and crushed it in his hands. "There's nothing in it," the boy cried +bitterly. + +He went out to the pasture and whistled to his pacing colt, which +came to him at once. The boy laid his head on the colt's velvet neck +and patted it lovingly. + +"I'll come back for you, Bunko," he said. "You're mine, anyway." + +The colt rubbed his head against Bud's arm. + +Across the ravine, where the fringed blue gentian looked up from the +sere grass, the cows were grazing, and Bud, from habit, went for them +and brought them up to the bars. + +The sun was setting when Bud reached the Cavers's house, for he could +not go without saying good-bye to Libby Anne. She was driving their +two cows in from a straw stack, and called gaily to him when she saw +him coming. + +"I've come to say good-bye, Lib," said Bud simply. + +"Where are you going?" she asked. + +"I don't know--anywhere to get away from here." Then he told her what +had happened. + +"I'm glad you took a smash at Tom Steadman," she said, her big eyes +flashing, when he had finished. Then suddenly she began to cry. "I +don't want you to go," she sobbed. "You won't ever come back; I won't +see you ever again." + +"Don't say that, Libby," Bud cried in real distress--she looked so +little and pale in her black dress--"I will come back some time, and +I won't forget my little girl. You're my girl, you know, Lib." + +"I'm your girl all right," the child said unsteadily. "But I want you +to stay. I can't make up things like Pearl and Mary Watson can--I can +do some pretendin' games pretty good now, but I can't pretend about +you--I'll know you're gone all the time, Bud," and she caught her +breath in a quivering sob. + +Then Bud lifted the little girl in his arms and kissed her over and +over again. + +"Don't cry, Libby," he said. "I'm going away to make lots of money, +and you mustn't fret. Every night I want you to say to yourself: 'I'm +Bud's girl, and he won't forget me;' and whenever you get lonely or +downhearted, just say that. Now Libby Anne, tell me who you are." + +"I'm Bud's girl, all right," she answered gravely. + +The sun had gone down in a crimson haze, and a misty tenderness +seemed to brood over the world. The September evening was so full of +peace and beauty with its muffled tinkle of cowbells and the soft +song of the whippoorwill that came at intervals from the maple bush +on Oak Creek, it was hard to believe that there were troubled hearts +anywhere. + +The hoarse whistle of a long freight train on the C. P. R. boomed +harshly through the quiet air. "I must go, Lib," said Bud. + +Libby Anne stood looking after him as he went quickly down the road. +The evening twilight soon hid him from her sight, but she still +looked down the winding road until it dipped down in the valley of +Oak Creek. + +Suddenly from the river-bank came the weird cry of a prairie wolf, +and Libby Anne, turning with a shudder, ran home in the gathering +dusk. + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +AUTUMN DAYS + + There's a wonderful charm in the autumn days, + When Earth to her rest is returning; + When the hills are drowned in a purple haze, + When the wild grape sweetens, and all in a blaze + Of crimson the maples are turning. + + _----Helena Coleman._ + + +WHEN autumn came to the Souris valley and touched the trees with +crimson and gold, it found that some progress had been made on the +farm that was getting its second chance. + +Down on the river flat the hay had been cut and gathered into two +stacks, which stood beside the stable, and the two Watson cows now +fattened on the rich growth of aftergrass. + +The grain, which had been an abundant crop, had been threshed and +drawn at once to the elevator, for there was no place to store it; +but as the price was one dollar a bushel for the best, and seventy +cents for the poorest, John Watson had no cause for complaint. The +stable, which he had built of poles, was now roofed by a straw stack +and was intended for a winter shelter for the two cows. + +In the early spring Pearl had planted a bed of Polly's poppies, and +all summer long they had flamed red and brilliant against the poplar +grove behind the house, which sheltered them from the winds. The +weeds around the buildings were all cut down and the scrub cleaned +out for a garden the next year. In the holidays the boys had fenced +this with peeled poplar poles. + +A corner of the wheat-field before the house had already been used +for a garden, and had been a great source of delight and also of +profit to the family. The boys had complained a little at first about +having to pull mustard and shepherd's purse and french-weed, with +which the farm was infested, but Pearl presented weed-pulling in a +new light. She organized two foraging parties, who made raids upon +the fields and brought back the spoils of war. Patsey was Roderick +Dhu, who had a henchman bold, called Daniel the Redhanded. Bugsey +was Alan-bane, and Tommy was to have been his henchman, Thomas +Trueman, but Tommy had strong ideas about equal rights and would +be Alan-bane's twin brother, Tommy-bane, or nothing. They were +all dark-visaged, eagle-eyed Highlanders, who made raids upon the +Lowlands to avenge ancient wrongs. + +Pearl had learned about the weeds at school, and soon had her whole +family, including Aunt Kate, organized into a weed-fighting brigade. +Even the golden dandelion was ruthlessly cut down, and Mary, who was +strong on experiments, found out that its roots were good to eat. +After that any dandelion that showed its yellow face was simply +inviting destruction. + +In school Pearl was having a very happy time, and she and her teacher +were mutually helpful to each other. Pearl's compositions were Mr. +Donald's delight. There was one that he carried with him and often +found inspiration in to meet the burdens of his own monotonous life. +The subject was "True Greatness," and was suggested by a lesson of +that name in the reader. Needless to say, Pearl's manner of treating +the subject was different from the reading lesson. + +"A person can never get true greatness," she wrote, "by trying for +it. You get it when you're not looking for it. It's nice to have good +clothes--it makes it a lot easier to act decent--but it is a sign of +true greatness to act when you haven't got them just as good as if +you had. One time when Ma was a little girl they had a bird at their +house, called Bill, that broke his leg. They thought they would have +to kill him, but next morning they found him propped up sort of +sideways on his good leg, singing! That was true greatness. One time +there was a woman that had done a big washing and hung it on the +line. The line broke and let it all down in the mud, but she didn't +say a word, only did it over again; and this time she spread it on +the grass, where it couldn't fall. But that night a dog with dirty +feet ran over it. When she saw what was done, she sat down and didn't +cry a bit. All she said was: 'Ain't it queer that he didn't miss +nothing!' That was true greatness, but it's only people who have +done washings that know it! Once there was a woman that lived near a +pig-pen, and when the wind blew that way it was very smelly, indeed; +and at first when she went there to live she couldn't smell anything +but straight pig, but when she lived there a while she learned to +smell the clover blossoms through it. That was true greatness." + +* * * + +Camilla's wedding had been a great event in Pearl's life. It had +taken place early one Wednesday morning in the church at Millford. It +was a pretty wedding, the paper said. The altar of the church was +banked high with wild roses, whose sweet perfume made Pearl think of +school-books--she always kept her books full of rose petals, and to +her it was a real geography smell. + +Mr. Burrell and Mr. Grantley both took part in the ceremony, to show +there was no hard feelings, Pearl thought, for Camilla was a +Presbyterian and Jim was a Methodist. + +Mr. Francis brought Camilla in, and Pearl followed. Jim and the +doctor stood at the altar, while down from the choir-gallery, which +seemed to be overflowing with roses, came the strains of the +wedding-march. Pearl had never heard it before, but it seemed to her +now as if she had always known it, for in it throbbed the very same +joy that was beating in her own heart. It was all over in a minute +and they were coming down the aisle, her hand on the doctor's arm. +The carriage was waiting for them at the door, and they drove back to +the house, everybody talking and laughing and throwing rice. + +When the wedding breakfast was over, and Jim and Camilla had gone on +the train, Pearl and the doctor and Mr. and Mrs. Francis drove back +to the house. Everything was just as they had left it--the flowers +were still on the table, and the big clock in the hall was still +going, though it seemed a long, long time that they had been away. +Mrs. Francis was quite worn out by the efforts of the morning, and +said she must go and rest. Would Pearl box up the wedding cake in the +little white boxes? "It is a severe strain to lose Camilla," she +said, "even for two weeks. Two weeks is fourteen days, and that means +forty-two meals without her." + +"We'll attend to the wedding-cake, and put away the presents and run +things generally," the doctor said. + +In the dining-room Dr. Clay cut up wedding-cake and packed it in +boxes for mailing, while Pearl quickly cleared away the dishes. She +was quite a pretty little girl in her white silk dress. She was tall +and slight, and lithe and graceful in her movements, with pansy-brown +eyes and a smooth, olive skin that neither sun nor wind could +roughen. But the beauty of her face was in the serene expression +which comes only to people whose hearts are brave and sweet and +honest. + +The doctor watched her with a great admiration in his face. "Pearl, +how old are you?" he asked suddenly. + +"I am fifteen," she answered. + +He took one of her shapely little sunburnt hands and held it gently +in his; then with his other hand he took a pearl ring from his pocket +and was about to slip it on her finger, but, suddenly changing his +mind, he laid it in her hand instead. + +Pearl gave an exclamation of delight. + +"It's yours, Pearl," he said. "Put it on." + +She put it on her finger, her eyes sparkling with pleasure. + +"Oh, Doctor Clay!" she said, breathlessly. + +He, smiling, watched her as she held her hand up to look at it. "It +is just a remembrance, dear," he said, "of some one who thinks that +there is no little girl in the world like you." + +When Pearl went home, she gave an account of the wedding to her +family. + +"Gettin' married ain't so much when you get right up to it," she +said. "They had a terrible busy time getting ready for it that +morning. Mrs. Francis was a long way more excited than Camilla, and +broke quite a few dishes, but they were all her own; she didn't get +into any of Camilla's. She set fire to her hair when she was curling +it, but after that she did fine. Camilla looked after everything and +wrote down in a notebook all the things Mrs. Francis is to cook while +she is away. Camilla's a little bit afraid that she'll burn the house +down, but the neighbours are all going to try to see after things for +her. Camilla had her hair done the loveliest I ever saw, all wavy, +but not frizzy. We went to the church and got that done before we +came back to the house to eat. Camilla had a big bunch of roses that +Jim gave her, tied with white satin ribbon, and mind you, they didn't +cut off the ends, that's how free they were with the ribbon. I held +them along with mine while Jim put on the ring--that's mostly an +account of the what I was for--and Jim kissed her right before every +one, and so did Mrs. Francis, and so did I, and that was all until we +came to the house, and then Mrs. Francis kissed her again and did me, +too, when she got started, and kissed Jim, too, and he kissed me, and +we had a great time. The meal was called a breakfast, but say, kids, +there was _eating_ for you! Maybe you think a breakfast is mostly +porridge and toast and the like o' that. Well, now, there wasn't a +sign of porridge--oyster soup came first." + +"Wha's 'at?" Danny asked. The wedding details had reached the place +where Danny's interest began. + +"They're the colour of gray stones, only they're soft, and if you +shut your eyes they're fine, and while you're wondering whether or +not you'll swallow them, they slip down and you begin to look for +another; and then there was little dabs of fried fish laid on a +lettuce leaf, with a sprig of parsley beside it, and a round of +lemon. They took the lemon in their fingers and squeezed it over +their fish. It looked a little mussy to me, but I guess it's manners +all right; and then there was olives on a little glass dish, and +every one took one--they taste like willow bark in spring. Mrs. +Burrell said she just loved them, and et a lot. I think that's +carryin' your manners too far. I et the one I took and thought I did +well. Mr. Burrell asked the blessin', and gave Jim and Camilla lots +of good advice. He said to be sure and get mad one at a time. And +then we had lots of other stuff to eat, and we went to the train, and +Camilla told me to watch that Mrs. Francis didn't let the tea-kettle +boil dry while I was there, and I guess that was all." + +But of the incident of the pearl ring, strangely enough, she said not +a word. + +* * * + +When Thomas Perkins found out that Bud had really gone he was plunged +in deepest grief. He came over to where John Watson was ploughing +stubble, the very picture of self-pity. "Pretty hard on a man, John, +pretty hard," he began as soon as he came within hearing distance, +"to lose his only boy and have to hire help; after losin' the twins, +too, the year of the frozen wheat--fine little fellows they was, too, +supple as a string of suckers. And now, by golly, Bud's gone, John, +with the good new eighteen-dollar suit--that's what I paid for it in +cold cash in Brandon last winter--and I'll have to keep my hired man +on if he don't come back, and this beggar I have, he can eat like a +flock of grasshoppers--he just chunks the butter on his bread and +makes syrup of his tea. Oh, yes, John, it's rough on a man when he +begins to go down the other side of the hill and the bastin' threads +are showin' in his hair. It's pretty hard to have to do with hired +help. I understand now better'n ever why Billy Winter was cryin' so +hard when his third wife died. Billy was whoopin' it up somethin' +awful when Mr. Grantley went out to bury the woman, and Mr. Grantley +said somethin' to comfort Billy about her bein' in a better +place--that was a dead sure bet, anyway--but Billy went right on +bawlin'--he didn't seem to take no notice of this better place +idea--and after a while he says right out, says he: 'She could do +more work than three hired girls, and she was the savin'est one I've +had yet.'" + +"Bud'll come back," said John Watson, soothingly. "The poor lad is +feeling hurt about it--he don't like to have people thinkin' hard of +him." + +"Wasn't ten dollars a ter'ble fine, John, only eighteen?" Mr. Perkins +said. + +"It isn't the money I'm thinkin' of, it's feelin's; poor Bud, and him +as honest a lad as ever drew breath." John Watson had a shrewd +suspicion of who had "plugged" the grain. + +"Well, I don't see why he need feel so bad," the other man said. +"Nobody minds stealin' from the railways or the elevator men. They'd +steal the coppers off a dead man's eyes--eh, what? But where Bud ever +got such notions of honesty, I don't know--search me. It's a fine +thing to be honest, but it's well to have it under control. Now, +there's some kind of sharp tricks I don't hold with. They say that +Mrs. George Steadman sold a seven-pound stone in the middle of a +crock of butter to Mason here some years ago. She thought he'd ship +it away to Winnipeg and nobody'd ever know; but as sure as you're +born, when she got home she found it in the middle of her box of tea. +He paid her twenty-five cents a pound for it, but, by golly! she paid +him fifty cents a pound for it back. Now, I don't hold with that--it +was too risky a deal for me. This Mason's a sharp one, I tell +you--you'll get up early if you ever get ahead of him. In the airly +days, when we all had to go on tick for everything we got at his +store--they do say that every time one of us farmers went to town +that Mason, as soon as he saw us, would say to his bookkeeper: 'Tom +Perkins is in town; put him down for a dollar's worth of sugar and a +quarter of chewin' tobacco.'" + +Pearl came out with a pail to dig some potatoes in the garden. + +"Well, my pretty dear," Mr. Perkins said amiably, "how are you +feeling this evening?" + +"I am real well, thank you," Pearl said, "and I hope you are, too." + +"Well now, my dear, I am not," he said. "You know, of course, that +Buddie's gone." + +"Yes, I know," said Pearl, "but I know Bud didn't do it. Bud is a +good boy, and too honest to do any thing like that. Bud wouldn't plug +grain. What does Bud care for a few cents more on every bushel if he +has to lie to get it?" + +"Look at that now, John!" Mr. Perkins cried, nudging Mr. Watson +gaily. "Isn't that a woman for you all over, young and all as she is? +They never think how the money comes, the lovely critturs." + +"Money isn't everything, Mr. Perkins," said Pearl earnestly. + +"Well, my little dear, most of us think it is pretty nearly +everything." + +"God doesn't care very much about money," she answered. "Look at the +sort of people he gives it to." + +Mr. Perkins looked at her in surprise. "Upon my word, that's true," +he said. "Say, Pearlie, you'll be taking away the preachers' job from +them when you get a little bigger, if they're not careful." + +Pearl laughed good-humouredly and went on with her potato-digging. + +Thomas Perkins went home soon after, and even to him the quiet glory +of the autumn evening came with a sense of beauty and of God's +overshadowing care. "I kinda wish now," he said to himself, "that I +had gone and cleared up the boy's name at first. I can hardly do it +now. They would think I hadn't had the nerve to do it at first. Say, +what that kid said is pretty near right. Money ain't everything." He +was looking at the bars of amethyst cloud that streaked the west, and +at the lemon-coloured sky below them. Prairie chickens whirred +through the air on their way to a straw pile near by. From the Souris +valley behind him came the strident whistle of the evening train as +it thundered over the long wooden bridge. A sudden love of his home +and family came to Thomas Perkins as he looked over at his +comfortable buildings and his broad fields. "If Bud were only over +there," he thought, "how good it would be! Poor Bud, wandering +to-night without a home, and through no fault of his own." + +Just for the moment Mr. Perkins was honestly repentant; then the +other side of his nature came back. "I do hope that boy will think to +grease' his boots--they'll go like paper if he doesn't," he said. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +PEARL'S PHILOSOPHY + + + For the love of God is broader + Than the measure of man's mind, + And the heart of the Eternal + Is most wonderfully kind. + + _----F. W. Faber._ + +IT WAS a dreamy day in late October, when not only the Tiger Hills +were veiled in mist, but every object on the prairie had a gentle +draping of amber gray. "Prairie fires ragin' in the hills," said Aunt +Kate, who always sought for an explanation of natural phenomena, but +Pearlie Watson knew better. She knew that it was a dream curtain that +God puts around the world in the autumn, when the grass is faded and +the trees bare and leafless. She explained it to the other children +coming home that night. + +"You see, kids," said Pearl, "in the summer everything is so well +fixed up that there's no need to hide anything, and so the sun just +shines and shines, and the days are long and bright to let every one +have a good look at things. There's the orange-lilies pepperin' the +grass, and there's cowslips and ladies' slippers, if it's yellows you +like, and there's wild roses and morning-glories, and pink ladies' +slippers, if you know whereto look for them, and the hills are all so +green and velvety, and there's the little ponds full of water with +the wind crinklin' the top of it, and strings of wild ducks sailin' +kind o' sideways across them. Oh, it's a great sight, and it would be +a pity to put a mist on it. But now the colour has faded and the +ponds have dried up, and the grass is dead and full of dust, and it's +far nicer to have this gray veil drawn in close around. It helps you +to make a pretty picture for yourself. Now, look over there, near Tom +Simpson's old house--that ain't a train track at all, but a deep blue +sea, where boats sail day and night, and 'Spanish sailors with +bearded lips' walk up and down clankin' their swords and whisperin' +about hidden treasures." + +Pearl's voice had fallen almost to a whisper. + +"To-night when the moon rises the tallest one, the one with the deep +scar on his cheek, will lead the way to the cave in the rock; the +door flies open if you say the password 'Magooslem,' and there the +golden guineas lie strewn upon the stone floors. And look back there +at Lib Cavers's house--do you see how dreamy like and sleepin' it is, +not takin' a bit of notice of anything? It don't look like a house +where there's ever dirty dishes or anybody feelin' sad or lonely, and +I don't believe that's Cavers's house at all," went on Pearl, making +a bold appeal to the imagination of her audience--"that's just a +dream house, where there is a big family of children, and they're +goin' to have pancakes for supper--pancakes and maple syrup!" + +At this association of ideas Bugsey made a quick move for the +dinner-pail, in which he had a distinct interest. Bugsey was what his +parents called a "quare lad" (his brothers often called him worse +than that), and one way he had of showing his "quareness" was that he +did not even eat like other people. On this particular day the Watson +children had for dinner, among other plainer things, a piece of wild +cranberry pie, with the pits left in, for each child. Patsy's piece +had gone at the first recess; Danny's did not get past the fireguard +around the school; Tammy's disappeared before he had gone a hundred +yards from the house (Tommy was carrying the dinner-pail); but +Bugsey, the "quare lad," did not eat his in school at all, but left +it to eat on the way home. + +Now cranberry pie with the pits in is a perishable article, and +should not be left unguarded in this present evil world, where human +nature has its frailties. When Bugsey looked into the pail, he raised +a wail of bereavement, and at the same moment Tommy set out for home +at high speed accelerated no doubt by the proddings of conscience. +Bugsey followed, breathing out slaughter, and even made the murderous +threat of "takin' it out of his hide," which no doubt was only +intended figuratively. + +"Come back here, Bugsey Watson!" cried Pearl authoritatively. "What +do yez mane by it? S'posin' he did ate yer pie? It ain't as bad as if +he knocked an eye out of yer. You shouldn't have left it in the pail +to tempt him anyway. If you'd et it when you should ye'd had it and, +anyway, don't be ye wasting yer temper fightin' for things like pie, +that's here to-day and away to-morrow. It's a long way worse for him +that has the mean feelin' than it is for you, so it is." In her +excitement Pearl went back to her Irish brogue. Tommy by this time +was a long way down the road, still making his small legs fly, +thinking that the avenging Bugsey was in pursuit. + +So intent were the children on the pie dispute that they did not hear +the approach of a buggy behind them, until Sandy Braden with his +pacing horse drove by. When he saw Pearl he reined in with a sudden +impulse. + +"Will you come and ride with me? I'll drive you home," he said, +addressing her. "Bring that little chap with you," he added, noticing +the shortness of Danny's fat legs. + +Pearl assented to this, and she and Danny climbed into the +rubber-tired buggy. + +They drove for a short distance in silence, and then, pulling his +pacer to a walk, Mr. Braden said: "I have always wanted to tell you, +Pearl, that I did not break my word that day. I left word with the +bartender not to give Bill Cavers any liquor, but he did give it to +him, and I have been sorry ever since about it, and I wanted you to +know." + +"I am glad you told me," Pearl answered quickly, "for I've often been +sorry for you, thinkin' what sad thoughts you must be havin'." + +"My thoughts are sad enough," he said gloomily, "for it was my +whiskey that killed him, even if I didn't hand it out to him myself." + +Pearl did not contradict him. + +"Isn't it queer how things happen?" she said at last thoughtfully. +"God does His level best for everybody! He tries to take them easy at +first, to see if they'll take telling, and if they do, all right; but +if they won't take telling, He has to jolt them good and plenty. But +He always knows what He's doin'." + +"I'm afraid I have not such unbounded faith in the Ruler of the +Universe as you have," he said at last "Bill Cavers didn't get +exactly a fair deal." + +"Oh, don't worry about Bill Cavers now," said Pearl quickly. "Bill's +still in God's hands, and God has a better chance at him now than He +ever had. God never intended Bill to be a drunkard,--or you to be +handing liquor out to people; you can bank on that. And he never +intended Mrs. Cavers to be all sad and discouraged. God would do good +things for people if they would only let Him, but He has to have a +free hand on them. When you see people goin' wrong or cuttin' up dog, +you may be sure that God didn't put it down that way in the writin's. +Some one has jiggled His elbow, that's all. And it's great how He +makes it up to people, too. Now, you'd be surprised to see how +cheerful Mrs. Cavers is. When I went over after our threshin' to take +her the money--" + +"What money?" he interrupted. + +Pearl hesitated. "Well, you know we took their farm when they left +it, and there was some cleared on it, and the house is better than +none, and so we gave her a little to help her and Libby Anne to get +ready to go back to her folks down East." + +"How much did you give her?" he asked. + +"Two hundred dollars. She didn't want to take it, but really was glad +of it, and Pa and Ma and all of us have been feeling better ever +since. But I was goin' to tell you how cheerful she is, and Libby +Anne is happier than she used to be. Poor little Lib, she's so thin +and pale, she's never had a good time like other children." + +Sandy Braden winced at her words, for an illuminated conscience +showed him what had cheated Libby Anne out of her childhood. + +"Poor little kid!" he said. + +"I knew," said Pearl, after a pause, "that day that Jimmy and I went +in with the onions that you didn't really know what a mean business +you were in, or you wouldn't do it. You did not look to me like a man +that would hit a woman." + +"That's the part of it I can't forget," he said bitterly. "I can't +forget the look of that thin little wisp of a woman, and Lord! how +she glared at me! She could have killed me that day. I don't go much +on religion, Pearl. I don't see much in religion, but I certainly +would not hit a woman if I knew it." + +"Where did you learn that?" Pearl asked quickly. "You wouldn't know +that if it wasn't for religion. Mr. Burrell was telling us last +Sunday that there's no religion teaches that only ours. You say you +don't go much on religion, and still it's religion that has put any +good in you that there is, and don't you forget it." + +"That's not saying much for it, either," he said gloomily. + +"Well, now, I think it is,"--said Pearl. "In lots of countries you'd +pass for an awful good man. It's on'y when you stood up beside +Christ, who was so good and kind and straight, that you can see +you're not what you ought to be. If it wasn't for the Bible and +Christ we wouldn't know how good a man should be." + +"I haven't read the Bible for a goad many years," he said slowly. "I +don't believe I ever read much of it." + +Pearl looked straight into his face, and said without a minute's +hesitation: "Well, I'll bet you a dollar some one read it for you and +passed it on to you." + +Sandy Braden looked straight ahead of him, down the deeply tinted +prairie road, at the hazy outlines of the sand-hills, with their +scattered spruce trees, blurred now into indistinctness--that is, his +eyes were turned toward them, but what he really saw in one of those +sudden flashes of memory which makes us think that nothing is ever +entirely forgotten, was a cheerful old-fashioned room, with a +rag-carpet on the floor and pictures in round frames on the wall. The +sun came in through the eastern windows, and the whole place felt +like Sunday. He saw his mother sitting in a rocking-chair, with a big +Bible on her knee, and by her side was a little boy whom he knew to +be himself. He saw again on her finger the thin silver ring, worn +almost to a thread, and felt the clasp of her hand on his as she +guided his finger over the words she was teaching him; and back +through the long years they came to him: "Love one another as I have +loved you." He remembered, too, and smelled again the sweet-mary +leaves that were always kept in his mother's Bible, and saw again +the cards with big coloured birds on them that he had got at +Sunday-school for regular attendance, and which were always kept +between its pages; and while he mused on these things with sudden +tenderness, there came back again the same numb feeling of sorrow +that he had had when he came home, a heartbroken boy, from his +mother's funeral that day so many years ago, and buried his face in +the sweet-mary leaves in the old Bible, and blotted its pages with +his tears; for it seemed more like her than anything else in the +house. He remembered that the undertaker's black mat with its ghastly +white border was still in the front window, where the coffin had +rested, and that the room smelled of camphor. + +Pearl saw that memory was busy with him, and said not a word. + +At last he spoke. "You're right, Pearl," he said. "Some one did read +it and pass it on to me, and it would have been better for me if I'd +stayed closer to what she taught me." + +"Ain't it queer how things turn out?" Pearl exclaimed, after a long +pause. "Now, I've often wondered why Christ had to die--it seemed a +terrible thing to happen to Him, and Him that lovin' and kind--do you +mind how gentle and forgivin' He was?" + +Sandy Braden nodded. + +"Well, Mr. Donald and I have been talkin' about it quite a bit, and +at first we thought it shouldn't have happened, but now it looks as +if God had to strike hard to make people listen, and to show them +what a terrible thing sin is. Death ain't nothin' to be afraid of, +nor sufferin' either. Sin is the only thing to be real scared of. It +wasn't the rusty nails through His hands that made the dear Lord cry +out in agony--it was the hard hearts of them that done it. Bill +Cavers's death has done good already, for it has closed your bar, and +no one knows how many men and boys that may save; and you're a +different man now, thinking different thoughts, ain't you?" + +"I'm a mighty unhappy man," he said sadly. "I'm different that way, +that's a sure thing." + +Pearl looked at him closely, as if she would see the inner working of +his mind. + +"Mr. Braden, I know just what you're like," she said. "Did you ever +see a man 'trying to stand still on a bicycle? That's no harder than +what you're tryin' to do. You've stopped doin' wrong, but you haven't +gone on, and you're in great shape to take a bad fall. If you'd +just get busy helpin' people you'd soon get over bein' sad and +down-hearted. You're feelin' bad over Bill Cavers's death. Why don't +you make Bill's death count for something good? You're a smart man, +and everybody likes you. If you was to teach a Bible class every one +would come to hear you." + +"I'll bet they would," he said, shrugging his shoulders and laughing +almost bitterly. + +"Well, then," said Pearl, "don't let the chances all go by you. Do +you know, I often look at trees and feel sorry for them?" + +"Why?" he asked curiously. + +"Because they can't do a thing to help each other; and I often wonder +if they're the people who wouldn't lift a finger to help any one when +they were livin', and so they were turned into trees when they died, +and now they see grubs and worms crawlin' over their own folks, +maybe, and they can't lift a leaf to help them. Mr. Donald read us a +story in school about a man who was awful mean while he lived and +wouldn't help anybody, and when he died he had to wander up and down +the world and see people starvin' and all sorts of sad sights, but he +couldn't do a single thing for them, though he wanted to bad enough, +because he had forged a chain that bound him hand and foot while he +was livin', all unbeknownst to himself. Did you ever read that little +book, Mr. Braden?" + +"I did," he said. "I read that story, but I had almost forgotten it. +I haven't thought of it for years." + +"It's a good story," said Pearl meaningly. + +"I guess it is," he answered, smiling. + +When they reached the Watson home, Mrs. Watson and Aunt Kate came out +and thanked Mr. Braden profusely for his kindness in "givin' the +childer a lift." Danny, who had been bored by the serious nature of +the conversation, had gone to sleep, and was carried snoring into the +house. + +Mr. Braden admired the display of poppies and asters, which still +made a brave show of colour against the almost leafless trees of the +bluff, and when Pearl ran over to pick him a bouquet of asters, was +it by accident--or does anything ever happen by accident--that she +put in some leaves of sweet-mary? + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +TRUE GREATNESS + + + A shipwrecked sailor, waiting for a sail; + No sail from day to day, but every day + The sunrise broken into scarlet shafts + --A blaze upon the waters to the east, + A blaze upon the waters to the west, + --but no sail. + + _----From Enoch Arden._ + + +ALMOST every person in the neighbourhood was interested in Arthur +Wemyss's new home which he had built on the bank of Plover Creek, a +small stream that dawdled aimlessly across the prairie from Lang's +Lake to the Souris River. Plover Creek followed the line of least +resistance all the way along, not seeming to care how often it +changed its direction, but zigzagging and even turning around and +doubling on itself sometimes. Its little dimpled banks, treeless save +for clumps of silver willow, gave a pleasing variety to the prairie +scenery. + +It was on one of the highest of these banks that Arthur had built his +house, and it was a pleasant outlook for any one who loves the long +view that the prairie gives, where only the horizon obstructs the +vision. + +Behind the house, which faced the setting sun, was an old "buffalo +run," a narrow path, grass-grown now, but beaten deep into the earth +by the hoofs of innumerable buffalo that long ago came down to the +little stream to drink. It had been a favourite killing-place, too, +for the Indians, as the numerous buffalo bones, whitened by the sun +and frost of many seasons, plainly showed. + +Arthur had made a fantastic "rockery" of skulls and shanks and ribs, +and filled it in with earth, enough to furnish growth for trailing +nasturtiums, whose bright red and yellow blossoms were strangely at +variance with their sombre setting. + +Arthur had won for himself many friends among the people of the +neighbourhood by his manly, upright ways and by his courteous manner, +and every one in the neighbourhood, particularly the women, were +interested in the coming of Thursa. Mrs. Motherwell, Mrs. Slater, and +Mrs. Watson had each promised to set a hen on thirteen eggs--which +number is supposed to lose its unluckiness when applied to eggs--to +give Thursa a start in poultry. Arthur thanked them warmly, but just +for a minute he found himself wondering how Thursa would look feeding +chickens. He knew that she was adorable at tennis or golf, and +although attending to fowl is not really more strenuous than these, +still it is different. But everything looks rosy at twenty-five, and +Arthur was supremely happy dreaming of the coming of Thursa. + +His father and mother had sent him a phonograph for his Christmas +present the previous year, and it had been an unending source of +comfort and pleasure to him as well as to his neighbours and friends. +There was one record that Arthur put on only when he was alone, for +it was Thursa's own voice singing to him from across the sea--the +song of all others he loved to hear, for every note, every word of +it, throbbed with tenderness and love: + + "The hours I spent with thee, dear heart, + Are as a string of pearls to me; + I count them over, every one apart, + My rosary, my rosary." + +Often when his day's work was over and he sat in his little house, as +the velvet-footed dusk came creeping down the Plover Creek, Thursa's +bird-like voice, so clear and precious and full of dearest memories, +would fill the little room with heavenly sweetness and carry him back +again to the dear days at home, when they wandered hand in hand +beside the English hedges "white with laughing may." + +There was only one person in the community with whom Arthur felt +really at home and to whom he could speak freely, and that was Martha +Perkins, for although Martha did not talk much she was a pleasant +listener, and Arthur always came away rested and cheered. "She is a +jolly good sort, Martha is," he often told himself, "a real +comfortable sort of person." In return for Martha's kindness to him +Arthur brought her books and magazines when he found that Martha now +spent most of her time reading instead of working at the never-ending +needlework. + +All through the harvest Arthur had had working for him a stolid-faced +son of toil, whose morose face began to "get on his nerves," and it +was partly to get away from this depressing influence that Arthur +went much oftener to see Martha than he had up to this time. His man +was "no company and spoiled his solitude," he said. When the harvest +was over and his farm hand had gone it seemed quite natural for him +to keep up his visits regularly, and since Bud had gone the family +were very glad of his cheery presence. + +One Friday night Arthur did not come for his bread as was his custom, +and when Martha took it over herself the next morning she found him +suffering from a bad attack of la grippe. Then followed for Martha +five sweet days of never-to-be-forgotten happiness, when Arthur, +fevered and restless, would exclaim with joy when she came in. Martha +was a born nurse, quiet, steady, and cheerful, and no matter how +Arthur's head was aching when she came in, he always felt better just +to have her near, and the touch of her hand, work-hardened though it +was, on his forehead, always had the effect of soothing him. + +She went every night and morning to Arthur's house, bringing with her +enough tempting eatables to feed two healthy men; for Martha was +strongly imbued with the idea that to eat well was a sure road to +recovery. In Arthur's case her faith was justified, for on the +morning of the sixth day she found him so much better that she +realized the happy days were over. Arthur no longer needed her. + +"My word, Martha," he said, "you have been a welcome sight to me this +week. You are like the good fairy of the tales. I have been noticing +how you have improved the house. Thursa will thank you when she +comes: I am sure you and Thursa will be the greatest pals ever. I was +just thinking, Martha, what a comfortable sort of person you are +anyway. You do know how to make people feel easy in their minds. It +is wonderful. I never saw any one like you in that way." + +Any person looking at Martha then would not have called her a plain +girl, so radiant did her face become at these words of praise. + +"It's my only gift," she said with her slow smile. "I cannot sing or +talk or look nice. I can only bake and scrub and sew and keep things +tidy." + +"Well, that is a gift, I tell you, a real good one. People who talk +sometimes talk too much, and you can't live on singing, you know, +though it is one of the greatest gifts." He was thinking of Thursa's +chirrupy little treble, which to him was the sweetest music on earth. +"Thursa will brighten us all when she comes. Just to hear her laugh, +Martha, would chase away the blues any day. She has the most adorable +little ways. You do not mind hearing me rave about her, do you, +Martha? You know, you are the only person I can talk to about her, +and when you see her you won't blame me at all." + +Martha was putting on her wraps to go home, and fortunately he could +not see her face. + +"That's all right, Arthur," she said bravely. "I like to hear you +talk--about her," which came as near to being a deliberate falsehood +as Martha had ever told in all her honest life. + +* * * + +The arrangements for Arthur's wedding were all made. Thursa was +coming the first week in December and would stay with Martha until +Christmas Day. Arthur's house was not quite ready yet. Martha, glad +to feel that she was of any service to him, made great preparations +for the coming of Thursa. + +Her own bedroom, which was to be used by Thursa, was re-papered and +painted; the new rag carpet that Martha had put away in her cupboard +"in case" was put on the floor; new lace curtains, bought out of +the butter money, replaced the frilled art muslin that had been at +the windows. Martha's best pin-cushion, her best stand-covers and +pillow-shams were all brought out for Thursa's use. It seemed very +fitting to her that her treasures should be used by Arthur's bride. +She thought of it all sadly, but without bitterness. + +One afternoon Aunt Kate and Pearl came over, and Martha invited them +to come upstairs and see the room she had made ready for Thursa. + +"Upon my word, Martha," Aunt Kate said, as she looked admiringly at +Martha's tastefully arranged room, "you're fixin' up as if you were +goin' to be married yerself, and I just hope this English girl of his +is all he thinks she is, and not a useless tool like some of them +are. I mind well one Englishwoman who lived neighbour to me down in +Ontario, nice woman, too, but sakes alive, she was a dirty +housekeeper. She was a cousin to the Duke of something, but she'd +make a puddin' in the wash-basin just the same. I'd hate awful to see +Arthur get a girl like that. I suppose you haven't heard him say +whether she's been brought up thrifty. It means a lot, let me tell +you. I've seen women that could throw out as much at the back door as +their man could bring in the front. You don't know, do you, whether +or not she's savin'?" + +"I don't know, I'm sure," Martha said. "I don't think she has much +experience, but she can learn. It's no trick to do housework." + +"Well, now, Martha, you're wrong, for it is a trick," Aunt Kate said +positively. "It's the finest thing a woman can know. A man will get +tired of a pretty face, but he ain't likely to tire of good vittles +and well-mended clothes; and if he came home hungry and found her +playin' the piano and no dinner ready, it would make him swear, if +anything would." + +Aunt Kate went down-stairs then to help Mrs. Perkins do some sewing, +and Pearl and Martha were left alone. + +"It's awful good of you, Martha, to help Arthur's wedding along so +well," Pearl said, "but I know you are glad to do it. People ought to +be kind to any one that's gettin' married, I do think. They need +flowers and kind things said about them far more than people do when +they are gettin' buried. Pshaw! When a person's dead they're clean +out of the bush and not needin' help from any one; but getting +married is awful. Ma saved the lilacs she had when she was married, +and put them in a gem-jar, and I've often heard her tell what a +comfort they were to her when she came home all tired and couldn't +get the stains out of some one's tablecloth. She had a piece of the +cake, too, sealed up in a vaseline jar, and the very maddest I ever +saw Ma was when she found Danny eatin' it--he et her clove apple the +same day, and we couldn't do a thing to him because it was his +birthday." + +Martha looked at Pearl wonderingly. There were no dried lilacs or +sealed vaseline jars in her family, but she understood vaguely what +it might mean. + +"You are going to be the bridesmaid, Pearl," Martha said. "Arthur +told me so!" + +"Oh, goody!" Pearl cried, but a sudden thought occurring to her, she +said, "You should be it yourself, Martha. Why don't you?" + +"I'll tell you why, Pearl," said Martha. "I would look awful beside +Thursa. She is fair and fluffy-haired, and she'd make me look worse +than usual. Arthur asked me, but I told him I couldn't very well. +Anyway, there is the gravy to make and the pudding-sauce, and I'll +have to be right there over it. You'll do it, won't you, Pearl?" + +"Oh, yes, I'll do it," said Pearl. "Sure thing. Glad of the chance to +wear the white dress Camilla made me and my bracelet--and--and all!" +She was about to ask Martha, question, but changed her mind suddenly +and went on: "I just hope there'll be a lovely blue sky and snow on +the ground and a real glitterin' sunshine, like what Christmas ought +to be, with everything so lovely that it just hurts, and so much +Christmas in it that you're dead sure the air is full of angels. And, +Martha, we'll put blue ribbons on the table to make them think of the +blue sky that was over them on their weddin' day. I tell you, Martha, +it's a great thing to have blue skies to think of, even if you +haven't got blue skies over you. It heartens a person up wonderful to +know that up through the clouds the sky is blue anyway. It's just +like havin' on a clean shirt, Martha, even if your outside clothes +are not very clean. So, if there's a blue sky we'll try to pin down +some of it, so they can use it when they need it. When is she comin', +Martha?" + +"Next week, she is in Brandon now. She is staying there a few days to +see the shops, Arthur said." + +Pearl wrinkled her forehead. "Isn't it a wonder she don't come +hustlin'? You'd think she'd be far more anxious to see him than any +store. She's seen loads of stores, and she hasn't seen him for two +years. Say, Martha, there was an English painter in Millford when we +lived there who sent home for his girl, and comin' over on the boat +didn't she meet another fellow she liked better and she up and +married him. Wouldn't it be awful if Thursa was to do that after +Arthur gettin' all ready, too?" + +Martha did not answer, and Pearl, looking up, was startled at the +expression of her face--it was like the face of a shipwrecked sailor +who has been looking, looking, looking over a desolate waste of +water, dreaming of hope, but never daring to hope, when suddenly, +before his weary eyes, there flashes a sail! Of course, it may not be +a sail at all, and even if it is a boat it may never, never see the +shipwrecked sailor, but still a great hope leaps into his face! + +Pearl saw it all in Martha's face in that moment; she remembered +Martha's saying that often when she sat at her embroidery she +imagined foolish things that could never come true. + +"Isn't she a brick?" Pearl thought to herself. "Gettin' ready for +this weddin' just as cheerful as if her heart wasn't breakin'!" Then +Pearl, in her quick imagination, made a new application: "Just like +if it was me gettin' ready for Miss Morrison to marry--" She stopped +and thought, with a stern look on her face. Then she said to herself +grimly: "I believe this is the greatest piece of True Greatness I've +seen yet, and if it is, then I haven't got a smell of it." + +"No word from Bud, is there, Martha?" asked after a while. + +"Nothing, only the card from Calgary saying he was working on a +horse-ranch west of there. It's lonely without him, I tell you, +Pearl. I wonder will he ever come back?" said Martha wistfully. + +"Sure he will!" cried Pearl. "Bud'll come back, and it'll all be +cleared up, and don't you forget it." + +"I don't know how, Pearl." + +"Some way we don't expect, maybe, but it'll all come right. +Everything will in time," Pearl answered cheerfully. + +At tea-time the conversation naturally turned to weddings. Mr. +Perkins had been in a doleful frame of mind until the visitors came, +but under the stimulus of fresh listeners he brightened up +wonderfully. Here were two people who had not heard any of his +stories. He was full of reminiscences of strange weddings that he had +been at or had heard of. One in particular, which came back to him +now with great vividness, was when his friend, Ned Mullins, married +the Spain girl down "the Ot'way." + +"Ned had intended to marry the youngest one," he said, "but when we +got there, by jinks, there was Jane, the oldest one, all decked out +with ribbons and smilin' like a basket of chips, while the pretty +one, Rosie, that Ned wanted, was sittin' in a corner holdin' a +handkerchief to her eyes. Old man Spain said he'd let no man cull the +family--he'd have to take them as they come, by George! Poor Ned was +all broke up. They wouldn't let him say a word to Rosie--they seemed +to know which way her evidence would run. The timber-boss took Ned +aside; I can hear him yet the way he said, 'Marry the girl, Ned, me +boy; the Spaniards are too numerous for us! We mustn't make bad blood +wid them!' Father Welsh was there all ready, kinda tapping his foot +impatient-like, waiting to earn his money. Old Geordie Hodgins was +there; he was one of the oldest river-drivers on the Ot'way, a sly +old dog with a big wad o' money hid away some place, some said it was +in the linin' of his cap. Old Geordie never looked at a girl--Scotch, +you know, they're careful. Well, old Geordie began kinda snuffin' +like he always did when he got excited. Well, sir, he got up and +began to walk around, slappin' his hands together, and all the +clatter stopped, for every one was wonderin' what was wrong with +Geordie; and old man Spain, he says: 'What's wrong, Geordie? Sit +down, blame you, and let's get on wid the weddin'.' And then old +Georgie straightens up and says, 'I'll take the old one, if ye like, +and let Ned have the wan he wants,' and with that the little one with +the red eyes bounces right out of her corner and she slaps a kiss on +Geordie that you could hear for the brea'th of an acre. Old Geordie +wiped it off with the back of his hand and says he, 'Look out, young +Miss, don't you do that again or Ned'll have to take the old one +after all.' And by jinks, as soon as she heard that the old one, who +wasn't so slow after all, she bounced up and landed one on Geordie +that sounded like an ox pullin' his foot out of the mud, and, then +Ned he came to himself and says he, 'See here, Geordie's gettin' +more'n his share; where do I come in?' and then John McNeish, the +piper, struck up his pipes, and we were all off into an eight-hand +reel before you could wink. There wasn't enough girls to go round, +and I had to swing around Bill Fraser with the wooden leg, and Bill +was kinda topply around the corners, but we got the two couples +married and they both done well." + +Mrs. Perkins was something of a raconteur herself, and she, too, was +ready with a story on the same subject. She and her husband never +interfered with each other's story-telling. Each chose his or her own +story and proceeded with it quite independent of the other one. But +it was confusing to the audience when the two stories ran +concurrently, as they did to-day. + +Mrs. Perkins's story was about her youngest sister's husband's +brother, who was the "biggest cut-up you ever saw." He'd keep a whole +room full of people "in stitches, and he was engaged to a girl called +Sally Gibson--she was one of the Garafraxa Gibsons that ran the mill +at 'the Soble'--well, anyway, this Sally Gibson gave him the slip and +married a fellow from Owen Sound, and some say even kept the ring," +though Mrs. Perkins was not prepared to say for sure; but, anyway, +this was pretty hard on her youngest sister's husband's brother. +Henry Hall was his name and he had bought the license and all. "He +was terrible cut up and vowed he'd marry some one and not lose his +license altogether, so he came over to where Bessie Collins lived, +and he came in at the back door, and there was Bessie scrubbin' the +floor, and he says: 'Bessie, will you marry me?' and she says, +knowin' what a cut-up he was, she says, 'Go on, Hank, you're +foolin',' and he says: 'I'm not foolin', Bessie,' and he told her +what Sally Gibson had went and done, and then Bessie says: 'Well, +wait till I've finished this floor and do off the door-step, and I +don't care if I do.' So she went and primped herself some and they +were married and they done well, too!" + +* * * + +When Pearl and her aunt were walking home that night Aunt Kate said: +"I like them people better one at a time. I never did like a two-ring +circus. I never could watch the monkey trundlin' a barrel up a +gangway when the clown was jumpin' through rings; it always annoyed +me to be losin' either one or the other. Did you get any sense of it, +Pearlie?" + +But Pearl's thoughts were on an entirely different theme. "Miss +Morrison ain't what you'd call a real pretty girl, not like Mary +Barner or Camilla," she said absently. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +THE COMING OF THURSA + + + Each hour a pearl, each pearl a prayer + To still a heart in absence wrung. + I tell each bead unto the end, and there + A cross is hung! + + _----My Rosary._ + + +EARLY in December Thursa came. Martha had asked Pearl to come over +and help her to receive her guest, which Pearl was only too glad to +do, for she knew how hard all this was for Martha. + +"Just like sendin' out invitations to yer own funeral," Pearl said, +as early in the morning of the eventful day she walked over the snowy +road to the Perkins home. In spite of all, Pearl was determined to +have Martha looking her very best. She was even prepared to put +powder on Martha's face, and had actually secured some from Camilla +for the occasion. + +Martha had improved in many ways since the day she and Pearl had +talked beside the lilac hedge. She stood straighter; she walked more +gracefully; she was more at her ease in conversation. These were the +outward visible signs; but the most important change that had taken +place in Martha was that she now had a broader outlook on the world. +It was no longer bounded on the north by the Assiniboine River and +the Brandon Hills, and on the south by the Tiger Hills and Pelican +Lake. The hours that she had spent studying the magazine had been +well spent, and Martha had really learned a great deal. She had +learned that there were hundreds and hundreds of other girls like +herself, living lonely lives of endless toil and sacrifice, and who +still kept alive the little flame of ambition and the desire to make +the best of their surroundings and themselves; and from the stories, +which she now read with consuming interest, she learned that there +were other women who loved hopelessly, but yet without bitterness, +whose hearts were enriched by it, and who went on with their work day +by day, bravely fighting the good fight; and with all this Martha's +heart was greatly sustained and comforted. Martha had some blue days, +too, when she was deeply conscious of her own dullness, and was +disposed to give up all her efforts; but Pearl Watson was always able +to fire her with fresh enthusiasm, for it was Pearl's good gift that +she could inspire people to worthy endeavour. + +It was not long before Arthur noticed that Martha was brightening up +and that she seemed easier to talk to. After his long days of +solitude he was glad of an opportunity to talk to an interested +listener, and so he found his way over to the Perkins home three or +four nights every week. + +He told her stories of his school-days and of the glorious holidays +he had spent at his uncle's country home. Arthur was a close observer +and an interesting talker, and even Mrs. Perkins sometimes sat up to +listen to him. Thomas Perkins said he didn't take much stock in the +stories that young English chap told, and so he usually retired to +the kitchen, where he would sit studying the catalogues. Mr. Perkins +preferred the centre of the stage, if he were on it at all, and +certainly would not consent to do a "thinking part" for anybody. + +* * * + +"Don't you be a bit worried, Martha," Pearl said soothingly, as she +was combing Martha's hair that morning; "you'll look just as well as +she does. Englishwomen always look queer to me with those big rough +coats on them, all crinkly at the seams. They always wear them coming +over on the boat, and it looks to me as if they fell in a few times +and the stuff shrunk something awful; and their hair is always queer, +done in a bun on the small of their neck." + +"But Thursa is not like that," Martha said. "She is little and +slight, and has a skin as fair as a lily and pink cheeks." + +Pearl stepped back to look at Martha's hair, done in a braid around +the top, before replying: + +"Skin like a lily, has she? Well, that settles it--we'll use the +powder. Now, don't say a word, Martha--it ain't wicked at all--it's +paintin' and powderin' that's wicked. Now, I could make a bright glow +on each of yer cheeks by usin' the red leaf of one of the roses on my +summer hat. I thought of that, and I tried it myself--it was a fine +colour and would improve you, Martha, but I'm afraid it wouldn't be +just the thing to do it, and anyway you are looking fine now, and +your red silk waist will give you a colour." + +They went down-stairs when Martha's toilet was complete, speculating +on what Thursa would be like. Martha was plainly nervous, which Pearl +saw, but would not recognize. They were not left long in doubt, for +in a few minutes they heard Arthur driving up to the door. Pearl and +Martha held each other's hands in suspense until the door opened and +Arthur said quite simply: + +"Martha, this is Thursa." + +And then poor Martha had need of her full supply of true greatness as +Thursa's fresh young beauty burst on her, for Thursa was of that most +bewitching type of young English girl, clear-skinned and violet-eyed, +with a head of curling golden hair. She wore a long green coat and a +little green cap that did not begin to hold down the rebellious +curls. + +If Martha was embarrassed Thursa certainly was not. She kissed Martha +impulsively and called her "the dearest thing," and then, turning to +Pearl, cried gaily. "Come here, you brown-eyed witch. I should have +known you anywhere. You two girls have spoiled Arthur, I am afraid, +by dancing attendance on him. He will be so frightfully important and +overlordish, but all that will be changed now. I am really a very +domineering person." + +When Martha took Thursa upstairs to remove her wraps she said, as she +tucked in her curls before the glass: "It does seem so gorgeous to be +away without an aunt. I have three of them at home, you know, and +they have always taken the wildest interest in me, and there was +always one ready to come with me every place. They are not old +really, but they seem old to me, and I really expect they will never +die. They have heaps of money, too, and so I simply had to be civil +to them. I had a perfectly ripping time on the boat. My aunts put me +in charge of the Bishop of Donchester, and he was a perfect love and +went to his stateroom so early every evening, and slept in a steamer +chair every afternoon until he got ill, the old dear, and then he +didn't appear at all for three days, and I really had such jolly fun. +It did seem such fun not to be bothered with some one stalking me all +the time. There were such pleasant people, too, on shipboard!'" + +Martha remembered what Pearl had said about the English girl who had +changed her mind coming over on the boat, and, making an excuse about +having dinner to see to, went down stairs and sent Pearl up to +Thursa. Pearl would get at the true state of affairs quicker than any +one else. + +"Did you have a pleasant journey?" Pearl asked, when she went +upstairs. + +"Oh, rather!" said Thursa. "It was simply heavenly to be away any +place without an aunt. I was just telling Martha I have three of +them--Aunt Honora, Aunt Constance, and Aunt Prudence. They have +dangled their money over my head for years, but I don't care now if I +never get it. They've always done everything for me. They picked out +Arthur for me because his uncle is a bishop, and they do adore +bishops." + +"But didn't you like Arthur first--yourself--anyway?" Pearl +exclaimed, hanging on to the chair in her excitement. + +Thursa pursed her pretty lips. "Well enough--oh, yes, real well--and +I liked him awfully when he decided to come to Canada--it was so +splendid and dashing of him, I thought, and I was simply wild to +come, too, for the adventures!" + +"The what?" Pearl asked. + +"The adventures. It must be perfectly jolly to chase Indians and +buffaloes and bears. Wouldn't it be a lark to send one home?" + +Pearl winked hard, wondering if it was an Indian, a buffalo, or a +bear she wanted to send home. + +After dinner, for which Arthur stayed, Thursa said she believed she +would take a rest--she had so many letters to write, too, to people +she met on shipboard, and such delightful people. + +Arthur begged to be let stay 'a little while longer, but Thursa said +very, decidedly he must go now and not come back until the next +evening, for she really must get her letters done--there was one in +particular that must be sent by next post. "Do you know a Mr. Smeaton +in Brandon," she asked, "Mr. Jack Smeaton?" + +Arthur did not know him. + +"He was on the boat and was so jolly! He was teaching me Canadian +words. We did have good fun over it. He told me to be sure and let +him know how I liked you when I saw you." + +Arthur winced. + +"I said I would come and see anyway, for I said I couldn't believe +you had changed so very much in two years. He said it was always well +to take thirty days to consider any serious step, and he taught me +the word for it--'a thirty days' option'--that's it, Arthur. That's +what I have on you!" + +She laughed merrily, but Arthur pleaded with her not to say such +things. + +Then Thursa became very serious. "Now, Arthur, for heaven's sake," +she said, "don't act like the aunts. That's what I've listened to all +my life. Calm yourself, my de-ar. That's what I've run away from. I +might as well have stayed with them if you're going to do it. It's +wicked of you, Arthur, it really is, to scold me, when I came so far +just to see you, and when you know how tired I am." + +Pearl and Martha retired hastily to the kitchen. + +Arthur apologized in due form and Thursa's good-humour came back. +"Now, then, Arthur, run along, because I am going to have a long +sleep, and then I have some very serious thinking to do. The aunts +said that is what I am incapable of doing, but I've done some that +would have surprised them if they had just heard me at it. Now I am +going to do some more. It's so horrible to be in a quandary. It is as +bad as it was when I was choosing a gown for my first party; I lay +awake nearly a whole night trying to decide between a reseda and a +pink-violet. It was perfectly maddening, and I did have such a head +the next day." + +"Are you in a quandary now, Thursa?" he asked gently. "Tell me about +it." + +"Oh, no, Arthur, dear me, no--I haven't got half my thinking done +yet. I'll tell you after I get it done. I am so happy to think that I +got away without any of the aunts that, really, I am not very worried +about anything. You' know I wasn't perfectly sure that I was away +until I was a day out, and once I got such a fright--there was +something swimming behind the boat! But now, good-bye, Arthur. Kiss +me, if you like. There, now, that will do. Yes, I do like you, +Arthur, you're a good sort. Good-bye till to-morrow evening." + +Two days later Arthur took Thursa over to see the house. She was +quite rested now from her journey, and in her scarlet coat and hat +she was more bewitching than ever. + +"It is very pretty here in the summer-time, Thursa," he said, as they +stood together in the little porch. "I had some flowers last year, +and the trees are growing nicely. It will be the dearest place on +earth to me when you are here. Won't it be glorious to be together +always, dearie, you and I? I wonder if you know how beautiful you +are, Thursa?" + +Thursa knit her brows in deep thought. "I wonder if I do?" she said +quite gravely. "I've heard quite a 'lot about it lately, and I don't +object to hearing it as much as my aunts would wish me to, I fear. It +seems pleasant, really!" + +Arthur laughed joyously. Her beauty dazzled him. + +Then they went into the house that he had built and furnished with +much loving care. Thursa was interested in everything; the shining +new pots and pans gave her great delight--she said they were "such +jolly little dears," but what were they all for? Arthur tried to +explain, but Thursa became impatient at the mention of cooking and +washing dishes, and cried out petulantly. "Why don't you tame a squaw +and have her do all this? I simply loathe cooking or washing up. It +is horrid, messy work, Arthur, and I really never can do it. I know I +can't. I never stayed in our scullery at home for one minute. Of +course my aunts would not have allowed me to stay anyway, but that +isn't why. I simply detest work of that kind." + +Arthur's face showed his disappointment. "We will have to get some +one to show you how," he said, after an unpleasant pause. "You will +not dislike it so much after you learn how, Thursa. It is really +pleasant work, housekeeping is, and I am sure you will learn to be a +famous little housewife." + +"Don't bank too strong on it, Arthur. Isn't that the right word? Mr. +Smeaton taught me that. This idea of having to cook has upset me +dreadfully." + +She sat down in the rocking-chair and rocked herself in her +agitation. "Arthur, I shall go staring mad if I have to mess around +and try to cook. I know I shall. I feel it beginning on me, and I +shall have rough hands, and my skin will get red and blotchy, just +like a cook's, and there will always be a greasy smell on my clothes. +I am going to cry, Arthur, I am, now, really, and nobody can stop me, +and I do cry dreadfully when I start." + +"Oh, don't cry, Thursa!" Arthur pleaded, with all the helplessness of +a man in the presence of tears. "Don't cry, dearest. You'll break my +heart if you cry the first day you come into your new home. I don't +want you to cook or work or do anything, only just stay with me and +love me and let me look at you--you are too beautiful to ever have to +work, darling." + +Contrary to her expectations, Thursa did not cry, but looked at +Arthur with a very shrewd expression on her pretty face. + +"I'd rather stay here and take a chance on it--that's a Canadian +word, too--than go back to the aunts and have to work antimacassars +and put up with them trailing around after me always--that was +perfectly maddening--but it seems to me--" she went over to Arthur's +new sideboard and looked critically into the glass--"it seems to me a +girl like me--you see I am not what you might call a fright, am I, +Arthur?--and here in Canada there are abundant opportunities for good +marriages--I think I really should do pretty well." + +Arthur stood beside her looking at her image in the glass. When her +meaning became clear he turned away hastily to hide the hurt her +words had given him. + +"You mean I am not good enough for you. You are quite right, I am +not. You are a queen among women, Thursa." + +"Queen nothing!" Thursa cried impatiently. "You make love like they +do it in Scott's novels. The aunts made me read it, and now I simply +loathe anything that sounds like it. Now, Mr. Smeaton said I was a +peach." + +Arthur consigned Mr. Smeaton and all such cads to a hotter climate. + +"Good for you, Arthur!" she said, laughing, "you can ride the high +horse, too. I like you like that. Now, Mr. Smeaton said----" + +"See here, Thursa," Arthur broke in, "did that cur make love to you?" + +"Madly," she said. + +"And you let him--and listened?" + +She clapped her hands and laughed merrily. + +"Listened? I didn't have to listen hard. He was near me, you know, +and he did make love so beautifully. I wish you could have heard +him." + +"I'd have bashed his head for him," Arthur said hotly. "Who is he, +anyway?" + +"He has a dry-goods store in Brandon. He's a linen-draper really, and +is only six-and-twenty, but he is awfully clever, and so charming. +When I sent you word that I was staying to see the shops I meant I +was staying to see his shop. He took me to his own home, and his +mother and sisters were lovely to me. He wanted me to marry him at +Montreal, and asked me again at North Bay, and twice in Winnipeg, and +I really forgot to count how many times he proposed to me in Brandon; +but I wanted to be perfectly fair, and would not marry him until I +had seen you." + +Arthur said not a word, but walked over to the eastern window. It was +a pleasant day in early winter. He could see the curls of smoke +rising from the neighbours' houses into the frosty air, and the long +gray wreath of it that the morning train had left still lay on the +Tiger Hills. A mirage had lifted the old spruce bush on the +Assiniboine into vision. Every mark on the landscape stung him with +remembrances of happy days when youth and love and hope were weaving +for him a glorious dream. + +He turned suddenly and caught her in his arms. "Don't go back on me, +Thursa! I won't give you up!" he cried. "He can't love you the way I +do. You haven't been in his mind, day and night, all these years. He +doesn't love you, dear, like I do, and he can't have you. I tell you, +I won't give you up. You are mine forever." + +Suddenly his arms, dropped and he put her away from him. "Let me +think a minute, Thursa," he said, in his usual tone. "This has come +on me suddenly. Stay here until I come back." + +Outside the cold, bracing air fanned his burning face. He stood on +the bank of the Plover Creek and looked with unseeing eyes around +him, and found himself thinking of the most trifling things--he +couldn't think about what he wanted to; his brain refused to act. +Suddenly there came over him a great calmness, and with it a strong +resolve. He would do the square thing. He loved Thursa, but there was +something stronger even than that--something that must be obeyed. + +When Arthur went back to the house his face was white with the +conflict, but his resolve was taken "Do you want to marry this +Brandon man, Thursa?" he asked. + +"I don't know. I am thinking. Don't hurry me now. I can't bear to be +hurried. That's where Aunt Honora and I never could agree; she +crowded me so. I am thinking very hard, really. Mr. Smeaton's offer +is still open. I was to let him know. Of course, Arthur, you are a +bishop's nephew, and that's something. Mr. Smeaton's family are all +in trade." + +"That does not matter in this country," said Arthur. "No, that's what +he said, too. He is so witty and clever. He said I could write to the +aunts that I had married the son of a leading M. P. of the West." + +"Is his father a Member of Parliament?" Arthur asked quickly. + +Thursa laughed delightedly. "M. P. stands for 'milk peddler,'" she +said. "Wasn't he adorable to think of that?" + +"Very clever indeed," Arthur said quietly. + +"We did have screaming fun over it. He said we would spell it +Smeatholym if it would make the aunts feel any easier, and he told me +I could tell them how brave he was--that he once slew a wild oryx. He +said he often drove a yoke of wild oryxen before him as gentle as +lambs. I know Aunt Constance would be deeply impressed with this. He +even went so far, Arthur--he was so deadly in earnest--to give me the +telegraph form to sign. It is all written if I decide to marry him." + +"Let me see it!" said Arthur. + +She opened her little bead purse and handed him a yellow telegraph +blank, on which was written: + + "Mr. John Smeaton, + "Rosser Avenue, + "Brandon, + "L. G. D. is past. O. for O." + +"What does it mean?" he asked. + +"You could never guess--it is so funny," she laughed. '"L. G. D.' is +'love's golden dream.' 'O. for O.' means 'open for offers.'" + +Arthur's face was twitching with pain and anger, but with wonderful +self-control he asked her again: + +"Do you want to marry this man?" + +"I think I do, Arthur. He's lovely." + +Arthur handed her his pencil and motioned to her to sign the blank. + +"Oh, Arthur!" she cried, "do you mean it? May I sign it? Do you not +mind?" + +She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him impulsively. Arthur +made no response to her embrace, but the perspiration stood out in +beads on his forehead. + +"Sign it," he said, almost roughly. He turned away his head, while +she signed her name. + +She watched him anxiously. Why didn't he speak? This was dreadfully +unpleasant. + +"Thursa," he said at last, "will you sing for me that Rosary song? +Just once. I want to hear it." + +She sang it, sweet and tender as ever, every word a caress. + +When she was done, he stood up and said very gently, but very sadly, +"I wanted to be sure it was not ever meant for me. A clean cut is the +easiest healed." + +He went to his phonograph records and picked out the "Rosary." Only +for a second he fondled it in his hand, then crushed it in pieces and +threw them into the fire. "There now, Thursa," he said steadily, +"that chapter is closed forever." + +She looked at him in astonishment. "Why don't you get excited and +threaten to shoot yourself and all that?" + +"Because I have no notion of doing it," he said. + +"Well, I do wish you would be a little bit melodramatic--this is +deadly uninteresting. I would have loved to write home something +really thrilling." + +"This is thrilling enough for me, Thursa," he answered. Then, after a +pause, he said, "Shall I send your telegram?" + +"Not just yet," she answered. "You see, Arthur, I want to be sure. I +know that Mr. Smeaton is lovely and all that, but I want to be sure +he is a gentleman. I want you to go and see him; Arthur. I will do +whatever you say." + +She came and put her hands on Arthur's shoulders and looked up at +him. + +"Arthur, I have not treated you very well, but you'll do this for me, +and if you find that he is not--" she hesitated--"I do not like to +speak of him in this way, it doesn't seem right to doubt him, and I +don't doubt him really; but you will do it, won't you, Arthur?" + +"I will not do it!" he cried. "Don't ask me to do this!" + +"And Arthur, if you come back and say that I must forget him, I will, +try to, and I will marry you and try to like all these horrid little +pots and pans. I truly will, and we will never speak of this again." + +She was looking into his face as she spoke, and there was an +earnestness in the depths of her violet eyes, a sweet womanliness, +that he had never seen before. + +"Oh, Thursa!" he cried, his voice quivering with tenderness. "You are +making it hard for me--how can I help but perjure myself to win you? +Any man would lie to you rather than lose you. Send some one else; I +can't do it. I can't come back and tell you he is worthy of you." + +Thursa drew his face down to hers and kissed his cheek. + +"Arthur, I know you, and I will trust you. You couldn't lie; you +don't know how, and you will do this, for me." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +IN HONOUR'S WAYS + + + O memories that bless and burn, + O barren gain and bitter loss, + I kiss each bead and try at last to learn + To kiss the cross. + + _----My Rosary._ + + +ARTHUR went to Brandon that night, presumably on business relating to +his house-furnishing. Not even Martha knew the nature of his visit to +the Wheat City. It was late in the evening when he arrived, so late +that he was unable to make any inquiries, but was forced to spend the +night in uncertainty, with only his own gloomy thoughts for company. +The varied night sounds of the city smote on his unaccustomed ear. +The long hall of the hotel echoed the passing of many feet; doors +slammed at intervals, and once a raucous voice called loudly for +"Towels for '53'"; from the room next his came the sound of talking +and laughter; farther down the hall a young baby cried dismally. +Through the babel of voices came the regular pink-pank of a banjo in +the parlour below. Outside, the wind raged against the frosted +windows, train-bells rang and whistles blew all night long, and the +pounding of horses' feet on the pavement never ceased--there seemed +to be one long procession of heavy drays passing down the street. + +In the quiet of his own house on Plover Creek Arthur had almost +forgotten the outside world that never sleeps--the rushing, careless, +inexorable world, that cannot be stayed or entreated. He had lived +his life in the country, and he loved its silent places, the kindly +silences of the country nights that lie so soothingly on the heart +and brain. To-night, the roar of the Brandon street was full of evil +significance, for this man, this interloper, whom his soul hated so +bitterly, was part of the great uncaring throng that surged past; +this rushing, jostling, aggressive life was what he stood for, this +man who had stolen from him his heart's dearest treasure. + +All night long Arthur lay staring into the darkness, trying to, fight +out the greatest battle of his life; on one side Thursa and the +memory of her kisses on his cheek, and on the other side honour and +honesty, and all the traditions of his house; sometimes telling +himself sternly that there was but one course open to him, and then, +suddenly overcome by his love for her, crying out bitterly that he +would never, never give her up. The pitch-black night seemed +interminable to him, but dawn came at last, deep blue behind the +frost-ferns on the window, slowly fading to pale azure, then suddenly +changing to rosiest pink as the sun rolled up over the sandhills of +the Assiniboine and sent his cheerful rays over an untroubled white +world. + +At half-past eight Arthur was walking the street. No one would +imagine, to look at the quietly dressed young Englishman, that he was +going through a severe mental struggle. Without any difficulty he +found the store for which he was looking. The words on the sign, "J. +C. Smeaton & Co., Dry Goods," in black and gold, seemed charged with +open hostility. + +A group of women stood in front of the door waiting for it to be +opened. They were looking longingly at the window display of lace +blouses, which were going to be sold, according to a staring sign, +at half the regular price. They were the typical bargain-hunters, +sharp-eyed and distrustful, and not particularly amiable. Early +rising on a cold winter morning is at the best no aid to amiability, +even if by the effort a ten-dollar blouse is bought for five. + +The waiting group were discussing sales in general, and one woman was +disposed to think that all sales were snares and delusions--she lived +on Eighteenth Street, and had had to get up very early. Another woman +exonerated herself from complicity in the matter of sales by saying +that her sister-in-law had telephoned her to come down and get her a +waist; she would never have come for herself, never! There was only +one real optimist in the crowd--of course, optimism does not usually +flourish before breakfast. She declared that Smeaton's sales were all +right. If Smeaton advertised a sale it was a sale. People could say +what they liked about Jack Smeaton, but she had always found him +straight as a string. + +Arthur hurried away--the woman's crude words of praise for the man he +hated struck him like a blow between the eyes. + +Arthur went first to a Church of England clergyman whom he knew +slightly, and made inquiries. The clergyman was unable to give any +information about the young man. He knew him well by sight, he said, +but he had never spoken to him. He directed Arthur to go to one of +the wardens of his church, a Mr. Bevan, who was one of the old-timers +in Brandon and knew everybody. + +To Mr. Bevan's office Arthur went, and waited there an hour, for the +senior member of the firm of Bevan & Wallace, real estate brokers, +did not begin the day very early. However, he did come at last, and +looked sharply at Arthur's eager face as he made known his business. + +"Smeaton?" Mr. Bevan cried, when Arthur was through speaking. "What +do I know about young Jack Smeaton? What do you know about him? If +you can tell me anything that he has been up to that is very bad, +I'll be glad to hear it, the cheeky young beggar. Think of it! Last +fall he went out making political speeches--I heard him! He's a rabid +Grit, too, will stop at nothing to get a vote. Oh, yes, I know Jack +Smeaton." + +"Would you call him a man of honour?" Arthur asked. + +"Man of honour?" the old man cried excitedly. "Bless your heart, what +have I just told you? Didn't I say he was a Grit? Why don't you +listen, man, to what I am telling you?" His voice fell to a +confidential whisper. "Young Jack Smeaton is one of the strongest +Grits in this city, and he has a very great influence on the young +men, for they like him, mind you. Oh, he is a bad one, a deep one, +and don't you forget it." + +"Would you consider him a man worthy of trust?" Arthur said eagerly, +trying to pierce through the old man's political prejudice. + +"Trust!" the other man repeated, scorn, wonder, contempt in +his voice. "Young man, where were you at the time of the last +election? You talk like a man from Mars. Didn't you hear about the +ballot-stuffing that went on here? How do you suppose the Grits +carried this constituency? No, sir; I would not trust him, or any +of them." + +Arthur rose to go. + +"My advice to you, young man, is to have no dealings with Jack +Smeaton. He's pretty nearly sure to influence you, for, mind you, he +has a way with him." + +Arthur walked back to his room at the hotel with many conflicting +emotions struggling in his heart. Jack Smeaton was evidently a man of +strong character, and a flirtation such as he had carried on with +Thursa would mean nothing to him--he had probably forgotten it by +this time. Couldn't he honestly go back and tell Thursa that one of +the church-wardens, to whom the clergyman had sent him for +information, had told him emphatically to have nothing to do with +Jack Smeaton? Thursa would ask to know nothing further. She had said, +with that sweet look in her face, that if he came back and told her +to forget this fellow she would marry him and do her best. Arthur +recalled every tone of her dear voice, the touch of her soft little +hands, as she drew his face down to hers when she said this. Thursa +was his own. She had come from England as his affianced wife. What +right had this adventurer to steal her away from him? Arthur clenched +his fists and raged at the man who had done him this injury. He would +go back to Thursa in the morning, and they would be happy yet. This +man's name would never be mentioned again. + +Arthur was not nearly so happy in this resolve as he expected to be. +There was a distinct uneasiness in his heart that increased as the +day went on. At five o'clock he stood outside the Smeaton store, to +which he seemed drawn by a strange fascination. The man who was so +largely in his thoughts was, no doubt, only a few feet away from him, +happy, careless, prosperous, arrogant, having his own way by hook or +crook. The clock struck the half-hour. The store would be closed six. + +Arthur started back to the hotel. What did he care when the store +closed? It was nothing to him. At the corner of Rosser and Eighth +Street some Salvation Army people were holding a meeting, and as he +passed through the crowd the tinkle of their cymbals in a familiar +tune came to his ear. Then a dozen voices, clear and distinct, broke +into singing: + + If some poor wandering child of Thine, + Has spurned to-day the voice divine, + Now, Lord, the gracious work begin, + Let him no more lie down in sin. + +It brought him back to the old life at home, this dear old hymn of +his childhood, with its old-fashioned, monotonous tune, and it +awakened in his consciousness the voices he was trying hard to +silence. A light shone in upon him and showed him a straight path, a +hard road, set with thorns, which he must follow. The colour suddenly +went from Arthur's face as he realized which way the path of honour +led. + + Abide with me from morn till eve, + For without Thee I cannot live. + +sang the Army, while Arthur, pale and trembling on the outer edge of +the crowd, leaned against a lamppost for support. He did not hear the +words they were singing, but the old tune beat into heart and brain +the memories of his home and childhood. He saw his father's saintly +face, proud and strong, unstained by any compromise with evil, and it +called to him across the sea to play the man. + +The Army had sung the hymn all through, and now they were kneeling in +prayer; a thin-voiced girl led the petitions, while the others, +frequently interjected exclamations of thanksgiving. Arthur did not +hear a word of it, but into his troubled heart there came peace and +the strength of God, which alone is able to make a man swear to his +own hurt. + +He walked rapidly back to the store he had left and asked to see Mr. +Smeaton. Mr. Smeaton had his hat and coat on, about to leave the +store, but he came back, and, taking Arthur into his office, offered +him a chair. + +Arthur remained standing, and, without speaking, gave the young man a +searching glance. What he saw was a muscular young fellow, of about +his own age, with clear gray eyes and curling brown hair. He was +faultlessly dressed, and had an unmistakably straightforward +expression and countenance. + +"What can I do for you?" the young merchant asked. + +Without a word Arthur took from his pocket Thursa's telegram. His +hand trembled, and he had a queer, dizzy feeling as he did it, but he +put it safely in the other man's hand. + +Away across the sea, in the Rectory of St. Agnes, a gray-haired +father and mother were praying for their boy so far away, and their +prayer for him that day was not that he might have wealth, or ease, +or fame, or the praise of men, nor that he might always gain his +heart's desire--not that at all; they asked for him a greater gift +still--that he might always walk in honour's ways. + +Jack Smeaton's face was illumined with joy as he read Thursa's +telegram. + +"Did she send me this? Where is she? I want to see her--who are you?" +he asked, all in one breath. + +Something in Arthur's face told him who he was. "You are Arthur," he +said gently. + +Arthur nodded. + +The two young men stood looking at each other, but for a full minute +neither spoke. + +"I have only one question to ask you, Mr. Smeaton," Arthur said at +last. "Do you love her?" + +"I do," the other man replied, "as God hears me." And Arthur, looking +into his clear gray eyes, believed him, and his last hope vanished. + +"I feel like a miserable sneak in your presence," Jack Smeaton said +humbly. "Upon my word, that enchanting little beauty turned my brain. +Isn't she the most bewitching little girl in all the world?" + +"I have always thought so," Arthur said quietly. "I have behaved +badly to you, Mr.----" + +"Wemyss," Arthur said. + +"Mr. Wemyss, and I humbly apologize." + +"It is not necessary," Arthur said, with an effort. "Her happiness is +the only thing to be considered. She was only a child when she gave +me her promise, only seventeen, and I can see now that she would not +be happy with me." + +"Come with me now, Mr. Wemyss. I want you to meet my people. They +will be glad to have you stay for dinner." + +"Thank you," Arthur said, trying hard to speak naturally. "I would +rather not." + +"I shall go back with you to-morrow, if I may," Mr. Smeaton said. "I +cannot just say to you all that is in my heart, but you have taught +me a lesson on what it is to be a gentleman." + +He held out his hand, which Arthur took without hesitation, and they +parted. + +That night as Jack Smeaton was selecting a pearl necklace for Thursa, +along with all sorts of other beautiful gifts, he was pondering +deeply one thought--that perhaps, after all, successive generations +of gentle breeding do count for something in the make-up of a man, +and having a bishop in the family may help a little, too. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +THE WEDDING + + + Life? 'Tis the story of love and troubles + Of troubles and love that travel together + The round world through. + + _----Joaquin Miller._ + + +WHEN Arthur and Jack Smeaton arrived at the Perkins home the next +morning, and announced that the wedding would take place at once, +Mrs. Perkins, without waiting for further details, made an emergency +visit to the hen-house and slew six chickens--there could be no +wedding without fried chicken. Then she came back to find out who was +to be the groom. + +Mr. Perkins was hurriedly despatched for Pearl Watson, who was to be +the bridesmaid, and Mr. and Mrs. Watson and Aunt Kate, who were to be +the guests. Mr. Perkins, who had refused to leave the house without +being dressed in his "other" suit, was in the hilarious humour that +went with his good clothes when he reached the Watson home. + +"By golly! John," he said, "that Arthur's a game one, and don't you +forget it--he's simply handed his girl over to the other fellow; and +I tell you he's done it handsome, just as cool and cheerful about it +as if he liked the job. The little girl there, that Thursa, she's +pretty enough to make men draw their shootin'-irons on each other. +I'm fifty-three year old myself, but, by jingo! I was proud to be +seen walkin' down the street with her yesterday in Millford; she +drove in with me, and we walked around a bit. She had a hat as big as +a waggon wheel, carrying as many plumes as a hearse. Whew! You should +'a' seen the people lookin' at us. She took my arm, mind ye, John; +and say, now, I can't understand Arthur bringin' that other gent +right back with him. Arthur went up to find out about this fellow, if +he was the straight goods, and all that--she told me the hull thing +yesterday. It was a secret, she said, but she just told me and the +missus and Martha--she didn't see any one else--and she was that glad +to-day when she saw this 'Jack' fellow that she kissed him and kissed +Arthur, too--a kind of overflow meetin' his was--I stood around handy +by, but she over-looked me some way; and then her and Jack went into +the parlour to decide who was goin' to be boss and a few things like +that, and I'll be blessed if Arthur didn't pitch right in to help +Martha and the missus to get dinner ready. Never winked an eyelash, +that fellow--the English have great grit, when you get a nice one. So +hurry along now, we'll have to rustle. The minister's comin' at +twelve o'clock sharp, and they're goin' away on the afternoon train. +He's a right smart-lookin' fellow, this Jack--the little girl's doin' +well, all right, all right; he maybe hasn't got as good a pedigree as +Arthur, but he'll suit her better. She won't sass back to him, I'll +bet, the way she would to Arthur. She'd give Arthur a queer old time, +I know, but this chap'll manage her; he's got that sort of a way with +him. I could see it, though I was only speakin' a few words to him." + +* * * + +Pearl was dressed in her cream silk dress, and carried a bouquet of +roses. + +"Land sakes!" Aunt Kate exclaimed, "where does anyone get roses at +this time o' year, I'd like to know? + +"I lived in Ontario many a year, and that's what I never saw was roses +in December. They must 'a' had a sheltered place to grow in." And +every person who heard her was too loyal a Manitoban to enlighten +her. + +Thursa, in a trailing gown of white silk mull, came into the parlour +leaning on Arthur's arm, and made the responses as demurely as the +staid Aunt Prudence would have desired. Any one looking at Arthur's +unmoved face would never have guessed at the tragedy that was taking +place in the young man's heart. + +The wedding breakfast was a very jolly meal, and everybody, Arthur +included, was in the best of humour. Young Jack Smeaton clearly +demonstrated that the old lawyer had expressed the truth when he +said: "Jack Smeaton has a way with him." He discussed the various +knitting wools with Mrs. Perkins, and told Thomas Perkins a new way +of putting formalin on his seed-wheat to get rid of the smut, and how +to put patches on grain bags with flour paste. Mrs. Perkins told very +vividly the story of Mary Ann Corbett's wedding, where the bridegroom +failed 'to appear, and she married her first love, who was acting in +the capacity of best man, and the old man Corbett gave them the deed +of one hundred and fifty acres of land, and a cow and a feather bed, +and some other tokens of paternal affection, and they lived happy +ever afterward. + +While she was telling this, her husband, in his usual graphic way, +told his story, which happened to be on this occasion an account of +the death of his old friend, Tony Miner; which had happened the +winter before. + +"The last words Tony said--mind ye, he was sensible to the last--was +to tell his missus not to let the undertaker do her on the price of +the coffin. He was a very savin' man, was Tony, but he needn't have +worried, for the old lady could see a hole in a ladder as quick as +most people, and even an undertaker couldn't get ahead of her. The +old lady went herself and picked out the coffin. They sent it out in +a box, of course, with Tony's name on it in big black letters, and +when they charged her a dollar for the box she wanted them to take it +back, but they said they couldn't when it had the name on it; but I +tell you, she's a savin' woman, and no wonder Tony died rich. She +wasn't goin' to let the box go to waste when it cost money, so she +made a door for the hen-house out of it, and there it is yet, with +'Anthony Miner' in big black letters on it. Some say she's goin' to +make it answer for a headstone, but I don't know about that. She's a +fine savin' woman, and no one can say she is superstitious anyway, or +filled with false pride." + +The two stories ran concurrently and filled in most of the time at +the table. Mr. Perkins did not believe in having awkward pauses or +any other kind. + +Pearl could not help noticing the glow "on Martha's cheek and the +sympathetic way she had of watching Arthur. + +"My, but women are queer," Pea thought to her self. "Here's Martha, +now, glad as glad that the other fellow has got Thursa, and still +feelin' so sorry for Arthur she can't eat her vittles. Wasn't it fine +that Martha had so' much good stuff cooked in the house and was able +to set up such a fine meal at a minute's notice? I wonder if it ever +strikes Arthur what a fine housekeeper she is? I'll bet Miss +Thursa'll never be able to bake a jenny Lind cake like this, or jell +red currants so you can cut them with a knife." + +Thursa and Jack left on the five o'clock train. It was a heavy, misty +day, the kind that brings a storm, and the loose snow that lay on the +ground needed only a strong enough wind to make a real Manitoba +blizzard. + +The bride and groom, with Arthur and Martha, drove in the Perkins +double cutter. Dr. Clay, who had not been able to come to the +wedding, came out afterward, and he and Pearl drove behind. + +At the station there was only time for a hurried good-bye. Thursa +seemed to take a more serious view of life, now that the real parting +had come. She held Arthur's hand in a close grasp. "You've behaved +awfully decent, Arthur," she said earnestly. + +Arthur smiled bravely and thanked her. + +The last to say good-bye were Jack and Arthur. It was an embarrassing +moment for both of them, but their handclasp was warm and genuine, +and Jack said in a low voice: "I'll try to be worthy of her, old man, +and of you." + +Arthur spoke not a word. + +The train pulled out of the station and made its way slowly over the +long Souris bridge. They watched it wind up the steep grade until it +was hidden by a turn of the hill, and even then they stood listening +to the hoarse boom of the whistle that came down the misty valley. +The wind, that seemed to be threatening all day, came whistling down +the street, driving before it little drifts of snow as they turned +away from the station platform. + +Dr. Clay took Pearl over to Mrs. Francis, where she was to stay for +the night. Arthur and Martha drove home in silence. When they reached +the door Martha said: "Come in, Arthur, and stay; don't try to get +your own supper to-night." + +Arthur roused himself with an effort. "I think I'll go home, Martha, +thank you." + +Mr. Perkins came out and helped Arthur to put away the team. Martha +stood watching him as he walked across the field to his own little +lonely house. The snow was drifting in clouds across the fields, and +sometimes hid him from sight, but Martha stood straining her eyes for +the last glimpse of him. Her heart was full of tenderness for him, a +great, almost motherly tenderness, for he was suffering, and he was +lonely, and her heart's greatest desire was to help him. + +Arthur went bravely back to his own desolate house--the house that he +had built with such loving thoughts. The fire was dead, like his own +false hopes, and the very ticking of the clock seemed to taunt him +with his loss. The last time he had been here she was with him. It +was there beside the window that she had told him about this man; it +was there she had kissed him, and he had held her close to his heart +for one sweet moment; it was there he had fought so hard to give +her up. But he loved her still, and would always love her, the +violet-eyed Thursa, the sweetheart of his boyish dreams. + +He made an attempt to light the fire, but it would not burn--it was +like everything else, he told himself, it was against him. He went +out and fed his horses and made them comfortable for the night, and +then came back to his deserted house, dark now, and chilly and +comfortless. + +With the light of his lantern he saw something white on the floor. +He picked it up listlessly, and then the odour of violets came to +him--it was Thursa's hand-kerchief, that she had dropped that day. He +buried his face in it, and groaned. + +The wind had risen since sunset, and now the snow sifted drearily +against his windows. Down the chimney came the weird moaning of the +storm, sobbing and pitiful sometimes, and then angry and defiant. He +sat by the black stove with his overcoat on, holding the little +handkerchief against his lips, while the great, bitter sobs of +manhood tore their way through his heart. + +All night long, while the storm raged around the little house and +rattled every door and window, he sat there numb with cold and dumb +with sorrow. The lantern burned out, unnoticed. At daylight he threw +himself across the bed, worn out with grief and loneliness, and slept +a heavy sleep, still holding the violet-scented handkerchief to his +lips. + +* * * + +When Arthur woke the sun was pouring in through the frosted windows. +He got up hastily and took off his overcoat; he was stiff and +uncomfortable. He went hurriedly out to his little kitchen, thinking +of the horses, which needed his care. An exclamation of surprise +burst from his lips. + +A bright fire was burning in the stove, and a delicious odour of +frying ham came to his nostrils. His table was set with a white +cloth, and on it was placed a dainty enough breakfast to tempt the +appetite of any man. + +He went hurriedly to the door and looked out--there were tracks +through the high drifts of snow! He turned back to the table and +poured himself a cup of steaming coffee. "Dear old Martha," he said, +"she is a jolly good sort!" + +Arthur was gloriously hungry, and ate like a hunter. It was his first +square meal for more than twenty-four hours, and every bite of it +tasted good to him. "I never even thanked Martha for all her +kindness," he said, when he was done; "but that's the beauty of +Martha, she understands without being told." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +A SAIL! A SAIL! + + + The buds may blow and the fruit may grow + And the autumn leaves drop crisp and sere; + But whether the rain or the sun or the snow, + There is ever a song somewhere, my dear. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +THE first week after Thursa's marriage Arthur kept to his own house, +and the neighbours, with fine' tact, stayed away. Many and varied +were the ways they took of showing the sincerity of their sympathy. A +roast of "spare ribs," already cooked, was left one day mysteriously +on his door-step; the next day a jar of pincherry jelly and a roll of +jelly-cake were there. His mail was brought to him daily by one or +other of the neighbours, and when it seemed to John Green's kind +heart that Arthur's mail was very small and uninteresting, he brought +over several back numbers of the Orillia Packet, one of which +contained obituary verses that his own cousin had composed, and which +Mr. Green marked with wavy ink lines, so that Arthur would be sure to +see them. Mr. Green thought that his cousin's lachrymal symposium on +the uncertainty of all things human should be very comforting to +Arthur in his present mental state. Little parcels, too, came +mysteriously through the mail to Arthur. One day it was a pair of +socks, from an anonymous contributor; another time there came a pair +of woollen mittens, red and blue, done in that intricate pattern +which is known to the elect as "Fox and Geese." A little slip of +paper, pinned on the wrist of one, stated that they were "from a +friend," and Arthur shrewdly suspected that Aunt Kate Shenstone had +sent them. The evil significance of the gift was not known to the +giver, and not noticed by the recipient. + +These new evidences of neighbourly solicitude carried the intended +message, for they brought to his mind the comfort of knowing that +there were loyal-hearted friends all around him who were sincerely +sorry for his disappointment. + +It was a week before Arthur left his own house, and then he went for +his bread to the Perkins home. If he had not been so burdened with +his own trouble he would surely have noticed how carefully Martha was +dressed, how light her step, how happy her face. The tiny speck on +the horizon had been a sail, sure enough. It might not be coming her +way--it might never see the shipwrecked sailor--but it was a sail! + +Pearlie Watson, the very day after the wedding, began to do some +hard thinking on Martha's behalf. One fact--stood out above all +others--there was a chance for Martha now, if she could only qualify. + +Pearl talked it over with her Aunt Kate, who was a woman of the +world, and had seen many marriages and much giving in marriage. Aunt +Kate was hopeful, even confident, of the outcome of the present case. + +"Of course Martha'll get him!" she said. "Why shouldn't she? I never +in all my life seen better hard soft soap than what she makes, and +her bread is as light as a feather, you could make a meal of it; and +now since she's took to fluffin' her hair, and dressin' up so' nice, +she's a good enough lookin' girl. She ain't as educated as he is, of +course, but land alive! you couldn't beat that hard soft soap of +hers, no matter what education you had." + +Pearl shook her head and wished that she could share her aunt's +optimism, but she felt that something more than a knowledge of +soap-making was needed for a happy married life. On her way to school +she thought about it so hard that it seemed to her that any one +coming behind her would be sure to find some of her thoughts in the +snow. + +Mr. Donald, who saw that something was troubling her, inquired the +cause of her worried face. + +"Of course, I do not want to know if it is a secret, Pearl," he said; +"but it may be that I could help you if I knew all about it." + +Pearl looked at him before replying. + +"It isn't a secret that I was told and promised, not to tell. It is +something that I found out by accident, or, at least, all by my own +self, and still it's not to be talked about, only among friends." + +Mr. Donald nodded. + +Pearl went on: "Maybe now you're just the one that could help me. I +believe I will tell you all about it." + +This was at recess. The children were out playing "shinney." They +could hear the shouts of the contending sides. Pearl told him her +hopes and fears regarding Martha. "Martha's all right at heart, you +bet," she concluded; "she's good enough for Arthur or any one, +really. If she had vulgar ways or swore when she got mad, or sassed +her Ma, or told lies, or was stingy or mean or anything like that, it +would be far worse and harder to get rid of, because nothing but a +miracle of grace will cast out the roots of sin, and then even it is +a big risk to marry any one like that, because you're never sure but +one tiny little root may be left, and in due season it may bust up +and grow." + +"It may, indeed," Mr. Donald said, smiling. Then he added, when his +smile had faded: "'Bust up and grow' are the words to express it." + +"But if Martha could only get smoothed up in education, and know +about William the Conqueror, and what causes tides, and could talk a +little more and answer back a little smarter like, it would be all +right, I do believe." + +"I have known men to marry uneducated women, and be very fond of +them, too," said Mr. Donald thoughtfully. "Some of the Hudson's Bay +factors married squaws." + +"I know," Pearl agreed. "Old Louie Baker, the surveyor's guide, told +Pa about his squaw, Rosie. He Eked Rosie fine, and thought she was +real pretty when there wasn't a white woman in sight, but when the +white women began to come into the country he got ashamed of poor +Rosie, and every day she seemed to get dirtier and greasier, and her +toes turned in more; and, anyway, Mr. Donald, it's hard for a woman +to feel that she isn't just up to the mark. Gettin' married ain't all +there is to it, you bet. It's only in books that they say people git +married, and leave it like that, for that's when the real hard times +begin--keepin' it up and makin' it turn out well. That's the hard +part." + +Mr. Donald looked at her in wonder. "You have wisdom beyond your +years, Pearl," he said gravely. + +"All Martha needs is more education, and there's lots of it lyin' +around loose--it's stickin' out of every-thing--it's in the air and +on the ground, and all over, and it seems too bad if Martha can't +grab holt of some of it, and her so anxious for it." + +"The well is deep, and she has nothing to draw with," the +schoolmaster quoted absently. + +Pearl recognized the words, and quickly answered: "Do you mind that +the woman was wrong about that when she said there was nothing to +draw with? Well, now, I believe Martha has something to draw with, +too--she has you and me, so she has. You have the education that +Martha needs. I'm gettin' it every day. Can't you and I pass it on to +Martha?" + +"How, Pearl?" he asked. + +"I don't know just yet. I haven't got it thought out that far. But +there's some way, there's always some way to help people." + +It was time to call school then, and no more was said until the next +day, when Mr. Donald said to Pearl: "I believe events are coming our +way. Mrs. Steadman told me last night that she was going to Ontario +for three months, and I am to go elsewhere to board. I wonder would +Mrs. Perkins take me in?" + +Pearl gave an exclamation of joy. "Would she?" she cried. "You bet +she would, and you could help Martha every night. Isn't it just dandy +the way things happen?" + +That night Pearl went to see Martha on her way home from school. +Pearl was to find out if the teacher would be taken to board. + +Martha was alone in the house, her father and mother having gone to +Millford. When Pearl knocked at the door, Martha opened it. A +spelling-book was in her hand, which she laid down hurriedly. + +Pearl made known her errand. It was too good to be delayed. + +"Say, Martha, isn't it great? He'll help you every night--he can tell +you the most interesting things--he gets lots of newspapers and +magazines, and he knows about electricity and politics and poetry and +everything, and a person can get educated just by listening to him." + +Martha stood looking at Pearl a minute, then suddenly threw her arms +around her. "You are my good angel, Pearl Watson!" she cried. "You +are always bringing me good things. Of course we'll take him, and be +glad to have him; and I'll listen to him, you may be sure; and Pearl, +I just can't help telling you that I'm so happy now--I can't tell you +how happy I am." + +Martha's brimming eyes seemed to contradict her words, but Pearl, who +understood something of the springs of the heart, understood. + +"I can't help being happy," Martha went on. "I tell myself that it's +wicked for me to feel so glad Thursa's gone, when he's so miserable +over it. But she wouldn't ever have suited him, would she, Pearl? +She'd have made him miserable before long, and herself, too; but +that's not all the reason that I'm glad she's gone," she added, +truthfully. + +Martha's face was hidden on Pearl's shoulder as she said this. + +"I know about it," Pearl said. "I found it all out that day when you +were showing me the room, and I'm just as pleased as you are, or +pretty near. Of course, it would never have done for him to marry +Thursa, and the way it all turned out would convince any one that +Providence ain't feelin' above takin' a hand in people's affairs. She +was nice and pretty, and all that, but she's the kind that would +always have sour bread, and you bet, sour bread cuts love; she'd be +just like Dave Elder's wife, it tires her dreadful to sweep the +floor; but she can go to three dances a week, and then she lies on +the lounge all day and says her nerves are bad. But, Martha, you do +right to be glad. It's never wrong to be happy. God made everything +to have a good time. Look at the gophers and birds, and even the +mosquitoes--they have a bang-up time while it lasts. We've got to be +happy every chance we get. Whenever you see it passin' by take a grab +at it. I mind, when I was a wee little thing, I had a piece of bright +blue silk that I had found, and it was just lovely; it put me through +a whole winter takin' a look at it now and then. I had to stay at +home while Ma was washing, and it was pretty cold in the house +sometimes, but the blue silk kept me heartened up. It's just like a +piece on Arthur's phonograph--here and there in it there's a little +tinklin' song, so sweet and liltin' it just cuts into yer heart; but, +mind you, you don't get much o' that at a time. There's all kinds of +clatterin' crash, smash, and jabber on both sides of it, cuttin' in +on both ends of it, and just when yer gettin' tired of rough house, +in she sails again sweeter than ever, just puttin' yer heart +crossways with the sweetness of it. It keeps ringin' in my ears all +the time, that dear little ripplin', tinklin' tune, and perhaps it +needed all that gusty buzzin' and rip-roarin' to drive the sweetness +clean into you. That's the way it is always; Martha; we've got to +listen for the little song whenever we can hear it." + +"I am listening to it all the time, Pearl," Martha said softly. "It +may not be meant for me at all, but it is sweet while it lasts, and I +can't help hearing it, can I, Pearl?" + +Pearl kissed her friend warmly and whispered words of hope, and then, +fearing that this might be faith without works, heard her spell a +page of words from Bud's old speller. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +MARTHA'S STRONG ARGUMENTS + + + "How does love speak?" + + +THE next week Mr. Donald moved over to the Perkins home. His trunks +had been sent over in the morning, and after school he walked home +with Pearl. Mr. Donald had seen Martha at the services in the +schoolhouse, but had not spoken to her. Pearl now brought him in +triumphantly and introduced him to Mrs. Perkins and Martha. + +The cleanliness and comfort of the big square kitchen, with its +windows filled with blooming plants, the singing canary, the +well-blackened range with its cheerful squares of firelight, the +bubbling tea-kettle, all seemed to promise rest and comfort. Martha, +neatly dressed in a dark blue house dress, with dainty white collar +and apron, greeted, him hospitably, and told, him she hoped he would +be comfortable with them. There was no trace of awkwardness in her +manner, only a shy reserve that seemed to go well with her steady +gray eyes and gentle voice. Pearl was distinctly proud of Martha. + +When Mr. Donald went up to his room he looked around him in pleased +surprise. It was only a small room, but it was well-aired, and had +that elusive, indescribable air of comfort which some rooms have, and +others, without apparent reason, have not. The stovepipe from the +kitchen range ran through it, giving it ample warmth. His room at +Mrs. Steadman's had been of about the temperature of a well. It was +with a decided feeling of satisfaction that the school-master hung +his overcoat on a hook behind the door and sat down in the cushioned +rocking-chair. A rag carpet, gaily striped in red, green, and yellow, +covered the floor, and a tawny wolf-skin lay in front of the bed. + +"This looks good to me," said the schoolmaster, stretching himself +luxuriously in his chair and enjoying the warmth of the room, with +the pleasant feeling that at last he had one little spot that he +could call his own, where he could sit and read and think, or, if he +wanted to, just sit and be comfortable. From below came the pleasant +rattle of dishes and an appetizing odour of baking chicken. + +Mr. Donald went to the wash-stand, and washed his hands, smiling +pleasantly to himself. "Martha, like you," he was saying, "and I'll +gladly make a deal with you. I have quite a stock of history and +geography and literature and other things which we call knowledge, +and I will gladly, part with it for just such things as these," +looking around him approvingly. "Give me cream on my porridge, +Martha, and I'll teach you all I know and more." A few minutes later +Mr. Donald went down to supper. + +Mr. Perkins did the honours of the table, and each wore his coat +while he carved the chicken, as a token of respect for the new +boarder. He hospitably urged Mr. Donald to eat heartily, though there +was no special need of urging him, for Martha's good cooking and +dainty serving were proving a sufficient invitation. + +Mr. Perkins was in fine fettle, and gave a detailed account of the +visit he and Sam Motherwell made to Winnipeg to interview the +Department of Education about the formation of the Chicken-Hill +School District. Mr. Donald was much amused by his host's description +of the "Big Chief" of educational matters. + +"You see, I knowed cousins of his down below, near Owen Sound," Mr. +Perkins said, "though I didn't see that he favoured them at all at +first; but when I got a look at him between the ears I could see +the very look of the old man his uncle. Maybe you've seen him, +have you? Long-faced, lantern-jawed old pelter, with a face like a +coffin--they're the kind you have to look out for; they'd go through +you like an electric shock! Well, sir, Sam and me was sittin' there +on the edge of our chairs, and that old rack o' bones just riddled us +with questions. Sam got suspicious that there was a job gittin' put +up on us some way, and so he wouldn't say a word for fear it would +raise the taxes, and that left all the talkin' to me. Now, I don't +mind carryin' on a reasonable conversation with any one, but, by +jinks, nobody could talk to that man. I tried to get a chance to tell +him about knowin' his folks, and a few amusin' things that came to me +about the time his uncle Zeb was married and borrowed my father's +black coat for the occasion, but, land alive, he never let up on his +questions. He asked me every blamed thing about every family in the +neighbourhood. He had the map of the township right before him, and +wrote down everything I told him nearly. I was scared to death we +hadn't enough children to get the Gover'ment grant, and so I had to +give twins to the Steadmans twice, both pairs of school age. I wasn't +just sure of how many we needed to draw the grant, but I was bound to +have enough to be sure of it. Sam Motherwell's no good to take along +with you at a time like that; he kinda gagged when I gave George the +second pair of twins, and when the old man went out he went at me +about it, and said it was not a decent way to treat a neighbour and +him not there to deny it. I told him: 'My land sakes alive! I hadn't +said nothin' wrong about either George Steadman or the twins; and +it's no disgrace to have 'em. Plenty of good people have twins.' + +"Well, sir, when the old man came back he asked me a whole string of +questions about them two pair of twins, just as if everything +depended on them. I had to name them first thing. I got the girls all +right--Lily and Rose I called them--but when he asked me about the +boys I couldn't think of anything that would do for the boys except +'Buck' and 'Bright.' Of course I explained that them wasn't really +their names, but that's what everyone called them, they were such +cute little chaps and looked just alike, only Buck toed in a little. +I kicked Sam to pitch in and tell something about their smart ways, +but he just sat like a man in a dream; he never seemed to get over +his surprise at them comin'. All this time the old lad was leafin' +over a great big book he had, and askin' the greatest lot of fool +questions about the twins. I told him that Lily and Rose was pretty +little things with yalla hair and they sang 'The Dyin' Nun' at a +concert we had in the church at Millford somethin' grand; and the two +boys were the greatest lads, I said, to trap gophers--terrible shame +not to have a school for them. Then the old chap looked at me, and +his face seemed to be as long as a horse's, an' he says, lookin' +square at me: 'I'm real glad you told me about Mr. Steadman's twins, +because it's the first we've heard of them. Mr. Steadman is a mightly +careless man to only register two children--Thomas J., born October +20, 1880, and Maud Mary, born sick a time 1882, and not a single +entry of the twins, either pair; and here the first we hear of them +is when they begin to feel the need of an education--Buck and Bright +trappin' gophers, and Lily and Rose delightin' large audiences with +'The Dyin' Nun' and other classic gems. Any father might well be +proud of them. I'll write to Mr. Steadman and tell him just what I +think of such carelessness. Even if Buck does toe in a little that's +no reason why him and his runnin' mate shouldn't have a place in the +files of his country. I'll mention to Mr. Steadman that we're deeply +indebted to his friend and neighbour for putting us right in regard +to his family tree. + +"Well, Sir, I could see I had put my foot in it up to the knee, but I +was game, you bet, and looked back at him as cool as a cucumber. I +wasn't going to go back on them twins now when I had brought them +into the world, as you might say; so I just said George Steadman was +kinda careless about some things, he'd been cluttered up with +politics for quite a while, and I guess he'd overlooked having the +kids registered, but I'd speak to him about it. I'm a pretty good +bluffer myself, but I couldn't fool that man. His face seemed to me +to get longer every minute, and says he, when we were coming away, +'Give my love to the twins, Mr. Perkins, both pair--interestin' +children, I'm sure they are.' + +"My land sakes alive, you should have heard Motherwell pitch into me +when we got out. Sam was as huffy about it as a wet hen. + +"It's no good tryin' to fool them lads. I got my lesson that time, if +I'd just had sense enough to know it; but if you believe me, sir, I +got caught again. (Eh, what's that? Have another piece of chicken.) +It was when I went to Montreal to see about the lump in my jaw. Did +ye hear about the trouble we had that year, summer of '87? Big crop, +but frozen--forty-seven cents, by George, best you could do. Well, +sir, didn't I take a lump in my jaw--just like you've seen in those +mangy steers. It wasn't very big at first, but it grooved something +awful. I got a bottle of Mason's Lump jaw cure, but it just peeled +the hide off me, and the lump grew bigger than ever. The missus here +got scared she was goin' to lose me, and nothin' would do her but +that I'd have to go to Montreal to see Dr. Murray. Now, I've always +heard that he's awful easy on poor men, but takes it out of the rich +ones, so you can bet I went prepared to put up a hard-luck story. I +wore a boiled shirt, goin' down, but you bet I peeled it off before I +went to see him, and I told him a pretty likely story about livin' on +a rented farm, and me with a big family, most of them sickly like +their ma's folks. He seemed awful sorry for me and wrote down my name +and where I lived, and all that, and by George, I began to think he +was goin' to pay my way back or give me the price of a cow or +somethin'. He husked out the lump quick enough, had me come at seven +o'clock--that man gets up as early as a farmer--and when I came to +settle up he says to me: 'Mr. Perkins, if I was you I wouldn't live +on a rented farm any longer. I'd go on one of my own--the north half +of seventeen there--what's the matter with that? My secretary tells +me you own that and there's two hundred acres under cultivation, and +then there's that quarter-section of yours just across the +Assiniboine, where you keep your polled Angus cattle. It really seems +too bad for you to be grubbin along on a rented farm when you have +four hundred and eighty acres of your own--good land, too.' Then he +laughed, and I knew I was up against it, and I tried to laugh, too, +but my laugh wasn't near as hearty as his. Then he says: 'It do beat +all how many poor men with large sickly families, livin' on rented +farms, come here to see me; but'--says; he, gittin' close up to me, +and kinda tappin' me on the shoulder 'did you ever hear about an +angel writin' in a big book--writin' steady day and night? Well, says +he, 'here's one of them books,' and he whipped over the pages and +showed me my name, where I lived and all. 'Ye can't fool the angels,' +says he, 'and now I'll just trouble you for an even hundred,' says +he. 'I have had three workin'-girls in to see me about their eyes +today, and I done them free. I was writin' for some one like you to +come along and settle for them when he was settlin' for his own. I +paid it without a kick, you bet. Don't it beat the cars? Eh? What?" + +Mr. Donald laughed heartily and agreed with Mr. Perkins that honesty +was the best policy. + +While her father was telling his story Martha sat thinking her own +thoughts. She had listened to his reminiscences so often that they +had long ago ceased to interest her. The schoolmaster studied her +face closely. "No wonder she is quiet," he thought to himself, "she +has never had a chance to talk. There is no room in the conversation +for any one else when her voluble parent unfurls his matchless +tongue. Martha cannot or does not talk for the same reason that +people that live in the dark in time lose the power to see, because +they haven't had it to do." + +That night Arthur came over for his bread. The schoolmaster noticed +the sudden brightening of Martha's face when Arthur's knock sounded +on the door, and the animated, eager way in which she listened to +every word he said. There was a feeling of good-fellowship, too, +between them which did not escape the sharp eyes of the schoolmaster. +"Arthur likes her," he thought, "that's a sure thing; but I'm afraid +it's that brotherly, sort of thing that's really no good. But, of +course, time may bring it all right. He's thinking too much now of +the fair-haired Thursa. It's hard to begin a new song when the echoes +of the old song are still ringing in your ears." + +Through the open doorway he could see Martha in the kitchen +filling the basket that Arthur had brought over for his bread. The +bread--three loaves--was put in the bottom, rolled in a snow-white +flour-sack; then she put in a roasted chicken, a fruit-cake and a jar +of cream. + +"Strong arguments in your favour, Martha," the teacher said, smiling +to himself as he watched her. + +"They are good, sensible, cogent arguments, every one of them, +Martha, and my own opinion is that you will win." + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +ANOTHER MATCH-MAKER + + + "Music waves eternal wands." + + +THE days went by pleasantly for the school-master, who became more +and more interested in Martha's struggle for an education. He spent +many of his evenings in directing her studies or in reading to her, +and Martha showed her gratitude in a score of ways. Pearl was +delighted with the turn events had taken, and before the month of +January had gone declared that she could see results. Martha was +learning. + +There was one other person in the neighbourhood who was taking an +interest in Martha's case and was determined to help it along, and +that was Dr. Emeritus Emory, the music-teacher of the Souris valley. + +Dr. Emory was a mystery, a real, live, undiscoverable mystery. All +that was really known of him was that he had come from England +several years before and worked as an ordinary farm-hand with a +farmer at the Brandon Hills. He was a steady, reliable man, very +quiet and reticent. That he knew anything about music was discovered +quite by accident one day when the family for whom he worked were all +away to a picnic and "Emer" was left to mind the house. One of the +neighbour's boys came over to borrow a neck-yoke. "Emer," glad to be +alone in the house, was in the parlour playing the piano. The +neighbour's boy knocked and knocked at the back door, but got no +response. Finally he went around to the front and looked in the +window to see who was playing the piano, and there sat "Emer" +"ripplin' it off by the yard," the boy said afterward, "the +smashin'est band music you ever heard." + +Soon after that "Emer" left the plough, and Dr Emeritus Emory began +to teach music to the young people of the neighbourhood and of the +neighbourhoods beyond, for he was fond of long walks and thought +nothing of twenty miles in a day. His home was where night found him, +and, being of a genial, kindly nature, he was a welcome guest at many +a fireside. + +The music-teacher's reticence regarding his own affairs exasperated +some of the women. There was no human way of finding out who he was +or why he left home. Mrs. George Steadman once indignantly exclaimed, +speaking of Dr. Emory,--"You can't even tell if he's married, or if +she's livin'. Maybe she is, for all we know. He never gets no mail. +George went and asked." + +Dr. Emory was equally silent on the happenings at the houses at which +he stayed. Mrs. Steadman pointed out to Mrs. Motherwell that "if the +old lad wanted he could be real chatty, instead of sittin' around +singin' his little fiddlin' toons. Here last week when he came to +give Maudie her lesson he came straight from Slater's, and I was just +dyin' to know if they was gettin' ready for Edith's weddin'. We heard +it had been put off, and so I asked him out straight if he saw much +sewin' around. 'They were sewin' onion seed,' says he. He seems kinda +stoopid sometimes. But I says to him, makin' it as plain as I could, +'I mean, did ye see any sewin' around the house, did ye see anything +in the line of sewin?' because I know people often put it away, but +if he was half smart he'd see the bastin' threads or somethin', so I +says, 'Did you see anythin' like sewin?' 'Just the sewin'-machine,' +says he, thinkin' hard. 'I remember distinctly seein' it.' Then I +just got my dander up, for I was determined to know about it, and I +knew very well he c'ud tell me if he'd a mind to. I says, 'Do ye +think Edith is gittin' ready to be married?' and says he, real solemn +like--I thought for sure he was goin' to tell me somethin'--says he, +'Mrs. Steadman, I believe every girl is gittin' ready for her weddin' +sometime. Maudie here is doin' an ocean-wave huckaback cushion now, I +see. What's that for, I wonder? I suppose Edith Slater is gittin' +ready. I don't see why she shouldn't,' and then he began to lilt a +little foreign toon, and I was good and mad, I can tell ye; but ye +can't get nothin' out, of him. He gits his livin' pretty easy, too, +and he ought to be a little chatty, I think." + +Dr. Emeritus Emory was not so engrossed in his profession as to be +insensible to a good square meal and a well-kept room to sleep in, +and so a chart of his peregrinations through the neighbourhood, with +the meal-stations starred, would have been a surer guide to the good +bread and butter makers than the findings of the Agricultural Society +which presumed every year at the "Show Fair" to pick the winners, and +any young man looking for a wife would make no mistake if he +"followed the stars." + +Dr. Emory seldom passed the Perkins home without stopping, and +although he had no pupil there since Edith left, he almost invariably +planned his pilgrimage so as to be there about nightfall, for a good +supper, bed, and breakfast and a warm welcome were not to be passed +by. + +If the music-teacher's way of getting his board and lodging was +unique, he had also his own system of getting his laundry work done. +Like all systems, it had its limitations; it required a certain +understanding on the part of the lady of the house. This sometimes +did not exist, and so it happened that the pair of stockings or the +underwear that he left, quite by accident, in the room he had +occupied were returned to him on his next visit, neatly wrapped in +newspaper, but otherwise unchanged in condition. + +But Martha Perkins never failed him. On his next visit the articles +he had left were always returned to him, washed, ironed, and oven +mended, and Martha always asked, as if there were some chance of +doubt, if they were his. + +Although he had never thanked Martha for her kindness, Dr. Emory was +deeply sensible of it, an many a time as he came walking down the +river-bank and saw the Perkins home, with its friendly, smoke curling +up through the trees, a lively feeling of gratitude stirred in him. +He had a habit of talking to him-self--gossiping, indeed, for it was +only to himself that he discussed neighbourhood matters or his own +affairs. + +"Martha's a good girl," he said to himself one night as he came down +the long Souris hill, "a very good girl. She puts a conscientious +darn on the heel of a sock, quiet, unobtrusive, like herself. Martha +should marry. Twenty years from now if Martha's not married she will +be lonesome ... and gray and sad. I can see her, bent a little--good +still, and patient, but when all alone ... quite sad. It is well to +live alone and be free when one is young ... the world is wide ... +but the time comes when one would like ...company--all one's own +...some one who ... cares." + +The old man suddenly came to himself and looked around suspiciously +at the bare oaks and willows that fringed the road. Not even to them +would he impart the secret of his heart. But some vision of the past +seemed to trouble him for he walked more slowly and seemed to be +quite insensible of the beauty of the scene around him. + +The setting, sun threw long shafts of crimson light across the +snowbound valley and lit the windows of the distant farmhouse into +flame. A white rabbit flashed across the road and disappeared in the +brown scrub. The wind, which had blown all day, had ceased as evening +approached, and now not a branch stirred in the quiet valley, over +which the purple shades of the winter evening were creeping. + +"It's a good world," he said at last, as if trying to convince +himself--"it is full of beauty and music. I think there must be +another world . . . over beyond the edge of things . . . a world that +is perhaps a little kinder and more just--it must be. I think it will +be--" + +A flock of prairie chickens rose out of the snow almost at his feet +and flew rapidly across the river and up over the other hill. His eye +followed their flight--he loved those brave birds, who stay with us +through the longest winter and whose stout hearts no storm can daunt. + +Then softly he began to sing, a brave song of love and pain and +enduring, a song that helped him to believe that: + + "Good will fall, + At last, far off, at last--to all, + And every winter change to spring." + +His voice wavered and trembled at first, as if it, too, felt the +weariness of the years, but by the time he had sung the first verse +all trace of sadness had vanished, and he went up the other, bank +walking briskly and singing almost gaily. + +Thomas Perkins, doing his evening chores, stopped to listen at the +stable door as the old doctor came across the white field, then he +shook his head and said. "By George, it's well to be him, not a +blessed thing to bother him. It's great how easy some people get +through the world." + +That night, after a warm supper, the old doctor sat in the cheerful +kitchen of the Perkins home and watched Martha quickly and deftly +clearing away the dishes. Humming to himself an air from "Faust" no +one would have thought that he was deliberately contemplating doing a +match-making turn, but certain it is that his brain was busy devising +means of suggesting to Arthur what a splendid girl Martha was. +There was this difference between Dr. Emory and Pearl Watson as +match-makers,--Pearl played the game perfectly fair, calling to her +aid such honest helps as the spelling-book and the pages of the +Woman's Magazine. The doctor, who knew more of the devious paths of +the human heart, chose other weapons for his warfare. + +Arthur came over for his bread that evening also, and when Dr. Emory +went to the organ in the parlour and began to play, every one in the +house went in to listen. He did not often play without being asked, +but to-night he suggested it himself. The parlour lamp was lighted, a +gorgeous affair with a large pink globe on which a stalwart deer, +poised on a rock, was about to spring across a rushing stream. But +the parlour lamp seemed to expend all its energy lighting up, the +deer and stream and the wreath of wild roses on the other side, and +have very little left for the room. The doctor silently commended its +dim light, for it suited his purpose better. + +At Mr. Perkins's request he played Irish reels and jigs. Mrs. Perkins +had only one favourite, "Home, Sweet Home," with variations; that was +the only tune she was real sure of. When the Doctor got these two +orders filled he began the real business of the evening with Handel's +"Largo." Mr. Perkins began to yawn and soon took his departure, +closely followed by Mrs. Perkins. They unitedly declared that they +"didn't like a die-away ducky piece like that that hadn't any swing +to it." + +The Doctor's fine old eyes were shining with a real purpose as he +played. "I'll suggest their thoughts for them," the old man was +chuckling to himself. "Who can resist these dreamy love-songs?"--he +was playing Schubert's "Serenade." "Twilight and music! If the moon +would only show her face at the window! I'm letting loose a whole +flock of cupids. Oh, I know, I know, I've heard their whispers--they +tell you there is no death or loneliness--or separation--lying little +rascals! But sweet, oh, wondrously sweet to listen to. Listen to +this, Arthur--it's all yours--Martha's just as true and pure and +sweet as all this--and she loves you, man alive, think of that. +Sorrow and evil days and death itself will never change Martha--she's +a solid rock for you to build your soul's happiness on. Dream on now, +Arthur, as millions have dreamed before you; let your dreams keep +pace with this--it will carry you on its strong tide--it will land +you safe on the rainbow shore. It carries me even, and I am old and +full of evil days. What must it be to you, Arthur, for you are young +and can easily believe, and the girl who loves you is right beside +you. Take the thought--it's bright with promise--it's full of love +and comfort and home for you." + +The schoolmaster stole away to his room upstairs and took a faded +photograph from an old portfolio and kissed it tenderly. + +* * * + +Behind the lace curtains the full moon, with a golden mist around her +face, shone softly into the dimly-lighted room, and still the old man +played on, the deathless songs of youth and love--the sweet, +changeless melodies which have come down the ages to remind us of the +love that still lives, glorious and triumphant, though the hearts +that loved are dust. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +MRS. CAVERS'S NEIGHBOURS + + + O! the world's a curious compound, + With its honey and its gall, + With its cares and bitter crosses-- + But a good world after all. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +THE people of the neighbourhood were disposed to wonder why Mrs. +Cavers lived on in the old tumble-down Steadman house after her +husband's death. "Why doesn't she go home to her own people?" they +asked each other--not in any unkindly, spirit, but because they +naturally expected that she would do this. Libby Anne had told the +children at school so much about her mother's lovely home in Ontario, +where her Grandmother and Aunt Edith still lived, that the people of +the neighbourhood had associated with it the idea of wealth. +Unfortunately, they were wrong about this. Mrs. Cavers's mother and +sister lived in a pretty white cottage, just outside one of Ontario's +large cities. Roses ran over the porch, and morning-glory vines shut +in the small verandah. It was a home of refinement and good taste, +but not of wealth or even competence. Mrs. Cavers's only sister, +Edith, and the sweet-faced mother lived there in peace and +contentment, but every dollar of Edith's small salary as milliner's +assistant was needed for their sustenance. + +Mrs. Cavers had never let her mother and sister know what hard times +she had come through. It was her good gift that she could hide her +troubles even from them. Even now her letters were cheerful and +hopeful, the kindness of her neighbours being often their theme. She +made many excuses for not coming home to live. She was afraid the +damp winters would not agree with Libby Anne; she had not disposed of +all of her stock and machinery yet. These and other reasons she gave, +but never the real one. She knew how hard it was to find a situation +in Ontario, and now, faded and wrinkled and worn as she was, what +chance had she among the many? She would stay in the West and get a +position as house-keeper on a farm. She could earn her own living and +Libby Anne's, and Libby Anne would go to school. + +Mrs. Cavers was a brave woman and faced the issues of life without a +murmur. She told herself over and over again that she should be +thankful that she had her health and such kind friends and +neighbours. But sometimes at night when Libby Anne was sleeping, and +she sat alone by the fire, the weariness of the years rolled over +her. If she could only see, her mother, she often thought, and feel +once more that gentle touch of sympathy that never fails, if she +could creep into her mother's arms, as she had often done as a child, +and cry away all the pain and sorrow she had ever known--she could +forget that life had held for her so much of ill. + +The Watsons' gift of two hundred dollars came like a prisoner's +release, for with it she could go home. She and Libby Anne would have +a visit at home anyway. Then she would come back on the Harvesters' +excursion and work for three months during the busy time, and perhaps +go home again. She would not think of the future beyond that--it was +enough to know that she and Libby Anne would go home in the spring. + +It was in February that Libby Anne took a cold. When she had been +away from school a few days Pearl Watson went over to see what was +wrong. Libby Anne's flushed face and burning eyes so alarmed Pearl +that next day she sent a note by her father, who was going to +Millford, to her friend, Dr. Clay. + +Dr. Clay went out at once to see Libby Anne, and, without alarming +Mrs. Cavers, made a thorough examination of the child's lungs. He +found that one of them undoubtedly was affected. + +Mrs. Cavers was telling him about their proposed journey east, which +the generous gift from the Watsons had made possible. They would go +just as soon as Libby Anne's cold got better now--the damp weather +would be over then. + +The doctor's face was turned away. How' could he tell her? He could +not tell her here in this forsaken, desolate little house. "Come for +a drive, Mrs. Cavers," he said at last. "Let me take you and Libby +Anne over to see Mrs. Perkins and Martha. It will do you both good." + +Mrs. Cavers gladly assented, but would going out hurt Libby Anne? + +"Oh, no!" the doctor assured her, "the fresh air will do her good." + +When they drove into the Perkins yard Martha and Mrs. Perkins warmly +welcomed them. The doctor had some calls to make across the river, +but he would be back in time to take them home before dark, he said. +When Mrs. Perkins had taken the visitors into the parlour the doctor +followed Martha into the kitchen. He would tell Martha, for Dr. Clay, +like every one else who knew her, had learned that Martha's quiet +ways were full of strength. Martha would know what to do. + +He told her in a few words. + +"Has she a chance?" asked Martha, quietly. + +"She has a good chance," he answered. "It is only in an early stage, +but she must be put in a tent, kept in bed, and have plenty of +nourishing food; either that or she must be sent to a sanitarium." + +"Where is there one?" Martha asked. + +"At Gravenhurst, Muskoka." + +"Oh, not among strangers!" she said quickly. + +"But her mother can't be left alone with her," said the doctor. + +Martha stood still for some moments with one hand on the tea-kettle's +shining lid. Then she spoke. "The tent can be put up here in our +yard," she said. + +"Mother and I will help Mrs. Cavers. I'll ask father and mother, but +I'm sure they'll be willing. They never went back on a neighbour. We +must give Libby Anne her chance." + +The doctor looked at her with admiration. "Will you tell Mrs. Cavers, +Martha? You're the best one to tell her." + +"All right," she answered. "I will tell her." + +The doctor drove away with a great reverence in his heart for the +quiet Martha. Pearl had told him about Martha's hopes and fears, and +the great ambition she had for an education. "She won't have much +time to improve her mind now," he said to himself. "She never +hesitated, though. She may not be acquainted with the binomial +theorem, but she has a heart of gold, and that's more important. +I wonder what Arthur is thinking. He's foolish to grieve for the +tow-haired Thursa when queens are passing by." + +When Martha went to the stable to consult with her father she found +that he had been having trouble with the hired man, the one who, +according to Mr. Perkins, "ate like a flock of grasshoppers." Ted had +been milking a cow, when his employer came in to remonstrate with him +about wasting oats when he was feeding the horses. Ted made no reply +until he had the pail half-full. Then suddenly he sprang up and threw +it over his employer. + +"You howld w'eat-plugger," he cried, "you drove Bud aw'y with your +meanness, but you can't put hon me. Do your bloomin' chores +yourself!" + +When Martha reached the barn she found her father wiping his clothes +with an empty grain-sack. He told her what had happened. + +"Jes' think, Martha, that beggar did not say a word until he got the +pail half full, and then he soused it onto me, good hay-fed new milk, +and from the half-Jersey too--he didn't care. This'll set ye back one +churnin' too. But he won't dare to ask me for this week's wages. I +paid him up just a week ago--that'll more than settle for the milk. +So it ain't as bad as it might be." He was shoving a red handkerchief +down the back of his neck, trying to locate some of the lost milk. +"You wouldn't think that half a pail of milk would go so far, now, +would you, Martha? but I tell ye he threw it strong." + +Martha suggested dry clothes, and when he was dressed in them she +told him about Libby Anne. + +"Certainly she can stay here," Mr. Perkins cried heartily. "No one +will be able to say that we went back on a neighbour. I always liked +Bill, and I always liked Mrs. Cavers, and we'll do our best for the +little girl. George Steadman is the one that ought to take her, but +his missus is away, of course, to Ontario; they'd never take any one, +anyway. People that don't look after their own ain't likely to do +for strangers. When old Mrs. Steadman, George's mother, was there +sick, Mrs. Steadman followed the doctor out one day and asked him +how long the old lady would last; couldn't he give her a rough +estimate--somethin' for her to go by like--for she was wantin' to +send word to the paperhangers; and then she told him that they was +goin' to have the house all done over as soon as Granny was out of +the way, 'but', says she, 'just now we're kinda at a standstill.' +One of Bruce Simpson's girls was working there, and she heard her." + +A few days after this Libby Anne's tent raised its white head under +the leafless maples that grew around the Perkins home. It was a large +tent, floored and carpeted, and fitted with everything that would add +to the little girl's comfort or the convenience of those who waited +on her. + +Dr. Clay told Mrs. Cavers that a friend of his had presented him with +the whole outfit for the use of any one who might need it. + +The neighbours, moved now by the same spirit that prompted them to +harvest Mrs. Cavers's crop, came bringing many and various gifts. +Mrs. Motherwell brought chickens, Mrs. Slater fresh eggs, Mrs. Green +a new eiderdown quilt; Aunt Kate Shenstone came over to sit up at +nights. Aunt Kate had had experience with the dread disease, and felt +in a position to express an expert opinion on it. There was no cure +for it; Bill had not recovered, neither would Libby Anne--this she +told Mrs. Perkins and Martha. She knew it--it would let your hopes +rise sometimes, but in the end it always showed its hand, +unmistakable and merciless--oh, she knew it! + +The doctor, knowing more about it than even Aunt Kate, was hopeful, +and never allowed a doubt of the ultimate result to enter his mind. + +Pearl Watson came in every night on her way home from school to see +Libby Anne, and many were the stories she told and the games she +invented to beguile the long hours for the little girl. One night +when she came into the tent Dr. Clay was sitting beside Libby Anne's +bed, gently stroking her thin little hand. The child's head was +turned away from the door, and she did not hear Pearl coming in. + +Libby Anne and the doctor were having a serious conversation. + +"Doctor," she said, "am I going to die?" + +"Oh, no, Libby," the doctor answered quickly, "you're just staying +out here in the tent to get rid of your cold, so you can go to your +grandmother's. You would like to go to Ontario to see your +Grandmother and Aunt Edith, wouldn't you?" + +"I want to go to my grandmother's," she said slowly, "but I'd like to +see Bud first. I'm Bud's girl, you know," and a smile played over her +face. "Bud said I must never forget that I am his girl. Have you a +girl, Doctor?" + +The doctor laughed and looked up at Pearl. "No-body ever promised to +be my girl, Libby," was his reply. + +"I wish you had one, so you could tell me about it," she said, quite +disappointed. + +"I can tell you what it is like, all right--or at least, I can +imagine what it would be like." + +"Would you stay away from your girl and never come back, and forget +all about her?" she asked wistfully. + +Looking up, the doctor noticed that Pearl had picked up a newspaper +and appeared to be not listening at all. + +"If I had a girl, Libby Anne," he said, very slowly, "I might stay +away a long time, but I'd come back sometime, oh, sure; and while I +was away I'd want my girl to lie still, if she had a cold and was out +in a tent trying to get better to go to her grandmother's, and I'd +want my girl to be just as happy as she could be, and always be sure +that I would come back." + +"I like you, Doctor," she said, after a pause, "and if I wasn't Bud's +girl I would like to be yours. Maybe Pearl Watson would be your girl, +Doctor," she said quickly. "I'll ask her when she comes, if you +like?" + +"I wish you would, Libby Anne," he said gravely. + +When he looked up Pearl had gone. + +It was a week before the doctor saw Pearl. One night he met her +coming home from school. It was the first day of March, and it seemed +like the first day of spring as well. From a cloudless sky the +afternoon sun poured down its warmth and heat. + +The doctor turned his horses and asked if he might drive her home. + +"Pearl," he said, with an' unmistakable twinkle in his eye, "I want +to see you about Libby Anne. I hope you will humour her in any way +you can." + +Pearl stared at him in surprise--then suddenly the colour rose in her +cheeks as she comprehended his meaning. + +"Even if she asks you to do very hard things," he went on. + +"She hasn't asked me yet," said Pearl honestly. + +"Is it possible that Libby Anne has forgotten me like that? Well, I +believe it is better for me to do it myself, anyway. How old are you, +Pearl?" + +"I was fifteen my last birthday." + +"Don't put it that way," he corrected. "That's all right when you're +giving your age in school, but just now I'd rather hear you say that +you will be sixteen on your next birthday, because sixteen and three +make nineteen, and when you're nineteen you will be quite a grown-up +young lady." + +"Oh, that's a long time ahead," said Pearl. + +"Quite a while," he agreed, "but I am going to ask you that question +which Libby Anne has overlooked, just three years from to-day. We can +easily remember the date, March the first. It may be a cold, dark, +wintry day, with the wind from the north, or it may be bright and +full of sunshine like to-day. That will just depend on your answer." + +He was looking straight into her honest brown eyes as he spoke. It +was hard for him to realize that she was only a child. + +"I don't like dark days," Pearl said, thoughtfully, looking away +toward the snow-covered Tiger Hills, that lay glimmering in the soft +afternoon sunshine. + +Neither of them spoke for a few minutes. Then suddenly Pearl turned +and met his gaze, and the colour in her cheeks was not all caused by +the bright spring sun as she said, "I think, it is usually pretty +fine on the first of March." + +* * * + +Before Libby Anne had been a week in the tent Mrs. Burrell came to +offer consolation and to express her hopes for Libby Anne's recovery. +Mrs. Burrell considered herself a very successful sick-visitor. In +the kitchen, where she went first, she found Martha preparing a +chicken for Libby Anne's dinner. + +"It's really too bad for you to have so much to do, Martha," she +began, when the greetings were over; "a young girl like you should be +getting ready for a home of her own. Living single is all right when +you're young, but it's different when you begin to get along in life. +There's that young Englishman--, what's his name?--the one that his +girl went back on him--he couldn't do better now than take you. I've +heard people say so." + +"Oh don't!" Martha cried, flushing Martha lacked the saving sense of +humour. + +Mrs. Burrell did not see the pain in the girl's face, and went on +briskly, "I must go in and see Libby Anne and Mrs. Cavers. Of course +I think it is very unwise to let every one go in to see the sick, but +for a woman like me that has had experience it is different. I'll try +to cheer them up, both of them." + +"Oh, they're all right," Martha exclaimed in alarm. "They do not need +any cheering. Pearl Watson is in the tent just now." + +Martha's cheeks were still smarting with the "cheering" that Mrs. +Burrell had just given her, and she trembled for Libby Anne and Mrs. +Cavers. + +Mrs. Burrell went into the tent resolved to be the very soul of +cheerfulness, a real sunshine-dispenser. + +Mrs. Cavers was genuinely glad to see her, for she had found out how +kind Mrs. Burrell really was at heart. + +"Oh, what a comfortable and cosy place for a sick little girl," she +began gaily, "and a nice friend like Pearlie Watson to tell her +stories. Wouldn't I like to be sick and get such a nice rest." + +Libby Anne smiled. "You can come and stay with me," she said +hospitably. + +Mrs. Burrell put her basket on the bed. "Everything in it is for +Libby Anne," she said, "and Libby Anne must take them out herself. +Pearl will help her." + +Then came the joyous task of unpacking the basket. There were candy +dogs and cats, wrapped in tissue paper; there were pretty boxes of +home-made candy; there were gaily dressed black dolls, and a +beautiful big white doll; there was a stuffed cat with a squeak in +it, a picture book, and, at the bottom, in a dainty box, a five +dollar bill. + +"Oh, Mrs. Burrell!" was all that Mrs. Cavers could say. + +Mrs. Burrell dismissed the subject by saying, "Dear me, everybody is +kind to Libby Anne, I'm sure--it's just a pleasure." + +Then Mrs. Cavers told her of the wonderful kindness the neighbours +had shown her. That very day, two women had come from across the +river--she had never heard of them before--and they brought Libby +Anne two beautiful fleecy kimonos, and two hooked mats for the tent, +and a crock of fresh butter; and as for the doctor's kindness, and +Martha's, and Mr. and Mrs. Perkins's, and Arthur's and the Watson +family's--only eternity itself would show what it had meant to her, +and how it had comforted her. + +Tears overflowed Mrs. Cavers' gentle eyes and her voice quivered. + +"They love to do it, Mrs. Cavers," Mrs. Burrell answered, her own +eyes dim, "and Mr. Braden, too. He's only too glad to show his +repentance of the evil he brought into your life--he's really a +reformed man. You'd be surprised to see the change in him. He +told Mr. Burrows he'd gladly part with every cent he had to see +somebody--" pointing to the bed--"well and strong; he's so glad to +help you in any way he can; and I overheard him tell Mr. Burrell +something--they were in the study and Mr. Burrell closed the door +tight, so I couldn't hear very well, but I gathered from words +here and there that he intended to do something real handsome for +somebody"--again pointing with an air of great mystery to the little +face on the bed. + +Mrs. Cavers was staring at her with wide eyes, her face paler even +than Libby Anne's. + +"What do you mean?" she asked in a choked voice. + +Mrs. Burrell blundered on gaily. "It's nothing more than he should +do--he took your husband's money. If it had not been for his bar you +would have been comfortably well off by this time, and I am sure he +has so much money he will never miss the price Of this." She pointed +to the tent and its furnishings. + +"Do you mean to say--that Sandy Braden--bought this tent--for my +little girl?" Mrs. Cavers asked, speaking very slowly. + +"Yes, of course," replied the other woman, alarmed at the turn the +conversation had taken, "but, dear me, he, should make some +restitution." + +"Restitution?" the other woman repeated, in a voice that cut like +thin ice--"Restitution! Does anyone speak to me of restitution? Can +anything bring back my poor Will from the grave? Can anything give +him back his chance in this world and the next? Can anything make me +forget the cold black loneliness of it all? I don't want Sandy +Braden's money. Let it perish with him! Can I take the price of my +husband's soul?" + +Mrs. Cavers and Mrs. Burrell had gone to the farther end of the tent +as they spoke, and Pearl, seeing the drift of the conversation, had +absorbed Libby Anne's attention with a fascinating story about her +new dolls. Yet not one word of the conversation did Pearl miss. + +Mrs. Burrell was surprised beyond measure at Mrs. Cavers's words, and +reproved her for them. + +"It's really wrong of you, Mrs. Cavers, to feel so hard and bitter. I +am astonished to find that your heart is so hard. I am really." + +"My heart is not hard, Mrs. Burrell," she said, quietly, her eyes +bright and tearless; "my heart is not hard or bitter--it's only +broken." + +That night when Mrs. Burrell had gone, Pearl told Martha what she had +heard. "You see, Martha," she said, when she had related the +conversation, "Mrs. Burrell is all right, only her tongue. It was +nice of her to come--the things she brought Libby Anne are fine, and +there's nothing wrong with her five dollars; if she'd a been born +deaf and dumb she would have been a real nice woman, but the trouble +with her is she talks too easy. If she had to spell it off on her +fingers she'd be more careful of what she says, and it would give her +time to think." + +The next time the doctor came, Mrs. Cavers insisted on paying him for +the tent and everything that was in it. There was a finality in her +manner that made argument useless. + +The doctor was distressed and earnestly tried to dissuade her. + +"Let me pay for it, Mrs. Cavers, then," he said. "Surely you are +willing that I should help you." + +"Aren't you doing enough, doctor," she said. "You are giving your +time, your skill, for nothing. Oh doctor, don't you see you are +humiliating me by refusing to take this money?" + +Then the doctor took the money, wondering with a heavy heart how he +could tell Sandy Braden. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +ANOTHER NEIGHBOUR + + + How fair a lot to fill + Is left for each man still! + + _----Robert Browning._ + + +THE early days of March were bright and warm and full of the promise +of spring. Mouse ears came out on the willows that bordered the +river, and a bunch of them was proudly carried to Libby Anne by Jimmy +Watson, who declared that he had heard a meadowlark. One evening, +too, as she lay in her tent, Libby Anne had heard the honking of wild +geese going north, and the bright March sun that came through the +canvas each day cheered her wonderfully. Libby Anne always believed +that Bud would come home in the spring--he would surely come to see +the big brown tumbling flood go down the Souris valley. Nobody could +stay away from home in the spring, when the hens are cackling in the +sun-shiny yard, and water trickling down the furrows, and every day +may be the day the first crocus comes. Bud would surely come then, +and she would get all better, and she and her mother would go to +Grandma's, and so Libby Anne beguiled her days and nights with +pleasing fancies as she waited for the spring. + +But although the snow had left the fields in black patches and the +sun was bright and warm, the anemones delayed their coming and the +ice remained solid and tight in the Souris. + +One day, instead of the dazzling sunshine, there were lead-gray +clouds, and a whistling wind came down the valley, piercing cold, +carrying with it sharp little hurrying snowflakes. + +Up to this time Libby Anne had made good progress, but with the +change in the weather came a change in her. Almost without warning +she developed pleurisy. + +The doctor's face was white with pain when he told her mother the +meaning of the flushed cheeks and laboured breathing. She had been +doing so well, too, and seemed in a fair way to win against the +relentless foe, but now, restlessly tossing on her pillow, with a +deadly catch in her breathing, what chance had such a frail little +spar of weathering the angry billows? + +When the doctor went back to his office he saw Sandy Braden passing +and called him in. He told him of the new danger that threatened +Libby Anne. + +"What can we do, Clay?" he cried, when the doctor had finished. "Is +there anyone that can give her a better chance than you? How about +that Scotch doctor, MacTavish? Isn't he pretty good? Can't we get +him?" + +"He's too busy, I'm afraid. I don't think he ever leaves the city," +Dr. Clay replied. "He's the best I know, if we could only get +him--though perhaps we will not need him. I'll watch the case, and if +there is any chance of an operation being necessary we can wire him." + +The next day Dr. Clay wired for the famous specialist, and in a few +hours the answer came back that Dr. MacTavish could not leave the +city. Dr. Clay had gone back to Libby Anne's bedside before the +message came, and so it was to Sandy Braden that it was delivered. + +It took Sandy Braden an hour to write his reply, and the wiring of it +cost him four dollars, but it really was a marvel in its way--it was +a wonderful production from a literary standpoint, and it was +marvellous in its effect, for it caused Dr. John MacTavish, late of +Glasgow, Scotland, to change his mind. He was just about to leave his +house to deliver an address before the Medical Association when this, +the longest telegram he had ever received, was handed to him. He read +it through carefully, looked out at the gathering snowstorm, shrugged +his shoulders, read it again, this time aloud, then telephoned his +regrets to the Medical Association. + +The storm, which had been threatening for several days, was at its +height when the train, four hours late, came hoarsely blowing down +the long grade into Millford. Sandy Braden was waiting on the +storm-swept platform for the doctor, and took him at once to his +hotel, where a hot supper was waiting for him. + +When the doctor had finished his supper he was in a much better +humour, which, however, speedily vanished when his host informed him +that the patient was in the country, and that they would drive out at +once. + +"I won't go," declared Dr. MacTavish bluntly. "I won't go out in a +blizzard like this for anyone. It's fifteen degrees below zero and a +terrific wind blowing, and the night as black as ink. I won't go, +that's all there is about it." + +"Now look here, Doctor MacTavish," Sandy Braden said, persuasively, +"I know it's a dreadful night but I have the best team in this +country, and I know every inch of the road. I'll get you there!" + +"I won't go," said the doctor, in exactly the same tone as before. + +"And besides," Sandy Braden went on, other man had not spoken, "the +little girl is ill, an operation is necessary, and the doctor is +counting on you. It is now we need you, and you must come. Think of +the poor mother--this little kid is all she has"---- + +"I know all that, and I'm sorry for her, and for you, too, but I +won't go a step in this storm. Don't waste your breath. Don't you +know you can't move a Scotchman? I know my own business best." + +Sandy Braden controlled himself by an effort. + +"Doctor MacTavish," he said, "we are wasting, time, and that little +girl may be gone before we get there. I suppose you are used to this +kind of thing, but, mind you, it means a lot to us, and this little +girl is not going to die if human power can save her. Will five +hundred dollars bring you? If money is any use to you say what you +want and I'll give it to you." He was shaking with the intensity of +his emotion. + +Dr. MacTavish turned on him with dignity--he was thoroughly +exasperated now. + +"See here," he said brusquely, "I don't want your money--it's not a +matter of money--I won't go out in this storm. Money won't buy me to +freeze myself. Didn't I tell you I'm Scotch and canny?" he added, +half apologetically. + +Sandy Braden's eyes flamed with sudden anger. + +He took a heavy fur coat from a peg in the hall. "Put that on," he +commanded. "We will start in about two minutes. The horses are at the +door." + +The doctor indignantly protested. Without a word Sandy Braden seized +his arm with an iron grip and bundled him into the coat, none too +gently. + +"You are Scotch, are you?" he said, looking the doctor straight in +the eye, while he still kept a grip of his shoulder. "Well, I'm +Irish, and we're the people who hit first and explain afterward." He +opened the door and pushed the doctor ahead of him out into the +raging storm. + +The best team in the Braden stable was at the door, impatiently +tossing their heads and pawing the snowy ground, ready to measure +their mettle with the storm. + +"Get in," Sandy Braden commanded, and without another word Dr. +MacTavish got into the cutter, while one of the men who had been +holding the horses came and tucked the robes around him. + +Sandy Braden jumped in beside him, took up the reins, and with an +"All right, boys, let them go"--they were off! + +All evening Doctor Clay stayed beside Libby Anne's bedside, soothing +her restless tossing and carefully watching every symptom. Her fever +was steadily mounting, and she complained of a pain in her side. Mr. +Donald, who like everyone else in the household had been since her +illness her devoted slave, came once and stood at the foot of the +bed. Libby Anne looked up, knew him, and smiled faintly. + +Dr. Clay had not mentioned to Mrs. Cavers the coming of the great +city doctor, for since the storm had risen to such violence he had +given up all hope of seeing him; for no one, he thought, could drive +against such a blinding blizzard, even if the train did get through, +which was doubtful. + +The tent was banked high with snow all round, but the terrific wind +loosened the tent ropes partially, and the canvas swayed and bellied +in the storm. At the entrance, where the path came in between two +high banks, the snow sifted in drearily, making a little white mound +on the floor, like a new grave. + +Through the roar of the storm came at intervals the old dog's +mournful cry. The lamp on the table, turned low though it was, +flickered in the draft, and the storm mourned incessantly in the pipe +of the Klondike heater. Through all the other sounds came the rapid +breathing of the little girl as she battled bravely with the outgoing +tide. Martha and Mrs. Cavers sat on the lounge opposite the bed. + +The opening of the tent door let in a sudden gust of wind and snow +that caused the lamp to flicker uncertainly. A man in a snowy fur +coat entered and hastily slipped off his outer garments. Mrs. Cavers +did not look up. Martha turned the lamp higher. + +Dr. Clay, looking up, gave an exclamation of delight. + +"Doctor MacTavish, you're a brick!" he cried, springing to his feet. +"I was afraid you wouldn't come." + +The great man, warming his hands over the stove, made no reply, +except to shrug his shoulders--he was looking intently at the little +girl's face. Then he shook hands with Dr. Clay gravely and asked +about the case. After hearing all that Dr. Clay had to tell him, with +an imperative gesture he signified that Mrs. Cavers and Martha were +to leave the tent. But something in Mrs. Cavers's despairing face +revealed to him the stricken mother. He touched her gently on the arm +and said, in that rolling Scotch voice that has comforted many, +"We'll do what we can for the bairn." + +The two women found their way with difficulty into the house, holding +tight to each other as they struggled through the storm. How did this +great city doctor get here? Who brought him? Who would brave this +terrible storm? were the questions they asked each other. They opened +the kitchen door again and again to see if there was any trace of the +driver who had brought the doctor, but the square of light from the +kitchen door revealed only the driving storm as it swept past. + +Down in the shelter of the barn Sandy Braden unhitched his steaming +horses. With the help of his lantern he found a place for them in the +stable. All night long, as he waited for the dawn, there was one +thought in his brain as he paced up and down between the two rows of +horses, or as he looked out of the stable door at the little misty +patch, of light that now and then flashed out through the storm, one +agonizing, burning thought that caused the perspiration to run down +his face and more than once forced him to his knees in an agony of +prayer. And the burden of his heart's cry was that the little girl +might live. + +Before daybreak the storm died away, and only the snowdrifts, packed +hard and high, gave evidence of the night's fury. Sandy Braden stole +quietly up to the tent and looked in, the beating of his own heart +nearly choking him. Dr. MacTavish slept on the lounge, the peaceful +sleep of a child, or of a man who has done good work. Beside the bed +sat Dr. Clay, watching, alert, hopeful. From the tent door where he +stood he could see the little white face on the pillow and he knew +from the way the child breathed that she was sleeping easily. The +eastern wall of the tent was rosy with the dawn. Then he went back to +the stable, hitched up his team, and drove home in the sparkling +sunshine. + +Dr. MacTavish woke up soon after, and Dr. Clay went into the house to +tell Mrs. Cavers. She had spent the long night by the kitchen fire +listening to the raging of the storm, Martha close beside her in +wordless sympathy, and when Dr. Clay came in with, the good news that +the operation was over, and the great man believed that Libby Anne +would live, she was almost hysterical with joy. + +"Can I go and see her, doctor?" she cried. "I must go and thank him +for coming. Wasn't it splendid of him to come this dreadful night?" + +"Come on, Mrs. Cavers," he said, his beaming. + +"Oh, my dear woman, don't thank me for coming," the doctor said, +laughing, when in broken phrases she tried to tell him what she felt. +"Never did a man come more against his will than I. But I had no +choice in the matter when that big giant got hold of me. He coaxed me +at first"--laughing at the recollection--"then tried to bribe me--I +forget what fabulous sum he offered me--half of his kingdom, I think. +I mind he asked me if money were any use to me, but I stuck it out +that I wouldn't come until he said he'd break every bone in my body, +or words to that effect. So, my dear lady, your good man deserves all +the credit--he simply bundled me up and brought me. I believe he +swore at me, but I'm not sure." + +Mrs. Cavers stared at him uncomprehendingly. + +"Say, Clay," the doctor went on gaily, "there was a glint in that +man's eye last night that made me decide to risk the storm, though +I'm not fond of a blizzard. I believe he would have struck me. Where +is he now? I like him. I want to shake hands with him." + +Mrs. Cavers sank on the lounge, white and trembling. + +Dr. Clay saw the mistake the other man was making and hastened to set +him right. + +"Do you mean to tell me, Clay, that that man who brought me here is +not the little girl's father? Well, then, who in the world is he?" + +"His name is Sandy Braden," Dr. Clay replied, "and he is--just a +neighbour." + +"Well, then," the doctor cried in astonishment, "let me tell you, +madam"--turning to Mrs. Cavers--"you have one good neighbour." + +Much to the doctor's surprise, Mrs. Cavers buried her face in her +hands, while her shoulders shook with sobs. After a few minutes she +raised her head, and looking the doctor in the face, said brokenly: + +"Doctor MacTavish, you are right about that, but I have not only one +good neighbour; I have many." + +Then she stood up and laid her hand on the young doctor's arm. +"Dr. Clay," she said, "tell Sandy Braden I have only one word for +him"--her eyes grew misty again, and her voice tremulous--"only one +word, and that is, May God bless him--always." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIII + +THE CORRECTION LINE + + + It's a purty good world, this is, old man, + It's a purty good world this is; + For all its follies and shows and lies, + Its rainy weather, and cheeks likewise, + And age, hard hearing, and rheumatiz; + We're not a faultin' the Lord's own plan; + All things jest + At their best, + It's a puny good world, old man. + + _----James Whitcomb Riley._ + + +ON THE Sunday afternoon following the big storm, when the delayed +passenger train on the C. P. R. slowly ploughed its way through +snowbanks into the station at Newbank, there alighted from it a young +man with bearded face. The line had been tied up since the storm on +Thursday night, but early on Sunday afternoon the agent at Newbank, +where the railway crosses the Souris on the long wooden bridge, gave +out the glad word that "she" would be down "sometime soon," and the +inhabitants--seventeen in number--congregated on the small platform +without delay. They were expecting neither friends nor parcels. But +there would be a newspaper or two, pretty old now, as some people +reckon the age of newspapers, but in Newbank a newspaper is very +wisely considered new until it has been read, and news is always news +until you have heard it, no matter how long after the occurrence. + +Another good reason for all the inhabitants putting in such a prompt +appearance is that some one might get off, and hearing other people +tell about an arrival is not quite the same thing as seeing it for +one's self. + +On this particular occasion, as old No. 182 came sweeping +majestically into the station, everybody was glad that they were +there to see it. There was snow on the engine, snow on the cars, and +snow every place, that snow could possibly stick. While the train +waited the conductor walked around the platform speaking genially to +every one. Even the small boys called "Hello, Dave!" to him. "Dave" +had run on this line since it had been built, three years before, and +everybody knew him. He discussed the tie-up on the line with the +postmaster, apparently taking no notice of the fact that the train +was pulling out. However, as the last coach passed him, he swung +himself up with easy grace, quite as an afterthought, much to the +admiration of the small but appreciative band of spectators. + +On the platform were left the mailbag, two Express parcels, and three +milk cans. The people of Newbank stood watching the train as it ran +slowly over the long bridge, shaking all the valley with its thunder, +then they turned and walked over to the store to get their newspapers +and discuss the news. + +"Say, I'd hate to live in one of them out-of-the-way places where you +never get to hear what's goin' on," said Joe McCaulay, sententiously. +"It's purty nice, I tell ye, to get a newspaper every week, jest as +reg'lar as the week comes." + +This had been a particularly interesting arrival of the train, for +there had been one passenger. He did not wait long enough for anyone +to have a good look at him, but struck right across the drifts toward +the river, as if he knew where he was going. There was only one +person who claimed to have seen his face, and that was a very old +lady who was unable to go to the station on account of rheumatism, +but who always kept a small hole thawed in the frosting of her +bedroom window, and managed in this way to see a good deal of what +was going on outside. When the other members of her household came +home, and told of the young man's coming off the train and hurriedly +setting out across country without letting anyone see him or ask him +where he came from, where he was going, who he was, what did he want, +or any simple little thing like that, the aged grandmother +triumphantly informed them that he was just a boy with his first crop +of whiskers--he carried nothing in his hand--he wasn't even a pedlar +or a book-agent--he didn't look around at all--he was sure of the +road, but he must have some reason for not wanting to be known. Not +many rheumatic old ladies, with only a small eye-hole in a frozen +window, would have observed as much, and she was naturally quite +elated over the fact that she had seen more than the people who went +to the station, and the latter were treated to some scathing remarks +about the race not always being to the swift, but the way she +expressed it was that it is not "always them that runs the fastest +that sees the most." + +The young man whose coming had aroused this comment walked rapidly +over the hard-packed drifts. There had been no teams on the road +since the storm, and there was not much danger of meeting anyone, but +in any event, he thought his crop of black whiskers would be a +sufficient disguise. He did not want any-one to know him. Not that he +cared, he told himself, recklessly, but it would be just as well not +to see any of them. It seemed ages to the lad since he had left this +place, though it was only six months since he had said good-bye to +Libby Anne in the purple September twilight. + +Things looked odd to him as he walked quickly over the drifts +toward the old Cavers house. The schoolhouse was more dingy and +desolate-looking; the houses and barns all seemed smaller; there was +the same old mound on the Tiger Hills on the southern horizon,--the +one that people said had been built by the Mound Builders, but when +you came up to it, is just an ordinary hill with a hay-meadow +at the foot; the sandhills, too, were there still, with their +sentinel spruce-trees, scattered and lonesome. Looking over at +the schoolhouse, Bud remembered the day he thrashed Tom Steadman +there--it came back to him with a thrill of pleasure; and then came +the memory of that other day at the school, when he had told Mr. +Burrell that he was going to try to let the good seed grow in his +heart, and when he had been so full of high resolves. Small good it +had done him, though, and Mr. Burrell had been quick to believe evil +of him. Bud's face burned with anger even now. But he could get along +without any of them! + +Since leaving home six months before, Bud had had a varied +experience. He went to Calgary first, and got a job on a horse-ranch, +but only stayed a month; then he worked in a livery stable in Calgary +for a while, but a restless mood was on him, and he left it, too, +when his first month was served. He then came to Brandon and found +work in a livery stable there. The boy was really homesick, though he +did not let himself admit the fact. His employer was a shrewd old +horse-man, and recognizing in Bud a thoroughly reliable driver, soon +raised his wages and gave him a large share of the responsibility. He +had in his stable a fine young pacer, three years old, for which he +was anxious to secure a mate. Bud told him about his pacing colt at +home, and the liveryman suggested that Bud go home and bring back the +colt, and they would have a team then that would make the other +fellows "sit up and take notice." + +"I've surely earned that colt," Bud was thinking bitterly when he +came near the Cavers' house. "If the old man won't give him to me, +there are other ways of getting him." + +He noticed with alarm that there were no signs of life around the +Cavers house, but then remembered that this being Sunday, Mrs. Cavers +and Libby Anne would be at church in the schoolhouse. He would go in +and wait for them; he knew just how Libby Ann's eyes would sparkle +when she, saw him--and what would she say when she saw what he had in +the little box in his pocket? + +The day had grown dull and chilly, and a few snowflakes came +wandering listlessly down--as if the big storm had not entirely +cleared the air. No barking dog heralded Bud's approach; no column of +smoke rose into the air. The unfrosted windows stared coldly at him, +and when he turned around the corner of the house he started back +with an exclamation of alarm, for one of the panels of the door had +been blown in and a hard snowdrift blocked the entrance. + +He went to the curtainless window and looked in. The stove was there, +red with rust; two packing-boxes stood on the floor, and from one of +those protruded Libby Anne's plaid dress. Through the open bedroom +door he could see Libby Anne's muslin hat hanging on the opposite +wall. It looked appealingly at him through the cold silence of the +deserted house. His first thought was that Libby Anne and her mother +had gone East, but as the furniture was still in the house, and the +boxes of clothing, this thought had to be abandoned. But where were +they? Why were Libby Anne's clothes here? + +Just then Bud noticed the little hand-sleigh that he had made for +Libby Anne, standing idly behind the stove, and it brought to his +eyes a sudden rush of tears--his little girl was dead; the little +girl who had loved him. He remembered how she had clung to him that +night he came to say good-bye, and begged him to come back, and now, +when he came back, there was only the muslin hat and the sleigh and +the plaid dress to tell him that he was too late! + +Bud retraced his steps sadly to the road and made his way to the +schoolhouse, which lay straight on his road home. In his anxiety for +Libby Anne, he forgot about it being the hour for service. The +schoolyard was blown clean and bare. In the woodpile he noticed +"shinney-sticks" where their owners had put them for safe-keeping--he +knew all the "hidie-holes," though it was years and years since he +had played "shinney" here. His boyhood seemed separated from him by a +wide gulf. Since leaving home he had been to church but seldom, for +Bud made the discovery that many another young man makes, that the +people who go to church and young people's meetings are not always as +friendly as the crowd who frequent the pool-rooms and bars. Bud had +been hungry for companionship, and he had found it, but in places +that did not benefit him morally. + +The minister's cutter, in front of the shed, called to his +remembrance the fact that this was the hour for service, which no +doubt was going on now. "It's a wonder they still keep it up," he +thought, rather contemptuously. + +It seemed the most natural thing in the world for him to go into the +porch--he, would hear what was going on, anyway, and perhaps he could +see if Mrs. Cavers were there. Suddenly some one began to sing--the +voice was strange, and yet familiar, like something had heard long, +long, ago. When he realized that it was Mrs. Cavers he was listening +to, a sudden impulse seized him to rush in. Libby Anne must be there +beside her mother--she was always beside her. + + "was it for crimes that I have done, + He groaned upon the tree?" + +Mrs. Cavers was singing alone, it seemed, in her sweet thin voice. + +"Oh, no," Bud said to himself, "I guess it was not for any crimes she +ever did." + +The day had grown darker and colder, biting wind began to whirl hard +little around the porch. Mrs. Cavers sang on: + + "Well may the sun in darkness hide, + And shut his glories in. + When Christ, the mightly Saviour died + For man, the creatures sin." + +Then he heard Mr. Burrell say, quite distinctly: "Ye that do truly +and earnestly repent of your sins and are in love and charity with +your neighbours, and intend to lead a new life ... draw near with +faith and take this holy sacrament to your comfort ... meekly +kneeling upon your knees." + +Bud heard a few moving forward--he knew who they were, just the same +few--he had gone with them once, more fool he was--what was the use +of that man talking about love and charity when the very first chance +he got he would turn a fellow down? + +"... Who in the same night that he was betrayed took bread and brake +it, saying: 'Take, eat; this is my body which was broken for you this +is my blood of the New Testament, which was shed for you ....'" + +This one sentence came out to him clearly, fastening itself on his +mind, and though in a vague way he heard the service through, his +mind was busy with the thought that the Saviour of men had been +betrayed by a friend, betrayed to his death, and had died blessing +and forgiving his enemies. + +" ... the same night that he was betrayed." + +The solemnity of it all fell on the boy's heart. He had knelt there +once, and heard those words and taken these tokens of the Lord's +death, with his heart swelling with love for Him who had not even +refused to die. It had been a glorious day of June sunshine, when +through the open windows came the robin's song and the prairie breeze +laden with the perfume of wolf-willow blossoms and sweet-grass. He +remembered how the tears had risen unbidden to his eyes--happy tears +of love and loyalty--and he had felt that nothing could ever separate +him from the Master whom he loved. But now he stood on the outside of +the door--he was an outsider--he had no part in this. He made a step +backward--he would go away--he would hear no more--he had come back +for the pacing colt--he was done with this neighbourhood and home--he +was done with religion! + +"Drink ye this in remembrance that Christ's blood was shed for you." + +The voice sounded at Bud's elbow, as if calling him to stay. He +hesitated--they were not nearly done yet--there was no danger of +anyone coming out--everyone stayed for the whole service, he knew, +even if they didn't take part. + +"Our Father, who art in heaven," he heard them all repeat, and quite +unconsciously he began to follow the words with them. It was like an +old friend coming out to meet him. + +"Forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive them who trespass against +us." + +Bud stopped abruptly, he couldn't say that--he would not forgive--he +had been bitterly wronged, and he would never forgive--he had done +what was right, and what had he got for it? He tried to summon back +to him the anger that had kept alive his resolve to stay away from +home. Instead of anger and bitterness he found his, heart swelling +with the old love for the One who, the same night that he was +betrayed, took bread and broke it, saying: "Take, eat; this is my +body, which was broken for you." + +Some one was praying--it was Mr. Burrell--every word came to Bud +clearly. + +"Dear Lord," the minister prayed, "be one with us to-day, and grant +that the great appeal which Thou dost make in the broken body and the +shed blood may find an answer in every heart that hears. Compel us +with it to consecrate our lives to Thee. If there is any root of +bitterness in our lives, let us bring it to where the shadow of the +Cross may fall upon it. Oh, dear Lord, bless all those who have +wandered from Thee. Bless the dear boy of our prayers who may have +wandered far, but who, we believe, will never be deaf to the call of +the Spirit. We praise Thee for prayers answered--for sick ones +healed--for lives redeemed--and we humbly crave Thy mercy for us all. +Amen." + +What strange power was in these words to make Bud Perkins suddenly +realize that only one thing mattered? He opened the door and walked +in. The people heard the door open and some one come quickly toward +the front. They saw the minister step down from the platform and into +the aisle, where he clasped a black-bearded youth in his arms. For a +full minute no one spoke; then Roderick Ray, the Scottish Covenanter, +broke into singing: + + "O dying Lamb, Thy precious blood + Shall never lose its power + Till all the ransomed church of God + Be saved to sin no more." + +What a scene of rejoicing was in the schoolhouse that dark March day! +Roderick Ray slapped Bud on the back again and again, crying: +"Wonderful! Wonderful!" Mr. Perkins hung on to Bud's arm as if he +were afraid he might lose him again, and told him over and over again +what a time he had been having with hired help. "There's nothing like +your own you bet." Even George Steadman shook hands with Bud, and +told him he was glad to see him back again. + +While Mrs. Cavers, in answer to his eager inquiry, was telling Bud +all about Libby Anne's illness, and the great kindness of his father +and mother and Martha Pearl Watson whispered to Mr. Perkins: "Now's +the time to clear up Bud's name about that wheat plugging. Tell them +who did it." In the excitement of the moment there did not seem +anything odd in the suggestion. Pearl was shrewd enough to know that +the psychological moment had come. + +Mr. Burrell was still standing with his hand on Bud's shoulder, as if +he could never let go of him. Pearl whispered to the minister to ask +the people to sit down for a few minutes, for Mr. Perkins had +something to say to them. Mr. Burrell did as Pearl had asked him. +Then Mr. Perkins addressed a few words to the congregation which were +probably as strange a closing as any sacramental service has ever +had. + +"Well, friends," he said, "I believe I have a few words to say. I +should have said them before, I guess. In fact, I should have said +them when the thing happened, but I'm a terrible man to put off +things that I don't like to do. But I'm so glad to get Buddie home +that I don't mind tellin' ye that he didn't have nothin' to do with +that wheat pluggin'--that was my idea entirely--in fact, Bud raised +Cain about us ever pluggin' grain, and said he'd not stand for it any +more. I ain't much used to speakin' in church, as you know. I've +always kept my religion in my wife's name, and I may not be talking +in a suitable way at all. I'm a good deal like old Jimmie Miller was +at a funeral one time. Jimmie had took a glass or two too much, and +just when the minister asked them to walk around and view the +remains, old Jimmie jumped up and proposed the health of the bride +and groom. Well, of course, someone grabbed him and pulled him down, +and says: 'Sit down, man, this is a funeral!' 'Well,' says Jimmie, +speakin' pretty thick, 'I don't care what it is, but it's a very +successful event any way.' That's the way I feel--it's the happiest +day I've known for quite a while." Thomas Perkins suddenly stopped +speaking and blew his nose noisily on a red handkerchief. The +neighbours, looking at him in surprise, realized that there was +strong emotion behind his lightly spoken words. + +It seemed to be quite a natural thing for them to sing "Praise God, +from whom all blessings flow," and for the hand-shaking to begin all +over again. They were only a handful of very ordinary people in a +desolate-looking, unpainted schoolhouse that dark Sunday afternoon, +but a new spirit seemed suddenly to have come over them, a new spirit +that made them forget their worries and cares, their sordid +jealousies and little meannesses, the spirit of love and neighbourly +kindness, and there were some there who remembered that old promise +about the other One who will come wherever "two or three are gathered +together," and thought they felt the Unseen Presence. + +A few hours later Bud was sitting in the cushioned rocking-chair of +the tent before a cheerful fire that blazed in the Klondike heater. +On the lounge sat his father, mother and Mrs. Cavers. + +Libby Anne, in a pale blue kimono, and wrapped in a warm shawl, was +on Bud's knee, holding in her hands a gold locket and a chain, and +saying over and over to herself in an ecstasy: "Bud did come back and +I'm Bud's girl." + +Mr. Perkins was in radiant good-humour. "By George, it's great to +have Buddie home!" he said, "and our kid here gettin' better. Let me +tell you, Buddie, we've had a pretty dull, damp time around here; +things have been pretty blue, and with no one to help me with the +stock since Ted left. I was tellin' ye about Ted, wasn't I? Well, +sir, we've been up against it all right, but now I'm feelin' so good +I could whoop and yell, and still, I kinda feel I shouldn't. I'm a +good deal like old Bill Mills, down at the Portage, the time the boys +'shivaried' him. You see, just the day after the first woman was +buried old Bill started in to paint up his buckboard, and as soon as +the paint was dry he was off huntin' up another woman; and he got +her, too, a strappin' fine big Crofter girl--by George! you should +see her milkin' a cow--I passed there one day when she was milkin', +and I can tell you she had a big black-and-white Holstein cow shakin' +to the horns! Well, anyway, when Bill and the girl got married, the +boys came to 'shivaree' them. The old woman was just dead two months, +and when the noise started Bill came out, mad as hops, and told them +they should be ashamed of themselves making such a racket at a house +where there had so lately been a funeral! That's how it is with us, +eh, what? By George, it's great altogether to have Buddie home." + + + + +CHAPTER XXXIV + +THE CONTRITE HEART + + + Who knows whither the clouds have fled? + In the unscarred heaven they leave no wake. + And the eyes forget the tears they have shed, + And the heart forgets its sorrow and ache. + + _----James Russell Lowell._ + + +DURING Libby Anne's illness Mrs. Cavers had been so anxious about her +that she had hardly given a thought to anything else; but when the +little girl's perfect recovery seemed assured, she was confronted +again by the problem of their future. Libby Anne's illness, in spite +of the neighbours' and the doctor's kindness, had made a hole in the +two hundred dollars the Watsons had given her. She still had some +money left from her share of the crop, but she would need that for +new clothes for herself and Libby Anne; there would be the price of +their tickets, and the other expenses of the journey, and she must +save enough to buy her ticket back to Manitoba. + +Of course, there were still the two cows and the hens, which the +neighbours had kindly taken care of for her, and there was some old +machinery, but she did not expect that she would get much from the +sale of it. + +The first day that Libby Anne was able to walk, Dr. Clay came out to +see her, and brought to Mrs. Cavers a letter from the new tenant who +had rented the Steadman farm. The letter stated that the writer was +anxious to buy all her furniture, machinery and stock, and wanted to +make her an offer of three hundred dollars cash for them. + +Mrs. Cavers read the letter with astonishment. She had never hoped +for such a price. "Now, doctor," she said, "you've been to me one of +the best friends any one ever had. Tell me one thing--is Sandy Braden +paying part of this?" + +Dr. Clay was prepared for the question and answered evasively. "I'll +bring the man here to see you--he's an old Indiana farmer with lots +of money, and you know your implements are in very good shape. I went +out with him to the farm, and together we figured out what the stuff +was worth. Here is the list; he is perfectly satisfied if you are." + +Mrs. Cavers shook her head doubtfully. "I know that the stuff is not +worth more than half that amount, and I know very well that either +you or Mr. Braden has fixed this up for me to let me still feel +independent and have my trip back home. I know that, but I'm going to +take it, doctor, without a word. I am not even going to try to thank +you. I haven't seen my mother or any of my own people for twelve +years. It has been my sweetest dream that some day I would go back +home, and now it looks as if the dream were coming true. I am like a +little hungry boy who has been looking at a peach in a shop window +for days and days and days, desiring without hope, when suddenly +someone comes out and puts it in his hand--he will quite likely run +away with it without so much as thanking his kind friend, but he's +grateful just the same. That's the way it is with me, doctor; I am +grateful, too, so grateful that I can't talk about it." + +A month later Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne arrived safely home, and +Libby Anne's enraptured eyes beheld the tall maple trees, the bed of +red and yellow tulips, and the budding horse-chestnuts of her dreams. +The grandmother, a gentle, white-haired old lady, looked anxiously +and often at her widowed daughter's face, so worn and tired, so +cruelly marked by the twelve hard years; and although Mrs. Cavers +told them but little of her past life that was gloomy and sad, yet +the mother's keen eyes of love read the story in her daughter's +work-worn hands, her gray hair, and the furrows that care and +sorrow had left in her face. She followed her about with tenderest +solicitude, always planning for her comfort and pleasure. She often +sat beside Mrs. Cavers when, in the quiet afternoon, she lay in the +hammock on the veranda. Always as they talked the mother was thinking +of the evil days that the world had held for her poor girl, and +planning in every way her loving heart could devise to make it up to +her, after the fashion of mothers the wide world over. + +To Mrs. Cavers, the spring and summer days were full of peace +and happiness. The quiet restfulness of her mother's home--the +well-appointed rooms, the old-fashioned piano, with its yellow keys, +in the back parlour, the dear familiar pictures on the walls--all +these seemed to soothe her tired heart. The garden, with its patch +of ribbongrass, its sumach trees and scarlet runners, was full of +pleasant associations, and when she sat in the little vine-covered +summer-house and listened to the birds nesting in the trees above, +the long twelve years she had lived seemed like a bad dream, hazy and +unreal--the real things were the birds and the vines, and her +mother's love. + +July came in warm and sultry, but behind the morning-glory vines that +closed in the small veranda it was always cool and pleasant. One day +Mrs. Cavers, lying in the hammock, was looking at the sweet face of +her mother, who sat knitting beside her. All afternoon, as she lay +there, she had been thinking of the hot, busy days on the farm which +she must soon face--the busy, busy farm, where the work has to be +done, for the men must be fed. Each day she seemed to dread it +more--the early rising, the long, long hours, the constant hurry and +rush, the interminable washing of heavy, white dishes in a hot little +kitchen, reeking with tobacco smoke. She had gone through it many +times, cheerfully, bravely, for there had always been in her heart +the hope of something better--good days would surely come, when her +husband would do better, and they would be happy yet. This thought +had sustained her many times, but the good, days had never come, and +now--how could she go back to it with no hope. There was nothing +ahead of her but endless toil, just working every day to earn a +living. Oh, was life really such a priceless boon that people should +crave it so! + +"Must you really go back to the West, Ellie dear?" her mother asked, +as if she read her daughter's bitter thoughts. + +Mrs. Cavers sat up and smiled bravely. "Oh, yes, mother, it's the +West for me; but some day we'll come back again for another one of +these dear, lovely visits. I always felt I would never really be +rested until I got back here and had you to sit beside me. But, of +course, I must go back for the harvest--it is really a beautiful +country, and especially so in the fall of the year, and I have some +business there which I must go and attend to." She did not tell the +nature of the business. + +"Ellie, I would like to have you always with me, and your dear little +girl--there's only the four of us, and we are so happy here. Why +can't you stay with us?" + +Mrs. Cavers knew why, but she could not tell her mother that she had +very little in the world beyond the price of a ticket back to +Manitoba. + +"I've been praying every day since you came, Ellie, that we would +never need to part again," her mother said wistfully. "I can't let +you go, it seems." + +Just then the gate clicked and a heavy step came rapidly up the walk. +Mrs. Cavers, starting to her feet, found herself face to face with +Sandy Braden as he came up the steps. + +For a few seconds neither of them spoke. Then Mrs. Cavers held out +her hand. "Mr. Braden," she said. Words failed her. + +"I want to speak to you for a few minutes," he said. + +She opened the door and led him into the little parlour. + +"Mrs. Cavers, I know that my presence is full of bitter memories for +you," he began. "You have no reason to think kindly of me, I well +know; but no one else could do this for me, or I would not force +myself on you this way----" + +She interrupted him. "You were kind to me and my little girl once; +you did for us what few would have done. I have never thanked you, +but I have always been and always will be grateful; and when I think +of you--that is what I remember." + +There was a silence between them for a few seconds. Then he spoke. + +"I don't know how to begin to say what I want to say. I did you a +great wrong--you, and others, too; not willfully, but I did it just +the same. I can never make amends. Oh, forgive me for talking about +making amends--but you're not the only one who has suffered; it's +with me night and day. I can see Bill's face that day--on the +river-bank! I liked Bill, too. As you know, I closed the bar that day +forever, but it was too late--to help Bill." + +Mrs. Cavers was holding the back of a chair, her face colourless and +drawn. + +"I heard a few days ago that you were coming back to Manitoba to +work, to earn your living and the little girl's. I can't stand +that--I had to come--Oh, don't scorn me like that--let me help you. +If it had not been for my bar you would have had plenty. I want +you to take this; it's the deed of a half-section of land near +Brandon--it will keep you in plenty. I'm a blundering fellow--I've +put it roughly, but God knows I mean it all right." + +He stopped and wiped the perspiration from his face. + +"I can't take it," Mrs. Cavers said, without moving. + +"You must!" he cried, moving nearer to her. "Don't refuse! Oh, Mrs. +Cavers, you were merciful to me once--do you mind how you held out +your hand to me that day? God bless you, it was like a drop of water +to a man in hell. Have mercy now; take a little of the burden from a +guilty man's heart." + +"I do forgive you freely, and I wish you well, but--I--I--can't take +your money," she whispered hoarsely. + +He walked up and down the room for a few moments, then turned to her +again. + +"Mrs. Cavers, I've been a guilty man, careless and hard, but that +day--on the river-bank--I saw things as I never saw them before, and +I'm trying to be square. My mother"--his voice broke and his eyes +glistened--"my mother has been in heaven twenty years. She always +told me about God's mercy to--the very worst--that He turned no one +down that came to Him. My mother was that kind herself, and knowing +her--has made it easier for me to believe that--God is always +merciful--and always willing--to give a fellow a--a second chance. I +can't look for it or ask it until--you take this. Now, Mrs. Cavers, I +know you don't like me--why should you?--but won't you take it?" + +She hesitated, and was about to refuse again, when he suddenly seized +her arm and compelled her to meet his gaze. + +"For God's sake!" he cried. + +Mrs. Cavers took the document in her trembling hands. + +Sandy Braden turned to leave the room, but she detained him. + +"Mr. Braden," she almost whispered, her voice was so low, "I have a +mother like yours, one who makes it easy to believe that God is +always loving and kind--I want her to thank you for me. Tell her all +about it--she'll understand, just like your own mother would--these +dear old mothers are all the same." + +Mrs. Cavers went back to the veranda and brought her mother into the +parlour; then she went out, leaving them alone. + +What passed between them no one ever knew, but an hour later Sandy +Braden went out from the little white cottage with a new light +shining in his face, and the peace of God, which passes all +understanding, in his heart. He went back into the world that day +destined to do a strong man's part in the years to come. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXV + +THE LURE OF LOVE AND THE WEST + + + If you've heard the wild goose honking, if you've + seen the sunlit plain, + If you've breathed the smell of ripe grain, dewy, wet, + You may go away and leave it, say you will not come + again, + But it's in your blood, you never can forget. + + +THERE is a belief, to which many sentimental people still hold, in +spite of all contradictory evidence, that marriages are arranged in +heaven, and that no amount of earthly wire-pulling can alter the +decrees of the Supreme Court. Many beautiful sentiments have been +expressed, bearing on this alluring theme, but none more +comprehensive than Aunt Kate Shenstone's brief summary: "You'll get +whoever is for ye, and that's all there is to it." + +Theoretically, Mrs. Burrell was a believer in this doctrine of +non-resistance, modified, however, by the fact that she also +believed in the existence of earthly representatives of the heavenly +matrimonial bureau, to whom is entrusted the pleasing duty of +selecting and pairing. Of this glorious company, Mrs. Burrell +believed herself a member in good standing, and one who stood high +upon the honour roll. Therefore, having decided that Arthur should +marry Martha Perkins she proceeded to arrange the match with a +boldness that must have made the angels tremble. + +She planned an evening party, and wrote to Arthur asking him to bring +Martha, but forgot to send Martha an invitation, which rather upset +her plans, for Martha declined to go. Mrs. Burrell, however, not to +be outdone, took Arthur aside and talked to him very seriously about +his matrimonial prospects; but Arthur brought the conversation to an +abrupt close by telling her he had not the slightest intention of +marrying, and had quite made up his mind to go back to England as +soon as the harvest was over. + +When Mrs. Burrell was telling her husband about it she was almost in +tears. + +"If he goes to England, John, we'll never see him again; he'll marry +an English girl--I know it. They're so thick over there he can't help +it, when he sees so many dangling after him! He'll just have to marry +one of them." + +"To thin them out, I suppose you mean," her husband said, smiling. +"Don't worry, anyway, and above all things, don't interfere. Leave +something for Providence to do." + +After Mrs. Cavers and Libby Anne had gone, life in the Perkins's home +settled down to its old pleasing monotony. The schoolmaster found +Martha a willing and apt pupil, and came to look forward with +pleasure to the evenings he spent helping her to understand the world +in which she was living. Dr. Emory paid his regular visits, seeking +with the magic arts of music to draw Arthur's thoughts down the +pleasant lanes of love. Pearl Watson, like a true general, kept a +strict oversight of everything, but apparently took no active part +herself; only on Saturday afternoons, which she usually spent with +Martha, she had Martha tell her the stories she had read during the +week. At first the telling was haltingly done, for Martha was not +gifted with fluent speech, but under the spell of Pearl's sympathetic +listening, her story-telling powers developed amazingly. + +When the summer days came, with their wealth of flowers and singing +birds, to Martha the whole face of Nature seemed changed; she heard +new music in the meadowlark's ringing note, and the plaintive piping +of the whippoorwill. The wild roses' fragrant beauty, the gorgeous +colouring of the tiger-lilies and moccasin flowers, the changing hues +of the grainfields at noon-day as the drifting clouds threw racing +shadows over them, were all possessed of a new charm, a new power to +thrill her heart, for the old miracle of love and hope had come to +Martha, the old witchery that has made "blue skies bluer and green +things greener," for us all. There was the early rising in the dewy +mornings when the river-valley was filled with silvery mist, through +which the trees loomed gray and ghostly; there was the quivering heat +of noonday, that played strange tricks on the southern horizon, when +even the staid old Tiger Hills seemed to pulsate with the joy of +summer; and, then the evenings, when the day's work was done, and the +western sky was all aglow with crimson and gold. + +One quiet Sunday evening in harvest time, Martha and Arthur stood +beside the lilac hedge and watched the sun going down behind the +Brandon Hills. Before them stretched the long field of ripening +grain. There was hardly a leaf stirring on the trees over their +heads, but the tall grain rustled and whispered of the abundance of +harvest. + +As they listened to the rustling of the wheat Martha said: "I have +been trying to think what it sounds like, but can think of nothing +better than the bursting of soap-bubbles on a tub of water, and +that's a very unpoetical comparison." + +"I think it's a very good one, though," Arthur said, absently. + +"And it seems to whisper: 'Plenty, plenty, plenty,' as if it would +tell us we need not rush and worry so," she went on. "I love to +listen to it. It has such a contented sound." + +Arthur sighed wearily, and looking up, Martha saw his face was sad +with bitter memories. + +"What is it, Arthur?" she said, drawing nearer in quick sympathy. + +"I'm all right," he answered quickly, but, with an effort; "just a +little bit blue, perhaps." + +"How can anyone be blue to-night with everything so beautiful and +full of promise?" Martha cried. + +"There are other things--beside these," he said gloomily. + +Martha shrank back at his words, for she knew of whom he was +thinking. Then a sudden rage seized her, and she turned and faced him +with a new light burning in her eyes. + +"You must forget her!" she cried. "You must! She cares nothing for +you. She, never loved you, or she would not have treated you so +badly. She soon let you go when she got what she thought, was a +better chance. Why do you go on loving her?" She seized his arm and +shook him. "It's foolish, it's weak--why do you do it? I wouldn't +waste a thought on any one who cares nothing for me--it isn't--it +isn't----" she stopped abruptly, and the colour surged into her pale +face. + +"Oh, Arthur, forgive me for speaking so." All the anger had gone from +her voice. "I cannot bear to see you so unhappy. Try to forget her. +The world is wide and beautiful." + +In the western sky a band of crimson circled the horizon. + +"Martha," Arthur said gently, "you are one of the truest friends a +fellow ever had, and I know you think I am foolish and sentimental, +but I am just a little bit upset to-day. I saw her last night--she +and--her husband were on the train going to Winnipeg, and I saw them +at the station. She's lovelier than ever. This sounds foolish to you, +I know, Martha, but that's because you don't know. I hope you will +never know." + +Martha turned away hastily. + +"All this," he continued, waving his hand toward the evening sky and +the quiet landscape, "all this reminds me of her. You know, Martha, +when you look at the sun for a while you can see suns everywhere you +look; that's the way it is with me." + +The colour was fading from the sky; only the faintest trace of +rose-pink tinged the gray clouds. + +"I think I shall go home to England," Arthur said, after a long +silence. "I shall go home for a while, and then, perhaps--pshaw! I +don't know what I shall do." In the failing light he could not see +the pallor of Martha's face, neither did he notice that she shivered +as if with cold. + +The sunset glory had all gone from the clouds; there was nothing left +now but the ashes. + +"I am sorry you are going," Martha said steadily. "We will miss you." + +The schoolmaster, who was sitting by the kitchen window, noticed +Martha's white face when she came into the house and guessed the +cause. Looking after Arthur as he walked rapidly down the road to his +own house, Mr. Donald shook his head sadly, murmuring to himself: +"Lord, who did sin, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" + +When Martha went up to her own room she sat before the mirror as she +had done that at other night two years before, and looked sadly at +her face reflected there. She recalled his words: "She is lovelier +than ever"--this was what had won and held his love. Oh, this cruel, +unjust world, where the woman without beauty has to go lonely, +hungry, unmated--it was not fair; she stretched out her arms in an +agony of longing. + +"Thursa cares nothing for him, and I would gladly die to save him +pain!" she whispered hoarsely. + +She tore off her collar roughly and threw it from her; she took down +her hair and brushed it almost savagely; then she went to the open +window, and, leaning on the casement, listened to the rustling of the +wheat. It no longer sang to her of peace and plenty, but inexorable, +merciless as the grave itself, it spoke to her of heart-break and +hopes that never come true. + +* * * + +In September Arthur went to England. After he had gone, Martha went +about her work with the same quiet cheerfulness. She had always been +a kind-hearted neighbour, but now she seemed to delight in deeds of +mercy. She still studied with the school-master, who daily admired +the bravery with which she hid her heartache. Martha was making a +fight, a brave fight, with an unjust world. She would study--she +would fit herself yet for some position in life when her parents no +longer needed her. Surely, there was some place where a woman would +not be disqualified because she was not beautiful. + +Arthur had written regularly to her. Looking ahead, she dreaded the +time when he would cease to write, though she tried to prepare for it +by telling herself over and over again that it must surely come. + +Arthur's last letter came in November, and now with Christmas coming +nearer, Martha was lonelier than ever for a word from him. The week +before Christmas she looked for his letter every day. Christmas eve +came, a beautiful moonlight, sparkling night, with the merry jingle +of sleighbells, in the air, but no letter had yet come. + +Mr. and Mrs. Perkins and Bud had driven in to Millford to attend the +concert given by the Sunday-school, but Martha stayed at home. When +they were gone, and she sat alone in the quiet house, a great +restlessness seized her. She tried to read and then to sew, but her +mind, in spite of her, would go back to happier days. It was not +often that Martha allowed herself to indulge in self-pity; but +to-night, as she looked squarely into the future and saw it +stretching away before her, barren and gray, it seemed hard to keep +back the tears. It was not like Martha to give way to her emotions; +perhaps it was the Christmas feel in the air that gripped her heart +with new tenderness. + +She finished making the pudding for the Christmas dinner, and put the +last coat of icing on the Christmas cake, and then forced herself to +dress another doll for one of the neighbour's children. Sometimes the +tears dimmed her eyes, but she wiped them away bravely. + +Suddenly a loud knock sounded on the door. Martha sprang up in some +confusion, and hastily tried to hide the traces of her tears, but +before she was ready to open the door it opened from without and +Arthur stood smiling before her. + +"Oh, Arthur!" she cried, her face glowing with the love she could not +hide. "I was just thinking that you had stopped writing to me." + +"Well, I have, too," he laughed; "letters are not much good anyway. I +knew you were here, for I met the others on the road," he continued, +as he hung his overcoat on its old nail behind the door, "and so I +hurried along, for I have a great many things to tell you. No," in +answer to her question, "I have not had supper--I couldn't wait. I +wanted to see you. I've made, a big discovery." + +Martha had put the tea-kettle on and was stirring the fire. + +"Don't bother getting any supper for me until I tell you what I found +out." + +She turned around and faced him, her heart beating faster at the +eagerness in his voice. + +"Martha, dear," he said, "I cannot do without you--that's the +discovery I made. I have been lonely--lonely for this broad prairie +and you. The Old Country seemed to stifle me; everything is so little +and crowded and bunched up, and so dark and foggy--it seemed to +smother me. I longed to hear the whirr of prairie chickens and see +the wild ducks dipping in the river; I longed to hear the sleighs +creaking over the frosty roads; and so I've come home to all +this--and you, Martha," He came nearer and held out his arms. "You're +the girl for me." + +Martha drew away from him. "Arthur, are you sure?" she cried. +"Perhaps it's just the country you're in love with. Are you sure it +isn't just the joy of getting back to it all. It can't be me--I am +only a plain country girl, not pretty, not educated, not clever, +not----" + +He interrupted her in a way that made further speech not only +impossible but quite unnecessary. + +"Martha, I tell you it is you that makes me love this country. When I +thought of the sunlit prairie it was your dear eyes that made it +glorious. Your voice is sweeter than the meadowlark's song at +sunrise. You are the soul of this country for me--you stand for it +all. You are the sunshine, the birdsong, the bracing air, the broad +outlook, the miles of golden wheat. Now, tell me, dear, for you +haven't told me yet, are you glad to see me back?" + +"But what would your mother say?" Martha asked, evading his question. +"Arthur, think of the people at home." + +He opened his pocket-book and took out a leather case. Springing the +lid, he handed it to her, saying: "My mother knows all about you, and +she sends you this." + +Martha took out the beautiful necklace of pearls and read the tender +little note, inside the case. Her eyes filled with happy tears, and +looking up into Arthur's smiling face, her last doubt vanished. + +A few hours later, when the old clock on the wall, slowly struck the +midnight hour, telling them that another Christmas morning had come, +they listened to it, hand in hand without a spoken word, but in their +hearts was the echo of all the Christmas bells that were ringing +around the world. + + + +***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SECOND CHANCE*** + + +******* This file should be named 22076.txt or 22076.zip ******* + + +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/2/0/7/22076 + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution. + + + +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +http://www.gutenberg.org/license). + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. +To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.org + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + diff --git a/22076.zip b/22076.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..afbdc24 --- /dev/null +++ b/22076.zip diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3dc1728 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #22076 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/22076) |