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diff --git a/14150-h/14150-h.htm b/14150-h/14150-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7426c7 --- /dev/null +++ b/14150-h/14150-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9041 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Light in the Clearing, by Irving Bacheller</title> +<style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .pagenum {position: absolute; left: 92%; font-size: smaller; text-align: right;} /* page numbers */ + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + a:link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + link {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:visited {color:blue; + text-decoration:none} + a:hover {color:red} + pre {font-size: 8pt;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ +</style> +</head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14150 ***</div> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Light in the Clearing, by Irving +Bacheller, Illustrated by Arthur I. Keller</h1> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="images/illus001.jpg"><img src= +"images/illus001.jpg" width="55%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>The Silent Woman stood, pointing at him with her +finger</b> +<p> </p> +<br /> +<br /> +</div> +<div> +<h1>THE LIGHT IN<br /> +THE CLEARING</h1> +<br /> +<h3><i>A Tale of the North Country<br /> +in the Time of Silas Wright</i></h3> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h2>IRVING BACHELLER</h2> +<h4>AUTHOR OF<br /> +<i>EBEN HOLDEN</i>, <i>KEEPING UP WITH LIZZIE</i>, ETC.</h4> +<br /> +<h5>ILLUSTRATED BY</h5> +<h3>ARTHUR I. KELLER.</h3> +</div> +<div class="figcenter"><i>The Spirit of Man is the Candle of the +Lord</i><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 12.5em;">—PROVERBS XX, +27</span></div> +<h4>1917</h4> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<br /> +TO MY FRIEND<br /> +THOMAS R. PROCTOR, OF UTICA<br /> +LOVER OF THE TRUE IDEALS OF DEMOCRACY<br /> +WHOSE LIFE HAS BEEN A SHINING EXAMPLE TO ALL MEN OF WEALTH<br /> +HONORED GENTLEMAN AND PHILANTHROPIST<br /> +AT THE GATE OF THE LAND OF<br /> +WHICH I HAVE WRITTEN<br /> +DEDICATE THESE CHRONICLES OF THAT LAND<br /> +AND OF ITS GREAT HERO</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>FOREWORD</h2> +<p><i>From the memoirs of one who knew Governor Wright and lived +through many of the adventures herein described and whose life +ended full of honors early in the present century. It is understood +that he chose the name Barton to signalize his affection for a +friend well known in the land of which he was writing.</i></p> +<p>THE AUTHOR.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>PREFACE</h2> +<p>The Light in the Clearing shone upon many things and mostly upon +those which, above all others, have impassioned and perpetuated the +Spirit of America and which, just now, seem to me to be worthy of +attention. I believe that spirit to be the very candle of the Lord +which, in this dark and windy night of time, has flickered so that +the souls of the faithful have been afraid. But let us be of good +cheer. It is shining brighter as I write and, under God, I believe +it shall, by and by, be seen and loved of all men.</p> +<p>One self-contained, Homeric figure, of the remote countryside in +which I was born, had the true Spirit of Democracy and shed its +light abroad in the Senate of the United States and the Capitol at +Albany. He carried the candle of the Lord. It led him to a height +of self-forgetfulness achieved by only two others—Washington +and Lincoln. Yet I have been surprised by the profound and general +ignorance of this generation regarding the career of Silas Wright, +of whom Whittier wrote these lines:</p> +<div class="blockquot">"Man of the millions thou art lost too +soon!<br /> +Portents at which the bravest stand aghast<br /> +The birth throes of a future strange and vast<br /> +Alarm the land. Yet thou so wise and strong<br /> +Suddenly summoned to the burial bed,<br /> +Lapped in its slumbers deep and ever long,<br /> +Hear'st not the tumult surging over head.<br /> +Who now shall rally Freedom's scattering host?<br /> +Who wear the mantle of the leader lost?"</div> +<p>The distinguished Senator who served at his side for many years, +Thomas H. Benton of Missouri, has this to say of Silas Wright in +his <i>Thirty Years' View</i>:</p> +<p>"He refused cabinet appointments under his fast friend Van Buren +and under Polk, whom he may be said to have elected. He refused a +seat on the bench of the Supreme Court of the United States; he +rejected instantly the nomination of 1844 for Vice-President; he +refused to be put in nomination for the Presidency. He spent that +time in declining office which others did in winning it. The +offices he did accept, it might well be said, were thrust upon him. +He was born great and above office and unwillingly descended to +it."</p> +<p>So much by way of preparing the reader to meet the great +commoner in these pages. One thing more is necessary to a proper +understanding of the final scenes in the book—a part of his +letter written to Judge Fine just before the Baltimore convention +of 1844, to wit:</p> +<p>"I do not feel at liberty to omit any act which may protect me +from being made the instrument, however honestly and innocently, of +further distractions.</p> +<p>"Within a few days several too partial friends have suggested to +me the idea that by possibility, in case the opposition to the +nomination of Mr. Van Buren should be found irreconcilable, a +compromise might be made by dropping him and using my name. I need +not say to you that a consent on my part to any such proceeding +would justly forfeit my standing with the democracy of our state +and cause my faith and fidelity to my party to be suspected +everywhere.... To consent to the use of my name as a candidate +under any circumstances, would be in my view to invite you to +compromise the expressed wishes and instructions of your +constituents for my personal advancement. I can never consent to +place myself in a position where the suspicion of acting from such +a motive can justly attach to me....</p> +<p>"If it were proper I could tell you with the most perfect truth +that I have never been vain enough to dream of the office of +President in connection with my own name, and were not Mr. Van +Buren the candidate of our State, I should find just as little +difficulty as I now do, in telling you that I am not and can not +under any circumstances be a candidate before your convention for +that office."</p> +<p>According to his best biographer, Jabez Hammond, Mr. Wright +still adhered to this high ground in spite of the fact that Mr. Van +Buren withdrew and requested his faithful hand to vote for the +Senator.</p> +<p>There were those who accused Mr. Wright of being a spoilsman, +the only warrant for which claim would seem to be his remark in a +letter: "When our enemies accuse us of feeding our friends instead +of them never let them lie in telling the story."</p> +<p>He was, in fact, a human being, through and through, but so +upright that they used to say of him that he was "as honest as any +man under heaven or in it"</p> +<p>For my knowledge of the color and spirit of the time I am +indebted to a long course of reading in its books, newspapers and +periodicals, notably <i>The North American Review, The United +States Magazine and Democratic Review, The New York Mirror, The +Knickerbocker, The St. Lawrence Republican</i>, Benton's <i>Thirty +Years' View</i>, Bancroft's <i>Life of Martin Van Buren</i>, +histories of Wright and his time by Hammond and Jenkins, and to +many manuscript letters of the distinguished commoner in the New +York Public Library and in the possession of Mr. Samuel Wright of +Weybridge, Vermont.</p> +<p>To any who may think that they discover portraits in these pages +I desire to say that all the characters—save only Silas +Wright and President Van Buren and Barton Baynes—are purely +imaginary. However, there were Grimshaws and Purvises and Binkses +and Aunt Deels and Uncle Peabodys in almost every rustic +neighborhood those days, and I regret to add that Roving Kate was +on many roads. The case of Amos Grimshaw bears a striking +resemblance to that of young Bickford, executed long ago in Malone, +for the particulars of which case I am indebted to my friend, Mr. +H.L. Ives of Potsdam.</p> +<p>THE AUTHOR.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> +<div class="figcenter"><a href="#BOOK_ONE"><b>BOOK +ONE</b></a><br /> +WHICH IS THE STORY OF THE CANDLE AND COMPASS<br /> +<table summary=""> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">I </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_I">The Melon Harvest</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">II </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_II">I Meet the Silent Woman and Silas Wright, +Jr</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">III </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_III">We Go to Meeting and See Mr. Wright +Again</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">IV </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">Our Little Strange Companion</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">V </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_V">In the Light of the Candles</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">VI </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">The Great Stranger</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">VII </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">My Second Peril</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">VIII </a></td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">My Third Peril</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /> +<a href="#BOOK_TWO"><b>BOOK TWO</b></a><br /> +WHICH IS THE STORY OF THE PRINCIPAL WITNESS<br /> +<table summary=""> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">IX</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">In Which I Meet Other Great Men</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">X</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_X">I Meet President Van Buren and Am<br /> +Cross-Examined by Mr. Grimshaw</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">XI</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">A Party and—My Fourth +Peril?</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">XII</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">The Spirit of Michael Henry and +Others</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">XIII</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">The Thing and Other Things</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">XIV</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">The Bolt Falls</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<br /> +<a href="#BOOK_THREE"><b>BOOK THREE</b></a><br /> +WHICH IS THE STORY OF THE CHOSEN WAYS<br /> +<table summary=""> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">XV</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">Uncle Peabody's Way and Mine</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">XVI</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">I Use My Own Compass at a Fork in the +Road</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">XVII</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">The Man with the Scythe</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href= +"#CHAPTER_XVIII">XVIII</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">I Start in a Long Way</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td align="right"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">XIX</a> </td> +<td><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">On the Summit</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> +<td> </td> +<td><a href="#EPILOGUE">Epilogue</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_ONE" id="BOOK_ONE"></a>BOOK ONE</h2> +<h3>Which is the Story of the Candle and the Compass</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2>THE LIGHT IN THE CLEARING</h2> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>THE MELON HARVEST</h3> +<p>Once upon a time I owned a watermelon. I say once because I +never did it again. When I got through owning that melon I never +wanted another. The time was 1831; I was a boy of seven and the +melon was the first of all my harvests. Every night and morning I +watered and felt and surveyed my watermelon. My pride grew with the +melon and, by and by, my uncle tried to express the extent and +nature of my riches by calling me a mellionaire.</p> +<p>I didn't know much about myself those days except the fact that +my name was Bart Baynes and, further, that I was an orphan who +owned a watermelon and a little spotted hen and lived on Rattle +road in a neighborhood called Lickitysplit. I lived with my Aunt +Deel and my Uncle Peabody Baynes on a farm. They were brother and +sister—he about thirty-eight and she a little beyond the +far-distant goal of forty.</p> +<p>My father and mother died in a scourge of diphtheria that swept +the neighborhood when I was a boy of five. For a time my Aunt Deel +seemed to blame me for my loss.</p> +<p>"No wonder they're dead," she used to say, when out of patience +with me and—well I suppose that I must have had an unusual +talent for all the noisy arts of childhood when I broke the silence +of that little home.</p> +<p>The word "dead" set the first mile-stone in the long stretch of +my memory. That was because I tried so hard to comprehend it and +further because it kept repeating its challenge to my imagination. +I often wondered just what had become of my father and mother and I +remember that the day after I went to my aunt's home a great idea +came to me. It came out of the old dinner-horn hanging in the shed. +I knew the power of its summons and I slyly captured the horn and +marched around the house blowing it and hoping that it would bring +my father up from the fields. I blew and blew and listened for that +familiar halloo of his. When I paused for a drink of water at the +well my aunt came and seized the horn and said it was no wonder +they were dead. She knew nothing of the sublime bit of necromancy +she had interrupted—poor soul!</p> +<p>I knew that she had spoken of my parents for I supposed that +they were the only people in the world who were dead, but I did not +know what it meant to be dead. I often called to them, as I had +been wont to do, especially in the night, and shed many tears +because they came no more to answer me. Aunt Deel did not often +refer directly to my talents, but I saw, many times, that +no-wonder-they-died look in her face.</p> +<p>Children are great rememberers. They are the recording +angels—the keepers of the book of life. Man forgets—how +easily!—and easiest of all, the solemn truth that children do +<i>not</i> forget.</p> +<p>A few days after I arrived in the home of my aunt and uncle I +slyly entered the parlor and climbed the what-not to examine some +white flowers on its top shelf and tipped the whole thing over, +scattering its burden of albums, wax flowers and sea shells on the +floor. My aunt came running on her tiptoes and exclaimed: "Mercy! +Come right out o' here this minute—you pest!"</p> +<p>I took some rather long steps going out which were due to the +fact that Aunt Deel had hold of my hand. While I sat weeping she +went back into the parlor and began to pick up things.</p> +<p>"My wreath! my wreath!" I heard her moaning.</p> +<p>How well I remember that little assemblage of flower ghosts in +wax! They had no more right to associate with human beings than the +ghosts of fable. Uncle Peabody used to call them the "Minervy +flowers" because they were a present from his Aunt Minerva. When +Aunt Deel returned to the kitchen where I sat—a sorrowing +little refugee hunched up in a corner—she said: "I'll have to +tell your Uncle Peabody—ayes!"</p> +<p>"Oh please don't tell my Uncle Peabody," I wailed.</p> +<p>"Ayes! I'll have to tell him," she answered firmly.</p> +<p>For the first time I looked for him with dread at the window and +when he came I hid in a closet and heard that solemn and +penetrating note in her voice as she said:</p> +<p>"I guess you'll have to take that boy away—ayes!"</p> +<p>"What now?" he asked.</p> +<p>"My stars! he sneaked into the parlor and tipped over the +what-not and smashed that beautiful wax wreath!"</p> +<p>Her voice trembled.</p> +<p>"Not them Minervy flowers?" he asked in a tone of doleful +incredulity.</p> +<p>"Ayes he did!"</p> +<p>"And tipped over the hull what-not?"</p> +<p>"Ayes!"</p> +<p>"Jerusalem four-corners!" he exclaimed. "I'll have +to—"</p> +<p>He stopped as he was wont to do on the threshold of strong +opinions and momentous resolutions.</p> +<p>The rest of the conversation was drowned in my own cries and +Uncle Peabody came and lifted me tenderly and carried me +up-stairs.</p> +<p>He sat down with me on his lap and hushed my cries. Then he said +very gently:</p> +<p>"Now, Bub, you and me have got to be careful. What-nots and +albums and wax flowers and hair-cloth sofys are the most dang'rous +critters in St. Lawrence County. They're purty savage. Keep your +eye peeled. You can't tell what minute they'll jump on ye. More +boys have been dragged away and tore to pieces by `em than by all +the bears and panthers in the woods. When I was a boy I got a cut +acrost my legs that made a scar ye can see now, and it was a +hair-cloth sofy that done it. Keep out o' that old parlor. Ye might +as well go into a cage o' wolves. How be I goin' to make ye +remember it?"</p> +<p>"I don't know," I whimpered and began to cry out in fearful +anticipation.</p> +<p>He set me in a chair, picked up one of his old carpet-slippers +and began to thump the bed with it. He belabored the bed with +tremendous vigor. Meanwhile he looked at me and exclaimed: "You +dreadful child!"</p> +<p>I knew that my sins were responsible for this violence. It +frightened me and my cries increased.</p> +<p>The door at the bottom of the stairs opened suddenly.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel called:</p> +<p>"Don't lose your temper, Peabody. I think you've gone fur +'nough—ayes!"</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody stopped and blew as if he were very tired and then +I caught a look in his face that reassured me.</p> +<p>He called back to her: "I wouldn't 'a' cared so much if it +hadn't 'a' been the what-not and them Minervy flowers. When a boy +tips over a what-not he's goin' it purty strong."</p> +<p>"Well don't be too severe. You'd better come now and git me a +pail o' water—ayes, I think ye had."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody did a lot of sneezing and coughing with his big, +red handkerchief over his face and I was not old enough then to +understand it. He kissed me and took my little hand in his big hard +one and led me down the stairs.</p> +<p>After that in private talks uncle and I always referred to our +parlor as the wolf den and that night, after I had gone to bed, he +lay down beside me and told the story of a boy who, having been +left alone in his father's house one day, was suddenly set upon and +roughly handled by a what-not, a shaggy old hair-cloth sofy and an +album. The sofy had begun it by scratchin' his face and he had +scratched back with a shingle nail. The album had watched its +chance and, when he stood beneath it, had jumped off a shelf on to +his head. Suddenly he heard a voice calling him:</p> +<p>"Little boy, come here," it said, and it was the voice of the +what-not.</p> +<p>"Just step up on this lower shelf," says the old what-not. "I +want to show ye somethin'."</p> +<p>The what-not was all covered with shiny things and looked as +innocent as a lamb.</p> +<p>He went over and stepped on the lower shelf and then the savage +thing jumped right on top of him, very supple, and threw him on to +the floor and held him there until his mother came.</p> +<p>I dreamed that night that a long-legged what-not, with a wax +wreath in its hands, chased me around the house and caught and bit +me on the neck. I called for help and uncle came and found me on +the floor and put me back in bed again.</p> +<p>For a long time I thought that the way a man punished a boy was +by thumping his bed. I knew that women had a different and less +satisfactory method, for I remembered that my mother had spanked me +and Aunt Deel had a way of giving my hands and head a kind of +watermelon thump with the middle finger of her right hand and with +a curious look in her eyes. Uncle Peabody used to call it a +"snaptious look." Almost always he whacked the bed with his +slipper. There were exceptions, however, and, by and by, I came to +know in each case the destination of the slipper for if I had done +anything which really afflicted my conscience that strip of leather +seemed to know the truth, and found its way to my person.</p> +<p>My Uncle Peabody was a man of a thousand. I often saw him +laughing and talking to himself and strange fancies came into my +head about it.</p> +<p>"Who be you talkin' to?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Who be I talkin' to, Bub? Why I'm talkin' to my friends."</p> +<p>"Friends?" I said.</p> +<p>"The friends I orto have had but ain't got. When I git lonesome +I just make up a lot o' folks and some of 'em is good comp'ny."</p> +<p>He loved to have me with him, as he worked, and told me odd +tales and seemed to enjoy my prattle. I often saw him stand with +rough fingers stirring his beard, just beginning to show a sprinkle +of white, while he looked down at me as if struck with wonder at +something I had said.</p> +<p>"Come and give me a kiss, Bub," he would say. As he knelt down, +I would run to his arms and I wondered why he always blinked his +gray eyes after he had kissed me.</p> +<p>He was a bachelor and for a singular reason. I have always laid +it to the butternut trousers—the most sacred bit of apparel +of which I have any knowledge.</p> +<p>"What have you got on them butternut trousers for?" I used to +hear Aunt Deel say when he came down-stairs in his first best +clothes to go to meeting or "attend" a sociable—those days +people just went to meeting but they always "attended" +sociables—"You're a wearin' `em threadbare, ayes! I suppose +you've sot yer eyes on some one o' the girls. I can always +tell—ayes I can! When you git your long legs in them +butternut trousers I know you're warmin' up—ayes!"</p> +<p>I had begun to regard those light brown trousers with a feeling +of awe, and used to put my hand upon them very softly when uncle +had them on. They seemed to rank with "sofys," albums and what-nots +in their capacity for making trouble.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody rarely made any answer, and for a time thereafter +Aunt Deel acted as if she were about done with him. She would go +around with a stern face as if unaware of his presence, and I had +to keep out of her way. In fact I dreaded the butternut trousers +almost as much as she did.</p> +<p>Once Uncle Peabody had put on the butternut trousers, against +the usual protest, to go to meeting.</p> +<p>"Ayes! you've got 'em on ag'in," said Aunt Deel. "I suppose your +black trousers ain't good 'nough. That's 'cause you know Edna Perry +is goin' to be there—ayes!"</p> +<p>Edna Perry was a widow of about his age who was visiting her +sister in the neighborhood.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel wouldn't go to church with us, so we went off together +and walked home with Mrs. Perry. As we passed our house I saw Aunt +Deel looking out of the window and waved my hand to her.</p> +<p>When we got home at last we found my aunt sitting in her +armchair by the stove.</p> +<p>"You did it—didn't ye?—ayes," she demanded rather +angrily as we came in.</p> +<p>"Done what?" asked Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>"Shinin' up to that Perry woman—ain't ye?—ayes! I +see you're bound to git married—ayes!"</p> +<p>I had no idea what it meant to get married but I made up my mind +that it was something pretty low and bad. For the moment I blamed +Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel's voice and manner seemed to indicate that she had +borne with him to the limit of her patience.</p> +<p>"Delia," said my uncle, "I wouldn't be so—"</p> +<p>Again he checked himself for fear of going too far, I +suppose.</p> +<p>"My heart! my heart!" Aunt Deel exclaimed and struggled to her +feet sobbing, and Uncle Peabody helped her to the lounge. She was +so ill the rest of the day that my uncle had to go for the doctor +while I bathed her forehead with cold water.</p> +<p>Poor Uncle Peabody! Every step toward matrimony required such an +outlay of emotion and such a sacrifice of comfort that I presume it +seemed to be hardly worth while.</p> +<p>Yet I must be careful not to give the reader a false impression +of my Aunt Deel. She was a thin, pale woman, rather tall, with +brown hair and blue eyes and a tongue—well, her tongue has +spoken for itself. I suppose that she will seem inhumanly selfish +with this jealousy of her brother.</p> +<p>"I promised ma that I would look after you and I'm a-goin' to do +it—ayes!" I used to hear her say to my uncle.</p> +<p>There were not many married men who were so thoroughly looked +after. This was due in part to her high opinion of the Baynes +family, and to a general distrust of women. In her view they were a +designing lot. It was probably true that Mrs. Perry was fond of +show and would have been glad to join the Baynes family, but those +items should not have been set down against her. There was Aunt +Deel's mistake. She couldn't allow any humanity in other women.</p> +<p>She toiled incessantly. She washed and scrubbed and polished and +dusted and sewed and knit from morning until night. She lived in +mortal fear that company would come and find her +unprepared—Alma Jones or Jabez Lincoln and his wife, or Ben +and Mary Humphries, or "Mr. and Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg." These were +the people of whom she talked when the neighbors came in and when +she was not talking of the Bayneses. I observed that she always +said "Mr. and Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg." They were the conversational +ornaments of our home. "As Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg says," or, "as I +said to Mr. Horace Dunkelberg," were phrases calculated to +establish our social standing. I supposed that the world was +peopled by Joneses, Lincolns, Humphries and Dunkelbergs, but mostly +by Dunkelbergs. These latter were very rich people who lived in +Canton village.</p> +<p>I know, now, how dearly Aunt Deel loved her brother and me. I +must have been a great trial to that woman of forty unused to the +pranks of children and the tender offices of a mother. Naturally I +turned from her to my Uncle Peabody as a refuge and a help in time +of trouble with increasing fondness. He had no knitting or sewing +to do and when Uncle Peabody sat in the house he gave all his time +to me and we weathered many a storm together as we sat silently in +his favorite corner, of an evening, where I always went to sleep in +his arms.</p> +<p>He and I slept in the little room up-stairs, "under the +shingles"—as uncle used to say. I in a small bed, and he in +the big one which had been the receiver of so much violence. So I +gave her only a qualified affection until I could see beneath the +words and the face and the correcting hand of my Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>Uncle made up the beds in our room. Often his own bed would go +unmade. My aunt would upbraid him for laziness, whereupon he would +say that when he got up he liked the feel of that bed so much that +he wanted to begin next night right where he had left off.</p> +<p>I was seven years old when Uncle Peabody gave me the watermelon +seeds. I put one of them in my mouth and bit it.</p> +<p>"It appears to me there's an awful draft blowin' down your +throat," said Uncle Peabody. "You ain't no business eatin' a melon +seed."</p> +<p>"Why?" was my query.</p> +<p>"'Cause it was made to put in the ground. Didn't you know it was +alive?"</p> +<p>"Alive!" I exclaimed.</p> +<p>"Alive," said he, "I'll show ye."</p> +<p>He put a number of the seeds in the ground and covered them, and +said that that part of the garden should be mine. I watched it +every day and by and by two vines came up. One sickened and died in +dry weather. Uncle Peabody said that I must water the other every +day. I did it faithfully and the vine throve.</p> +<p>"What makes it grow?" I asked.</p> +<p>"The same thing that makes you grow," said Uncle Peabody. "You +can do lots of things but there's only one thing that a watermelon +can do. It can just grow. See how it reaches out toward the +sunlight! If we was to pull them vines around and try to make 'em +grow toward the north they wouldn't mind us. They'd creep back and +go reachin' toward the sunlight ag'in just as if they had a compass +to show 'em the way."</p> +<p>It was hard work, I thought, to go down into the garden, night +and morning, with my little pail full of water, but uncle said that +I should get my pay when the melon was ripe. I had also to keep the +wood-box full and feed the chickens. They were odious tasks. When I +asked Aunt Deel what I should get for doing them she answered +quickly:</p> +<p>"Nospanks and bread and butter—ayes!"</p> +<p>When I asked what were "nospanks" she told me that they were +part of the wages of a good child. I was better paid for my care of +the watermelon vine, for its growth was measured with a string +every day and kept me interested. One morning I found five blossoms +on it. I picked one and carried it to Aunt Deel. Another I +destroyed in the tragedy of catching a bumblebee which had crawled +into its cup. In due time three small melons appeared. When they +were as big as a baseball I picked two of them. One I tasted and +threw away as I ran to the pump for relief. The other I hurled at a +dog on my way to school.</p> +<p>So that last melon on the vine had my undivided affection. It +grew in size and reputation, and soon I learned that a reputation +is about the worst thing that a watermelon can acquire while it is +on the vine. I invited everybody that came to the house to go and +see my watermelon. They looked it over and said pleasant things +about it. When I was a boy people used to treat children and +watermelons with a like solicitude. Both were a subject for jests +and both produced similar reactions in the human countenance.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel often applied the watermelon test to my forehead and +discovered in me a capacity for noise which no melon could rival. +That act became very familiar to me, for when my melon was nearing +the summit of its fame and influence, all beholders thumped its +rounded side with the middle finger of the right hand, and said +that they guessed they'd steal it. I knew that this was some kind +of a joke and a very idle one for they had also threatened to steal +me and nothing had come of it.</p> +<p>At last Uncle Peabody agreed with me that it was about time to +pick the melon. I decided to pick it immediately after meeting on +Sunday, so that I could give it to my aunt and uncle at +dinner-time. When we got home I ran for the garden. My feet and +those of our friends and neighbors had literally worn a path to the +melon. In eager haste I got my little wheelbarrow and ran with it +to the end of that path. There I found nothing but broken vines! +The melon had vanished. I ran back to the house almost overcome by +a feeling of alarm, for I had thought long of that hour of pride +when I should bring the melon and present it to my aunt and +uncle.</p> +<p>"Uncle Peabody," I shouted, "my melon is gone."</p> +<p>"Well I van!" said he, "somebody must 'a' stole it."</p> +<p>"Stole it?" I repeated the words without fully comprehending +what they meant.</p> +<p>"But it was my melon," I said with a trembling voice.</p> +<p>"Yes and I vum it's too bad! But, Bart, you ain't learned yit +that there are wicked people in the world who come and take what +don't belong to 'em."</p> +<p>There were tears in my eyes when I asked:</p> +<p>"They'll bring it back, won't they?"</p> +<p>"Never!" said Uncle Peabody, "I'm afraid they've et it up."</p> +<p>He had no sooner said it than a cry broke from my lips, and I +sank down upon the grass moaning and sobbing. I lay amidst the +ruins of the simple faith of childhood. It was as if the world and +all its joys had come to an end.</p> +<p>"You can't blame the boy," I heard Uncle Peabody saying. "He's +fussed with that melon all summer. He wanted to give it to you for +a present."</p> +<p>"Ayes so he did! Well I declare! I never thought o' +that—ayes!"</p> +<p>Aunt Deel spoke in a low, kindly tone and came and lifted me to +my feet very tenderly.</p> +<p>"Come, Bart, don't feel so about that old melon," said she, "it +ain't worth it. Come with me. I'm goin' to give you a +present—ayes I be!"</p> +<p>I was still crying when she took me to her trunk, and offered +the grateful assuagement of candy and a belt, all embroidered with +blue and white beads.</p> +<p>"Now you see, Bart, how low and mean anybody is that takes what +don't belong to 'em—ayes! They're snakes! Everybody hates 'em +an' stamps on 'em when they come in sight—ayes!"</p> +<p>The abomination of the Lord was in her look and manner. How it +shook my soul! He who had taken the watermelon had also taken from +me something I was never to have again, and a very wonderful thing +it was—faith in the goodness of men. My eyes had seen evil. +The world had committed its first offense against me and my spirit +was no longer the white and beautiful thing it had been. Still, +therein is the beginning of wisdom and, looking down the long vista +of the years, I thank God for the great harvest of the lost +watermelon. Better things had come in its place—understanding +and what more, often I have vainly tried to estimate. For one thing +that sudden revelation of the heart of childhood had lifted my +aunt's out of the cold storage of a puritanic spirit, and warmed it +into new life and opened its door for me.</p> +<p>In the afternoon she sent me over to Wills' to borrow a little +tea. I stopped for a few minutes to play with Henry Wills—a +boy not quite a year older than I. While playing there I discovered +a piece of the rind of my melon in the dooryard. On that piece of +rind I saw the cross which I had made one day with my thumb-nail. +It was intended to indicate that the melon was solely and wholly +mine. I felt a flush of anger.</p> +<p>"I hate you," I said as I approached him.</p> +<p>"I hate you," he answered.</p> +<p>"You're a snake!" I said.</p> +<p>We now stood, face to face and breast to breast, like a pair of +young roosters. He gave me a shove and told me to go home. I gave +him a shove and told him I wouldn't. I pushed up close to him again +and we glared into each other's eyes.</p> +<p>Suddenly he spat in my face. I gave him a scratch on the +forehead with my finger-nails. Then we fell upon each other and +rolled on the ground and hit and scratched with feline +ferocity.</p> +<p>Mrs. Wills ran out of the house and parted us. Our blood was +hot, and leaking through the skin of our faces a little.</p> +<p>"He pitched on me," Henry explained.</p> +<p>I couldn't speak.</p> +<p>"Go right home—this minute—you brat!" said Mrs. +Wills in anger. "Here's your tea. Don't you ever come here +again."</p> +<p>I took the tea and started down the road weeping. What a bitter +day that was for me! I dreaded to face my aunt and uncle. Coming +through the grove down by our gate I met Uncle Peabody. With the +keen eyesight of the father of the prodigal son he had seen me +coming "a long way off" and shouted:</p> +<p>"Well here ye be—I was kind o' worried, Bub."</p> +<p>Then his eye caught the look of dejection in my gait and figure. +He hurried toward me. He stopped as I came sobbing to his feet.</p> +<p>"Why, what's the matter?" he asked gently, as he took the tea +cup from my hand, and sat down upon his heels.</p> +<p>I could only fall into his arms and express myself in the grief +of childhood. He hugged me close and begged me to tell him what was +the matter.</p> +<p>"That Wills boy stole my melon," I said, and the words came slow +with sobs.</p> +<p>"Oh, no he didn't," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>"Yes he did. I saw a piece o' the rin'."</p> +<p>"Well by—" said Uncle Peabody, stopping, as usual, at the +edge of the precipice.</p> +<p>"He's a snake," I added.</p> +<p>"And you fit and he scratched you up that way?"</p> +<p>"I scratched him, too."</p> +<p>"Don't you say a word about it to Aunt Deel. Don't ever speak o' +that miserable melon ag'in to anybody. You scoot around to the +barn, an' I'll be there in a minute and fix ye up."</p> +<p>He went by the road with the tea and I ran around to the lane +and up to the stable. Uncle Peabody met me there in a moment and +brought a pail of water and washed my face so that I felt and +looked more respectable.</p> +<p>"If Aunt Deel asks ye about them scratches you just tell her +that you and Hen had a little disagreement," said my uncle.</p> +<p>She didn't ask me, probably because Uncle Peabody had explained +in his own way, and requested her to say nothing.</p> +<p>The worst was over for that day but the Baynes-Wills feud had +begun. It led to many a fight in the school yard and on the way +home. We were so evenly matched that our quarrel went on for a long +time and gathered intensity as it continued.</p> +<p>One day Uncle Peabody had given me an egg and, said that there +was a chicken in it.</p> +<p>"All ye have to do is to keep it warm an' the chicken will come +to life, and when the hen is off the nest some day it will see +light through the shell and peck its way out," he explained.</p> +<p>He marked my initials on the egg and put it under a hen and by +and by a little chicken came out of the shell. I held it in my +palm—a quivering, warm handful of yellow down. Its +helplessness appealed to me and I fed and watched it every day. +Later my uncle told me that it was a hen chick and would be laying +eggs in four months. He added:</p> +<p>"It's the only thing it can do, an' if it's let alone it'll be +sure to do it. Follows a kind of a compass that leads to the nest +every time."</p> +<p>This chicken grew into a little spotted hen. She became my sole +companion in many a lonely hour when Uncle Peabody had gone to the +village, or was working in wet ground, or on the hay rack, or the +mowing machine where I couldn't be with him. She was an amiable, +confiding little hen who put her trust in me and kept it unto the +day of her death, which came not until she had reached the full +dignity of mature henhood.</p> +<p>She was like many things on the farm—of great but +unconsidered beauty. No far-fetched pheasant was half so beautiful +as she. I had always treated her with respect, and she would let me +come and sit beside her while she rolled in the dust and permit me +to stroke her head and examine her wonderful dress of glossy +mottled satin. She would spread her glowing sleeves in the +sunlight, and let me feel their downy lining with my fingers and +see how their taut snug-fitting plumes were set.</p> +<p>I remember a day when she was sitting on her nest with that +curious expression in her eyes which seemed to say, "Please don't +bother me now for this is my busy time," I brought three little +kittens from their basket in the wood-shed and put them under her. +The kittens felt the warmth of her body and began to mew and stir +about. I shall never forget the look of astonishment in the little +hen as she slowly rose in her nest and peered beneath her body at +the kittens. She looked at me as if to say that she really couldn't +be bothered with those furry things any longer—they made her +so nervous. She calmly took hold of one of them with her bill and +lifted it out of the nest. She continued this process of eviction +until they were all removed, when she quietly sat down again.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus040.jpg"><img src="images/illus040.jpg" width= +"50%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>Slowly her right hand rose above her</b></div> +<p>I mention this only to show that the hen and I had come to terms +of intimacy and mutual understanding. So when I saw Wills' dog +catch and kill her in the field one day, where she was hunting for +grasshoppers, I naturally entertained a feeling of resentment. I +heard the cries of the hen and ran through the orchard and +witnessed the end of the tragedy and more. Away down in the meadow +I saw the dog and farther away "the Wills boy," as we then called +him, running toward his home. The dog had run away as I approached +and when I picked up the lifeless body of my little friend the +hills seemed to lift up their heads and fall upon me. Of course +that Wills boy had set the dog on her. I shall write no more of +that hour of trial. Such little things make history, and it is +necessary that the reader should understand me.</p> +<p>One June day of the next summer Uncle Peabody and I, from down +in the fields, saw a fine carriage drive in at our gate. He stopped +and looked intently.</p> +<p>"Jerusalem four-corners!" he exclaimed. "It's Mr. and Mrs. +Horace Dunkelberg."</p> +<p>My heart beat fast at thought of the legendary Dunkelbergs. +Uncle looked me over from top to toe. "Heavens!" he exclaimed. "Go +down to the brook and wash the mud off yer feet an' legs."</p> +<p>I ran for the brook and before I had returned to my uncle I +heard the horn blow.</p> +<p>"The Dunkelbergs!—the Dunkelbergs! Come quick!" it seemed +to say.</p> +<p>Uncle had tied a red handkerchief around his neck and was +readjusting his galluses when I returned. In silence we hurried to +the house. As we drew near I heard the voice of Mrs. Horace +Dunkelberg and that of another woman quite as strange to my +ear—a high-pitched voice of melting amiability. It was the +company voice of my Aunt Deel. I had observed just a faint +suggestion of it when the neighbors came, or when meeting was over, +but I had never before heard the full-fledged angelicity of her +company voice. It astonished me and I began to regard her as a very +promising old lady. Uncle Peabody, himself, had undergone a change +in the presence of the Dunkelbergs. He held his neck straighter and +smiled more and spoke with greater deliberation.</p> +<p>Mr. Dunkelberg was a big, broad-shouldered, solemn-looking man. +Somehow his face reminded me of a lion's which I had seen in one of +my picture-books. He had a thick, long, outstanding mustache and +side whiskers, and deep-set eyes and heavy eyebrows. He stood for +half a moment looking down at me from a great height with his right +hand in his pocket. I heard a little jingle of coins down where his +hand was. It excited my curiosity. He took a step toward me and I +retreated. I feared, a little, this big, lion-like man. My fears +left me suddenly when he spoke in a small squeaky voice that +reminded me of the chirping of a bird.</p> +<p>"Little boy, come here and I will make you a present," said +he.</p> +<p>It reminded me of my disappointment when uncle tried to shoot +his gun at a squirrel and only the cap cracked.</p> +<p>I went to him and he laid a silver piece in the palm of my hand. +Aunt Deel began to hurry about getting dinner ready while Uncle +Peabody and I sat down on the porch with our guests, among whom was +a pretty blue-eyed girl of about my own age, with long, +golden-brown hair that hung in curls.</p> +<p>"Sally, this is Barton Baynes—can't you shake hands with +him?" said Mrs. Dunkelberg.</p> +<p>With a smile the girl came and offered me her hand and made a +funny bow and said that she was glad to see me. I took her hand +awkwardly and made no reply. I had never seen many girls and had no +very high opinion of them.</p> +<p>My attentive ears and eyes began to gather facts in the history +of the Dunkelbergs. Mr. Dunkelberg had throat trouble, and bought +butter and cheese and sent it to Boston, and had busted his voice +singing tenor, and was very rich. I knew that he was rich because +he had a gold watch and chain, and clothes as soft and clean as the +butternut trousers, and a silver ring on his finger, and such a big +round stomach. That stomach was the most convincing feature of all +and, indeed, I have since learned that the rounded type of human +architecture is apt to be more expensive than the angular.</p> +<p>As we sat there I heard the men talking about the great Silas +Wright, who had just returned to his home in Canton. He had not +entered my consciousness until then.</p> +<p>While I sat listening I felt a tweak of my hair, and looking +around I saw the Dunkelberg girl standing behind me with a saucy +smile on her face.</p> +<p>"Won't you come and play with me?" she asked.</p> +<p>I took her out in the garden to show her where my watermelon had +lain. At the moment I couldn't think of anything else to show her. +As we walked along I observed that her feet were in dainty shiny +button-shoes. Suddenly I began to be ashamed of my feet that were +browned by the sunlight and scratched by the briers. The absent +watermelon didn't seem to interest her.</p> +<p>"Let's play house in the grove," said she, and showed me how to +build a house by laying rows of stones with an opening for a +door.</p> +<p>"Now you be my husband," said she.</p> +<p>Oddly enough I had heard of husbands but had only a shadowy +notion of what they were. I knew that there was none in our +house.</p> +<p>"What's that?" I asked.</p> +<p>She laughed and answered: "Somebody that a girl is married +to."</p> +<p>"You mean a father?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Once I had a father," I boasted.</p> +<p>"Well, we'll play we're married and that you have just got home +from a journey. You go out in the woods and then you come home and +I'll meet you at the door."</p> +<p>I did as she bade me but I was not glad enough to see her.</p> +<p>"You must kiss me," she prompted in a whisper.</p> +<p>I kissed her very swiftly and gingerly—like one picking up +a hot coal—and she caught me in her arms and kissed me three +times while her soft hair threw its golden veil over our faces.</p> +<p>"Oh I'm so glad to see you," she said as she drew away from me +and shook back her hair.</p> +<p>"Golly! this is fun!" I said.</p> +<p>"Ask: 'How are the babies?'" she whispered.</p> +<p>"How are the babies?" I asked, feeling rather silly.</p> +<p>"They're fine. I'm just putting them to bed."</p> +<p>We sat on the grass and she had a stick which she pretended to +be dressing and often, after she had spanked the stick a little, +she made a noise through closed lips like that of a child +crying.</p> +<p>"Now go to sleep and I'll tell you a story," said she.</p> +<p>Then she told pretty tales of fairies and of grand ladies and +noble gentlemen who wore gold coats and swords and diamonds and +silks, and said wonderful words in such a wonderful way. I dare say +it prospered all the better in my ears because of the mystery by +which its meanings were partly hidden. I had many questions to ask +and she told me what were fairies and silks and diamonds and grand +ladies and noble gentlemen.</p> +<p>We sat down to one of our familiar dinners of salt pork and milk +gravy and apple pie now enriched by sweet pickles and preserves and +frosted cake.</p> +<p>A query had entered my mind and soon after we began eating I +asked:</p> +<p>"Aunt Deel, what is the difference between a boy and a +girl?"</p> +<p>There was a little silence in which my aunt drew in her breath +and exclaimed, "W'y!" and turned very red and covered her face with +her napkin. Uncle Peabody laughed so loudly that the chickens began +to cackle. Mr. and Mrs. Dunkelberg also covered their faces. Aunt +Deel rose and went to the stove and shoved the teapot along, +exclaiming:</p> +<p>"Goodness, gracious sakes alive!"</p> +<p>The tea slopped over on the stove. Uncle Peabody laughed louder +and Mr. Dunkelberg's face was purple. Shep came running into the +house just as I ran out of it. I had made up my mind that I had +done something worse than tipping over a what-not. Thoroughly +frightened I fled and took refuge behind the ash-house, where Sally +found me. I knew of one thing I would never do again. She coaxed me +into the grove where we had another play spell.</p> +<p>I needed just that kind of thing, and what a time it was for me! +A pleasant sadness comes when I think of that day—it was so +long ago. As the Dunkelbergs left us I stood looking down the road +on which they were disappearing and saw in the sky and the distant, +purple hills and sloping meadows the beauty of the world. The +roaring aeroplane of a humming bird whirled about me and sped +through the hollyhock towers. I followed and watched the tiny +air-ship sticking its prow in their tops, as if it would have me +see how wonderful they were, before it sped away. Breast deep in +the flowers I forgot my loneliness for a few minutes. But that +evening my ears caught a note of sadness in the voice of the +katydids, and memory began to play its part with me. Best of all I +remembered the kisses and the bright blue eyes and the soft curly +hair with the smell of roses in it.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>I MEET THE SILENT WOMAN AND SILAS WRIGHT, JR.</h3> +<p>Amos Grimshaw was there in our dooryard the day that the old +ragged woman came along and told our fortunes—she that was +called Rovin' Kate, and was said to have the gift of "second +sight," whatever that may be. It was a bright autumn day and the +leaves lay deep in the edge of the woodlands. She spoke never a +word but stood pointing at her palm and then at Amos and at me.</p> +<p>I was afraid of the old woman—she looked so wild and +ragged. I have never seen a human being whose look and manner +suggested a greater capacity for doing harm. Yet there was a kindly +smile on her tanned face when she looked at me. Young as I was, the +truth came home to me, somehow, that she was a dead but undeparted +spirit and belonged to another world. I remember the tufts of gray +hair above her blue eyes; the mole on the side of her aquiline +nose; her pointed chin and small mouth. She carried a cane in her +bony right hand and the notion came to me that she was looking for +bad boys who deserved a cudgeling.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel nodded and said:</p> +<p>"Ayes, Kate—tell their fortunes if ye've anything to +say—ayes!"</p> +<p>She brought two sheets of paper and the old woman sat down upon +the grass and began to write with a little stub of a pencil. I have +now those fateful sheets of paper covered by the scrawls of old +Kate. I remember how she shook her head and sighed and sat beating +her forehead with the knuckles of her bony hands after she had +looked at the palm of Amos. Swiftly the point of her pencil ran +over and up and down the sheet like the movements of a frightened +serpent. In the silence how loudly the pencil seemed to hiss in its +swift lines and loops.</p> +<p>My aunt exclaimed "Mercy!" as she looked at the sheet; for while +I knew not, then, the strange device upon the paper, I knew, by and +by, that it was a gibbet. Beneath it were the words: "Money thirst +shall burn like a fire in him."</p> +<p>She rose and smiled as she looked into my face. I saw a kind, +gentle glow in her eyes that reassured me. She clapped her hands +with joy. She examined my palm and grew serious and stood looking +thoughtfully at the setting sun.</p> +<p>I see, now, her dark figure standing against the sunlight as it +stood that day with Amos in its shadow. What a singular eloquence +in her pose and gestures and in her silence! I remember how it +bound our tongues—that silence of hers! She covered her eyes +with her left hand as she turned away from us. Slowly her right +hand rose above her head with its index finger extended and slowly +came down to her side. It rose again with two fingers showing and +descended as before. She repeated this gesture until her four bony +fingers had been spread in the air above her. How it thrilled me! +Something jumped to life in my soul at the call of her moving hand. +I passed a new gate of my imagination, I fancy, and if I have a way +of my own in telling things it began that moment.</p> +<p>The woman turned with a kindly smile and sat down in the grass +again and took the sheet of paper and resting it on a +yellow-covered book began to write these words:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"I see the longing of the helper. One, two, three, four great +perils shall strike at him. He shall not be afraid. God shall fill +his heart with laughter. I hear guns, I hear many voices. His name +is in them. He shall be strong. The powers of darkness shall fear +him, he shall be a lawmaker and the friend of God and of many +people, and great men shall bow to his judgment and he +shall—"</p> +</div> +<p>She began shaking her head thoughtfully and did not finish the +sentence, and by and by the notion came to me that some unpleasant +vision must have halted her pencil.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel brought some luncheon wrapped in paper and the old +woman took it and went away. My aunt folded the sheets and put them +in her trunk and we thought no more of them until—but we +shall know soon what reminded us of the prophet woman.</p> +<p>The autumn passed swiftly. I went to the village one Saturday +with Uncle Peabody in high hope of seeing the Dunkelbergs, but at +their door we learned that they had gone up the river on a picnic. +What a blow it was to me! Tears flowed down my cheeks as I clung to +my uncle's hand and walked back to the main street of the village. +A squad of small boys jeered and stuck out their tongues at me. It +was pity for my sorrows, no doubt, that led Uncle Peabody to take +me to the tavern for dinner, where they were assuaged by cakes and +jellies and chicken pie.</p> +<p>When we came out of the tavern we saw Benjamin Grimshaw and his +son Amos sitting on the well curb. Each had a half-eaten doughnut +in one hand and an apple in the other. I remember that Mr. Grimshaw +said in a scolding manner which made me dislike him:</p> +<p>"Baynes, I'm glad to see you're so prosperous. Only the rich can +afford to eat in taverns. Our dinner has cost us just three cents, +an' I wouldn't wonder if I was worth about as much as you are."</p> +<p>My uncle made no reply and we passed on to a store nearly +opposite the well, where I became deeply interested in a man who +had tapped me in the stomach with his forefinger while he made a +sound like the squealing of a rat. Then he said to Uncle +Peabody:</p> +<p>"Look at that man out there by the well! He's the richest man in +this section o' country. He owns half o' this village. I wouldn't +wonder if he was worth fifty thousand dollars at least. What do ye +suppose he spent for his dinner?"</p> +<p>"Three cents," said my uncle.</p> +<p>"Guess again—it was a cent and a half. He came in here and +asked how much were the doughnuts. I told him they were a cent a +piece. He offered me three cents for four of them—said it was +all the change he had. He and his boy are eating them with some +apples that they had in their pockets."</p> +<p>I remember how my uncle and the man laughed as the latter said: +"His wealth costs too much altogether. 'Tain't worth it"—a +saying which my uncle often quoted.</p> +<p>Thus early I got a notion of the curious extravagance of the +money worshiper. How different was my uncle, who cared too little +for money!</p> +<p>At Christmas I got a picture-book and forty raisins and three +sticks of candy with red stripes on them and a jew's-harp. That was +the Christmas we went down to Aunt Liza's to spend the day and I +helped myself to two pieces of cake when the plate was passed and +cried because they all laughed at my greediness. It was the day +when Aunt Liza's boy, Truman, got a silver watch and chain and her +daughter Mary a gold ring, and when all the relatives were invited +to come and be convinced, once and for all, of Uncle Roswell's +prosperity and be filled with envy and reconciled with jelly and +preserves and roast turkey with sage dressing and mince and chicken +pie. What an amount of preparation we had made for the journey, and +how long we had talked about it! When we had shut the door and were +ready to get into the sleigh our dog Shep came whining around us. I +shall never forget how Uncle Peabody talked to him.</p> +<p>"Go back, Shep—go back to the house an' stay on the piaz," +he began. "Go back I tell ye. It's Christmas day an' we're goin' +down to ol' Aunt Liza's. Ye can't go way down there. No, sir, ye +can't. Go back an' lay down on the piaz."</p> +<p>Shep was fawning at my uncle's foot and rubbing his neck on his +boot and looking up at him.</p> +<p>"What's that ye say?" Uncle Peabody went on, looking down and +turning his ear as if he had heard the dog speak and were in some +doubt of his meaning. "Eh? What's that? An empty house makes ye +terrible sad on a Chris'mas day? What's that? Ye love us an' ye'd +like to go along down to Aunt Liza's an' play with the +children?"</p> +<p>It was a clever ruse of Uncle Peabody, for Aunt Deel was +softened by his interpretation of the dog's heart and she +proposed:</p> +<p>"Le's take him along with us—poor dog! ayes!"</p> +<p>Then Uncle Peabody shouted:</p> +<p>"Jump right into the sleigh—you ol' skeezucks!—an' +I'll cover ye up with a hoss blanket. Git in here. We ain't goin' +to leave nobody alone on Chris'mas day that loves us—not by a +jug full—no, sir! I wouldn't wonder if Jesus died for dogs +an' hosses as well as for men."</p> +<p>Shep had jumped in the back of the sleigh at the first +invitation and lay quietly under his blanket as we hurried along in +the well-trod snow and the bells jingled. It was a joyful day and +old Shep was as merry and well fed as the rest of us.</p> +<p>How cold and sad and still the house seemed when we got back to +it in the evening! We had to drive to a neighbor's and borrow fire +and bring it home with us in a pail of ashes as we were out of +tinder. I held the lantern for my uncle while he did the chores and +when we had gone to bed I fell asleep hearing him tell of Joseph +and Mary going to pay their taxes.</p> +<p>In the spring my uncle hired a man to work for us—a noisy, +brawny, sharp-featured fellow with keen gray eyes, of the name of +Dug Draper. Aunt Deel hated him. I feared him but regarded him with +great hope because he had a funny way of winking at me with one eye +across the table and, further, because he could sing and did sing +while he worked—songs that rattled from his lips in a way +that amused me greatly. Then, too, he could rip out words that had +a new and wonderful sound in them. I made up my mind that he was +likely to become a valuable asset when I heard Aunt Deel say to my +Uncle Peabody:</p> +<p>"You'll have to send that loafer away, right now, ayes I guess +you will."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"Because this boy has learnt to swear like a +pirate—ayes—he has!"</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody didn't know it but I myself had begun to suspect +it, and that hour the man was sent away, and I remember that he +left in anger with a number of those new words flying from his +lips. A forced march to the upper room followed that event. Uncle +Peabody explained that it was wicked to swear—that boys who +did it had very bad luck, and mine came in a moment. I never had +more of it come along in the same length of time.</p> +<p>One day in the spring when the frogs were chanting in the swamp +land, they seemed to be saying, "Dunkelberg, Dunkelberg, +Dunkelberg, Dunkelberg," from morning to bedtime. I was helping +Uncle Peabody to fix the fence when he said:</p> +<p>"Hand me that stake, Bub. Don't be so much of a gentleman."</p> +<p>I handed the stake to him and then I said:</p> +<p>"Uncle Peabody, I want to be a gentleman."</p> +<p>"A gentleman!" he exclaimed as he looked down at me +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>"A grand, noble gentleman with a sword and a gold watch and +chain and diamonds on," I exclaimed.</p> +<p>He leaned against the top rail of the fence and looked down at +me and laughed.</p> +<p>"Whatever put that in yer head?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, I don't know—how do ye be it?" I demanded.</p> +<p>"They's two ways," said he. "One is to begin 'fore you're born +and pick out the right father. T'other is to begin after you're +born and pick out the right son. You can make yerself whatever you +want to be. It's all inside of a boy and it comes out by and +by—swords and gold and diamonds, or rags an' dirt an' shovels +an' crowbars."</p> +<p>I wondered what I had inside of me.</p> +<p>"I guess I ain't got any sword in me," I said.</p> +<p>"When you've been eating green apples and I wouldn't wonder," he +answered as he went on with his work.</p> +<p>"Once I thought I heard a watch tickin' in my throat," I said +hopefully.</p> +<p>"I don't mean them things is really in ye, but the power to git +'em is in ye," said Uncle Peabody. "That's what I mean—power. +Be a good boy and study yer lessons and never lie, and the power'll +come into ye jest as sure as you're alive."</p> +<p>I began to watch myself for symptoms of power.</p> +<p>After I ceased to play with the Wills boy Uncle Peabody used to +say, often, it was a pity that I hadn't somebody of my own age for +company. Every day I felt sorry that the Wills boy had turned out +so badly, and I doubt not the cat and the shepherd dog and the +chickens and Uncle Peabody also regretted his failures, especially +the dog and Uncle Peabody, who bore all sorts of indignities for my +sake.</p> +<p>In the circumstances I had to give a good deal of time to the +proper education of my uncle. Naturally he preferred to waste his +time with shovels and rakes. But he soon learned how to roll a hoop +and play tag and ball and yard off and how to run like a horse when +I sat on his shoulders. It was rather hard on him, after his work +in the fields, but he felt his responsibility and applied himself +with due diligence and became a very promising child. I also gave +strict attention to his talent for story-telling. It improved +rapidly. Being frank in my criticism he was able to profit by all +his failures in taste and method, so that each story had a fierce +bear in it and a fair amount of growling by and by. But I could not +teach him to sing, and it was a great sorrow to me. I often tried +and he tried, but I saw that it wasn't going to pay. He couldn't +make the right kind of a noise. Through all this I did not neglect +his morals. If he said an improper word—and I regret to say +that he did now and then—I promptly corrected him and +reported his conduct to Aunt Deel, and if she was inclined to be +too severe I took his part and, now and then, got snapped on the +forehead for the vigor of my defense. On the whole it is no wonder +that Uncle Peabody wearied of his schooling.</p> +<p>One day when Uncle Peabody went for the mail he brought Amos +Grimshaw to visit me. I had not seen him since the day he was +eating doughnuts in the village with his father. He was four years +older than I—a freckled, red-haired boy with a large mouth +and thin lips. He wore a silver watch and chain, which strongly +recommended him in my view and enabled me to endure his air of +condescension.</p> +<p>He let me feel it and look it all over and I slyly touched the +chain with my tongue just to see if it had any taste to it, and +Amos told me that his grandfather had given it to him and that it +always kept him "kind o' scairt."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"For fear I'll break er lose it an' git licked," he +answered.</p> +<p>We went and sat down on the hay together, and I showed him the +pennies I had saved and he showed me where his father had cut his +leg that morning with a blue beech rod.</p> +<p>"Don't you ever git licked?" he asked.</p> +<p>"No," I answered.</p> +<p>"I guess that's because you ain't got any father," he answered. +"I wish I hadn't. There's nobody so mean as a father. Mine makes me +work every day an' never gives me a penny an' licks me whenever I +do anything that I want to. I've made up my mind to run away from +home."</p> +<p>After a moment of silence he exclaimed:</p> +<p>"Gosh! It's awful lonesome here! Gee whittaker! this is the +worst place I ever saw!"</p> +<p>I tried to think of something that I could say for it.</p> +<p>"We have got a new corn sheller," I said, rather timidly.</p> +<p>"I don't care about your corn shellers," he answered with a look +of scorn.</p> +<p>He took a little yellow paper-covered book from his pocket and +began to read to himself.</p> +<p>I felt thoroughly ashamed of the place and sat near him and, for +a time, said nothing as he read.</p> +<p>"What's that?" I ventured to ask by and by.</p> +<p>"A story," he answered. "I met that ragged ol' woman in the road +t'other day an' she give me a lot of 'em an' showed me the pictures +an' I got to readin' 'em. Don't you tell anybody 'cause my ol' dad +hates stories an' he'd lick me 'til I couldn't stan' if he knew I +was readin' 'em."</p> +<p>I begged him to read out loud and he read from a tale of two +robbers named Thunderbolt and Lightfoot who lived in a cave in the +mountains. They were bold, free, swearing men who rode beautiful +horses at a wild gallop and carried guns and used them freely and +with unerring skill, and helped themselves to what they wanted.</p> +<p>He stopped, by and by, and confided to me the fact that he +thought he would run away and join a band of robbers.</p> +<p>"How do you run away?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Just take the turnpike and keep goin' toward the mountains. +When ye meet a band o' robbers give 'em the sign an' tell 'em you +want to join."</p> +<p>He went on with the book and read how the robbers had hung a +captive who had persecuted them and interfered with their sport. +The story explained how they put the rope around the neck of the +captive and threw the other end of it over the limb of a tree and +pulled the man into the air.</p> +<p>He stopped suddenly and demanded: "Is there a long rope +here?"</p> +<p>I pointed to Uncle Peabody's hay rope hanging on a peg.</p> +<p>"Le's hang a captive," he proposed.</p> +<p>At first I did not comprehend his meaning. He got the rope and +threw its end over the big beam. Our old shepherd dog had been +nosing the mow near us for rats. Amos caught the dog who, +suspecting no harm, came passively to the rope's end. He tied the +rope around the dog's neck.</p> +<p>"We'll draw him up once—it won't hurt him any," he +proposed.</p> +<p>I looked at him in silence. My heart smote me, but I hadn't the +courage to take issue with the owner of a silver watch. When the +dog began to struggle I threw my arms about him and cried. Aunt +Deel happened to be near. She came and saw Amos pulling at the rope +and me trying to save the dog.</p> +<p>"Come right down off'm that mow—this minute," said +she.</p> +<p>When we had come down and the dog had followed pulling the rope +after him, Aunt Deel was pale with anger.</p> +<p>"Go right home—right home," said she to Amos.</p> +<p>"Mr. Baynes said that he would take me up with the horses," said +Amos.</p> +<p>"Ye can use shank's horses—ayes!—they're good enough +for you," Aunt Deel insisted, and so the boy went away in +disgrace.</p> +<p>I blushed to think of the poor opinion he would have of the +place now. It seemed to me a pity that it should be made any worse, +but I couldn't help it.</p> +<p>"Where are your pennies?" Aunt Deel said to me.</p> +<p>I felt in my pockets but couldn't find them.</p> +<p>"Where did ye have `em last?" my aunt demanded.</p> +<p>"On the haymow."</p> +<p>"Come an' show me."</p> +<p>We went to the mow and search for the pennies, but not one of +them could we find.</p> +<p>I remembered that when I saw them last Amos had them in his +hand.</p> +<p>"I'm awful 'fraid for him—ayes I be!" said Aunt Deel. "I'm +'fraid Rovin' Kate was right about him—ayes!"</p> +<p>"What did she say?" I asked.</p> +<p>"That he was goin' to be hung—ayes! You can't play with +him no more. Boys that take what don't belong to `em—which I +hope he didn't—ayes I hope it awful—are apt to be hung +by their necks until they are dead—jest as he was goin' to +hang ol' Shep—ayes!—they are!"</p> +<p>Again I saw the dark figure of old Kate standing in the sunlight +and her ragged garments and bony hands and heard the hiss of her +flying pencil point. I clung to my aunt's dress for a moment and +then I found old Shep and sat down beside him with my arm around +his neck. I did not speak of the story because I had promised not +to and felt sure that Amos would do something to me if I did.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody seemed to feel very badly when he learned how Amos +had turned out.</p> +<p>"Don't say a word about it," said he. "Mebbe you lost the +pennies. Don't mind 'em."</p> +<p>Soon after that, one afternoon, Aunt Deel came down in the field +where we were dragging. While she was talking with Uncle Peabody an +idea occurred to me and the dog and I ran for the house. There was +a pan of honey on the top shelf of the pantry and ever since I had +seen it put there I had cherished secret designs.</p> +<p>I ran into the deserted house, and with the aid of a chair +climbed to the first shelf and then to the next, and reached into +the pan and drew out a comb of honey, and with no delay whatever it +went to my mouth. Suddenly it seemed to me that I had been hit by +lightning. It was the sting of a bee. I felt myself going and made +a wild grab and caught the edge of the pan and down we came to the +floor—the pan and I—with a great crash.</p> +<p>I discovered that I was in desperate pain and trouble and I got +to my feet and ran. I didn't know where I was going. It seemed to +me that any other place would be better than that. My feet took me +toward the barn and I crawled under it and hid there. My lip began +to feel better, by and by, but big and queer. It stuck out so that +I could see it. I heard my uncle coming with the horses. I +concluded that I would stay where I was, but the dog came and +sniffed and barked at the hole through which I had crawled as if +saying, "Here he is!" My position was untenable. I came out. Shep +began trying to clean my clothes with his tongue. Uncle Peabody +stood near with the horses. He looked at me. He stuck his finger +into the honey on my coat and smelt it.</p> +<p>"Well, by—" he stopped and came closer and asked.</p> +<p>"What's happened?"</p> +<p>"Bee stung me," I answered.</p> +<p>"Where did ye find so much honey that ye could go swimmin' in +it?" he asked.</p> +<p>I heard the door of the house open suddenly and the voice of +Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>"Peabody! Peabody! come here quick," she called.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody ran to the house, but I stayed out with the +dog.</p> +<p>Through the open door I heard Aunt Deel saying: "I can't stan' +it any longer and I won't—not another day—ayes, I can't +stan' it. That boy is a reg'lar pest."</p> +<p>They came out on the veranda. Uncle Peabody said nothing, but I +could see that he couldn't stand it either. My brain was working +fast.</p> +<p>"Come here, sir," Uncle Peabody called.</p> +<p>I knew it was serious, for he had never called me "sir" before. +I went slowly to the steps.</p> +<p>"My lord!" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Look at that lip and the honey +all over him—ayes! I tell ye—I can't stan' it."</p> +<p>"Say, boy, is there anything on this place that you ain't tipped +over?" Uncle Peabody asked in a sorrowful tone. "Wouldn't ye like +to tip the house over?"</p> +<p>I was near breaking down in this answer:</p> +<p>"I went into the but'ry and that pan jumped on to me."</p> +<p>"Didn't you taste the honey?"</p> +<p>"No," I drew in my breath and shook my head.</p> +<p>"Liar, too!" said Aunt Deel. "I can't stan' it an' I won't."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody was sorely tried, but he was keeping down his +anger. His voice trembled as he said:</p> +<p>"Boy, I guess you'll have to—"</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody stopped. He had been driven to the last ditch, but +he had not stepped over it. However, I knew what he had started to +say and sat down on the steps in great dejection. Shep followed, +working at my coat with his tongue.</p> +<p>I think that the sight of me must have touched the heart of Aunt +Deel.</p> +<p>"Peabody Baynes, we mustn't be cruel," said she in a softer +tone, and then she brought a rag and began to assist Shep in the +process of cleaning my coat. "Good land! He's got to stay +here—ayes!—he ain't got no other place to go to."</p> +<p>"But if you can't stan' it," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>"I've got to stan' it—ayes!—I can't stan' it, but +I've got to—ayes! So have you."</p> +<p>Aunt Deel put me to bed although it was only five o'clock. As I +lay looking up at the shingles a singular resolution came to me. It +was born of my longing for the companionship of my kind and of my +resentment. I would go and live with the Dunkelbergs. I would go +the way they had gone and find them. I knew it was ten miles away, +but of course everybody knew where the Dunkelbergs lived and any +one would show me. I would run and get there before dark and tell +them that I wanted to live with them, and every day I would play +with Sally Dunkelberg. Uncle Peabody was not half as nice to play +with as she was.</p> +<p>I heard Uncle Peabody drive away. I watched him through the open +window. I could hear Aunt Deel washing the dishes in the kitchen. I +got out of bed very slyly and put on my Sunday clothes. I went to +the open window. The sun had just gone over the top of the woods. I +would have to hurry to get to the Dunkelbergs' before dark. I crept +out on the top of the shed and descended the ladder that leaned +against it. I stood a moment listening. The dooryard was covered +with shadows and very still. The dog must have gone with Uncle +Peabody. I ran through the garden to the road and down it as fast +as my bare feet could carry me. In that direction the nearest house +was almost a mile away. I remember I was out of breath, and the +light growing dim before I got to it. I went on. It seemed to me +that I had gone nearly far enough to reach my destination when I +heard a buggy coming behind me.</p> +<p>"Hello!" a voice called.</p> +<p>I turned and looked up at Dug Draper, in a single buggy, dressed +in his Sunday suit.</p> +<p>"Is it much further to where the Dunkelbergs live?" I asked.</p> +<p>"The Dunkelbergs? Who be they?"</p> +<p>It seemed to me very strange that he didn't know the +Dunkelbergs.</p> +<p>"Where Sally Dunkelberg lives."</p> +<p>That was a clincher. He laughed and swore and said:</p> +<p>"Git in here, boy. I'll take ye there."</p> +<p>I got into the buggy, and he struck his horse with the whip and +went galloping away in the dusk.</p> +<p>"I reckon you're tryin' to git away from that old pup of an +aunt," said he. "I don't wonder. I rather live with a she +bear."</p> +<p>I have omitted and shall omit the oaths and curses with which +his talk was flavored.</p> +<p>"I'm gittin' out o' this country myself," said he. "It's too +pious for me."</p> +<p>By and by we passed Rovin' Kate. I could just discern her ragged +form by the roadside and called to her. He struck his horse and +gave me a rude shake and bade me shut up.</p> +<p>It was dark and I felt very cold and began to wish myself home +in bed.</p> +<p>"Ain't we most to the Dunkelbergs'?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No—not yet," he answered.</p> +<p>I burst into tears and he hit me a sounding whack in the face +with his hand.</p> +<p>"No more whimperin'," he shouted. "Do ye hear me?"</p> +<p>He hurt me cruelly and I was terribly frightened and covered my +face and smothered my cries and was just a little quaking lump of +misery.</p> +<p>He shook me roughly and shoved me down on the buggy floor and +said:</p> +<p>"You lay there and keep still; do you hear?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I sobbed.</p> +<p>I lay shaking with fear and fighting my sorrow and keeping as +still as I could with it, until, wearied by the strain, I fell +asleep.</p> +<p>What an angel of mercy is sleep! Down falls her curtain and away +she leads us—delivered! free!—into some magic country +where are the things we have lost—perhaps even joy and youth +and strength and old friendships.</p> +<p>What befell me that night while I dreamed of playing with the +sweet-faced girl I have wondered often. Some time in the night Dug +Draper had reached the village of Canton, and got rid of me. He had +probably put me out at the water trough. Kind hands had picked me +up and carried me to a little veranda that fronted the door of a +law office. There I slept peacefully until daylight, when I felt a +hand on my face and awoke suddenly. I remember that I felt cold. A +kindly faced man stood leaning over me.</p> +<p>"Hello, boy!" said he. "Where did you come from?"</p> +<p>I was frightened and confused, but his gentle voice reassured +me.</p> +<p>"Uncle Peabody!" I called, as I arose and looked about me and +began to cry.</p> +<p>The man lifted me in his arms and held me close to his breast +and tried to comfort me. I remember seeing the Silent Woman pass +while I was in his arms.</p> +<p>"Tell me what's your name," he urged.</p> +<p>"Barton Baynes," I said as soon as I could speak.</p> +<p>"Where is your father?"</p> +<p>"In Heaven," I answered, that being the place to which he had +moved, as I understood it.</p> +<p>"Where do you live?"</p> +<p>"In Lickitysplit."</p> +<p>"How did you get here?"</p> +<p>"Dug Draper brought me. Do you know where Sally Dunkelberg +lives?"</p> +<p>"Is she the daughter of Horace Dunkelberg?"</p> +<p>"Mr. and Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg," I amended.</p> +<p>"Oh, yes, I know her. Sally is a friend of mine. We'll get some +breakfast and then we'll go and find her."</p> +<p>He carried me through the open door of his office and set me +down at his desk. The cold air of the night had chilled me and I +was shivering.</p> +<p>"You sit there and I'll have a fire going in a minute and get +you warmed up."</p> +<p>He wrapped me in his coat and went into the back room and built +a fire in a small stove and brought me in and set me down beside +it. He made some porridge in a kettle while I sat holding my little +hands over the stove to warm them, and a sense of comfort grew in +me. Soon a boy came bringing a small pail of fresh milk and a loaf +of bread. I remember how curiously the boy eyed me as he said to my +new friend:</p> +<p>"Captain Moody wants to know if you'll come up to dinner?"</p> +<p>There was a note of dignity in the reply which was new to me, +and for that reason probably I have always remembered it.</p> +<p>"Please present my thanks to the Captain and tell him that I +expect to go up to Lickitysplit in the town of Ballybeen."</p> +<p>He dipped some porridge into bowls and put them on a small +table. My eyes had watched him with growing interest and I got to +the table about as soon as the porridge and mounted a chair and +seized a spoon.</p> +<p>"One moment, Bart," said my host. "By jingo! We've forgotten to +wash, and your face looks like the dry bed of a river. Come here a +minute."</p> +<p>He led me out of the back door, where there were a wash-stand +and a pail and a tin basin and a dish of soft soap. He dipped the +pail in a rain barrel and filled the basin, and I washed myself and +waited not upon my host, but made for the table and began to eat, +being very hungry, after hastily drying my face on a towel. In a +minute he came and sat down to his own porridge and bread and +butter.</p> +<p>"Bart, don't dig so fast," said he. "You're down to hard pan +now. Never be in a hurry to see the bottom of the bowl."</p> +<p>I have never forgotten the look of amusement in his big, +smiling, gray eyes as they looked down upon me out of his full, +ruddy, smooth-shaven face. It inspired confidence and I whispered +timidly:</p> +<p>"Could I have some more?"</p> +<p>"All you want," he answered, as he put another ladle full in my +bowl.</p> +<p>When we had finished eating he set aside the dishes and I +asked:</p> +<p>"Now could I go and see Sally Dunkelberg?"</p> +<p>"What in the world do you want of Sally Dunkelberg?" he +asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, just to play with her," I said as I showed him how I could +sit on my hands and raise myself from the chair bottom.</p> +<p>"Haven't you any one to play with at home?"</p> +<p>"Only my Uncle Peabody."</p> +<p>"Don't you like to play with him?"</p> +<p>"Oh, some, but he can't stand me any longer. He's all tired out, +and my Aunt Deel, too. I've tipped over every single thing on that +place. I tipped over the honey yesterday—spillt it all over +everything and rooend my clothes. I'm a reg'lar pest. So I want to +play with Sally Dunkelberg. She knows all kinds o' riddles and +games and all about grand ladies and gentlemen and she wears shiny +shoes and her hair smells just like roses, and I want to play with +her a little while—just a wee little while."</p> +<p>I had unburdened my soul. The above words are quoted not from my +memory, but from his, which has always been most reliable. I +remember well my thoughts and feelings but not many of my words on +a day so distant.</p> +<p>"Forward, march!" said he and away we started for the home of +the Dunkelbergs. The village interested me immensely. I had seen it +only twice before. People were moving about in the streets. One +thing I did not fail to notice. Every man we met touched his hat as +he greeted my friend.</p> +<p>"Good morning, Sile," some said, as we passed them, or, "How are +you, Comptroller?"</p> +<p>It was a square, frame house—that of the +Dunkelbergs—large for that village, and had a big dooryard +with trees in it. As we came near the gate I saw Sally Dunkelberg +playing with other children among the trees. Suddenly I was afraid +and began to hang back. I looked down at my bare feet and my +clothes, both of which were dirty. Sally and her friends had +stopped their play and were standing in a group looking at us. I +heard Sally whisper:</p> +<p>"It's that Baynes boy. Don't he look dirty?"</p> +<p>I stopped and withdrew my hand from that of my guide.</p> +<p>"Come on, Bart," he said.</p> +<p>I shook my head and stood looking over at that little, hostile +tribe near me.</p> +<p>"Go and play with them while I step into the house," he +urged.</p> +<p>Again I shook my head.</p> +<p>"Well, then, you wait here a moment," said my new-found +friend.</p> +<p>He left me and I sat down upon the ground, thoughtful and +silent.</p> +<p>He went to the children and kissed Sally and whispered in her +ear and passed on into the house. The children walked over to +me.</p> +<p>"Hello, Bart!" said Sally.</p> +<p>"Hello!" I answered.</p> +<p>"Wouldn't you like to play with us?"</p> +<p>I shook my head.</p> +<p>Some of them began to whisper and laugh. I remember how +beautiful the girls looked with their flowing hair and ribbons and +pretty dresses. What happy faces they had! I wonder why it all +frightened and distressed me so.</p> +<p>In a moment my friend came out with Mrs. Dunkelberg, who kissed +me, and asked me to tell how I happened to be there.</p> +<p>"I just thought I would come," I said as I twisted a button on +my coat, and would say no more to her.</p> +<p>"Mr. Wright, you're going to take him home, are you?" Mrs. +Dunkelberg asked.</p> +<p>"Yes. I'll start off with him in an hour or so," said my friend. +"I am interested in this boy and I want to see his aunt and +uncle."</p> +<p>"Let him stay here with us until you're ready to go."</p> +<p>"I don't want to stay here," I said, seizing my friend's +hand.</p> +<p>"Well, Sally, you go down to the office and stay with Bart until +they go."</p> +<p>"You'd like that wouldn't you?" the man asked of me.</p> +<p>"I don't know," I said.</p> +<p>"That means yes," said the man.</p> +<p>Sally and another little girl came with us and passing a store I +held back to look at many beautiful things in a big window.</p> +<p>"Is there anything you'd like there, Bart?" the man asked.</p> +<p>"I wisht I had a pair o' them shiny shoes with buttons on," I +answered in a low, confidential tone, afraid to express, openly, a +wish so extravagant.</p> +<p>"Come right in," he said, and I remember that when we entered +the store I could hear my heart beating.</p> +<p>He bought a pair of shoes for me and I would have them on at +once, and that made it necessary for him to buy a pair of socks +also. After the shoes were buttoned on my feet I saw little of +Sally Dunkelberg or the other people of the village, my eyes being +on my feet most of the time.</p> +<p>The man took us into his office and told us to sit down until he +could write a letter.</p> +<p>I remember how, as he wrote, I stood by his chair and examined +the glazed brown buttons on his coat and bit one of them to see how +hard it was, while Sally was feeling his gray hair and necktie. He +scratched along with his quill pen as if wholly unaware of our +presence.</p> +<p>Soon a horse and buggy came for us and I briefly answered +Sally's good-by before the man drove away with me. I remember +telling him as we went on over the rough road, between fields of +ripened grain, of my watermelon and my dog and my little pet +hen.</p> +<p>I shall not try to describe that home coming. We found Aunt Deel +in the road five miles from home. She had been calling and +traveling from house to house most of the night, and I have never +forgotten her joy at seeing me and her tender greeting. She got +into the buggy and rode home with us, holding me in her lap. Uncle +Peabody and one of our neighbors had been out in the woods all +night with pine torches. I recall how, although excited by my +return, he took off his hat at the sight of my new friend and +said:</p> +<p>"Mr. Wright, I never wished that I lived in a palace until +now."</p> +<p>He didn't notice me until I held up both feet and called: "Look +a' there, Uncle Peabody."</p> +<p>Then he came and took me out of the buggy and I saw the tears in +his eyes when he kissed me.</p> +<p>The man told of finding me on his little veranda, and I told of +my ride with Dug Draper, after which Uncle Peabody said:</p> +<p>"I'm goin' to put in your hoss and feed him, Comptroller."</p> +<p>"And I'm goin' to cook the best dinner I ever cooked in my +life," said Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>I knew that my new friend must be even greater than the +Dunkelbergs, for there was a special extravagance in their tone and +manner toward him which I did not fail to note. His courtesy and +the distinction of his address, as he sat at our table, were not +lost upon me, either. During the meal I heard that Dug Draper had +run off with a neighbor's horse and buggy and had not yet returned. +Aunt Deel said that he had taken me with him out of spite, and that +he would probably never come back—a suspicion justified by +the facts of history.</p> +<p>When the great man had gone Uncle Peabody took me in his lap and +said very gently and with a serious look:</p> +<p>"You didn't think I meant it, did ye?—that you would have +to go 'way from here?"</p> +<p>"I don't know," was my answer.</p> +<p>"Course I didn't mean that. I just wanted ye to see that it +wa'n't goin' to do for you to keep on tippin' things over so."</p> +<p>I sat telling them of my adventures and answering questions, +flattered by their tender interest, until milking time. I +thoroughly enjoyed all that. When I rose to go out with Uncle +Peabody, Aunt Deel demanded my shoes.</p> +<p>"Take 'em right off," said she. "It ain't a goin' to do to wear +'em common—no, sir-ee! They're for meetin' or when company +comes—ayes!"</p> +<p>I regretfully took off the shoes and gave them to her, and +thereafter the shoes were guarded as carefully as the butternut +trousers.</p> +<p>That evening as I was about to go up-stairs to bed, Aunt Deel +said to my uncle:</p> +<p>"Do you remember what ol' Kate wrote down about him? This is his +first peril an' he has met his first great man an' I can see that +Sile Wright is kind o' fond o' him."</p> +<p>I went to sleep that night thinking of the strange, old, ragged, +silent woman.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>WE GO TO MEETING AND SEE MR. WRIGHT AGAIN</h3> +<p>I had a chill that night and in the weeks that followed I was +nearly burned up with lung fever. Doctor Clark came from Canton to +see me every other day for a time, and one evening Mr. Wright came +with him and watched all night near my bedside. He gave me medicine +every hour, and I remember how gently he would speak and raise my +head when he came with the spoon and the draft. It grieved me to +hear him say, as he raised me in his arms, that I wasn't bigger +than "a cock mosquito."</p> +<p>I would lie and watch him as he put a stick on the fire and +tiptoed to his armchair by the table, on which three lighted +candles were burning. Then he would adjust his spectacles, pick up +his book, and begin to read, and I would see him smile or frown or +laugh until I wondered what was between the black covers of the +book to move him so. In the morning he said that he could come the +next Tuesday night, if we needed him, and set out right after +breakfast, in the dim dawn light, to walk to Canton.</p> +<p>"Peabody Baynes," said my Aunt Deel as she stood looking out of +the window at Mr. Wright, "that is one of the grandest, splendidest +men that I ever see or heard of. He's an awful smart man, an' a day +o' his time is worth more'n a month of our'n, but he comes away off +here to set up with a sick young one and walks back. Does beat +all—don't it?—ayes!"</p> +<p>"If any one needs help Sile Wright is always on hand," said +Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>I was soon out of bed and he came no more to sit up with me.</p> +<p>When I was well again Aunt Deel said one day "Peabody Baynes, I +ain't heard no preachin' since Mr Pangborn died. I guess we better +go down to Canton to meetin' some Sunday. If there ain't no +minister Sile Wright always reads a sermon, if he's home, and the +paper says he don't go 'way for a month yit. I kind o' feel the +need of a good sermon—ayes!"</p> +<p>"All right. I'll hitch up the hosses and we'll go. We can start +at eight o'clock and take a bite with us an' git back here by +three."</p> +<p>"Could I wear my new shoes and trousers?" I asked joyfully.</p> +<p>"Ayes I guess ye can if you're a good boy—ayes!" said Aunt +Deel.</p> +<p>I had told Aunt Deel what Sally had said of my personal +appearance.</p> +<p>"Your coat is good enough for anybody—ayes!" said she. +"I'll make you a pair o' breeches an' then I guess you won't have +to be 'shamed no more."</p> +<p>She had spent several evenings making them out of an old gray +flannel petticoat of hers and had put two pockets in them of which +I was very proud. They came just to the tops of my shoes, which +pleased me, for thereby the glory of my new shoes suffered no +encroachment.</p> +<p>The next Sunday after they were finished we had preaching in the +schoolhouse and I was eager to go and wear my wonderful trousers. +Uncle Peabody said that he didn't know whether his leg would hold +out or not "through a whole meetin'." His left leg was lame from a +wrench and pained him if he sat long in one position. I greatly +enjoyed this first public exhibition of my new trousers. I remember +praying in silence, as we sat down, that Uncle Peabody's leg would +hold out. Later, when the long sermon had begun to weary me, I +prayed that it would not.</p> +<p>I decided that meetin's were not a successful form of +entertainment. Indeed, Sunday was for me a lost day. It was filled +with shaving and washing and reading and an overwhelming silence. +Uncle Peabody always shaved after breakfast and then he would sit +down to read the <i>St. Lawrence Republican</i>. Both occupations +deprived him utterly of his usefulness as an uncle. I remember that +I regarded the razor and the <i>Republican</i> as my worst enemies. +The <i>Republican</i> earned my keenest dislike, for it always put +my uncle to sleep and presently he would stretch out on the lounge +and begin to puff and snore and then Aunt Deel always went around +on her tiptoes and said sh-h-h! She spent the greater part of the +forenoon in her room washing and changing her clothes and reading +the Bible. How loudly the clock ticked that day! How defiantly the +cock crew! It seemed as if he were making special efforts to start +up the life of the farm. How shrill were the tree crickets! Often +Shep and I would steal off into the back lot trying to scare up a +squirrel and I would look longingly down the valley, and could +dimly see the roofs of houses where there were other children. I +would gladly have made friends with the Wills boy, but he would +have nothing to do with me, and soon his people moved away. My +uncle said that Mr. Grimshaw had foreclosed their mortgage.</p> +<p>The fields were so still that I wondered if the grass grew on +Sunday. The laws of God and nature seemed to be in conflict, for +our livers got out of order and some one of us always had a +headache in the afternoon. It was apt to be Uncle Peabody, as I had +reason to know, for I always begged him to go in swimmin' with me +in the afternoon.</p> +<p>It was a beautiful summer morning as we drove down the hills and +from the summit of the last high ridge we could see the smoke of a +steamer looming over the St. Lawrence and the big buildings of +Canton on the distant flats below us. My heart beat fast when I +reflected that I should soon see Mr. Wright and the Dunkelbergs. I +had lost a little of my interest in Sally. Still I felt sure that +when she saw my new breeches she would conclude that I was a person +not to be trifled with.</p> +<p>When we got to Canton people were flocking to the big stone +Presbyterian Church. We drove our horses under the shed of the +tavern and Uncle Peabody brought them water from the pump and fed +them, out of our own bag under the buggy seat, before we went to +the church.</p> +<p>It was what they called a "deacon meeting." I remember that Mr. +Wright read from the Scriptures, and having explained that there +was no minister in the village, read one of Mr. Edwards' sermons, +in the course of which I went to sleep on the arm of my aunt. She +awoke me when the service had ended, and whispered:</p> +<p>"Come, we're goin' down to speak to Mr. Wright."</p> +<p>We saw Mr. and Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg in the aisle, who said +that they would wait for us outside the church.</p> +<p>I remember that Mr. Wright kissed me and said:</p> +<p>"Hello! Here's my boy in a new pair o' trousers!"</p> +<p>"Put yer hand in there," I said proudly, as I took my own out of +one of my pockets, and pointed the way.</p> +<p>He did not accept the invitation, but laughed heartily and gave +me a little hug.</p> +<p>When we went out of the church there stood Mr. and Mrs. Horace +Dunkelberg, and Sally and some other children. It was a tragic +moment for me when Sally laughed and ran behind her mother. Still +worse was it when a couple of boys ran away crying, "Look at the +breeches!"</p> +<p>I looked down at my breeches and wondered what was wrong with +them. They seemed very splendid to me and yet I saw at once that +they were not popular. I went close to my Aunt Deel and partly hid +myself in her cloak. I heard Mrs. Dunkelberg say:</p> +<p>"Of course you'll come to dinner with us?"</p> +<p>For a second my hopes leaped high. I was hungry and visions of +jelly cake and preserves rose before me. Of course there were the +trousers, but perhaps Sally would get used to the trousers and ask +me to play with her.</p> +<p>"Thank ye, but we've got a good ways to go and we fetched a bite +with us—ayes!" said Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>Eagerly I awaited an invitation from the great Mrs. Dunkelberg +that should be decisively urgent, but she only said:</p> +<p>"I'm very sorry you can't stay."</p> +<p>My hopes fell like bricks and vanished like bubbles.</p> +<p>The Dunkelbergs left us with pleasant words. They had asked me +to shake hands with Sally, but I had clung to my aunt's cloak and +firmly refused to make any advances. Slowly and without a word we +walked across the park toward the tavern sheds. Hot tears were +flowing down my cheeks—silent tears! for I did not wish to +explain them. Furtively I brushed them away with my hand. The odor +of frying beef steak came out of the open doors of the tavern. It +was more than I could stand. I hadn't tasted fresh meat since Uncle +Peabody had killed a deer in midsummer. He gave me a look of +understanding, but said nothing for a minute. Then he proposed:</p> +<p>"Mebbe we better git dinner here?"</p> +<p>Aunt Deel hesitated at the edge of the stable yard, surrounded +as she was by the aroma of the fleshpots, then:</p> +<p>"I guess we better go right home and save our money, +Peabody—ayes!" said she. "We told Mr. and Mrs. Horace +Dunkelberg that we was goin' home and they'd think we was +liars."</p> +<p>"We orto have gone with `em," said Uncle Peabody as he unhitched +the horses.</p> +<p>"Well, Peabody Baynes, they didn't appear to be very anxious to +have us," Aunt Deel answered with a sigh.</p> +<p>We had started away up the South road when, to my surprise, Aunt +Deel mildly attacked the Dunkelbergs.</p> +<p>"These here village folks like to be waited +on—ayes!—an' they're awful anxious you should come to +see 'em when ye can't—ayes!—but when ye git to the +village they ain't nigh so anxious—no they ain't!"</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody made no answer, but sat looking forward +thoughtfully and tapping the dashboard with his whipstock, and we +rode on in a silence broken only by the creak of the evener and the +sound of the horses' hoofs in the sand.</p> +<p>In the middle of the great cedar swamp near Little River Aunt +Deel got out the lunch basket and I sat down on the buggy bottom +between their legs and leaning against the dash. So disposed we ate +our luncheon of fried cakes and bread and butter and maple sugar +and cheese. The road was a straight alley through the evergreen +forest, and its grateful shadow covered us. When we had come out +into the hot sunlight by the Hale farm both my aunt and uncle +complained of headache. What an efficient cure for good health were +the doughnuts and cheese and sugar, especially if they were mixed +with the idleness of a Sunday. I had a headache also and soon fell +asleep.</p> +<p>The sun was low when they awoke me in our dooryard.</p> +<p>"Hope it'll be some time 'fore ye feel the need of another +sermon," said Uncle Peabody as Aunt Deel got out of the buggy. "I +ain't felt so wicked in years."</p> +<p>I was so sick that Aunt Deel put me to bed and said that she +would feed the pigs and the chickens. Sick as he was, Uncle Peabody +had to milk the cows. How relentless were the cows!</p> +<p>I soon discovered that the Dunkelbergs had fallen from their +high estate in our home and that Silas Wright, Jr., had taken their +place in the conversation of Aunt Deel.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>OUR LITTLE STRANGE COMPANION</h3> +<p>In the pathless forest we had a little companion that always +knew its way. No matter how strange and remote the place might be +or how black the night its tiny finger always pointed in the same +direction. By the light of the torch at midnight, in blinding +darkness, I have seen it sway and settle toward its beloved goal. +It seemed to be thinking of some far country which it desired to +recommend to us.</p> +<p>It seemed to say: "Look! I know not which way is yours, but +this—this is my way and all the little cross roads lead off +it."</p> +<p>What a wonderful wisdom it had! I remember it excited a feeling +of awe in me as if it were a spirit and not a tool.</p> +<p>The reader will have observed that my uncle spoke of the compass +as if it directed plant and animal in achieving their purposes. +From the beginning in the land of my birth it had been a thing as +familiar as the dial and as necessary. The farms along our road +were only stumpy recesses in the wilderness, with irregular curving +outlines of thick timber—beech and birch and maple and balsam +and spruce and pine and tamarack—forever whispering of the +unconquered lands that rolled in great billowy ridges to the far +horizon.</p> +<p>We were surrounded by the gloom and mystery of the forest. If +one left the road or trail for even a short walk he needed a +compass to guide him. That little brass box with its needle, +swaying and seeming to quiver with excitement as it felt its way to +the north side of the circle and pointed unerringly at last toward +its favorite star, filled me with wonder.</p> +<p>"Why does it point toward the north star?" I used to ask.</p> +<p>"That's a secret," said Uncle Peabody. "I wouldn't wonder if the +gate o' heaven was up there. Maybe it's a light in God's winder. +Who knows? I kind o' mistrust it's the direction we're all goin' +in."</p> +<p>"You talk like one o' them Universalists," said Aunt Deel. +"They're gettin' thick as flies around here."</p> +<p>"Wal, I kind o' believe—" he paused at the edge of what +may have been a dangerous opinion.</p> +<p>I shook the box and the needle swung and quivered back and forth +and settled with its point in the north again. Oh, what a mystery! +My eyes grew big at the thought of it.</p> +<p>"Do folks take compasses with 'em when they die?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No, they don't need 'em then," said Uncle Peabody. "Everybody +has a kind of a compass in his own heart—same as watermelons +and chickens have. It shows us the way to be useful, and I guess +the way o' usefulness is the way to heaven every time."</p> +<p>"An' the way o' uselessness is the way to hell," Aunt Deel +added.</p> +<p>One evening in the early summer the great Silas Wright had come +to our house from the village of Russell, where he had been +training a company of militia.</p> +<p>I remember that as he entered our door he spoke in this fashion: +"Baynes, le's go fishing. All the way down the road I've heard the +call o' the brooks. I stopped on the Dingley Bridge and looked down +at the water. The trout were jumping so I guess they must 'a' got +sunburnt and freckled and sore. I can't stand too much o' that kind +o' thing. It riles me. I heard, long ago, that you were a +first-class fisherman, so I cut across lots and here I am."</p> +<p>His vivid words touched my imagination and I have often recalled +them.</p> +<p>"Well, now by mighty! I—" Uncle Peabody drew the rein upon +his imagination at the very brink of some great extravagance and +after a moment's pause added: "We'll start out bright an' early in +the mornin' an' go up an' git Bill Seaver. He's got a camp on the +Middle Branch, an' he can cook almost as good as my sister."</p> +<p>"Is your spring's work done?"</p> +<p>"All done, an' I was kind o' thinkin'," said Uncle Peabody with +a little shake of his head. He didn't say of what he had been +thinking, that being unnecessary.</p> +<p>"Bart, are you with us?" said Mr. Wright as he gave me a playful +poke with his hand.</p> +<p>"May I go?" I asked my uncle.</p> +<p>"I wouldn't wonder—go an' ask yer aunt," said Uncle +Peabody.</p> +<p>My soul was afire with eagerness. My feet shook the floor and I +tipped over a chair in my hurry to get to the kitchen, whither my +aunt had gone soon after the appearance of our guest. She was +getting supper for Mr. Wright.</p> +<p>"Aunt Deel, I'm goin' fishin'," I said.</p> +<p>"Fishin'! I guess not—ayes I do," she answered.</p> +<p>It was more than I could stand. A roar of distress and +disappointment came from my lips.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody hurried into the kitchen.</p> +<p>"The Comptroller wants him to go," said he.</p> +<p>"He does?" she repeated as she stood with her hands on her hips +looking up at her brother.</p> +<p>"He likes Bart and wants to take him along."</p> +<p>"Wal, then, you'll have to be awful careful of him," said Aunt +Deel. "I'm 'fraid he'll plague ye—ayes!"</p> +<p>"No, he won't—we'll love to have him."</p> +<p>"Wal, I guess you could git Mary Billings to come over and stay +with me an' help with the chores—ayes, I wouldn't +wonder!"</p> +<p>I could contain my joy no longer, but ran into the other room on +tiptoe and announced excitedly that I was going. Then I rushed out +of the open door and rolled and tumbled in the growing grass, with +the dog barking at my side. In such times of joyful excitement I +always rolled and tumbled in the grass. It was my way of expressing +inexpressible delight.</p> +<p>I felt sorry for the dog. Poor fellow! He couldn't go fishing. +He had to stay home always. I felt sorry for the house and the +dooryard and the cows and the grindstone and Aunt Deel. The glow of +the candles and the odor of ham and eggs drew me into the house. +Wistfully I watched the great man as he ate his supper. I was +always hungry those days. Mr. Wright asked me to have an egg, but I +shook my head and said "No, thank you" with sublime self-denial. At +the first hint from Aunt Deel I took my candle and went up to +bed.</p> +<p>"I ain't afraid o' bears," I heard myself whispering as I +undressed. I whispered a good deal as my imagination ran away into +the near future.</p> +<p>Soon I blew out my candle and got into bed. The door was open at +the foot of the stairs. I could see the light and hear them +talking. It had been more than a year since Uncle Peabody had +promised to take me into the woods fishing, but most of our joys +were enriched by long anticipation filled with talk and fancy.</p> +<p>I lay planning my behavior in the woods. It was to be helpful +and polite and generally designed to show that I could be a man +among men. I lay a long time whispering over details. There was to +be no crying, even if I did get hurt a little once in a while. Men +never cried. Only babies cried. I could hear Mr. Wright talking +about Bucktails and Hunkers below stairs and I could hear the +peepers down in the marsh.</p> +<p>Peepers and men who talked politics were alike to me those days. +They were beyond my understanding and generally put me to +sleep—especially the peepers. In my childhood the peepers +were the bells of dream-land calling me to rest. The sweet sound no +sooner caught my ear than my thoughts began to steal away on tiptoe +and in a moment the house of my brain was silent and deserted, and +thereafter, for a time, only fairy feet came into it. So even those +happy thoughts of a joyous holiday soon left me and I slept.</p> +<p>I was awakened by a cool, gentle hand on my brow. I opened my +eyes and saw the homely and beloved face of Uncle Peabody smiling +down at me. What a face it was! It welcomed me, always, at the +gates of the morning and I saw it in the glow of the candle at +night as I set out on my lonely, dreaded voyage into dream-land. Do +you wonder that I stop a moment and wipe my glasses when I think of +it?</p> +<p>"Hello, Bart!" said he. "It's to-morrer."</p> +<p>I sat up. The delicious odor of frying ham was in the air. The +glow of the morning sunlight was on the meadows.</p> +<p>"Come on, ol' friend! By mighty! We're goin' to—" said +Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>Happy thoughts came rushing into my brain again. What a tumult! +I leaped out of bed.</p> +<p>"I'll be ready in a minute, Uncle Peabody," I said as, yawning, +I drew on my trousers.</p> +<p>"Don't tear yer socks," he cautioned as I lost patience with +their unsympathetic behavior.</p> +<p>He helped me with my boots, which were rather tight, and I flew +down-stairs with my coat half on and ran for the wash-basin just +outside the kitchen door.</p> +<p>"Hello, Bart! If the fish don't bite to-day they ought to be +ashamed o' themselves," said Mr. Wright, who stood in the dooryard +in an old suit of clothes which belonged to Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>The sun had just risen over the distant tree-tops and the dew in +the meadow grass glowed like a net of silver and the air was +chilly. The chores were done. Aunt Deel appeared in the open door +as I was wiping my face and hands and said in her genial, company +voice:</p> +<p>"Breakfast is ready."</p> +<p>Aunt Deel never shortened her words when company was there. Her +respect was always properly divided between her guest and the +English language.</p> +<p>How delicious were the ham, smoked in our own barrels, and the +eggs fried in its fat and the baked potatoes and milk gravy and the +buckwheat cakes and maple syrup, and how we ate of them! Two big +pack baskets stood by the window filled with provisions and +blankets, and the black bottom of Uncle Peabody's spider was on the +top of one of them, with its handle reaching down into the depths +of the basket. The musket and the powder horn had been taken down +from the wall and the former leaned on the window-sill.</p> +<p>"If we see a deer we ain't goin' to let him bite us," said Uncle +Peabody.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel kept nudging me under the table and giving me sharp +looks to remind me of my manners, for now it seemed as if a time +had come when eating was a necessary evil to be got through with as +soon as possible. Even Uncle Peabody tapped his cup lightly with +his teaspoon, a familiar signal of his by which he indicated that I +was to put on the brakes.</p> +<p>To Aunt Deel men-folks were a careless, irresponsible and +mischievous lot who had to be looked after all the time or there +was no telling what would happen to them. She slipped some extra +pairs of socks and a bottle of turpentine into the pack basket and +told us what we were to do if we got wet feet or sore throats or +stomach ache.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel kissed me lightly on the cheek with a look that seemed +to say, "There, I've done it at last," and gave me a little poke +with her hand (I remember thinking what an extravagant display of +affection it was) and many cautions before I got into the wagon +with Mr. Wright, and my uncle. We drove up the hills and I heard +little that the men said for my thoughts were busy. We arrived at +the cabin of Bill Seaver that stood on the river bank just above +Rainbow Falls. Bill stood in his dooryard and greeted us with a +loud "Hello, there!"</p> +<p>"Want to go fishin'?" Uncle Peabody called.</p> +<p>"You bet I do. Gosh! I ain't had no fun since I went to Joe +Brown's funeral an' that day I enjoyed myself—damned if I +didn't! Want to go up the river?"</p> +<p>"We thought we'd go up to your camp and fish a day or two."</p> +<p>"All right! We'll hitch in the hosses. My wife'll take care of +'em 'til we git back. Say it looks as fishy as hell, don't it?"</p> +<p>"This is Mr. Silas Wright—the Comptroller," said Uncle +Peabody.</p> +<p>"It is! Gosh almighty! I ought to have knowed it," said Bill +Seaver, his tone and manner having changed like magic to those of +awed respect. "I see ye in court one day years ago. If I'd knowed +'twas you I wouldn't 'a' swore as I did." The men began laughing +and then he added: "Damned if I would!"</p> +<p>"It won't hurt me any—the boy is the one," said Mr. Wright +as he took my hand and strolled up the river bank with me. I rather +feared and dreaded those big roaring men like Bill Seaver.</p> +<p>The horses were hitched in and the canoes washed out. Then we +all turned to and dug some angle-worms. The poles were +brought—lines, hooks and sinkers were made ready and in an +hour or so we were on our way up the river, Mr. Wright and I and +Uncle Peabody being in one of the canoes, the latter working the +paddle.</p> +<p>I remember how, as we went along, Mr. Wright explained the +fundamental theory of his politics. I gave strict attention because +of my pride in the fact that he included me in the illustration of +his point. This in substance is what he said, for I can not pretend +to quote his words with precision although I think they vary little +from his own, for here before me is the composition entitled "The +Comptroller," which I wrote two years later and read at a lyceum in +the district schoolhouse.</p> +<p>"We are a fishing party. There are four of us who have come +together with one purpose—that of catching fish and having a +good time. We have elected Bill guide because he knows the river +and the woods and the fish better than we do. It's Bill's duty to +give us the benefit of his knowledge, and to take us to and from +camp and out of the woods at our pleasure and contribute in all +reasonable ways to our comfort. He is the servant of his party. Now +if Bill, having approved our aim and accepted the job from us, were +to try to force a new aim upon the party and insist that we should +all join him in the sport of catching butterflies, we would soon +break up. If we could agree on the butterfly program that would be +one thing, but if we held to our plan and Bill stood out, he would +be a traitor to his party and a fellow of very bad manners. As long +as the aims of my party are, in the main, right, I believe its +commands are sacred. Always in our country the will of the greatest +number ought to prevail—right or wrong. It has a right even +to make mistakes, for through them it should learn wisdom and +gradually adjust itself to the will of its greatest leaders."</p> +<p>It is remarkable that the great commoner should have made +himself understood by a boy of eight, but in so doing he +exemplified the gift that raised him above all the men I have +met—that of throwing light into dark places so that all could +see the truth that was hidden there.</p> +<p>Now and then we came to noisy water hills slanting far back +through rocky timbered gorges, or little foamy stairways in the +river leading up to higher levels. The men carried the canoes +around these places while I followed gathering wild flowers and +watching the red-winged black birds that flew above us calling +hoarsely across the open spaces. Now and then, a roaring veering +cloud of pigeons passed in the upper air. The breath of the river +was sweet with the fragrance of pine and balsam.</p> +<p>We were going around a bend when we heard the voice of Bill +shouting just above us. He had run the bow of his canoe on a gravel +beach just below a little waterfall and a great trout was flopping +and tumbling about in the grass beside him.</p> +<p>"Yip!" he shouted as he held up the radiant, struggling fish +that reached from his chin to his belt. "I tell ye boys they're +goin' to be sassy as the devil. Jump out an' go to work here."</p> +<p>With what emotions I leaped out upon the gravel and watched the +fishing! A new expression came into the faces of the men. Their +mouths opened. There was a curious squint in their eyes. Their +hands trembled as they baited their hooks. The song of the river, +tumbling down a rocky slant, filled the air. I saw the first bite. +How the pole bent! How the line hissed as it went rushing through +the water out among the spinning bubbles! What a splash as the big +fish in his coat of many colors broke through the ripples and rose +aloft and fell at my feet throwing a spray all over me as he came +down! That was the way they fished in those days. They angled with +a stout pole of seasoned tamarack and no reel, and catching a fish +was like breaking a colt to halter.</p> +<p>While he was fishing Mr. Wright slipped off the rock he stood on +and sank shoulder deep in the water. I ran and held out my hand +crying loudly. Uncle Peabody helped him ashore with his pole. Tears +were flowing down my cheeks while I stood sobbing in a kind of +juvenile hysterics.</p> +<p>"What's the matter?" Uncle Peabody demanded.</p> +<p>"I was 'fraid—Mr. Wright—was goin' to be drownded," +I managed to say.</p> +<p>The Comptroller shook his arms and came and knelt by my side and +kissed me.</p> +<p>"God bless the dear boy!" he exclaimed. "It's a long time since +any one cried for me. I love you, Bart."</p> +<p>When Bill swore after that the Comptroller raised his hand and +shook his head and uttered a protesting hiss.</p> +<p>We got a dozen trout before we resumed our journey and reached +camp soon after one o'clock very hungry. It was a rude bark +lean-to, and we soon made a roaring fire in front of it. What a +dinner we had! the bacon and the fish fried in its fat and the +boiled potatoes and the flapjacks and maple sugar! All through my +long life I have sought in vain for a dinner like it. I helped with +the washing of the dishes and, that done, Bill made a back for his +fire of green beech logs, placed one upon the other and held in +place by stakes driven in the ground. By and by Mr. Wright asked me +if I would like to walk over to Alder Brook with him.</p> +<p>"The fish are smaller there and I guess you could catch 'em," +said he.</p> +<p>The invitation filled me with joy and we set out together +through the thick woods. The leaves were just come and their vivid, +glossy green sprinkled out in the foliage of the little beeches and +the woods smelt of new things. The trail was overgrown and great +trees had fallen into it and we had to pick our way around them. +The Comptroller carried me on his back over the wet places and we +found the brook at last and he baited my hook while I caught our +basket nearly full of little trout. Coming back we lost the trail +and presently the Comptroller stopped and said:</p> +<p>"Bart, I'm 'fraid we're going wrong. Let's sit down here and +take a look at the compass."</p> +<p>He took out his compass and I stood by his knee and watched the +quivering needle.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," he went on. "We just turned around up there on the +hill and started for Alder Brook again."</p> +<p>As we went on he added: "When you're in doubt look at the +compass. It always knows its way."</p> +<p>"How does it know?" I asked.</p> +<p>"It couldn't tell ye how and I couldn't. There are lots o' +things in the world that nobody can understand."</p> +<p>The needle now pointed toward its favorite star.</p> +<p>"My uncle says that everything and everybody has compasses in +'em to show 'em the way to go," I remarked thoughtfully.</p> +<p>"He's right," said the Comptroller. "I'm glad you told me for +I'd never thought of it. Every man has a compass in his heart to +tell which way is right. I shall always remember that, +partner."</p> +<p>He gave me a little hug as we sat together and I wondered what a +partner might be, for the word was new to me.</p> +<p>"What's partner?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Somebody you like to have with you."</p> +<p>Always when we were together after that hour the great man +called me "partner."</p> +<p>We neared camp in the last light of the day. Mr. Wright stopped +to clean our fish at a little murmuring brook and I ran on ahead +for I could hear the crackling of the camp-fire and the voice of +Bill Seaver. I thought in whispers what I should say to my Uncle +Peabody and they were brave words. I was close upon the rear of the +camp when I checked my eager pace and approached on tiptoe. I was +going to surprise and frighten my uncle and then embrace him. +Suddenly my heart stood still, for I heard him saying words fit +only for the tongue of a Dug Draper or a Charley Boyce—the +meanest boy in school—low, wicked words which Uncle Peabody +himself had taught me to fear and despise. My Uncle Peabody! Once I +heard a man telling of a doomful hour in which his fortune won by +years of hard work, broke and vanished like a bubble. The dismay he +spoke of reminded me of my own that day. My Aunt Deel had told me +that the devil used bad words to tempt his victims into a lake of +fire where they sizzled and smoked and yelled forever and felt +worse, every minute, than one sitting on a hot griddle. To save me +from such a fate my uncle had nearly blistered me with his slipper. +How was I to save him? I stood still for a moment of confusion and +anxiety, with my hand over my mouth, while a strange sickness came +upon me. A great cold wave had swept in off the uncharted seas and +flooded my little beach, and covered it with wreckage. What was I +to do? I knew that I couldn't punish him. I couldn't bear to speak +to him even, so I turned and walked slowly away.</p> +<p>My dear, careless old uncle was in great danger. As I think of +it now, what a whited sepulchre he had become in a moment! Had I +better consult Mr. Wright? No. My pride in my uncle and my love for +him would not permit it. I must bear my burden alone until I could +tell Aunt Deel. She would know what to do. Mr. Wright came along +and found me sitting in deep dejection on a bed of vivid, green +moss by an old stump at the trail-side.</p> +<p>"What ye doing here?" he asked in surprise.</p> +<p>"Nothing," I answered gravely.</p> +<p>The Comptroller must have observed the sorrow in my face, for he +asked:</p> +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> +<p>"Nothing," I lied, and then my conscience caught up with my +tongue and I added: "It's a secret."</p> +<p>Fearing that my uncle would disgrace himself in the hearing of +Mr. Wright, I said something—I do not remember what, save +that it related to the weather—in a loud voice by way of +warning.</p> +<p>They noticed the downcast look of me when we entered camp.</p> +<p>"Why, Bub, you look tired," said Uncle Peabody as he gave me +that familiar hug of his.</p> +<p>I did not greet him with the cheerful warmth which had +characterized our meetings, and seeing the disappointment in his +look I kissed him rather flippantly.</p> +<p>"Lay down on this old sheep skin and take a nap," said he. "It's +warm in here."</p> +<p>He spread the sheep skin on the balsam boughs back under the +lean-to and I lay down upon it and felt the glow of the fire and +heard the talk of the men but gave no heed to it. I turned my face +away from them and lay as if asleep, but with a mind suddenly +estranged and very busy.</p> +<p>Now I know what I knew not then, that my soul was breaking camp +on the edge of the world and getting ready to move over the line. +Still no suspicion of the truth reached me that since I came to +live with him my uncle had been bitting and breaking his tongue. It +occurred to me that Bill Seaver, whom I secretly despised, had +spoilt him and that I had done wrong in leaving him all the +afternoon defenseless in bad company.</p> +<p>I wondered if he were beyond hope or if he would have to fry and +smoke and yell forever. But I had hope. My faith in Aunt Deel as a +corrector and punisher was very great. She would know what to do. I +heard the men talking in low voices as they cooked the supper and +the frying of the fish and bacon. It had grown dark. Uncle Peabody +came and leaned over me with a lighted candle and touched my face +with his hand. I lay still with closed eyes. He left me and I heard +him say to the others:</p> +<p>"He's asleep and his cheeks are wet. Looks as if he'd been +cryin' all to himself there. I guess he got too tired."</p> +<p>Then Mr. Wright said: "Something happened to the boy this +afternoon. I don't know what. I stopped at the brook to clean the +fish and he ran on toward the camp to surprise you. I came along +soon and found him sitting alone by the trail out there. He looked +as if he hadn't a friend in the world. I asked him what was the +matter and he said it was a secret."</p> +<p>"Say, by—" Uncle Peabody paused. "He must a stole up here +and heard me tellin' that—" he paused again and went on: +"Say, I wouldn't 'a' had him hear that for a thousan' dollars. I +don't know how to behave myself when I get in the woods. If you're +goin' to travel with a boy like that you've got to be good all the +time—ye can't take no rest or vacation at all whatever."</p> +<p>"You've got to be sound through and through or they'll find it +out," said the Comptroller. "You can't fool 'em long."</p> +<p>"He's got a purty keen edge on him," said Bill Seaver.</p> +<p>"On the whole I think he's the most interesting child I ever +saw," said Mr. Wright.</p> +<p>I knew that these words were compliments but their meaning was +not quite clear to me. The words, however, impressed and pleased me +deeply and I recalled them often after that night. I immediately +regretted them, for I was hungry and wanted to get up and eat some +supper but had to lie a while longer now so they would not know +that my ears had been open. Nothing more was said and I lay and +listened to the wind in the tree-tops and the crackling of the +fire, and suddenly the day ended.</p> +<p>I felt the gentle hand of Uncle Peabody on my face and I heard +him speak my name very tenderly. I opened my eyes. The sun was +shining. It was a new day. Bill Seaver had begun to cook the +breakfast. I felt better and ran down to the landing and washed. My +uncle's face had a serious look in it. So had Mr. Wright's. I was +happy but dimly conscious of a change.</p> +<p>I remember how Bill beat the venison steak, which he had brought +in his pack basket, with the head of his ax, adding a strip of +bacon and a pinch of salt, now and then, until the whole was a +thick mass of pulp which he broiled over the hot coals. I remember, +too, how delicious it was.</p> +<p>We ate and packed and got into the boats and fished along down +the river. At Seaver's we hitched up our team and headed homeward. +When we drove into the dooryard Aunt Deel came and helped me out of +the buggy and kissed my cheek and said she had been "terrible +lonesome." Mr. Wright changed his clothes and hurried away across +country with his share of the fish on his way to Canton.</p> +<p>"Well, I want to know!—ayes! ain't they beautiful! ayes!" +Aunt Deel exclaimed as Uncle Peabody spread the trout in rows on +the wash-stand by the back door.</p> +<p>"I've got to tell you something," I said.</p> +<p>"What is it?" she asked.</p> +<p>"I heard him say naughty words."</p> +<p>"What words?"</p> +<p>"I—I can't say `em. They're wicked. I'm—I'm 'fraid +he's goin' to be burnt up," I stammered.</p> +<p>"It's so. I said 'em," my uncle confessed.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel turned to me and said: "Bart, you go right down to the +barn and bring me a strap—ayes!—you bring me a +strap—right away."</p> +<p>I walked slowly toward the barn. For the moment, I was sorry +that I had told on my uncle. Scalding tears began to flow down my +cheeks. I sat on the steps to the hay loft for a moment to collect +my thoughts.</p> +<p>Then I heard Aunt Deel call to me: "Hurry up, Bart."</p> +<p>I rose and picked out the smallest strap I could find and walked +slowly back to the house. I said, in a trembling voice, as I +approached them, "I—I don't think he meant it."</p> +<p>"He'll have to be punished—just the +same—ayes—he will."</p> +<p>We went into the house together, I sniffling, but curious to see +what was going to happen. Uncle Peabody, by prearrangement, as I +know now, lay face downward on the sofa, and Aunt Deel began to +apply the strap. It was more than I could bear, and I threw myself +between my beloved friend and the strap and pleaded with loud cries +for his forgiveness.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody rose and walked out of the house without a word +and with a sterner look in his face than I had ever seen there. I +searched for him as soon as my excitement had passed, but in vain. +I went out back of the cow barn and looked away down across the +stumpy flats. Neither he nor Shep were in sight. All that lonely +afternoon I watched for him. The sun fell warm but my day was dark. +Aunt Deel found me in tears sitting on the steps of the cheese +house and got her Indian book out of her trunk and, after she had +cautioned me to be very careful of it, let me sit down with it by +myself alone, and look at the pictures.</p> +<p>I had looked forward to the time when I could be trusted to sit +alone with the Indian book. In my excitement over the picture of a +red man tomahawking a child I turned a page so swiftly that I put a +long tear in it. My pleasure was gone. I carefully joined the torn +edges and closed the book and put it on the table and ran and hid +behind the barn.</p> +<p>By and by I saw Uncle Peabody coming down the lane with the +cows, an ax on his shoulder. I ran to meet him with a joy in my +heart as great as any I have ever known. He greeted me with a +cheerful word and leaned over me and held me close against his legs +and looked into my eyes and asked:</p> +<p>"Are you willin' to kiss me?"</p> +<p>I kissed him and then he said:</p> +<p>"If ye ever hear me talk like that ag'in, I'll let the stoutest +man in Ballybeen hit me with his ax."</p> +<p>I was not feeling well and went to bed right after supper. As I +was undressing I heard Aunt Deel exclaim: "My heavens! See what +that boy has done to my Indian book—ayes! Ain't that +awful!—ayes!"</p> +<p>"Pretend ye ain't noticed it," said Uncle Peabody. "He's had +trouble enough for one day."</p> +<p>A deep silence followed in which I knew that Aunt Deel was +probably wiping tears from her eyes. I went to bed feeling +better.</p> +<p>Next day the stage, on its way to Ballybeen, came to our house +and left a box and a letter from Mr. Wright, addressed to my uncle, +which read:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR SIR—I send herewith a box of books and magazines in +the hope that you or Miss Baynes will read them aloud to my little +partner and in doing so get some enjoyment and profit for +yourselves.</p> +</div> +<div class="blockquot"> +<div class="blockquot"> +"Yours respectfully,<br /> +S. WRIGHT, JR.</div></div> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"P.S.—When the contents of the box has duly risen into your +minds, will you kindly see that it does a like service to your +neighbors in School District No. 7? S.W., JR."</p> +</div> +<p>"I guess Bart has made a friend o' this great man—sartin +ayes!" said Aunt Deel. "I wonder who'll be the next one."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>IN THE LIGHT OF THE CANDLES</h3> +<p>I remember that I tried to walk and talk like Silas Wright after +that day. He had a way of twisting little locks of his hair between +his thumb and finger when he sat thinking. I practised that trick +of his when I was alone and unobserved.</p> +<p>One day I was walking up and down, as I had seen Mr. Wright do, +and talking to my friend "Baynes," when Aunt Deel called to me that +I should bring the candle molds from the shed. I was keeper of the +molds and greatly enjoyed the candle-making. First we strung the +wicks on slender wooden rods—split and whittled by Uncle +Peabody and me as we sat down by the stove in the evening. Then the +wicks were let down into tin molds, each of which ended in a little +inverted cone with a hole through its point. We carefully worked +the wick ends through these perforations and drew them tight. When +the mold was ready we poured in the melted tallow, which hardened +in a few minutes. Later, by pulling the wooden rods, we loosened +the candles and drew them out of the molds. They were as smooth and +white as polished alabaster. With shears we trimmed the wick ends. +The iron candlesticks were filled and cleaned of drippings and set +on the little corner shelf above the sink.</p> +<p>When night fell again and the slender white shaft, rising above +its base of iron, was crowned with yellow flame, I can think of +nothing more beautiful in color, shape and symbolism. It was the +torch of liberty and learning in the new world—a light-house +on the shore of the great deep.</p> +<p>The work of the day ended, the candles were grouped near the +edge of the table and my aunt's armchair was placed beside them. +Then I sat on Uncle Peabody's lap by the fire or, as time went on, +in my small chair beside him, while Aunt Deel adjusted her +spectacles and began to read.</p> +<p>At last those of wearied bones and muscles had sat down to look +abroad with the mind's eye. Their reason began to concern itself +with problems beyond the narrow limits of the house and farm; their +imaginations took the wings of the poet and rose above all their +humble tasks.</p> +<p>I recall how, when the candles were lighted, storyteller, +statesman, explorer, poet and preacher came from the far ends of +the earth and poured their souls into ours. It was a dim +light—that of the candles—but even to-day it shines +through the long alley of these many years upon my pathway. I see +now what I saw not then in the candle-light, a race marching out of +darkness, ignorance and poverty with our little party in the +caravan. Crowding on, they widened the narrow way of their stern +religion.</p> +<p>At first we had only <i>The Horse Farrier, The Cattle Book, The +Story of the Indian Wars</i>—a book which had been presented +to Aunt Deel by her grandmother, and which in its shroud of white +linen lay buried in her trunk most of the time for fear harm would +come to it, as it did, indeed, when in a moment of generosity she +had loaned it to me. The Bible and the <i>St. Lawrence +Republican</i> were always with us.</p> +<p>Many a night, when a speech of Daniel Webster or Henry Clay or +Dewitt Clinton had pushed me to the edge of unconsciousness, while +I resisted by counting the steel links in the watch chain of Uncle +Peabody—my rosary in every time of trouble—I had been +bowled over the brink by some account of horse colic and its +remedy, or of the proper treatment of hoof disease in sheep. I +suffered keenly from the horse colic and like troubles and from the +many hopes and perils of democracy in my childhood. I found the +Bible, however, the most joyless book of all, Samson being, as I +thought, the only man in it who amounted to much. A shadow lay +across its pages which came, I think, from the awful solemnity of +my aunt when she opened them. It reminded me of a dark rainy day +made fearful by thunder and lightning. It was not the cheerful +thing, illumined by the immortal faith of man which, since then, I +have found it to be. The box of books changed the whole current of +our lives.</p> +<p>I remember vividly that evening when we took out the books and +tenderly felt their covers and read their titles. There were +<i>Cruikshanks' Comic Almanac</i> and <i>Hood's Comic Annual</i>; +tales by Washington Irving and James K. Paulding and Nathaniel +Hawthorne and Miss Mitford and Miss Austin; the poems of John +Milton and Felicia Hemans. Of the treasures in the box I have now; +in my possession: A life of Washington, <i>The Life and Writings of +Doctor Duckworth</i>, <i>The Stolen Child</i>, by "John Galt, +Esq."; <i>Rosine Laval</i>, by "Mr. Smith"; <i>Sermons and +Essays</i>, by William Ellery Channing. We found in the box, also, +thirty numbers of the <i>United States Magazine and Democratic +Review</i> and sundry copies of the <i>New York Mirror</i>.</p> +<p>"Ayes! I declare! What do you think o' this, Peabody Baynes!" +Aunt Deel exclaimed as she sat turning the pages of a novel. "Ye +know Aunt Minervy used to say that a novel was a fast horse on the +road to perdition—ayes!"</p> +<p>"Well she wasn't—" Uncle Peabody began and stopped +suddenly. What he meant to say about her will never be definitely +known. In half a moment he added:</p> +<p>"I guess if Sue Wright recommends 'em they won't hurt us +any."</p> +<p>"Ayes! I ain't afraid—we'll wade into 'em," she answered +recklessly. "Ayes! we'll see what they're about."</p> +<p>Aunt Deel began with <i>The Stolen Child</i>. She read slowly +and often paused for comment or explanation or laughter or to touch +the corner of an eye with a corner of her handkerchief in moments +when we were all deeply moved by the misfortunes of our favorite +characters, which were acute and numerous. Often she stopped to +spell out phrases of French or Latin, whereupon Uncle Peabody would +exclaim:</p> +<p>"Call it 'snags' and go on."</p> +<p>The "snags" were numerous in certain of the books we read, in +which case Uncle Peabody would exclaim:</p> +<p>"Say, that's purty rough plowin'. Mebbe you better move into +another field."</p> +<p>How often I have heard Aunt Deel reading when the effect was +like this:</p> +<p>"The Duchess exclaimed with an accent which betrayed the fact +that she had been reared in the French Capital: 'Snags!' Whereupon +Sir Roger rejoined in French equally patrician: 'Snags!"</p> +<p>Those days certain authors felt it necessary to prove that their +education had not been neglected or forgotten. Their way was strewn +with fragments of classic lore intended to awe and mystify the +reader, while evidences of correct religious sentiment were +dropped, here and there, to reassure him. The newspapers and +magazines of the time, like certain of its books, were salted with +little advertisements of religion, and virtue and honesty and +thrift.</p> +<p>In those magazines we read of the great West—"the poor +man's paradise"—"the stoneless land of plenty"; of its +delightful climate, of the ease with which the farmer prospered on +its rich soil. Uncle Peabody spoke playfully of going West, after +that, but Aunt Deel made no answer and concealed her opinion on +that subject for a long time. As for myself, the reading had +deepened my interest in east and west and north and south and in +the skies above them. How mysterious and inviting they had +become!</p> +<p>One evening a neighbor had brought the <i>Republican</i> from +the post-office. I opened it and read aloud these words, in large +type at the top of the page:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>Silas Wright Elected to the U.S. Senate.</p> +</div> +<p>"Well I want to know!" Uncle Peabody exclaimed. "That would make +me forgit it if I was goin' to be hung. Go on and read what it +says."</p> +<p>I read of the choosing of our friend for the seat made vacant by +the resignation of William L. Marcy, who had been elected governor, +and the part which most impressed us were these words from a letter +of Mr. Wright to Azariah Flagg of Albany, written when the former +was asked to accept the place:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"I am too young and too poor for such an elevation. I have not +had the experience in that great theater of politics to qualify me +for a place so exalted and responsible. I prefer therefore the +humbler position which I now occupy."</p> +</div> +<p>"That's his way," said Uncle Peabody. "They had hard work to +convince him that he knew enough to be Surrogate."</p> +<p>"Big men have little conceit—ayes!" said Aunt Deel with a +significant glance at me.</p> +<p>The candles had burned low and I was watching the shroud of one +of them when there came a rap at the door. It was unusual for any +one to come to our door in the evening and we were a bit startled. +Uncle Peabody opened it and old Kate entered without speaking and +nodded to my aunt and uncle and sat down by the fire. Vividly I +remembered the day of the fortune-telling. The same gentle smile +lighted her face as she looked at me. She held up her hand with +four fingers spread above it.</p> +<p>"Ayes," said Aunt Deel, "there are four perils."</p> +<p>My aunt rose and went into the but'ry while I sat staring at the +ragged old woman. Her hair was white now and partly covered by a +worn and faded bonnet. Forbidding as she was I did not miss the +sweetness in her smile and her blue eyes when she looked at me. +Aunt Deel came with a plate of doughnuts and bread and butter and +head cheese and said in a voice full of pity:</p> +<p>"Poor ol' Kate—ayes! Here's somethin' for +ye—ayes!"</p> +<p>She turned to, my uncle and said:</p> +<p>"Peabody Baynes, what'll we do—I'd like to +know—ayes! She can't rove all night."</p> +<p>"I'll git some blankets an' make a bed for her, good 'nough for +anybody, out in the hired man's room over the shed," said my +uncle.</p> +<p>He brought the lantern—a little tower of perforated +tin—and put a lighted candle inside of it. Then he beckoned +to the stranger, who followed him out of the front door with the +plate of food in her hands.</p> +<p>"Well I declare! It's a long time since she went up this +road—ayes!" said Aunt Deel, yawning as she resumed her +chair.</p> +<p>"Who is ol' Kate?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, just a poor ol' crazy woman—wanders all +'round—ayes!"</p> +<p>"What made her crazy?"</p> +<p>"Oh, I guess somebody misused and deceived her when she was +young—ayes! It's an awful wicked thing to do. Come, +Bart—go right up to bed now. It's high time—ayes!"</p> +<p>"I want to wait 'til Uncle Peabody comes back," said I.</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"I—I'm afraid she'll do somethin' to him."</p> +<p>"Nonsense! Ol' Kate is just as harmless as a kitten. You take +your candle and go right up to bed—this +minute—ayes!"</p> +<p>I went up-stairs with the candle and undressed very slowly and +thoughtfully while I listened for the footsteps of my uncle. I did +not get into bed until I heard him come in and blow out his lantern +and start up the stairway. As he undressed he told me how for many +years the strange woman had been roving in the roads "up hill and +down dale, thousands an' thousands o' miles," and never reaching +the end of her journey.</p> +<p>In a moment we heard a low wail above the sound of the breeze +that shook the leaves of the old "popple" tree above our roof.</p> +<p>"What's that?" I whispered.</p> +<p>"I guess it's ol' Kate ravin'," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>It touched my heart and I lay listening for a time but heard +only the loud whisper of the popple leaves.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE GREAT STRANGER</h3> +<p>Some strangers came along the road those days—hunters, +peddlers and the like—and their coming filled me with a joy +which mostly went away with them, I regret to say. None of these, +however, appealed to my imagination as did old Kate. But there was +one stranger greater than she—greater, indeed, than any other +who came into Rattleroad. He came rarely and would not be long +detained. How curiously we looked at him, knowing his fame and +power! This great stranger was Money.</p> +<p>I shall never forget the day that my uncle showed me a dollar +bill and a little shiny, gold coin and three pieces of silver, nor +can I forget how carefully he watched them while they lay in my +hands and presently put them back into his wallet. That was long +before the time of which I am writing. I remember hearing him say, +one day of that year, when I asked him to take us to the Caravan of +Wild Beasts which was coming to the village:</p> +<p>"I'm sorry, but it's been a hundred Sundays since I had a dollar +in my wallet for more than ten minutes."</p> +<p>I have his old account book for the years of 1837 and 1838. Here +are some of the entries:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Balanced accounts with J. Dorothy and gave him my note for +$2.15, to be paid in salts January 1, 1838. Sold ten bushels of +wheat to E. Miner at 90 cents, to be paid in goods.</p> +<p>"Sold two sheep to Flavius Curtis and took his note for $6, +payable in boots on or before March the first."</p> +</div> +<p>Only one entry in more than a hundred mentions money, and this +was the sum of eleven cents received in balance from a +neighbor.</p> +<p>So it will be seen that a spirit of mutual accommodation served +to help us over the rough going. Mr. Grimshaw, however, demanded +his pay in cash and that I find was, mainly, the habit of the +money-lenders.</p> +<p>We were poor but our poverty was not like that of these days in +which I am writing. It was proud and cleanly and well-fed. We had +in us the best blood of the Puritans. Our fathers had seen heroic +service in the wars and we knew it.</p> +<p>There were no farmer-folk who thought more of the virtue of +cleanliness. On this subject my aunt was a deep and tireless +thinker. She kept a watchful eye upon us. In her view men-folks +were like floors, furniture and dishes. They were in the nature of +a responsibility—a tax upon women as it were. Every day she +reminded me of the duty of keeping my body clean. Its members had +often suffered the tyranny of the soaped hand at the side of the +rain barrel. I suppose that all the waters of this world have gone +up in the sky and come down again since those far days, but even +now the thought of my aunt brings back the odor of soft soap and +rain barrels.</p> +<p>She did her best, also, to keep our minds in a cleanly state of +preservation—a work in which the teacher rendered important +service. He was a young man from Canton.</p> +<p>One day when I had been kept after hours for swearing in a fight +and then denying it, he told me that there was no reason why I +shouldn't be a great man if I stuck to my books and kept my heart +clean. I heard with alarm that there was another part of me to be +kept clean. How was it to be done?</p> +<p>"Well, just make up your mind that you'll never lie, whatever +else you do," he said. "You can't do anything bad or mean unless +you intend to cover it up with lies."</p> +<p>What a simple rule was this of the teacher!—and +yet—well the very next thing he said was:</p> +<p>"Where did you hear all that swearing?"</p> +<p>How could I answer his question truthfully? I was old enough to +know that the truth would disgrace my Uncle Peabody. I could not +tell the truth, therefore, and I didn't. I put it all on Dug +Draper, although his swearing had long been a dim, indefinite and +useless memory.</p> +<p>As a penalty I had to copy two maxims of Washington five times +in my writing-book. In doing so I put them on the wall of my memory +where I have seen them every day of my life and from which I read +as I write.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Speak no evil of the absent for it is unjust."</p> +<p>"Labor to keep alive in your breast that little spark of +celestial fire called conscience."</p> +</div> +<p>The boys in the school were a sturdy big-boned lot with arms and +legs like the springing bow. Full-lunged, great-throated fellows, +they grew to be, calling the sheep and cattle in the land of +far-reaching pastures. There was an undersized boy three years +older who often picked on me and with whom I would have no peaceful +commerce.</p> +<p>I copy from an old memorandum book a statement of my daily +routine just as I put it down one of those days:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"My hardest choar is to get up after uncle calls me. I scramble +down stairs and pick up my boots and socks and put them on. Then I +go into the setting room and put on my jacket. I get some brand for +the sheep. Then I put on my cap and mittens and go out and feed the +sheep. Then I get my breakfast. Then I put on my frock, cap, +mittens and fetch in my wood. Then I feed the horses their oats. +Then I lay away my old clothes until night. I put on my best coat +and mittens and tippet and start for school. By the time I get to +Joe's my toes are cold and I stop and warm them. When I get to +school I warm me at the stove. Then I go to my seat and study my +reader, then I take out my arithmetic, then my spelling book, then +comes the hardest study that ever landed on Plymouth Rock. It is +called geography. After the spelling lesson comes noon. The teacher +plays with me cos the other boys are so big. I am glad when I go +home. Then I do my choars again, and hear my aunt read until +bedtime."</p> +</div> +<p>There were girls in the school, but none like Sally. They +whispered together with shy glances in our direction, as if they +knew funny secrets about us, and would then break into noisy jeers. +They did not interest me, and probably because I had seen the +lightness and grace and beauty of Sally Dunkelberg and tasted the +sweetness of her fancies.</p> +<p>There were the singing and spelling schools and the lyceums, but +those nights were few and far between. Not more than four or five +in the whole winter were we out of the joyful candle-light of our +own home. Even then our hands were busy making lighters or splint +brooms, or paring and quartering and stringing the apples or +cracking butternuts while Aunt Deel read.</p> +<p>After the sheep came we kept only two cows. The absence of +cattle was a help to the general problem of cleanliness. The sheep +were out in the fields and I kept away from them for fear the rams +would butt me. I remember little of the sheep save the washing and +shearing and the lambs which Uncle Peabody brought to our fireside +to be warmed on cold mornings of the early spring. I remember +asking where the lambs came from when I was a small boy, and that +Uncle Peabody said they came from "over the river"—a place +regarding which his merry ignorance provoked me. In the spring they +were driven to the deep hole and dragged, one by one, into the cold +water to have their fleeces washed. When the weather had warmed men +came to shear them and their oily white fleeces were clipped close +to the skin and each taken off in one piece like a coat and rolled +up and put on the wool pile.</p> +<p>I was twelve years old when I began to be the reader for our +little family. Aunt Deel had long complained that she couldn't keep +up with her knitting and read so much. We had not seen Mr. Wright +for nearly two years, but he had sent us the novels of Sir Walter +Scott and I had led them heart deep into the creed battles of Old +Mortality.</p> +<p>Then came the evil days of 1837, when the story of our lives +began to quicken its pace and excite our interest in its coming +chapters. It gave us enough to think of, God knows.</p> +<p>Wild speculations in land and the American paper-money system +had brought us into rough going. The banks of the city of New York +had suspended payment of their notes. They could no longer meet +their engagements. As usual, the burden fell heaviest on the poor. +It was hard to get money even for black salts.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody had been silent and depressed for a month or more. +He had signed a note for Rodney Barnes, a cousin, long before and +was afraid that he would have to pay it. I didn't know what a note +was and I remember that one night, when I lay thinking about it, I +decided that it must be something in the nature of horse colic. My +uncle told me that a note was a trouble which attacked the brain +instead of the stomach. I was with Uncle Peabody so much that I +shared his feeling but never ventured to speak of it or its cause. +He didn't like to be talked to when he felt badly. At such times he +used to say that he had the brain colic. He told me that notes had +an effect on the brain like that of green apples on the +stomach.</p> +<p>One autumn day in Canton Uncle Peabody traded three sheep and +twenty bushels of wheat for a cook stove and brought it home in the +big wagon. Rodney Barnes came with him to help set up the stove. He +was a big giant of a man with the longest nose in the township. I +had often wondered how any one would solve the problem of kissing +Mr. Barnes in the immediate region of his nose, the same being in +the nature of a defense.</p> +<p>I remember that I regarded it with a kind of awe because I had +been forbidden to speak of it. The command invested Mr. Barnes' +nose with a kind of sanctity. Indeed it became one of the treasures +of my imagination.</p> +<p>That evening I was chiefly interested in the stove. What a joy +it was to me with its damper and griddles and high oven and the +shiny edge on its hearth! It rivaled, in its novelty and charm, any +tin peddler's cart that ever came to our door. John Axtell and his +wife, who had seen it pass their house, hurried over for a look at +it. Every hand was on the stove as we tenderly carried it into the +house, piece by piece, and set it up. Then they cut a hole in the +upper floor and the stone chimney and fitted the pipe. How keenly +we watched the building of the fire! How quickly it roared and +began to heat the room!</p> +<p>When the Axtells had gone away Aunt Deel said:</p> +<p>"It's grand! It is sartin—but I'm 'fraid we can't afford +it—ayes I be!"</p> +<p>"We can't afford to freeze any longer. I made up my mind that we +couldn't go through another winter as we have," was my uncle's +answer.</p> +<p>"How much did it cost?" she asked.</p> +<p>"Not much differ'nt from thirty-four dollars in sheep and +grain," he answered.</p> +<p>Rodney Barnes stayed to supper and spent a part of the evening +with us.</p> +<p>Like other settlers there, Mr. Barnes was a cheerful optimist. +Everything looked good to him until it turned out badly. He stood +over the stove with a stick of wood and made gestures with it as he +told how he had come from Vermont with a team and a pair of oxen +and some bedding and furniture and seven hundred dollars in money. +He flung the stick of wood into the box with a loud thump as he +told how he had bought his farm of Benjamin Grimshaw at a price +which doubled its value. True it was the price which other men had +paid in the neighborhood, but they had all paid too much. Grimshaw +had established the price and called it fair. He had taken Mr. +Barnes to two or three of the settlers on the hills above +Lickitysplit.</p> +<p>"Tell this man what you think about the kind o' land we got +here," Grimshaw had demanded.</p> +<p>The tenant recommended it. He had to. They were all afraid of +Grimshaw. Mr. Barnes picked up a flat iron and felt its bottom and +waved it in the air as he alleged that it was a rocky, stumpy, +rooty, God-forsaken region far from church or market or school on a +rough road almost impassable for a third of the year. Desperate +economy and hard work had kept his nose to the grindstone but, +thank God, he had nose enough left.</p> +<p>Now and then Grimshaw (and others like him) loaned money to +people, but he always had some worthless hay or a broken-down horse +which you had to buy before you could get the money.</p> +<p>Mr. Barnes put down the flat iron and picked up the poker and +tried its strength on his knee as he told how he had heard that it +was a growing country near the great water highway of the St. +Lawrence. Prosperous towns were building up in it. There were going +to be great cities in Northern New York. What they called a +railroad was coming. There were rich stores of lead and iron in the +rocks. Mr. Barnes had bought two hundred acres at ten dollars an +acre. He had to pay a fee of five per cent. to Grimshaw's lawyer +for the survey and the papers. This left him owing fourteen hundred +dollars on his farm—much more than it was worth. One hundred +acres of the land had been roughly cleared by Grimshaw and a former +tenant. The latter had toiled and struggled and paid tribute and +given up.</p> +<p>Our cousin twisted the poker in his great hands until it +squeaked as he stood before my uncle and said:</p> +<p>"My wife and I have chopped and burnt and pried and hauled rocks +an' shoveled dung an' milked an' churned until we are worn out. For +almost twenty years we've been workin' days an' nights an' Sundays. +My mortgage was over-due, I owed six hundred dollars on it. I +thought it all over one day an' went up to Grimshaw's an' took him +by the back of the neck and shook him. He said he would drive me +out o' the country. He gave me six months to pay up. I had to pay +or lose the land. I got the money on the note that you signed over +in Potsdam. Nobody in Canton would 'a' dared to lend it to me."</p> +<p>The poker broke and he threw the pieces under the stove.</p> +<p>"Why?" my uncle asked.</p> +<p>Mr. Barnes got hold of another stick of wood and went on.</p> +<p>"'Fraid o' Grimshaw. He didn't want me to be able to pay it. The +place is worth more than six hundred dollars now—that's the +reason. I intended to cut some timber an' haul it to the village +this winter so I could pay a part o' the note an' git more time as +I told ye, but the roads have been so bad I couldn't do any +haulin'."</p> +<p>My uncle went and took a drink at the water pail. I saw by his +face that he was unusually wrought up.</p> +<p>"My heavens an' earth!" he exclaimed as he sat down again.</p> +<p>"It's the brain colic," I said to myself as I looked at him.</p> +<p>Mr. Barnes seemed to have it also.</p> +<p>"Too much note," I whispered.</p> +<p>"I'm awful sorry, but I've done everything I could," said Mr. +Barnes.</p> +<p>"Ain't there somebody that'll take another mortgage?—it +ought to be safe now," my uncle suggested.</p> +<p>"Money is so tight it can't be done. The bank has got all the +money an' Grimshaw owns the bank. I've tried and tried, but I'll +make you safe. I'll give you a mortgage until I can turn +'round."</p> +<p>So I saw how Rodney Barnes, like other settlers in Lickitysplit, +had gone into bondage to the landlord.</p> +<p>"How much do you owe on this place?" Barnes asked.</p> +<p>"Seven hundred an' fifty dollars," said my uncle.</p> +<p>"Is it due?"</p> +<p>"It's been due a year an' if I have to pay that note I'll be +short my interest."</p> +<p>"God o' Israel! I'm scairt," said Barnes.</p> +<p>Down crashed the stick of wood into the box.</p> +<p>"What about?"</p> +<p>Mr. Barnes tackled a nail that stuck out of the woodwork and +tried to pull it between his thumb and finger while I watched the +process with growing interest.</p> +<p>"It would be like him to put the screws on you now," he grunted, +pulling at the nail. "You've got between him an' his prey. You've +taken the mouse away from the cat."</p> +<p>I remember the little panic that fell on us then. I could see +tears in the eyes of Aunt Deel as she sat with her head leaning +wearily on her hand.</p> +<p>"If he does I'll do all I can," said Barnes, "whatever I've got +will be yours."</p> +<p>The nail came out of the wall.</p> +<p>"I had enough saved to pay off the mortgage," my uncle answered. +"I suppose it'll have to go for the note."</p> +<p>Mr. Barnes' head was up among the dried apples on the ceiling. A +movement of his hand broke a string of them. Then he dropped his +huge bulk into a chair which crashed to the floor beneath him. He +rose blushing and said:</p> +<p>"I guess I better go or I'll break everything you've got here. I +kind o' feel that way."</p> +<p>Rodney Barnes left us.</p> +<p>I remember how Uncle Peabody stood in the middle of the floor +and whistled the merriest tune he knew.</p> +<p>"Stand right up here," he called in his most cheerful tone. +"Stand right up here before me, both o' ye."</p> +<p>I got Aunt Deel by the hand and led her toward my uncle. We +stood facing him. "Stand straighter," he demanded. "Now, +altogether. One, two, three, ready, sing."</p> +<p>He beat time with his hand in imitation of the singing master at +the schoolhouse and we joined him in singing an old tune which +began: "O keep my heart from sadness, God."</p> +<p>This irresistible spirit of the man bridged a bad hour and got +us off to bed in fairly good condition.</p> +<p>A few days later the note came due and its owner insisted upon +full payment. There was such a clamor for money those days! I +remember that my aunt had sixty dollars which she had saved, little +by little, by selling eggs and chickens. She had planned to use it +to buy a tombstone for her mother and father—a long-cherished +ambition. My uncle needed the most of it to help pay the note. We +drove to Potsdam on that sad errand and what a time we had getting +there and back in deep mud and sand and jolting over corduroys!</p> +<p>"Bart," my uncle said the next evening, as I took down the book +to read. "I guess we'd better talk things over a little to-night. +These are hard times. If we can find anybody with money enough to +buy 'em I dunno but we better sell the sheep."</p> +<p>"If you hadn't been a fool," my aunt exclaimed with a look of +great distress—"ayes! if you hadn't been a fool."</p> +<p>"I'm just what I be an' I ain't so big a fool that I need to be +reminded of it," said my uncle.</p> +<p>"I'll stay at home an' work," I proposed bravely.</p> +<p>"You ain't old enough for that," sighed Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>"I want to keep you in school," said Uncle Peabody, who sat +making a splint broom.</p> +<p>While we were talking in walked Benjamin Grimshaw—the rich +man of the hills. He didn't stop to knock but walked right in as if +the house were his own. It was common gossip that he held a +mortgage on every acre of the countryside. I had never liked him, +for he was a stern-eyed man who was always scolding somebody, and I +had not forgotten what his son had said of him.</p> +<p>"Good night!" he exclaimed curtly, as he sat down and set his +cane between his feet and rested his hands upon it. He spoke +hoarsely and I remember the curious notion came to me that he +looked like our old ram. The stern and rugged face of Mr. Grimshaw +and the rusty gray of his homespun and the hoarseness of his tone +had suggested this thought to me. The long silvered tufts above his +keen, gray eyes moved a little as he looked at my uncle. There were +deep lines upon his cheeks and chin and forehead. He wore a thin, +gray beard under his chin. His mouth was shut tight in a long line +curving downward a little at the ends. My uncle used to say that +his mouth was made to keep his thoughts from leaking and going to +waste. He had a big body, a big chin, a big mouth, a big nose and +big ears and hands. His eyes lay small in this setting of +bigness.</p> +<p>"Why, Mr. Grimshaw, it's years since you've been in our +house—ayes!" said Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>"I suppose it is," he answered rather sharply. "I don't have +much time to get around. I have to work. There's some people seem +to be able to git along without it."</p> +<p>He drew in his breath quickly and with a hissing sound after +every sentence.</p> +<p>"How are your folks?" my aunt asked.</p> +<p>"So's to eat their allowance—there's never any trouble +about that," said Mr. Grimshaw. "I see you've got one o' these +newfangled stoves," he added as he looked it over. "Huh! Rich folks +can have anything they want."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody had sat splintering the long stick of yellow +birch. I observed that the jackknife trembled in his hand. His tone +had a touch of unnaturalness, proceeding no doubt from his fear of +the man before him, as he said:</p> +<p>"When I bought that stove I felt richer than I do now. I had +almost enough to settle with you up to date, but I signed a note +for a friend and had to pay it."</p> +<p>"Ayuh! I suppose so," Grimshaw answered in a tone of bitter +irony which cut me like a knife-blade, young as I was. "What +business have you signin' notes an' givin' away money which ain't +yours to give—I'd like to know? What business have you actin' +like a rich man when you can't pay yer honest debts? I'd like to +know that, too?"</p> +<p>"If I've ever acted like a rich man it's been when I wa'n't +lookin'," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>"What business have you got enlargin' yer family—takin' +another mouth to feed and another body to spin for? That costs +money. I ain't no objection if a man can afford it, but the money +it costs ain't yours to give. It looks as if it belonged to me. You +spend yer nights readin' books when ye ought to be to work an' +you've scattered that kind o' foolishness all over the +neighborhood. I want to tell you one thing, Baynes, you've got to +pay up or git out o' here."</p> +<p>He raised his cane and shook it in the air as he spoke.</p> +<p>"Oh, I ain't no doubt o' that," said Uncle Peabody. "You'll have +to have yer money—that's sure; an' you will have it if I +live, every cent of it. This boy is goin' to be a great help to +me—you don't know what a good boy he is and what a comfort +he's been to us!"</p> +<p>I had understood that reference to me in Mr. Grimshaw's +complaint and these words of my beloved uncle uncovered my emotions +so that I put my elbow on the wood-box and leaned my head upon it +and sobbed.</p> +<p>"I tell ye I'd rather have that boy than all the money you've +got, Mr. Grimshaw," Uncle Peabody added.</p> +<p>My aunt came and patted my shoulder and said: +"Sh—sh—sh! Don't you care, Bart! You're just the same +as if you was our own boy—ayes!—you be."</p> +<p>"I ain't goin' to be hard on ye, Baynes," said Mr. Grimshaw as +he rose from his chair; "I'll give ye three months to see what you +can do. I wouldn't wonder if the boy would turn out all right. He's +big an' cordy of his age an' a purty likely boy they tell me. He'd +'a' been all right at the county house until he was old enough to +earn his livin', but you was too proud for that—wasn't ye? I +don't mind pride unless it keeps a man from payin' his honest +debts. You ought to have better sense."</p> +<p>"An' you ought to keep yer breath to cool yer porridge," said +Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>Mr. Grimshaw opened the door and stood for a moment looking at +us and added in a milder tone: "You've got one o' the best farms in +this town an' if ye work hard an' use common sense ye ought to be +out o' debt in five years—mebbe less."</p> +<p>He closed the door and went away.</p> +<p>Neither of us moved or spoke as we listened to his footsteps on +the gravel path that went down to the road and to the sound of his +buggy as he drove away. Then Uncle Peabody broke the silence by +saying:</p> +<p>"He's the dam'dest—"</p> +<p>He stopped, set the half-splintered stick aside, closed his +jackknife and went to the water-pail to cool his emotions with a +drink.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel took up the subject where he had dropped it, as if no +half-expressed sentiment would satisfy her, saying:</p> +<p>"—old skinflint that ever lived in this world, ayes! I +ain't goin' to hold down my opinion o' that man no longer, ayes! I +can't. It's too powerful—ayes!"</p> +<p>Having recovered my composure I repeated that I should like to +give up school and stay at home and work.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel interrupted me by saying:</p> +<p>"I have an idee that Sile Wright will help us—ayes! He's +comin' home an' you better go down an' see him—ayes! Hadn't +ye?"</p> +<p>"Bart an' I'll go down to-morrer," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>I remember well our silent going to bed that night and how I lay +thinking and praying that I might grow fast and soon be able to +take the test of manhood—that of standing in a half-bushel +measure and shouldering two bushels of corn. By and by a wind began +to shake the popple leaves above us and the sound soothed me like +the whispered "hush-sh" of a gentle mother.</p> +<p>We dressed with unusual care in the morning. After the chores +were done and we had had our breakfast we went up-stairs to get +ready.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel called at the bottom of the stairs in a generous +tone:</p> +<p>"Peabody, if I was you I'd put on them butternut +trousers—ayes! an' yer new shirt an' hat an' necktie, but you +must be awful careful of 'em—ayes."</p> +<p>The hat and shirt and necktie had been stored in the clothes +press for more than a year but they were nevertheless "new" to Aunt +Deel. Poor soul! She felt the importance of the day and its duties. +It was that ancient, Yankee dread of the poorhouse that filled her +heart I suppose. Yet I wonder, often, why she wished us to be so +proudly adorned for such a crisis.</p> +<p>Some fourteen months before that day my uncle had taken me to +Potsdam and traded grain and salts for what he called a "rip +roarin' fine suit o' clothes" with boots and cap and shirt and +collar and necktie to match, I having earned them by sawing and +cording wood at three shillings a cord. How often we looked back to +those better days! The clothes had been too big for me and I had +had to wait until my growth had taken up the "slack" in my coat and +trousers before I could venture out of the neighborhood. I had +tried them on every week or so for a long time. Now my stature +filled them handsomely and they filled me with a pride and +satisfaction which I had never known before. The collar was too +tight, so that Aunt Deel had to sew one end of it to the neckband, +but my tie covered the sewing.</p> +<p>Since that dreadful day of the petticoat trousers my wonder had +been regarding all integuments, what Sally Dunkelberg would say to +them. At last I could start for Canton with a strong and capable +feeling. If I chanced to meet Sally Dunkelberg I need not hide my +head for shame as I had done that memorable Sunday.</p> +<p>"Now may the Lord help ye to be careful—awful, terrible +careful o' them clothes every minute o' this day," Aunt Deel +cautioned as she looked at me. "Don't git no horse sweat nor wagon +grease on 'em."</p> +<p>To Aunt Deel wagon grease was the worst enemy of a happy and +respectable home.</p> +<p>We hitched our team to the grasshopper spring wagon and set out +on our journey. It was a warm, hazy Indian-summer day in November. +My uncle looked very stiff and sober in his "new" clothes. Such +breathless excitement as that I felt when we were riding down the +hills and could see the distant spires of Canton, I have never +known since that day. As we passed "the mill" we saw the Silent +Woman looking out of the little window of her room above the +blacksmith shop—a low, weather-stained, frame building, hard +by the main road, with a narrow hanging stair on the side of +it.</p> +<p>"She keeps watch by the winder when she ain't travelin'," said +Uncle Peabody. "Knows all that's goin' on—that +woman—knows who goes to the village an' how long they stay. +When Grimshaw goes by they say she hustles off down the road in her +rags. She looks like a sick dog herself, but I've heard that she +keeps that room o' hers just as neat as a pin."</p> +<p>Near the village we passed a smart-looking buggy drawn by a +spry-footed horse in shiny harness. Then I noticed with a pang that +our wagon was covered with dry mud and that our horses were rather +bony and our harnesses a kind of lead color. So I was in an humble +state of mind when we entered the village. Uncle Peabody had had +little to say and I had kept still knowing that he sat in the +shadow of a great problem.</p> +<p>There was a crowd of men and women in front of Mr. Wright's +office and through its open door I saw many of his fellow townsmen. +We waited at the door for a few minutes. I crowded in while Uncle +Peabody stood talking with a villager. The Senator caught sight of +me and came to my side and put his hand on my head and said:</p> +<p>"Hello, Bart! How you've grown! and how handsome you look! +Where's your uncle?"</p> +<p>"He's there by the door," I answered.</p> +<p>"Well, le's go and see him."</p> +<p>Then I followed him out of the office.</p> +<p>Mr. Wright was stouter and grayer and grander than when I had +seen him last. He was dressed in black broadcloth and wore a big +beaver hat and high collar and his hair was almost white. I +remember vividly his clear, kindly, gray eyes and ruddy cheeks.</p> +<p>"Baynes, I'm glad to see you," he said heartily. "Did ye bring +me any jerked meat?"</p> +<p>"Didn't think of it," said Uncle Peabody. "But I've got a nice +young doe all jerked an' if you're fond o' jerk I'll bring ye down +some to-morrer."</p> +<p>"I'd like to take some to Washington but I wouldn't have you +bring it so far."</p> +<p>"I'd like to bring it—I want a chance to talk with ye for +half an hour or such a matter," said my uncle. "I've got a little +trouble on my hands."</p> +<p>"There's a lot of trouble here," said the Senator. "I've got to +settle a quarrel between two neighbors and visit a sick friend and +make a short address to the Northern New York Conference at the +Methodist Church and look over a piece of land that I'm intending +to buy, and discuss the plans for my new house with the carpenter. +I expect to get through about six o'clock and right after supper I +could ride up to your place with you and walk back early in the +morning. We could talk things over on the way up."</p> +<p>"That's first rate," said my uncle. "The chores ain't much these +days an' I guess my sister can git along with 'em."</p> +<p>The Senator took us into his office and introduced us to the +leading men of the county. There were: Minot Jenison, Gurdon Smith, +Ephraim Butterfield, Lemuel Buck, Baron S. Doty, Richard N. +Harrison, John L. Russell, Silas Baldwin, Calvin Hurlbut, Doctor +Olin, Thomas H. Conkey and Preston King. These were names with +which, the <i>Republican</i> had already made us familiar.</p> +<p>"Here," said the Senator as he put his hand on my head, "is a +coming man in the Democratic party."</p> +<p>The great men laughed at my blushes and we came away with a deep +sense of pride in us. At last I felt equal to the ordeal of meeting +the Dunkelbergs. My uncle must have shared my feeling for, to my +delight, he went straight to the basement store above which was the +modest sign: "H. Dunkelberg, Produce." I trembled as we walked down +the steps and opened the door. I saw the big gold watch chain, the +handsome clothes, the mustache and side whiskers and the large +silver ring approaching us, but I was not as scared as I expected +to be. My eyes were more accustomed to splendor.</p> +<p>"Well I swan!" said the merchant in the treble voice which I +remembered so well. "This is Bart and Peabody! How are you?"</p> +<p>"Pretty well," I answered, my uncle being too slow of speech to +suit my sense of propriety. "How is Sally?"</p> +<p>The two men laughed heartily much to my embarrassment.</p> +<p>"He's getting right down to business," said my uncle.</p> +<p>"That's right," said Mr. Dunkelberg. "Why, Bart, she's spry as a +cricket and pretty as a picture. Come up to dinner with me and see +for yourself."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody hesitated, whereupon I gave him a furtive nod and +he said "All right," and then I had a delicious feeling of +excitement. I had hard work to control my impatience while they +talked. I walked on some butter tubs in the back room and spun +around on a whirling stool that stood in front of a high desk and +succeeded in the difficult feat of tipping over a bottle of ink +without getting any on myself. I covered the multitude of my sins +on the desk with a newspaper and sat down quietly in a chair.</p> +<p>By and by I asked, "Are you 'most ready to go?"</p> +<p>"Yes—come on—it's after twelve o'clock," said Mr. +Dunkelberg. "Sally will be back from school now."</p> +<p>My conscience got the better of me and I confessed about the ink +bottle and was forgiven.</p> +<p>So we walked to the big house of the Dunkelbergs and I could +hear my heart beating when we turned in at the gate—the +golden gate of my youth it must have been, for after I had passed +it I thought no more as a child. That rude push which Mr. Grimshaw +gave me had hurried the passing.</p> +<p>I was a little surprised at my own dignity when Sally opened the +door to welcome us. My uncle told Aunt Deel that I acted and spoke +like Silas Wright, "so nice and proper." Sally was different, +too—less playful and more beautiful with long yellow curls +covering her shoulders.</p> +<p>"How nice you look!" she said as she took my arm and led me into +her playroom.</p> +<p>"These are my new clothes," I boasted. "They are very expensive +and I have to be careful of them."</p> +<p>I remember not much that we said or did but I could never forget +how she played for me on a great shiny piano—I had never seen +one before—and made me feel very humble with music more to my +liking than any I have heard since—crude and simple as it +was—while her pretty fingers ran up and down the +keyboard.</p> +<p>O magic ear of youth! I wonder how it would sound to me +now—the rollicking lilt of <i>Barney Leave the Girls +Alone</i>—even if a sweet maid flung its banter at me with +flashing fingers and well-fashioned lips.</p> +<p>I behaved myself with great care at the table—I remember +that—and, after dinner, we played in the dooryard and the +stable, I with a great fear of tearing my new clothes. I stopped +and cautioned her more than once: "Be careful! For gracious sake! +be careful o' my new suit!"</p> +<p>As we were leaving late in the afternoon she said:</p> +<p>"I wish you would come here to school."</p> +<p>"I suppose he will sometime," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>A new hope entered my breast, that moment, and began to grow +there.</p> +<p>"Aren't you going to kiss her?" said Mr. Dunkelberg with a +smile.</p> +<p>I saw the color in her cheeks deepen as she turned with a smile +and walked away two or three steps while the grown people laughed, +and stood with her back turned looking in at the window.</p> +<p>"You're looking the wrong way for the scenery," said Mr. +Dunkelberg.</p> +<p>She turned and walked toward me with a look Of resolution in her +pretty face and said:</p> +<p>"I'm not afraid of him."</p> +<p>We kissed each other and, again, that well-remembered touch of +her hair upon my face! But the feel of her warm lips upon my +own—that was so different and so sweet to remember in the +lonely days that followed! Fast flows the river to the sea when +youth is sailing on it. They had shoved me out of the quiet cove +into the swift current—those dear, kindly, thoughtless +people! Sally ran away into the house as their laughter continued +and my uncle and I walked down the street. How happy I was!</p> +<p>We went to the Methodist Church where Mr. Wright was speaking +but we couldn't get in. There were many standing at the door who +had come too late. We could hear his voice and I remember that he +seemed to be talking to the people just as I had heard him talk to +my aunt and uncle, sitting by our fireside, only louder. We were +tired and went down to the tavern and waited for him on its great +porch. We passed a number of boys playing three-old-cat in the +school yard. How I longed to be among them!</p> +<p>I observed with satisfaction that the village boys did not make +fun of me when I passed them as they did when I wore the petticoat +trousers. Mr. and Mrs. Wright came along with the crowd, by and by, +and Colonel Medad Moody. We had supper with them at the tavern and +started away in the dark with the Senator on the seat with us. He +and my uncle began to talk about the tightness of money and the +banking laws and I remember a remark of my uncle, for there was +that in his tone which I could never forget:</p> +<p>"We poor people are trusting you to look out for us—we +poor people are trusting you to see that we get treated fair. We're +havin' a hard time."</p> +<p>This touched me a little and I was keen to hear the Senator's +answer. I remember so well the sacred spirit of democracy in his +words. Long afterward I asked him to refresh my memory of them and +so I am able to quote him as he would wish.</p> +<p>"I know it," he answered. "I lie awake nights thinking about it. +I am poor myself, almost as poor as my father before me. I have +found it difficult to keep my poverty these late years but I have +not failed. I'm about as poor as you are, I guess. I could enjoy +riches, but I want to be poor so I may not forget what is due to +the people among whom I was born—you who live in small houses +and rack your bones with toil. I am one of you, although I am +racking my brain instead of my bones in our common interest. There +are so many who would crowd us down we must stand together and be +watchful or we shall be reduced to an overburdened, slavish +peasantry, pitied and despised. Our danger will increase as wealth +accumulates and the cities grow. I am for the average +man—like myself. They've lifted me out of the crowd to an +elevation which I do not deserve. I have more reputation than I +dare promise to keep. It frightens me. I am like a child clinging +to its father's hand in a place of peril. So I cling to the crowd. +It is my father. I know its needs and wrongs and troubles. I had +other things to do to-night. There were people who wished to +discuss their political plans and ambitions with me. But I thought +I would rather go with you and learn about your troubles. What are +they?"</p> +<p>My uncle told him about the note and the visit of Mr. Grimshaw +and of his threats and upbraidings.</p> +<p>"Did he say that in Bart's hearing?" asked the Senator.</p> +<p>"Ayes!—right out plain."</p> +<p>"Too bad! I'm going to tell you frankly, Baynes, that the best +thing I know about you is your conduct toward this boy. I like it. +The next best thing is the fact that you signed the note. It was +bad business but it was good Christian conduct to help your friend. +Don't regret it. You were poor and of an age when the boy's pranks +were troublesome to both of you, but you took him in. I'll lend you +the interest and try to get another holder for the mortgage on one +condition. You must let me attend to Bart's schooling. I want to be +the boss about that. We have a great schoolmaster in Canton and +when Bart is a little older I want him to go there to school. I'll +try to find him a place where he can work for his board."</p> +<p>"We'll miss Bart but we'll be tickled to death—there's no +two ways about that," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>I had been getting sleepy, but this woke me up. I no longer +heard the monotonous creak of harness and whiffletrees and the +rumble of wheels; I saw no longer the stars and the darkness of the +night. My mind had scampered off into the future. I was playing +with Sally or with the boys in the school yard.</p> +<p>The Senator tested my arithmetic and grammar and geography as we +rode along in the darkness and said by and by:</p> +<p>"You'll have to work hard, Bart. You'll have to take your book +into the field as I did. After every row of corn I learned a rule +of syntax or arithmetic or a fact in geography while I rested, and +my thought and memory took hold of it as I plied the hoe. I don't +want you to stop the reading, but from now on you must spend half +of every evening on your lessons."</p> +<p>We got home at half past eight and found my aunt greatly +worried. She had done the chores and been standing in her hood and +shawl on the porch listening for the sound of the wagon. She had +kept our suppers warm but I was the only hungry one.</p> +<p>As I was going to bed the Senator called me to him and said:</p> +<p>"I shall be gone when you are up in the morning. It may be a +long time before I see you; I shall leave something for you in a +sealed envelope with your name on it. You are not to open the +envelope until you go away to school. I know how you will feel that +first day. When night falls you will think of your aunt and uncle +and be very lonely. When you go to your room for the night I want +you to sit down all by yourself and open the envelope and read what +I shall write. They will be, I think, the most impressive words +ever written. You will think them over but you will not understand +them for a long time. Ask every wise man you meet to explain them +to you, for all your happiness will depend upon your understanding +of these few words in the envelope."</p> +<p>In the morning Aunt Deel put it in my hands.</p> +<p>"I wonder what in the world he wrote there—ayes!" said +she. "We must keep it careful—ayes!—I'll put it in my +trunk an' give it to ye when ye go to Canton to school."</p> +<p>"Has Mr. Wright gone?" I asked rather sadly.</p> +<p>"Ayes! Land o' mercy! He went away long before daylight with a +lot o' jerked meat in a pack basket—ayes! Yer uncle is goin' +down to the village to see 'bout the mortgage this afternoon, +ayes!"</p> +<p>It was a Saturday and I spent its hours cording wood in the +shed, pausing now and then for a look into my grammar. It was a +happy day, for the growing cords expressed in a satisfactory manner +my new sense of obligation to those I loved. Imaginary +conversations came into my brain as I worked and were rehearsed in +whispers.</p> +<p>"Why, Bart, you're a grand worker," my uncle would say in my +fancy. "You're as good as a hired man."</p> +<p>"Oh, that's nothing," I would answer modestly. "I want to be +useful so you won't be sorry you took me and I'm going to study +just as Mr. Wright did and be a great man if I can and help the +poor people. I'm going to be a better scholar than Sally +Dunkelberg, too."</p> +<p>What a day it was!—the first of many like it. I never +think of those days without saying to myself: "What a God's +blessing a man like Silas Wright can be in the community in which +his heart and soul are as an open book!"</p> +<p>As the evening came on I took a long look at my cords. The shed +was nearly half full of them. Four rules of syntax, also, had been +carefully stored away in my brain. I said them over as I hurried +down into the pasture with old Shep and brought in the cows. I got +through milking just as Uncle Peabody came. I saw with joy that his +face was cheerful.</p> +<p>"Yip!" he shouted as he stopped his team at the barn door where +Aunt Deel and I were standing. "We ain't got much to worry about +now. I've got the interest money right here in my pocket."</p> +<p>We unhitched and went in to supper. I was hoping that Aunt Deel +would speak of my work but she seemed not to think of it.</p> +<p>"Had a grand day!" said Uncle Peabody, as he sat down at the +table and began to tell what Mr. Wright and Mr. Dunkelberg had said +to him.</p> +<p>I, too, had had a grand day and probably my elation was greater +than his. I tarried at the looking-glass hoping that Aunt Deel +would give me a chance modestly to show my uncle what I had done. +But the talk about interest and mortgages continued. I went to my +uncle and tried to whisper in his ear a hint that he had better go +and look into the wood-shed. He stopped me before I had begun by +saying:</p> +<p>"Don't bother me now, Bub. I'll git that candy for ye the next +time I go to the village."</p> +<p>Candy! I was thinking of no such trivial matter as candy. He +couldn't know how the idea shocked me in the exalted state of mind +into which I had risen. He didn't know then of the spiritual change +in me and how generous and great I was feeling and how sublime and +beautiful was the new way in which I had set my feet.</p> +<p>I went out on the porch and stood looking down with a sad +countenance. Aunt Deel followed me.</p> +<p>"W'y, Bart!" she exclaimed, "you're too tired to eat—ayes! +Be ye sick?"</p> +<p>I shook my head.</p> +<p>"Peabody," she called, "this boy has worked like a beaver every +minute since you left—ayes he has! I never see anything to +beat it—never! I want you to come right out into the +wood-shed an' see what he's done—this minute—ayes!"</p> +<p>I followed them into the shed.</p> +<p>"W'y of all things!" my uncle exclaimed. "He's worked like a +nailer, ain't he?"</p> +<p>There were tears in his eyes when he took my hand in his rough +palm and squeezed it and said:</p> +<p>"Sometimes I wish ye was little ag'in so I could take ye up in +my arms an' kiss ye just as I used to. Horace Dunkelberg says that +you're the best-lookin' boy he ever see."</p> +<p>"Stop!" Aunt Deel exclaimed with a playful tap on his shoulder. +"W'y! ye mustn't go on like that."</p> +<p>"I'm tellin' just what he said," my uncle answered.</p> +<p>"I guess he only meant that Bart looked clean an' +decent—that's all—ayes! He didn't mean that Bart was +purty. Land sakes!—no."</p> +<p>I observed the note of warning in the look she gave my +uncle.</p> +<p>"No, I suppose not," he answered, as he turned away with a smile +and brushed one of his eyes with a rough finger.</p> +<p>I repeated the rules I had learned as we went to the table.</p> +<p>"I'm goin' to be like Silas Wright if I can," I added.</p> +<p>"That's the idee!" said Uncle Peabody. "You keep on as you've +started an' everybody'll milk into your pail."</p> +<p>I kept on—not with the vigor of that first day with its +new inspiration—but with growing strength and effectiveness. +Nights and mornings and Saturdays I worked with a will and my book +in my pocket or at the side of the field and was, I know, a help of +some value on the farm. My scholarship improved rapidly and that +year I went about as far as I could hope to go in the little school +at Leonard's Corners.</p> +<p>"I wouldn't wonder if ol' Kate was right about our boy," said +Aunt Deel one day when she saw me with my book in the field.</p> +<p>I began to know then that ol' Kate had somehow been at work in +my soul—subconsciously as I would now put it. I was trying to +put truth into the prophecy. As I look at the whole matter these +days I can see that Mr. Grimshaw himself was a help no less +important to me, for it was a sharp spur with which he continued to +prod us.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>MY SECOND PERIL</h3> +<p>We always thank God for men like Purvis: we never thank them. +They are without honor in their own time, but how they brighten the +pages of memory! How they stimulated the cheerfulness of the old +countryside and broke up its natural reticence!</p> +<p>Mr. Franklin Purvis was our hired man—an undersized +bachelor. He had a Roman nose, a face so slim that it would command +interest and attention in any company, and a serious look enhanced +by a bristling mustache and a retreating chin. At first and on +account of his size I had no very high opinion of Mr. Purvis. That +first evening after his arrival I sat with him on the porch +surveying him inside and out.</p> +<p>"You don't look very stout," I said.</p> +<p>"I ain't as big as some, but I'm all gristle from my head to my +heels, inside an' out," he answered.</p> +<p>I surveyed him again as he sat looking at the ledges. He was not +more than a head taller than I, but if he were "all gristle" he +might be entitled to respect and I was glad to learn of his hidden +resources—glad and a bit apprehensive as they began to +develop.</p> +<p>"I'm as full o' gristle as a goose's leg," he went on. "God +never made a man who could do more damage when he lets go of +himself an' do it faster. There ain't no use o' talkin'."</p> +<p>There being no use of talking, our new hired man continued to +talk while I listened with breathless interest and growing respect. +He took a chew of tobacco and squinted his eyes and seemed to be +studying the wooded rock ledges across the road as he went on:</p> +<p>"You'll find me wide awake, I <i>guess</i>. I ain't afraid o' +anythin' but lightnin'—no, sir!—an' I can hurt hard an' +do it rapid when I begin, but I can be jest as harmless as a +kitten. There ain't no man that can be more harmlesser when he +wants to be an' there's any decent chance for it—none +whatsomever! No, sir! I'd rather be harmless than not—a good +deal."</p> +<p>This relieved, and was no doubt calculated to relieve, a feeling +of insecurity which his talk had inspired. He blew out his breath +and shifted his quid as he sat with his elbows resting on his knees +and took another look at the ledges as if considering how much of +his strength would be required to move them.</p> +<p>"Have you ever hurt anybody?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Several," he answered.</p> +<p>"Did you kill 'em?"</p> +<p>"No, I never let myself go too fur. Bein' so stout, I have to be +kind o' careful."</p> +<p>After a moment's pause he went on:</p> +<p>"A man threatened to lick me up to Seaver's t'other day. You +couldn't blame him. He didn't know me from a side o' sole leather. +He just thought I was one o' them common, every-day cusses that +folks use to limber up on. But he see his mistake in time. I tell +ye God was good to him when he kept him away from me."</p> +<p>Aunt Deel called us to supper.</p> +<p>"Le's go in an' squench our hunger," Mr. Purvis proposed as he +rose and shut his jackknife.</p> +<p>I was very much impressed and called him "Mr. Purvis" after +that. I enjoyed and believed many tales of adventure in which he +had been the hero as we worked together in the field or stable. I +told them to my aunt and uncle one evening, whereupon the latter +said:</p> +<p>"He's a good man to work, but Jerusalem—!"</p> +<p>He stopped. He always stopped at the brink of every such +precipice. I had never heard him finish an uncomplimentary +sentence.</p> +<p>I began to have doubts regarding the greatness of our hired man. +I still called him "Mr. Purvis," but all my fear of him had +vanished.</p> +<p>One day Mr. Grimshaw came out in the field to see my uncle. They +walked away to the shade of a tree while "Mr. Purvis" and I went on +with the hoeing. I could hear the harsh voice of the money-lender +speaking in loud and angry tones and presently he went away.</p> +<p>"What's the rip?" I asked as my uncle returned looking very +sober.</p> +<p>"We won't talk about it now," he answered.</p> +<p>That look and the fears it inspired ruined my day which had +begun with eager plans for doing and learning. In the candle-light +of the evening Uncle Peabody said:</p> +<p>"Grimshaw has demanded his mortgage money an' he wants it in +gold coin. We'll have to git it some way, I dunno how."</p> +<p>"W'y of all things!" my aunt exclaimed. "How are we goin' to git +all that money—these hard times?—ayes! I'd like to +know?"</p> +<p>"Well, I can't tell ye," said Uncle Peabody. "I guess he can't +forgive us for savin' Rodney Barnes."</p> +<p>"What did he say?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Why, he says we hadn't no business to hire a man to help us. He +says you an' me ought to do all the work here. He thinks I ought to +took you out o' school long ago."</p> +<p>"I can stay out o' school and keep on with my lessons," I +said.</p> +<p>"Not an' please him. He was mad when he see ye with a book in +yer hand out there in the corn-field."</p> +<p>What were we to do now? I spent the first sad night of my life +undoing the plans which had been so dear to me but not so dear as +my aunt and uncle. I decided to give all my life and strength to +the saving of the farm. I would still try to be great, but not as +great as the Senator. Purvis stayed with us through the summer and +fall.</p> +<p>After the crops were in we cut and burned great heaps of timber +and made black salts of the ashes by leaching water through them +and boiling down the lye. We could sell the salts at three dollars +and a half a hundred pounds. The three of us working with a team +could produce from one hundred and twenty to one hundred and forty +pounds a week. Yet we thought it paid—there in Lickitysplit. +All over the hills men and women were turning their efforts and +strength into these slender streams of money forever flowing toward +the mortgagee.</p> +<p>Mr. Dunkelberg had seen Benjamin Grimshaw and got him to give us +a brief extension. They had let me stay out of school to work. I +was nearly thirteen years old and rather strong and capable. I +think that I got along in my books about as well as I could have +done in our little school.</p> +<p>One day in December of that year, I had my first trial in the +full responsibility of man's work. I was allowed to load and +harness and hitch up and go to mill without assistance. My uncle +and Purvis were busy with the chopping and we were out of flour and +meal. It took a lot of them to keep the axes going. So I filled two +sacks with corn and two with wheat and put them into the box wagon, +for the ground was bare, and hitched up my horses and set out. Aunt +Deel took a careful look at the main hitches and gave me many a +caution before I drove away. She said it was a shame that I had to +be "Grimshawed" into a man's work at my age. But I was elated by my +feeling of responsibility. I knew how to handle horses and had +driven at the drag and plow and once, alone, to the post-office, +but this was my first long trip without company. I had taken my ax +and a chain, for one found a tree in the road now and then those +days, and had to trim and cut and haul it aside. It was a drive of +six miles to the nearest mill, over a bad road. I sat on two +cleated boards placed across the box, with a blanket over me and my +new overcoat and mittens on, and was very comfortable and +happy.</p> +<p>I had taken a little of my uncle's chewing tobacco out of its +paper that lay on a shelf in the cellarway, for I had observed that +my uncle generally chewed when he was riding. I tried a little of +it and was very sick for a few minutes.</p> +<p>Having recovered, I sang all the songs I knew, which were not +many, and repeated the names of the presidents and divided the +world into its parts and recited the principal rivers with all the +sources and emptyings of the latter and the boundaries of the +states and the names and locations of their capitals. It amused me +in the midst of my loneliness to keep my tongue busy and I +exhausted all my knowledge, which included a number of declamations +from the speeches of Otis, Henry and Webster, in the effort. Before +the journey was half over I had taken a complete inventory of my +mental effects. I repeat that it was amusement—of the only +kind available—and not work to me.</p> +<p>I reached the mill safely and before the grain was ground the +earth and the sky above it were white with snow driving down in a +cold, stiff wind out of the northwest. I loaded my grists and +covered them with a blanket and hurried away. The snow came so fast +that it almost blinded me. There were times when I could scarcely +see the road or the horses. The wind came colder and soon it was +hard work to hold the reins and keep my hands from freezing.</p> +<p>Suddenly the wheels began jumping over rocks. The horses were in +the ditch. I knew what was the matter, for my eyes had been filling +with snow and I had had to brush them often. Of course the team had +suffered in a like manner. Before I could stop I heard the crack of +a felly and a front wheel dropped to its hub. I checked the horses +and jumped out and went to their heads and cleared their eyes. The +snow was up to my knees then.</p> +<p>It seemed as if all the clouds in the sky were falling to the +ground and stacking into a great, fleecy cover as dry as chaff.</p> +<p>We were there where the road drops into a rocky hollow near the +edge of Butterfield's woods. They used to call it Moosewood Hill +because of the abundance of moosewood around the foot of it. How +the thought of that broken wheel smote me! It was our only heavy +wagon, and we having to pay the mortgage. What would my uncle say? +The query brought tears to my eyes.</p> +<p>I unhitched and led my horses up into the cover of the pines. +How grateful it seemed, for the wind was slack below but howling in +the tree-tops! I knew that I was four miles from home and knew, not +how I was to get there. Chilled to the bone, I gathered some pitch +pine and soon had a fire going with my flint and tinder. I knew +that I could mount one of the horses and lead the other and reach +home probably. But there was the grist. We needed that; I knew that +we should have to go hungry without the grist. It would get wet +from above and below if I tried to carry it on the back of a horse. +I warmed myself by the fire and hitched my team near it so as to +thaw the frost out of their forelocks and eyebrows. I felt in my +coat pockets and found a handful of nails—everybody carried +nails in one pocket those days—and I remember that my uncle's +pockets were a museum of bolts and nuts and screws and washers.</p> +<p>The idea occurred to me that I would make a kind of sled which +was called a jumper.</p> +<p>So I got my ax out of the wagon and soon found a couple of small +trees with the right crook for the forward end of a runner and cut +them and hewed their bottoms as smoothly as I could. Then I made +notches in them near the top of their crooks and fitted a stout +stick into the notches and secured it with nails driven by the +ax-head. Thus I got a hold for my evener. That done, I chopped and +hewed an arch to cross the middle of the runners and hold them +apart and used all my nails to secure and brace it. I got the two +boards which were fastened together and constituted my wagon seat +and laid them over the arch and front brace. How to make them fast +was my worst problem. I succeeded in splitting a green stick to +hold the bolt of the evener just under its head while I heated its +lower end in the fire and kept its head cool with snow. With this I +burnt a hole in the end of each board and fastened them to the +front brace with withes of moosewood.</p> +<p>It was late in the day and there was no time for the slow +process of burning more holes, so I notched the other ends of the +boards and lashed them to the rear brace with a length of my reins. +Then I retempered my bolt and brought up the grist and chain and +fastened the latter between the boards in the middle of the front +brace, hitched my team to the chain and set out again, sitting on +the bags.</p> +<p>It was, of course, a difficult journey, for my jumper was +narrow. The snow heaped up beneath me and now and then I and my +load were rolled off the jumper. When the drifts were more than leg +deep I let down the fence and got around them by going into the +fields. Often I stopped to clear the eyes of the horses—a +slow task to be done with the bare hand—or to fling my palms +against my shoulders and thus warm myself a little.</p> +<p>It was pitch dark and the horses wading to their bellies and the +snow coming faster when we turned into Rattleroad. I should not +have known the turn when we came to it, but a horse knows more than +a man in the dark. Soon I heard a loud halloo and knew that it was +the voice of Uncle Peabody. He had started out to meet me in the +storm and Shep was with him.</p> +<p>"Thank God I've found ye!" he shouted. "I'm blind and tired out +and I couldn't keep a lantern goin' to save me. Are ye froze?"</p> +<p>"I'm all right, but these horses are awful tired. Had to let 'em +rest every few minutes."</p> +<p>I told him about the wagon—and how it relieved me to hear +him say:</p> +<p>"As long as you're all right, boy, I ain't goin' to worry 'bout +the ol' wagon—not a bit. Where'd ye git yer jumper?"</p> +<p>"Made it with the ax and some nails," I answered.</p> +<p>I didn't hear what he said about it for the horses were +wallowing and we had to stop and paw and kick the snow from beneath +them as best we could before it was possible to back out of our +trouble. Soon we found an entrance to the fields—our own +fields not far from the house—where Uncle Peabody walked +ahead and picked out the best wading. After we got to the barn door +at last he went to the house and lighted his lantern and came back +with it wrapped in a blanket and Aunt Deel came with him.</p> +<p>How proud it made me to hear him say:</p> +<p>"Deel, our boy is a man now—made this jumper all 'lone by +himself an' has got through all right."</p> +<p>She came and held the lantern up to my face and looked at my +hands.</p> +<p>"Well, my stars, Bart!" she exclaimed in a moment. "I thought ye +would freeze up solid—ayes—poor boy!"</p> +<p>The point of my chin and the lobes of my ears and one finger +were touched and my aunt rubbed them with snow until the frost was +out.</p> +<p>We carried the grist in and Aunt Deel made some pudding. How +good it was to feel the warmth of the fire and of the hearts of +those who loved me! How I enjoyed the pudding and milk and bread +and butter!</p> +<p>"I guess you've gone through the second peril that ol' Kate +spoke of," said Aunt Deel as I went up-stairs.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody went out to look at the horses.</p> +<p>When I awoke in the morning I observed that Uncle Peabody's bed +had not been slept in. I hurried down and heard that our off-horse +had died in the night of colic. Aunt Deel was crying. As he saw me +Uncle Peabody began to dance a jig in the middle of the floor.</p> +<p>"Balance yer partners!" he shouted. "You an' I ain't goin' to be +discouraged if all the hosses die—be we, Bart?"</p> +<p>"Never," I answered.</p> +<p>"That's the talk! If nec'sary we'll hitch Purvis up with t'other +hoss an' git our haulin' done."</p> +<p>He and Purvis roared with laughter and the strength of the +current swept me along with them.</p> +<p>"We're the luckiest folks in the world, anyway," Uncle Peabody +went on. "Bart's alive an' there's three feet o' snow on the level +an' more comin' an' it's colder'n Greenland."</p> +<p>It was such a bitter day that we worked only three hours and +came back to the house and played Old Sledge by the fireside.</p> +<p>Rodney Barnes came over that afternoon and said that he would +lend us a horse for the hauling.</p> +<p>When we went to bed that night Uncle Peabody whispered:</p> +<p>"Say, ol' feller, we was in purty bad shape this mornin'. If we +hadn't 'a' backed up sudden an' took a new holt I guess Aunt Deel +would 'a' caved in complete an' we'd all been a-bellerin' like a +lot o' lost cattle."</p> +<p>We had good sleighing after that and got our bark and salts to +market and earned ninety-eight dollars. But while we got our pay in +paper "bank money," we had to pay our debts in wheat, salts or +corn, so that our earnings really amounted to only sixty-two and a +half dollars, my uncle said. This more than paid our interest. We +gave the balance and ten bushels of wheat to Mr. Grimshaw for a +spavined horse, after which he agreed to give us at least a year's +extension on the principal.</p> +<p>We felt easy then.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>MY THIRD PERIL</h3> +<p>"Mr. Purvis" took his pay in salts and stayed with us until my +first great adventure cut him off. It came one July day when I was +in my sixteenth year. He behaved badly, and I as any normal boy +would have done who had had my schooling in the candle-light. We +had kept Grimshaw from our door by paying interest and the sum of +eighty dollars on the principal. It had been hard work to live +comfortably and carry the burden of debt. Again Grimshaw had begun +to press us. My uncle wanted to get his paper and learn, if +possible, when the Senator was expected in Canton.</p> +<p>So he gave me permission to ride with Purvis to the +post-office—a distance of three miles—to get the mail. +Purvis rode in our only saddle and I bareback, on a handsome white +filly which my uncle had given me soon after she was foaled. I had +fed and petted and broken and groomed her and she had grown so fond +of me that my whistled call would bring her galloping to my side +from the remotest reaches of the pasture. A chunk of sugar or an +ear of corn or a pleasant grooming always rewarded her fidelity. +She loved to have me wash her legs and braid her mane and rub her +coat until it glowed, and she carried herself proudly when I was on +her back. I had named her Sally because that was the only name +which seemed to express my fondness.</p> +<p>"Mr. Purvis" was not an experienced rider. My filly led him at a +swift gallop over the hills and I heard many a muttered complaint +behind me, but she liked a free head when we took the road together +and I let her have her way.</p> +<p>Coming back we fell in with another rider who had been resting +at Seaver's little tavern through the heat of the day. He was a +traveler on his way to Canton and had missed the right trail and +wandered far afield. He had a big military saddle with bags and +shiny brass trimmings and a pistol in a holster, all of which +appealed to my eye and interest. The filly was a little tired and +the stranger and I were riding abreast at a walk while Purvis +trailed behind us. The sun had set and as we turned the top of a +long hill the dusk was lighted with a rich, golden glow on the +horizon far below us.</p> +<p>We heard a quick stir in the bushes by the roadside.</p> +<p>"What's that?" Purvis demanded in a half-whisper of excitement. +We stopped.</p> +<p>Then promptly a voice—a voice which I did not +recognize—broke the silence with these menacing words sharply +spoken:</p> +<p>"Your money or your life!"</p> +<p>"Mr. Purvis" whirled his horse and lashed him up the hill. +Things happened quickly in the next second or two. Glancing +backward I saw him lose a stirrup and fall and pick himself up and +run as if his life depended on it. I saw the stranger draw his +pistol. A gun went off in the edge of the bushes close by. The +flash of fire from its muzzle leaped at the stranger. The horses +reared and plunged and mine threw me in a clump of small poppies by +the roadside and dashed down the hill. All this had broken into the +peace of a summer evening on a lonely road and the time in which it +had happened could be measured, probably, by ten ticks of the +watch.</p> +<p>My fall on the stony siding had stunned me and I lay for three +or four seconds, as nearly as I can estimate it, in a strange and +peaceful dream. Why did I dream of Amos Grimshaw coming to visit +me, again, and why, above all, should it have seemed to me that +enough things were said and done in that little flash of a dream to +fill a whole day—enough of talk and play and going and +coming, the whole ending with a talk on the haymow. Again and again +I have wondered about that dream. I came to and lifted my head and +my consciousness swung back upon the track of memory and took up +the thread of the day, the briefest remove from where it had +broken.</p> +<p>I peered through the bushes. The light was unchanged. I could +see quite clearly. The horses were gone. It was very still. The +stranger lay helpless in the road and a figure was bending over +him. It was a man with a handkerchief hanging over his face with +holes cut opposite his eyes. He had not seen my fall and thought, +as I learned later, that I had ridden away.</p> +<p>His gun lay beside him, its stock toward me. I observed that a +piece of wood had been split off the lower side of the stock. I +jumped to my feet and seized a stone to hurl at him. As I did so +the robber fled with gun in hand. If the gun had been loaded I +suppose that this little history would never have been written. +Quickly I hurled the stone at the robber. I remember it was a +smallish stone about the size of a hen's egg. I saw it graze the +side of his head. I saw his hand touch the place which the stone +had grazed. He reeled and nearly fell and recovered himself and ran +on, but the little stone had put the mark of Cain upon him.</p> +<p>The stranger lay still in the road. I lifted his head and +dropped it quickly with a strange sickness. The feel of it and the +way it fell back upon the ground when I let go scared me, for I +knew that he was dead. The dust around him was wet. I ran down the +hill a few steps and stopped and whistled to my filly. I could hear +her answering whinny far down the dusty road and then her hoofs as +she galloped toward me. She came within a few feet of me and stood +snorting. I caught and mounted her and rode to the nearest house +for help. On the way I saw why she had stopped. A number of horses +were feeding on the roadside near the log house where Andrew +Crampton lived. Andrew had just unloaded some hay and was backing +out of his barn. I hitched my filly and jumped on the rack +saying:</p> +<p>"Drive up the road as quick as you can. A man has been +murdered."</p> +<p>What a fearful word it was that I had spoken! What a panic it +made in the little dooryard! The man gasped and jerked the reins +and shouted to his horses and began swearing. The woman uttered a +little scream and the children ran crying to her side. Now for the +first time I felt the dread significance of word and deed. I had +had no time to think of it before. I thought of the robber fleeing, +terror-stricken, in the growing darkness.</p> +<p>The physical facts which are further related to this tragedy are +of little moment to me now. The stranger was dead and we took his +body to our home and my uncle set out for the constable. Over and +over again that night I told the story of the shooting. We went to +the scene of the tragedy with lanterns and fenced it off and put +some men on guard there.</p> +<p>How the event itself and all that hurrying about in the dark had +shocked and excited me! The whole theater of life had changed. Its +audience had suddenly enlarged and was rushing over the stage and a +kind of terror was in every face and voice. There was a red-handed +villain behind the scenes, now, and how many others, I wondered. +Men were no longer as they had been. Even the God to whom I prayed +was different. As I write the sounds and shadows of that night are +in my soul again. I see its gathering gloom. I hear its rifle shot +which started all the galloping hoofs and swinging lanterns and +flitting shadows and hysterical profanity. In the morning they +found the robber's footprints in the damp dirt of the road and +measured them. The whole countryside was afire with excitement and +searching the woods and fields for the highwayman.</p> +<p>"Mr. Purvis," who had lost confidence suddenly in the whole +world, had been found, soon after daylight next morning, under a +haycock in the field of a farmer who was getting in his hay. Our +hired man rose up and reported in fearful tones. A band of +robbers—not one, or two, even, but a band of them—had +chased him up the road and one of their bullets had torn the side +of his trousers, in support of which assertion he showed the tear. +With his able assistance we see at a glance both the quality and +the state of mind prevailing among the humbler citizens of the +countryside. They were, in a way, children whose cows had never +recovered from the habit of jumping over the moon and who still +worshiped at the secret shrine of Jack the Giant Killer.</p> +<p>The stranger was buried. There was nothing upon him to indicate +his name or residence. Weeks passed with no news of the man who had +slain him. I had told of the gun with a piece of wood broken out of +its stock, but no one knew of any such weapon in or near +Lickitysplit.</p> +<p>One day Uncle Peabody and I drove up to Grimshaw's to make a +payment of money. I remember it was gold and silver which we +carried in a little sack. I asked where Amos was and Mrs. +Grimshaw—a timid, tired-looking, bony little woman who was +never seen outside of her own house—said that he was working +out on the farm of a Mr. Beekman near Plattsburg. He had gone over +on the stage late in June to hire out for the haying. I observed +that my uncle looked very thoughtful as we rode back home and had +little to say.</p> +<p>"You never had any idee who that robber was, did ye?" he asked +by and by.</p> +<p>"No—I could not see plain—it was so dusk," I +said.</p> +<p>"I think Purvis lied about the gang that chased him," he said. +"Mebbe he thought they was after him. In my opinion he was so +scairt he couldn't 'a' told a hennock from a handsaw anyway. I +think it was just one man that did that job."</p> +<p>How well I remember the long silence that followed and the +distant voices that flashed across it now and then—the call +of the mire drum in the marshes and the songs of the winter wren +and the swamp robin. It was a solemn silence.</p> +<p>The swift words, "Your money or your life," came out of my +memory and rang in it. I felt its likeness to the scolding demands +of Mr. Grimshaw, who was forever saying in effect:</p> +<p>"Your money or your home!"</p> +<p>That was like demanding our lives because we couldn't live +without our home. Our all was in it. Mr. Grimshaw's gun was the +power he had over us, and what a terrible weapon it was! I credit +him with never realizing how terrible.</p> +<p>We came to the sand-hills and then Uncle Peabody broke the +silence by saying:</p> +<p>"I wouldn't give fifty cents for as much o' this land as a bird +could fly around in a day."</p> +<p>Then for a long time I heard only the sound of feet and wheels +muffled in the sand, while my uncle sat looking thoughtfully at the +siding. When I spoke to him he seemed not to hear me.</p> +<p>Before we reached home I knew what was in his mind, but neither +dared to speak of it.</p> +<p>People came from Canton and all the neighboring villages to see +and talk with me and among them were the Dunkelbergs. Unfounded +tales of my bravery had gone abroad.</p> +<p>Sally seemed to be very glad to see me. We walked down to the +brook and up into the maple grove and back through the meadows.</p> +<p>The beauty of that perfect day was upon her. I remember that her +dress was like the color of its fire-weed blossoms and that the +blue of its sky was in her eyes and the yellow of its sunlight in +her hair and the red of its clover in her cheeks. I remember how +the August breezes played with her hair, flinging its golden +curving strands about her neck and shoulders so that it touched my +face, now and then, as we walked! Somehow the rustle of her dress +started a strange vibration in my spirit. I put my arm around her +waist and she put her arm around mine as we ran along. A curious +feeling came over me. I stopped and loosed my arm.</p> +<p>"It's very warm!" I said as I picked a stalk of fire-weed.</p> +<p>What was there about the girl which so thrilled me with +happiness?</p> +<p>She turned away and felt the ribbon by which her hair was +gathered at the back of her head.</p> +<p>I wanted to kiss her as I had done years before, but I was +afraid.</p> +<p>She turned suddenly and said to me:</p> +<p>"A penny for your thoughts."</p> +<p>"You won't laugh at me?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"I was thinking how beautiful you are and how homely I am."</p> +<p>"You are not homely. I like your eyes and your teeth are as +white and even as they can be and you are a big, brave boy, +too."</p> +<p>Oh, the vanity of youth! I had never been so happy as then.</p> +<p>"I don't believe I'm brave," I said, blushing as we walked along +beside the wheat-fields that were just turning yellow. "I was +terribly scared that night—honest I was!"</p> +<p>"But you didn't run away."</p> +<p>"I didn't think of it or I guess I would have."</p> +<p>After a moment of silence I ventured:</p> +<p>"I guess you've never fallen in love."</p> +<p>"Yes, I have."</p> +<p>"Who with?"</p> +<p>"I don't think I dare tell you," she answered, slowly, looking +down as she walked.</p> +<p>"I'll tell you who I love if you wish," I said.</p> +<p>"Who?"</p> +<p>"You." I whispered the word and was afraid she would laugh at +me, but she didn't. She stopped and looked very serious and +asked:</p> +<p>"What makes you think you love me?"</p> +<p>"Well, when you go away I shall think an' think about you an' +feel as I do when the leaves an' the flowers are all gone an' I +know it's going to be winter, an' I guess next Sunday Shep an' I +will go down to the brook an' come back through the meadow, an' +I'll kind o' think it all over—what you said an' what I said +an' how warm the sun shone an' how purty the wheat looked, an' I +guess I'll hear that little bird singing."</p> +<p>We stopped and listened to the song of a bird—I do not +remember what bird it was—and then she whispered:</p> +<p>"Will you love me always and forever?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered in the careless way of youth.</p> +<p>She stopped and looked into my eyes and I looked into hers.</p> +<p>"May I kiss you?" I asked, and afraid, with cheeks burning.</p> +<p>She turned away and answered: "I guess you can if you want +to."</p> +<p>Now I seem to be in Aladdin's tower and to see her standing so +red and graceful and innocent in the sunlight, and that strange +fire kindled by our kisses warms my blood again.</p> +<p>It was still play, although not like that of the grand ladies +and the noble gentlemen in which we had once indulged, but still it +was play—the sweetest and dearest kind of play which the +young may enjoy, and possibly, also, the most dangerous.</p> +<p>She held my hand very tightly as we went on and I told her of my +purpose to be a great man.</p> +<p>My mind was in a singular condition of simplicity those days. It +was due to the fact that I had had no confidant in school and had +been brought up in a home where there was neither father nor mother +nor brother.</p> +<p>That night I heard a whispered conference below after I had gone +up-stairs. I knew that something was coming and wondered what it +might be. Soon Uncle Peabody came up to our little room looking +highly serious. He sat down on the side of his bed with his hands +clasped firmly under one knee, raising his foot below it well above +the floor. He reminded me of one carefully holding taut reins on a +horse of a bad reputation. I sat, half undressed and rather +fearful, looking into his face. As I think of the immaculate soul +of the boy, I feel a touch of pathos in that scene. I think that he +felt it, for I remember that his whisper trembled a little as he +began to tell me why men are strong and women are beautiful and +given to men in marriage.</p> +<p>"You'll be falling in love one o' these days," he said. "It's +natural ye should. You remember Rovin' Kate?" he asked by and +by.</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered.</p> +<p>"Some day when you're a little older I'll tell ye her story an' +you'll see what happens when men an' women break the law o' God. +Here's Mr. Wright's letter. Aunt Deel asked me to give it to you to +keep. You're old enough now an' you'll be goin' away to school +before long, I guess."</p> +<p>I took the letter and read again the superscription on its +envelope:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>To Master Barton Baynes—<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">(To be opened when he leaves home +to</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3em;">go to school.)</span></p></div> +<p>I put it away in the pine box with leather hinges on its cover +which Uncle Peabody had made for me and wondered again what it was +all about, and again that night I broke camp and moved further into +the world over the silent trails of knowledge.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody went away for a few days after the harvesting. He +had gone afoot, I knew not where. He returned one afternoon in a +buggy with the great Michael Hacket of the Canton Academy. Hacket +was a big, brawny, red-haired, kindly Irishman with a merry heart +and tongue, the latter having a touch of the brogue of the green +isle which he had never seen, for he had been born in Massachusetts +and had got his education in Harvard. He was then a man of +forty.</p> +<p>"You're coming to me this fall," he said as he put his hand on +my arm and gave me a little shake. "Lad! you've got a big pair of +shoulders! Ye shall live in my house an' help with the chores if ye +wish to."</p> +<p>"That'll be grand," said Uncle Peabody, but, as to myself, just +then, I knew not what to think of it.</p> +<p>We were picking up potatoes in the field.</p> +<p>"Without 'taters an' imitators this world would be a poor place +to live in," said Mr. Hacket. "Some imitate the wise—thank +God!—some the foolish—bad 'cess to the devil!"</p> +<p>As he spoke we heard a wonderful bird song in a tall spruce down +by the brook.</p> +<p>"Do ye hear the little silver bells in yon tower?" he asked.</p> +<p>As we listened a moment he whispered: "It's the song o' the +Hermit Thrush. I wonder, now, whom he imitates. I think the first +one o' them must 'a' come on Christmas night an' heard the angels +sing an' remembered a little o' it so he could give it to his +children an' keep it in the world."</p> +<p>I looked up into the man's face and liked him, and after that I +looked forward to the time when I should know him and his home.</p> +<p>Shep was rubbing his neck fondly on the schoolmaster's boot.</p> +<p>"That dog couldn't think more o' me if I were a bone," he said +as he went away.</p> +<h3>END OF BOOK ONE</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_TWO" id="BOOK_TWO"></a>BOOK TWO</h2> +<h3>Which is the Story of the Principal Witness</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>IN WHICH I MEET OTHER GREAT MEN</h3> +<p>It was a sunny day in late September on which Aunt Deel and +Uncle Peabody took me and my little pine chest with all my +treasures in it to the village where I was to go to school and live +with the family of Mr. Michael Hacket, the schoolmaster. I was +proud of the chest, now equipped with iron hinges and a hasp and +staple. Aunt Deel had worked hard to get me ready, sitting late at +her loom to weave cloth for my new suit, which a traveling tailor +had fitted and made for me. I remember that the breeches were of +tow and that they scratched my legs and made me very uncomfortable, +but I did not complain. My uncle used to say that nobody with tow +breeches on him could ride a horse without being thrown—they +pricked so.</p> +<p>The suit which I had grown into—"the Potsdam clothes," we +called them often, but more often "the boughten clothes"—had +been grown out of and left behind in a way of speaking. I had an +extra good-looking pair of cowhide boots, as we all agreed, which +John Wells, the cobbler, had made for me. True, I had my doubts +about them, but we could afford no better.</p> +<p>When the chest was about full, I remember that my aunt brought +something wrapped in a sheet of the <i>St. Lawrence Republican</i> +and put it into my hands.</p> +<p>"There are two dozen cookies an' some dried meat," said she. +"Ayes, I thought mebbe you'd like 'em—if you was hungry some +time between meals. Wait a minute."</p> +<p>She went to her room and Uncle Peabody and I waited before we +shut the hasp with a wooden peg driven into its staple.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel returned promptly with the Indian Book in her +hands.</p> +<p>"There," said she, "you might as well have +it—ayes!—you're old enough now. You'll enjoy readin' it +sometimes in the evenin', mebbe—ayes! Please be awful careful +of it, Bart, for it was a present from my mother to me—ayes +it was!"</p> +<p>How tenderly she held and looked at the sacred heirloom so +carefully stitched into its cover of faded linen. It was her sole +legacy. Tears came to my eyes as I thought of her +generosity—greater, far greater than that which has brought +me gifts of silver and gold—although my curiosity regarding +the Indian Book had abated, largely, for I had taken many a sly +peek at it. Therein I had read how Captain Baynes—my great +grandfather—had been killed by the Indians.</p> +<p>I remember the sad excitement of that ride to the village and +all the words of advice and counsel spoken by my aunt.</p> +<p>"Don't go out after dark," said she. "I'm 'fraid some o' them +rowdies'll pitch on ye."</p> +<p>"If they do I guess they'll be kind o' surprised," said Uncle +Peabody.</p> +<p>"I don't want him to fight."</p> +<p>"If it's nec'sary, I believe in fightin' tooth an' nail," my +uncle maintained.</p> +<p>I remember looking in vain for Sally as we passed the +Dunkelbergs'. I remember my growing loneliness as the day wore on +and how Aunt Deel stood silently buttoning my coat with tears +rolling down her cheeks while I leaned back upon the gate in front +of the Hacket house, on Ashery Lane, trying to act like a man and +rather ashamed of my poor success. It reminded me of standing in +the half-bushel measure and trying in vain, as I had more than +once, to shoulder the big bag of corn. Uncle Peabody stood +surveying the sky in silence with his back toward us. He turned and +nervously blew out his breath. His lips trembled a little as he +said.</p> +<p>"I dunno but what it's goin' to rain."</p> +<p>I watched them as they walked to the tavern sheds, both looking +down at the ground and going rather unsteadily. Oh, the look of +that beloved pair as they walked away from me!—the look of +their leaning heads! Their silence and the sound of their footsteps +are, somehow, a part of the picture which has hung all these years +in my memory.</p> +<p>Suddenly I saw a man go reeling by in the middle of the road. +His feet swung. They did not rise and reach forward and touch the +ground according to the ancient habit of the human foot. They swung +sideways and rose high and each crossed the line of his flight a +little, as one might say, when it came to the ground, for the man's +movements reminded me of the aimless flight of a sporting swallow. +He zig-zagged from one side of the street to the other. He caught +my eye just in time and saved me from breaking down. I watched him +until he swung around a corner. Only once before had I seen a man +drunk and walking, although I had seen certain of our neighbors +riding home drunk—so drunk that I thought their horses were +ashamed of them, being always steaming hot and in a great +hurry.</p> +<p>Sally Dunkelberg and her mother came along and said that they +were glad I had come to school. I could not talk to them and seeing +my trouble, they went on, Sally waving her hand to me as they +turned the corner below. I felt ashamed of myself. Suddenly I heard +the door open behind me and the voice of Mr. Hacket:</p> +<p>"Bart," he called, "I've a friend here who has something to say +to you. Come in."</p> +<p>I turned and went into the house.</p> +<p>"Away with sadness—laddie buck!" he exclaimed as he took +his violin from its case while I sat wiping my eyes. "Away with +sadness! She often raps at my door, and while I try not to be rude, +I always pretend to be very busy. Just a light word o' recognition +by way o' common politeness! Then laugh, if ye can an' do it +quickly, lad, an' she will pass on."</p> +<p>The last words were spoken in a whisper, with one hand on my +breast.</p> +<p>He tuned the strings and played the <i>Fisher's Hornpipe</i>. +What a romp of merry music filled the house! I had never heard the +like and was soon smiling at him as he played. His bow and fingers +flew in the wild frolic of the Devil's Dream. It led me out of my +sadness into a world all new to me.</p> +<p>"Now, God bless your soul, boy!" he exclaimed, by and by, as he +put down his instrument. "We shall have a good time +together—that we will. Not a stroke o' work this day! Come, I +have a guide here that will take us down to the land o' the +fairies."</p> +<p>Then with his microscope he showed me into the wonder world of +littleness of which I had had no knowledge.</p> +<p>"The microscope is like the art o' the teacher," he said. "I've +known a good teacher to take a brain no bigger than a fly's foot +an' make it visible to the naked eye."</p> +<p>One of the children, of which there were four in the Hacket +home, called us to supper. Mrs. Hacket, a stout woman with a red +and kindly face, sat at one end of the table, and between them were +the children—Mary, a pretty daughter of seventeen years; +Maggie, a six-year-old; Ruth, a delicate girl of seven, and John, a +noisy, red-faced boy of five. The chairs were of plain +wood—like the kitchen chairs of to-day. In the middle of the +table was an empty one—painted green. Before he sat down Mr. +Hacket put his hand on the back of this chair and said:</p> +<p>"A merry heart to you, Michael Henry."</p> +<p>I wondered at the meaning of this, but dared not to ask. The +oldest daughter acted as a kind of moderator with the others.</p> +<p>"Mary is the constable of this house, with power to arrest and +hale into court for undue haste or rebellion or impoliteness," Mr. +Hacket explained.</p> +<p>"I believe that Sally Dunkelberg is your friend," he said to me +presently.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered.</p> +<p>"A fine slip of a girl that and a born scholar. I saw you look +at her as the Persian looks at the rising sun."</p> +<p>I blushed and Mary and her mother and the boy John looked at me +and laughed.</p> +<p>"<i>Puer pulcherrime!</i>" Mr. Hacket exclaimed with a kindly +smile.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody would have called it a "stout snag." The +schoolmaster had hauled it out of his brain very deftly and chucked +it down before me in a kind of challenge.</p> +<p>"What does that mean?" I asked.</p> +<p>"You shall know in a week, my son," he answered. "I shall put +you into the Latin class Wednesday morning, and God help you to +like it as well as you like Sally."</p> +<p>Again they laughed and again I blushed.</p> +<p>"Hold up yer head, my brave lad," he went on. "Ye've a perfect +right to like Sally if ye've a heart to."</p> +<p>He sang a rollicking ballad of which I remember only the +refrain:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p><i>A lad in his teens will never know beans if he hasn't an eye +for the girls</i>.</p> +</div> +<p>It was a merry supper, and when it ended Mr. Hacket rose and +took the green chair from the table, exclaiming:</p> +<p>"Michael Henry, God bless you!"</p> +<p>Then he kissed his wife and said:</p> +<p>"Maggie, you wild rose of Erin! I've been all day in the study. +I must take a walk or I shall get an exalted abdomen. One is badly +beaten in the race o' life when his abdomen gets ahead of his toes. +Children, keep our young friend happy here until I come back, and +mind you, don't forget the good fellow in the green chair."</p> +<p>Mary helped her mother with the dishes, while I sat with a book +by the fireside. Soon Mrs. Hacket and the children came and sat +down with me.</p> +<p>"Let's play backgammon," Mary proposed.</p> +<p>"I don't want to," said John.</p> +<p>"Don't forget Michael Henry," she reminded.</p> +<p>"Who is Michael Henry?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Sure, he's the boy that has never been born," said Mrs. Hacket. +"He was to be the biggest and noblest one o' them—kind an' +helpful an' cheery hearted an' beloved o' God above all the others. +We try to live up to him."</p> +<p>He seemed to me a very strange and wonderful creature—this +invisible occupant of the green chair.</p> +<p>I know now what I knew not then that Michael Henry was the +spirit of their home—an ideal of which the empty green chair +was a constant reminder.</p> +<p>We played backgammon and Old Maid and Everlasting until Mr. +Hacket returned.</p> +<p>He sat down and read aloud from the <i>Letters of an +Englishwoman in America</i>.</p> +<p>"Do you want to know what sleighing is?" she wrote. "Set your +chair out on the porch on a Christmas day. Put your feet in a +pail-full of powdered ice. Have somebody jingle a bell in one ear +and blow into the other with a bellows and you will have an exact +idea of it."</p> +<p>When she told of a lady who had been horned by a large insect +known as a snapdragon, he laughed loudly and closed the book and +said:</p> +<p>"They have found a new peril of American life. It is the gory +horn of the snapdragon. Added to our genius for boastfulness and +impiety, it is a crowning defect. Ye would think that our chief aim +was the cuspidor. Showers of expectoration and thunder claps o' +profanity and braggart gales o' Yankee dialect!—that's the +moral weather report that she sends back to England. We have faults +enough, God knows, but we have something else away beneath them an' +none o' these writers has discovered it."</p> +<p>The sealed envelope which Mr. Wright had left at our home, a +long time before that day, was in my pocket. At last the hour had +come when. I could open it and read the message of which I had +thought much and with a growing interest.</p> +<p>I rose and said that I should like to go to my room. Mr. Hacket +lighted a candle and took me up-stairs to a little room where my +chest had been deposited. There were, in the room, a bed, a chair, +a portrait of Napoleon Bonaparte and a small table on which were a +dictionary, a Bible and a number of school books.</p> +<p>"These were Mary's books," said Mr. Hacket. "I told yer uncle +that ye could use them an' welcome. There's another book here which +ye may study if ye think it worth the bother. It's a worn an' +tiresome book, my lad, but I pray God ye may find no harm in it. +Use it as often as ye will. It is the book o' my heart. Ye will +find in it some kind o' answer to every query in the endless flight +o' them that's coming on, an' may the good God help us to the +truth."</p> +<p>He turned and bade me good night and went away and closed the +door.</p> +<p>I sat down and opened the sealed envelope with trembling hands, +and found in it this brief note:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR PARTNER: I want you to ask the wisest man you know to +explain these words to you. I suggest that you commit them to +memory and think often of their meaning. They are from Job:</p> +<p>"'His bones are full of the sin of his youth, which shall lie +down with him in the dust.'</p> +<p>"I believe that they are the most impressive in all the +literature I have read.</p> +<p>"Yours truly,<br /> +SILAS WRIGHT, JR."</p> +</div> +<p>I read the words over and over again, but knew not their +meaning. Sadly and slowly I got ready for bed. I missed the +shingles and the familiar rustle of the popple leaves above my head +and the brooding silence of the hills. The noises of the village +challenged my ear after I had put out my candle. There were many +barking dogs. Some horsemen passed, with a creaking of saddle +leather, followed by a wagon. Soon I heard running feet and eager +voices. I rose and looked out of the open window. Men were hurrying +down the street with lanterns.</p> +<p>"He's the son o' Ben Grimshaw," I heard one of them saying. +"They caught him back in the south woods yesterday. The sheriff +said that he tried to run away when he saw 'em coming."</p> +<p>What was the meaning of this? What had Amos Grimshaw been doing? +I trembled as I got back into bed—I can not even now explain +why, but long ago I gave up trying to fathom the depths of the +human spirit with an infinite sea beneath it crossed by subtle +tides and currents. We see only the straws on the surface.</p> +<p>I was up at daylight and Mr. Hacket came to my door while I was +dressing.</p> +<p>"A merry day to you!" he exclaimed. "I'll await you below and +introduce you to the humble herds and flocks of a +schoolmaster."</p> +<p>I went with him while he fed his chickens and two small shoats. +I milked the cow for him, and together we drove her back to the +pasture. Then we split some wood and filled the boxes by the +fireplace and the kitchen stove and raked up the leaves in the +dooryard and wheeled them away.</p> +<p>"Now you know the duties o' your office," said the schoolmaster +as we went in to breakfast.</p> +<p>We sat down at the table with the family and I drew out my +letter from the Senator and gave it to Mr. Hacket to read.</p> +<p>"The Senator! God prosper him! I hear that he came on the +Plattsburg stage last night," he said as he began the +reading—an announcement which caused me and the children to +clap our hands with joy.</p> +<p>Mr. Hacket thoughtfully repeated the words from Job with a most +impressive intonation.</p> +<p>He passed the letter back to me and said:</p> +<p>"All true! I have seen it sinking into the bones o' the young +and I have seen it lying down with the aged in the dust o' their +graves. It is a big book—the one we are now opening. God help +us! It has more pages than all the days o' your life. Just think o' +your body, O brave and tender youth! It is like a sponge. How it +takes things in an' holds 'em an' feeds upon 'em! A part o' every +apple ye eat sinks down into yer blood an' bones. Ye can't get it +out. It's the same way with the books ye read an' the thoughts ye +enjoy. They go down into yer bones an' ye can't get 'em out. That's +why I like to think o' Michael Henry. His food is good thoughts and +his wine is laughter. I had a long visit with M.H. last night when +ye were all abed. His face was a chunk o' laughter. Oh, what a limb +he is! I wish I could tell ye all the good things he said."</p> +<p>"There comes Colonel Hand," said Mrs. Hacket as she looked out +of the window. "The poor lonely Whig! He has nothing to do these +days but sit around the tavern."</p> +<p>"Ye might as well pity a goose for going bare-footed," the +schoolmaster remarked.</p> +<p>In the midst of our laughter Colonel Hand rapped at the door and +Mr. Hacket admitted him.</p> +<p>"I tell you the country is going to the dogs," I heard the +Colonel saying as he came into the house.</p> +<p>"You inhuman Hand!" said the schoolmaster. "I should think you +would be tired of trying to crush that old indestructible +worm."</p> +<p>Colonel Hand was a surly looking man beyond middle age with +large eyes that showed signs of dissipation. He had a small dark +tuft beneath his lower lip and thin, black, untidy hair.</p> +<p>"What do ye think has happened?" he asked as he looked down upon +us with a majestic movement of his hand.</p> +<p>He stood with a stern face, like an orator, and seemed to enjoy +our suspense.</p> +<p>"What do you think has happened?" he repeated.</p> +<p>"God knows! It may be that Bill Harriman has swapped horses +again or that somebody has been talked to death by old Granny +Barnes—which is it?" asked the schoolmaster.</p> +<p>"It is neither, sir," Colonel Hand answered sternly. "The son o' +that old Buck-tail, Ben Grimshaw, has been arrested and brought to +jail for murder."</p> +<p>"For murder?" asked Mr. and Mrs. Hacket in one breath.</p> +<p>"For bloody murder, sir," the Colonel went on. "It was the +shooting of that man in the town o' Ballybeen a few weeks ago. +Things have come to a pretty pass in this country, I should say. +Talk about law and order, we don't know what it means here and why +should we? The party in power is avowedly opposed to it—yes, +sir. It has fattened upon bribery and corruption. Do you think that +the son o' Ben Grimshaw will receive his punishment even if he is +proved guilty? Not at all. He will be protected—you mark my +words."</p> +<p>He bowed and left us. When the door had closed behind him Mr. +Hacket said:</p> +<p>"Another victim horned by the Snapdragon! If a man were to be +slain by a bear back in the woods Colonel Hand would look for guilt +in the Democratic party. He will have a busy day and people will +receive him as the ghost of Creusa received the embraces of +Æneas—unheeding. Michael Henry, whatever the truth may +be regarding the poor boy in jail, we are in no way responsible. +Away with sadness! What is that?"</p> +<p>Mr. Hacket inclined his ear and then added: "Michael Henry says +that he may be innocent and that we had better go and see if we can +help him. Now I hadn't thought o' that. Had you, Mary?"</p> +<p>"No," the girl answered.</p> +<p>"We mustn't be letting Mike get ahead of us always," said her +father.</p> +<p>The news brought by the Colonel had shocked me and my thoughts +had been very busy since his announcement. I had thought of the +book which I had seen Amos reading in the haymow. Had its contents +sunk into his bones?—for I couldn't help thinking of all that +Mr. Hacket had just said about books and thoughts. My brain had +gone back over the events of that tragic moment—the fall, the +swift dream, the look of the robber in the dim light, the hurling +of the stone. The man who fled was about the size of Amos, but I +had never thought of the latter as the guilty man.</p> +<p>"You saw the crime, I believe," said Mr. Hacket as he turned to +me.</p> +<p>I told them all that I knew of it.</p> +<p>"Upon my word, I like you, my brave lad," said the schoolmaster. +"I heard of all this and decided that you would be a help to +Michael Henry and a creditable student. Come, let us go and pay our +compliments to the Senator. He rises betimes. If he stayed at the +tavern he will be out and up at his house by now."</p> +<p>The schoolmaster and I went over to Mr. Wright's house—a +white, frame building which had often been pointed out to me.</p> +<p>Mrs. Wright, a fine-looking lady who met us at the door, said +that the Senator had gone over to the mill with his +wheelbarrow.</p> +<p>Mr. Hacket asked for the time and she answered:</p> +<p>"It wants one minute of seven."</p> +<p>I quote her words to show how early the day began with us back +in those times.</p> +<p>"We've plenty of time and we'll wait for him," said the +schoolmaster.</p> +<p>"I see him!" said little John as he and Ruth ran to the gate and +down the rough plank walk to meet him.</p> +<p>We saw him coming a little way down the street in his +shirt-sleeves with his barrow in front of him. He stopped and +lifted little John in his arms, and after a moment put him down and +embraced Ruth.</p> +<p>"Well, I see ye still love the tender embrace o' the +wheelbarrow," said Mr. Hacket as we approached the Senator.</p> +<p>"My embrace is the tenderer of the two," the latter laughed with +a look at his hands.</p> +<p>He recognized me and seized my two hands and shook them as he +said:</p> +<p>"Upon my word, here is my friend Bart. I was not looking for you +here."</p> +<p>He put his hand on my head, now higher than his shoulder, and +said: "I was not looking for you <i>here</i>."</p> +<p>He moved his hand down some inches and added: "I was looking for +you down there. You can't tell where you'll find these youngsters +if you leave them a while."</p> +<p>"We are all forever moving," said the schoolmaster. "No man is +ever two days in the same altitude unless he's a Whig."</p> +<p>"Or a <i>born</i> fool," the Senator laughed with a subtlety +which I did not then appreciate.</p> +<p>He asked about my aunt and uncle and expressed joy at learning +that I was now under Mr. Hacket.</p> +<p>"I shall be here for a number of weeks," he said, "and I shall +want to see you often. Maybe we'll go hunting some Saturday."</p> +<p>We bade him good morning and he went on with his wheelbarrow, +which was loaded, I remember, with stout sacks of meal and +flour.</p> +<p>We went to the school at half past eight. What a thrilling place +it was with its seventy-eight children and its three rooms. How +noisy they were as they waited in the school yard for the bell to +ring! I stood by the door-side looking very foolish, I dare say, +for I knew not what to do with myself. My legs encased in the tow +breeches felt as if they were on fire. My timidity was increased by +the fact that many were observing me and that my appearance seemed +to inspire sundry, sly remarks. I saw that most of the village boys +wore boughten clothes and fine boots. I looked down at my own +leather and was a tower of shame on a foundation of greased +cowhide. Sally Dunkelberg came in with some other girls and +pretended not to see me. That was the hardest blow I suffered.</p> +<p>Among the handsome, well-dressed boys of the village was Henry +Wills—the boy who had stolen my watermelon. I had never +forgiven him for that or for the killing of my little hen. The bell +rang and we marched into the big room, while a fat girl with +crinkly hair played on a melodeon. Henry and another boy tried to +shove me out of line and a big paper wad struck the side of my head +as we were marching in and after we were seated a cross-eyed, +freckled girl in a red dress made a face at me.</p> +<p>It was, on the whole, the unhappiest day of my life. It reminded +me of Captain Cook's account of his first day with a barbaric tribe +on one of the South Sea islands. During recess I slapped a boy's +face for calling me a rabbit and the two others who came to help +him went away full of fear and astonishment, for I had the strength +of a young moose in me those days. After that they began to make +friends with me.</p> +<p>In the noon hour a man came to me in the school yard with a +subpoena for the examination of Amos Grimshaw and explained its +meaning. He also said that Bishop Perkins, the district attorney, +would call to see me that evening.</p> +<p>While I was talking with this man Sally passed me walking with +another girl and said:</p> +<p>"Hello, Bart!"</p> +<p>I observed that Henry Wills joined them and walked down the +street at the side of Sally. I got my first pang of jealousy +then.</p> +<p>When school was out that afternoon Mr. Hacket said I could have +an hour to see the sights of the village, so I set out, feeling +much depressed. My self-confidence had vanished. I was homesick and +felt terribly alone. I passed the jail and stopped and looked at +its grated windows and thought of Amos and wondered if he were +really a murderer.</p> +<p>I walked toward the house of Mr. Wright and saw him digging +potatoes in the garden and went in. I knew that he was my +friend.</p> +<p>"Well, Bart, how do you like school?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Not very well," I answered.</p> +<p>"Of course not! It's new to you now, and you miss your aunt and +uncle. Stick to it. You'll make friends and get interested before +long."</p> +<p>"I want to go home," I declared.</p> +<p>"Now let's look at the compass," he suggested. "You're lost for +a minute and, like all lost people, you're heading the wrong way. +Don't be misled by selfishness. Forget what you want to do and +think of what we want you to do. We want you to make a man of +yourself. You must do it for the sake of those dear people who have +done so much for you. The needle points toward the schoolhouse +yonder."</p> +<p>He went on with his work, and, as I walked away, I understood +that the needle he referred to was my conscience.</p> +<p>As I neared the schoolmaster's the same drunken man that I had +seen before went zigzagging up the road.</p> +<p>Mr. Hacket stood in his dooryard.</p> +<p>"Who is that?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Nick Tubbs—the village drunkard and sign o' the times," +he answered. "Does chores at the tavern all day and goes home at +night filled with his earnings an' a great sense o' proprietorship. +He is the top flower on the bush."</p> +<p>I went about my chores. There was to be no more wavering in my +conduct. At the supper table Mr. Hacket kept us laughing with songs +and jests and stories. The boy John, having been reproved for rapid +eating, hurled his spoon upon the floor.</p> +<p>"Those in favor of his punishment will please say aye?" said the +schoolmaster.</p> +<p>I remember that we had a divided house on that important +question.</p> +<p>The schoolmaster said: "Michael Henry wishes him to be forgiven +on promise of better conduct, but for the next offense he shall +ride the badger."</p> +<p>This meant lying for a painful moment across his father's +knee.</p> +<p>The promise was given and our merry-making resumed. The district +attorney, whom I had met before, came to see me after supper and +asked more questions and advised me to talk with no one about the +shooting without his consent. Soon he went away, and after I had +learned my lessons Mr. Hacket said:</p> +<p>"Let us walk up to the jail and spend a few minutes with +Amos."</p> +<p>We hurried to the jail. The sheriff, a stout-built, stern-faced +man, admitted us.</p> +<p>"Can we see the Grimshaw boy?" Mr. Hacket inquired.</p> +<p>"I guess so," he answered as he lazily rose from his chair and +took down a bunch of large keys which had been hanging on the wall. +"His father has just left."</p> +<p>He spoke in a low, solemn tone which impressed me deeply as he +put a lighted candle in the hand of the schoolmaster. He led us +through a door into a narrow corridor. He thrust a big key into the +lock of a heavy iron grating and threw it open and bade us step in. +We entered an ill-smelling, stone-floored room with a number of +cells against its rear wall. He locked the door behind us. I saw a +face and figure in the dim candle-light, behind the grated door of +one of these cells. How lonely and dejected and helpless was the +expression of that figure! The sheriff went to the door and +unlocked it.</p> +<p>"Hello, Grimshaw," he said sternly. "Step out here."</p> +<p>It all went to my heart—the manners of the sheriff so like +the cold iron of his keys and doors—the dim candle-light, the +pale, frightened youth who walked toward us. We shook his hand and +he said that he was glad to see us. I saw the scar under his left +ear and reaching out upon his cheek which my stone had made and +knew that he bore the mark of Cain.</p> +<p>He asked if he could see me alone and the sheriff shook his head +and said sternly:</p> +<p>"Against the rules."</p> +<p>"Amos, I've a boy o' my own an' I feel for ye," said the +schoolmaster. "I'm going to come here, now and then, to cheer ye up +and bring ye some books to read. If there's any word of advice I +can give ye—let me know. Have ye a lawyer?"</p> +<p>"There's one coming to-morrow."</p> +<p>"Don't say a word about the case, boy, to any one but your +lawyer—mind that."</p> +<p>We left him and went to our home and beds. I to spend half the +night thinking of my discovery, since which, for some reason, I had +no doubt of the guilt of Amos, but I spoke not of it to any one and +the secret worried me.</p> +<p>Next morning on my way to school I passed a scene more strange +and memorable than any in my long experience. I saw the shabby +figure of old Benjamin Grimshaw walking in the side path. His hands +were in his pockets, his eyes bent upon the ground, his lips moving +as if he were in deep thought. Roving Kate, the ragged, silent +woman who, for the fortune of Amos, had drawn a gibbet, the shadow +of which was now upon him, walked slowly behind the money-lender +pointing at him with her bony forefinger. Her stern eyes watched +him as the cat watches when its prey is near it. She did not notice +me. Silently, her feet wrapped in rags, she walked behind the man, +always pointing at him. When he stopped she stopped. When he +resumed his slow progress she followed. It thrilled me, partly +because I had begun to believe in the weird, mysterious power of +the Silent Woman. I had twenty minutes to spare and so I turned +into the main street, behind and close by them. I saw him stop and +buy some crackers and an apple and a piece of cheese. Meanwhile she +stood pointing at him. He saw, but gave no heed to her. He walked +along the street in front of the stores, she following as before. +How patiently she followed!</p> +<p>"Why does she follow him that way?" I asked the storekeeper when +they were gone.</p> +<p>"Oh, I dunno, boy!" he answered. "She's crazy an' I guess she +dunno what she's doin'."</p> +<p>The explanation did not satisfy me. I knew, or thought I knew, +better than he the meaning of that look in her eyes. I had seen it +before.</p> +<p>I started for the big schoolhouse and a number of boys joined me +with pleasant words.</p> +<p>"I saw you lookin' at ol' Kate," one of them said to me. "Don't +ye ever make fun o' her. She's got the evil eye an' if she puts it +on ye, why ye'll git drownded er fall off a high place er +somethin'."</p> +<p>The boys were of one accord about that.</p> +<p>Sally ran past us with that low-lived Wills boy, who carried her +books for her. His father had gone into the grocery business and +Henry wore boughten clothes. I couldn't tell Sally how mean he was. +I was angry and decided not to speak to her until she spoke to me. +I got along better in school, although there was some tittering +when I recited, probably because I had a broader dialect and bigger +boots than the boys of the village.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>I MEET PRESIDENT VAN BUREN AND AM CROSS-EXAMINED BY MR. +GRIMSHAW</h3> +<p>The days went easier after that. The boys took me into their +play and some of them were most friendly. I had a swift foot and a +good eye as well as a strong arm, and could hold my own at +three-old-cat—a kind of baseball which we played in the +school yard. Saturday came. As we were sitting down at the table +that morning the younger children clung to the knees of Mr. Hacket +and begged him to take them up the river in a boat.</p> +<p>"Good Lord! What wilt thou give me when I grow childless?" he +exclaimed with his arms around them. "That was the question of +Abraham, and it often comes to me. Of course we shall go. But hark! +Let us hear what the green chair has to say."</p> +<p>There was a moment of silence and then he went on with a merry +laugh. "Right ye are, Michael Henry! You are always right, my +boy—God bless your soul! We shall take Bart with us an' +doughnuts an' cheese an' cookies an' dried meat for all."</p> +<p>From that moment I date the beginning of my love for the +occupant of the green chair in the home of Michael Hacket. Those +good people were Catholics and I a Protestant and yet this Michael +Henry always insisted upon the most delicate consideration for my +faith and feelings.</p> +<p>"I promised to spend the morning in the field with Mr. Wright, +if I may have your consent, sir," I said.</p> +<p>"Then we shall console ourselves, knowing that you are in better +company," said Mr. Hacket.</p> +<p>Mr. Dunkelberg called at the house in Ashery Lane to see me +after breakfast.</p> +<p>"Bart, if you will come with me I should like to order some +store clothes and boots for you," he said in his squeaky voice.</p> +<p>For a moment I knew not how to answer him. Nettled as I had been +by Sally's treatment of me, the offer was like rubbing ashes on the +soreness of my spirit.</p> +<p>I blushed and surveyed my garments and said:</p> +<p>"I guess I look pretty badly, don't I?"</p> +<p>"You look all right, but I thought, maybe, you would feel better +in softer raiment, especially if you care to go around much with +the young people. I am an old friend of the family and I guess it +would be proper for me to buy the clothes for you. When you are +older you can buy a suit for me, sometime, if you care to."</p> +<p>It should be understood that well-to-do people in the towns were +more particular about their dress those days than now.</p> +<p>"I'll ask my aunt and uncle about it," I proposed.</p> +<p>"That's all right," he answered. "I'm going to drive up to your +house this afternoon and your uncle wishes you to go with me. We +are all to have a talk with Mr. Grimshaw."</p> +<p>He left me and I went over to Mr. Wright's.</p> +<p>They told me that he was cutting corn in the back lot, where I +found him.</p> +<p>"How do I look in these clothes?" I bravely asked.</p> +<p>"Like the son of a farmer up in the hills and that's just as you +ought to look," he answered.</p> +<p>In a moment he added as he reaped a hill of corn with his +sickle.</p> +<p>"I suppose they are making fun of you, partner."</p> +<p>"Some," I answered, blushing.</p> +<p>"Don't mind that," he advised, and then quoted the stanza:</p> +<p>"Were I as tall to reach the pole<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Or grasp the ocean in a +span,</span><br /> +I'd still me measured by my soul;<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The mind's the standard of the +man."</span></p> +<p>"Mr. Dunkelberg came this morning and wanted to buy me some new +clothes and boots," I said.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus220.jpg"><img src="images/illus220.jpg" width= +"50%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>"Good Lord! What wilt thou give me when I grow +childless?"</b></div> +<p>The Senator stopped work and stood looking at me with his hands +upon his hips.</p> +<p>"I wouldn't let him do it if I were you," he said +thoughtfully.</p> +<p>Just then I saw a young man come running toward us in the +distant field.</p> +<p>Mr. Wright took out his compass.</p> +<p>"Look here," he said, "you see the needle points due north."</p> +<p>He took a lodestone out of his pocket and holding it near the +compass moved it back and forth. The needle followed it.</p> +<p>The young man came up to us breathing deeply. Perspiration was +rolling off his face. He was much excited and spoke with some +difficulty.</p> +<p>"Senator Wright," he gasped, "Mrs. Wright sent me down to tell +you that President Van Buren is at the house."</p> +<p>I remember vividly the look of mild amusement in the Senator's +face and the serene calmness with which he looked at the young man +and said to him:</p> +<p>"Tell Mrs. Wright to make him comfortable in our easiest chair +and to say to the President that I shall be up directly."</p> +<p>To my utter surprise he resumed his talk with me as the young +man went away.</p> +<p>"You see all ways are north when you put this lodestone near the +needle," he went on. "If it is to tell you the truth you must keep +the lodestone away from the needle. It's that way, too, with the +compass of your soul, partner. There the lodestone is selfishness, +and with its help you can make any direction look right to you and +soon—you're lost."</p> +<p>He put his hand on my arm and said in a low tone which made me +to understand that it was for my ear only.</p> +<p>"What I fear is that they may try to tamper with your compass. +Look out for lodestones."</p> +<p>He was near the end of a row and went on with his reaping as he +said:</p> +<p>"I could take my body off this row any minute, but the only way +to get my mind off it is to go to its end."</p> +<p>He bound the last bundle and then we walked together toward the +house, the Senator carrying his sickle.</p> +<p>"I shall introduce you to the President," he said as we neared +our destination. "Then perhaps you had better leave us."</p> +<p>At home we had read much about the new President and regarded +him with deep veneration. In general I knew the grounds of +it—his fight against the banks for using public funds for +selfish purposes and "swapping mushrats for mink" with the +government, as uncle put it, by seeking to return the same in +cheapened paper money; his long battle for the extension of the +right of suffrage in our state; his fiery eloquence in debate. +Often I had heard Uncle Peabody say that Van Buren had made it +possible for a poor man to vote in York State and hold up his head +like a man. So I was deeply moved by the prospect of seeing +him.</p> +<p>I could not remember that I had ever been "introduced" to +anybody. I knew that people put their wits on exhibition and often +flung down a "snag" by way of demonstrating their fitness for the +honor, when they were introduced in books. I remember asking rather +timidly:</p> +<p>"What shall I say when—when you—introduce me?"</p> +<p>"Oh, say anything that you want to say," he answered with a look +of amusement.</p> +<p>"I'm kind o' scared," I said.</p> +<p>"You needn't be—he was once a poor boy just like you."</p> +<p>"Just like <i>me</i>!" I repeated, thoughtfully, for while I had +heard a good deal of that kind of thing in our home, it had not, +somehow, got under my jacket, as they used to say.</p> +<p>"Just like <i>you</i>—cowhide and all—the son of a +small freeholder in Kinderhook on the Hudson," he went on. "But he +was well fed in brain and body and kept his heart clean. So, of +course, he grew and is still growing. That's a curious thing about +men and women, Bart. If they are in good ground and properly cared +for they never stop growing-never!—and that's a pretty full +word—isn't it?"</p> +<p>I felt its fulness, but the Senator had a way of stopping just +this side of the grave in all his talks with me, and so there was +no sign of preaching in any of it.</p> +<p>"As time goes on you'll meet a good many great men, I presume," +he continued. "They're all just human beings like you and me. Most +of them enjoy beefsteak, and apple pie and good boys."</p> +<p>We had come in sight of the house. I lagged behind a little when +I saw the great man sitting on the small piazza with Mrs. Wright. I +shall never forget the grand clothes he wore—black, saving +the gray waistcoat, with shiny, brass buttons—especially the +great, white standing collar and cravat. I see vividly, too, as I +write, the full figure, the ruddy, kindly face, the large nose, the +gray eyes, the thick halo of silvered hair extending from his +collar to the bald top of his head. He rose and said in a deep +voice:</p> +<p>"He sows ill luck who hinders the reaper."</p> +<p>Mr. Wright hung his sickle on a small tree in the dooryard and +answered.</p> +<p>"The plowman has overtaken the reaper, Mr. President. I bid you +welcome to my humble home."</p> +<p>"It is a pleasure to be here and a regret to call you back to +Washington," said the President as they shook hands.</p> +<p>"I suppose that means an extra session," the Senator +answered.</p> +<p>"First let me reassure you. I shall get away as soon as +possible, for I know that a President is a heavy burden for one to +have on his hands."</p> +<p>"Don't worry. I can get along with almost any kind of a human +being, especially if he likes pudding and milk as well as you do," +said the Senator, who then introduced me in these words:</p> +<p>"Mr. President, this is my young friend Barton Baynes of the +neighborhood of Lickitysplit in the town of Ballybeen—a +coming man of this county."</p> +<p>"Come on," was the playful remark of the President as he took my +hand. "I shall be looking for you."</p> +<p>I had carefully chosen my words and I remember saying, with some +dignity, like one in a story book, although with a trembling +voice:</p> +<p>"It is an honor to meet you, sir, and thank you for the right to +vote—when I am old enough."</p> +<p>Vividly, too, I remember his gentle smile as he looked down at +me and said in a most kindly tone:</p> +<p>"I think it a great honor to hear you say that."</p> +<p>He put his hands upon my shoulders and turning to the Senator +said:</p> +<p>"Wright, I often wish that I had your modesty."</p> +<p>"I need it much more than you do," the Senator laughed.</p> +<p>Straightway I left them with an awkward bow and blushing to the +roots of my hair. A number of boys and girls stood under the shade +trees opposite looking across at the President. In my embarrassment +I did not identify any one in the group. Numbers of men and women +were passing the house and, as they did so, taking "a good look," +in their way of speaking at the two great men. Not before had I +seen so many people walking about—many in their best +clothes.</p> +<p>As I neared the home of Mr. Hacket I heard hurrying footsteps +behind me and the voice of Sally calling my name. I stopped and +faced about.</p> +<p>How charming she looked as she walked toward me! I had never +seen her quite so fixed up.</p> +<p>"Bart," she said. "I suppose you're not going to speak to +me."</p> +<p>"If you'll speak to me," I answered.</p> +<p>"I love to speak to you," she said. "I've been looking all +around for you. Mother wants you to come over to dinner with us at +just twelve o'clock. You're going away with father as soon as we +get through."</p> +<p>I wanted to go but got the notion all at once that the +Dunkelbergs were in need of information about me and that the time +had come to impart it. So then and there, that ancient Olympus of +our family received notice as it were.</p> +<p>"I can't," I said. "I've got to study my lessons before I go +away with your father."</p> +<p>It was a blow to her. I saw the shadow that fell upon her face. +She was vexed and turned and ran away from me without another word +and I felt a pang of regret as I went to the lonely and deserted +home of the schoolmaster.</p> +<p>I had hoped that the Senator would ask me to dinner, but the +coming of the President had upset the chance of it. It was eleven +o'clock. Mrs. Hacket had put a cold bite on the table for me. I ate +it—not to keep it waiting—and sat down with my eyes on +my book and my mind at the Dunkelbergs'—where I heard in a +way what Sally was saying and what "Mr. and Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg" +were saying.</p> +<p>At twelve-thirty Mr. Dunkelberg came for me, with a +high-stepping horse in a new harness and a shiny still-running +buggy. He wore gloves and a beaver hat and sat very erect and had +little to say.</p> +<p>"I hear you met the President," he remarked.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir. I was introduced to him this morning," I answered a +bit too proudly, and wondering how he had heard of my good fortune, +but deeply gratified at his knowledge of it.</p> +<p>"What did he have to say?"</p> +<p>I described the interview and the looks of the great man. Not +much more was said as we sped away toward the deep woods and the +high hills.</p> +<p>I was eager to get home but wondered why he should be going with +me to talk with Mr. Grimshaw and my uncle. Of course I suspected +that it had to do with Amos but how I knew not. He hummed in the +rough going and thoughtfully nicked the bushes with his whip. I +never knew a more persistent hummer.</p> +<p>What a thrill came to me when I saw the house and the popple +tree and the lilac bushes—they looked so friendly! Old Shep +came barking up the road to meet us and ran by the buggy side with +joyful leaps and cries. With what affection he crowded upon me and +licked my face and hands when my feet were on the ground at last! +Aunt Deel and Uncle Peabody were coming in from the pasture lot +with sacks of butternuts on a wheelbarrow. My uncle clapped his +hands and waved his handkerchief and shouted "Hooray!"</p> +<p>Aunt Deel shook hands with Mr. Dunkelberg and then came to me +and said:</p> +<p>"Wal, Bart Baynes! I never was so glad to see anybody in all the +days o' my life—ayes! We been lookin' up the road for an +hour—ayes! You come right into the house this +minute—both o' you."</p> +<p>The table was spread with the things I enjoyed most—big +brown biscuits and a great comb of honey surrounded with its nectar +and a pitcher of milk and a plate of cheese and some jerked meat +and an apple pie.</p> +<p>"Set right down an' eat—I just want to see ye +eat—ayes I do!"</p> +<p>Aunt Deel was treating me like company and with just a pleasant +touch of the old company finish in her voice and manner. It was for +my benefit—there could be no doubt of that—for she +addressed herself to me, chiefly, and not to Mr. Dunkelberg. My +absence of a few days had seemed so long to them! It had raised me +to the rank of company and even put me above the exalted +Dunkelbergs although if Mrs. Horace Dunkelberg had been there in +her blue silk and gold chain "big enough to drag a stone boat," as +Aunt Deel used to say, she might have saved the day for them. Who +knows? Aunt Deel was never much impressed by any man save Silas +Wright, Jr.</p> +<p>Mr. Grimshaw came soon after we had finished our luncheon. He +hitched his horse at the post and came in. He never shook hands +with anybody. In all my life I have met no man of scanter +amenities. All that kind of thing was, in his view, I think, a +waste of time, a foolish encouragement to men who were likely to be +seeking favors.</p> +<p>"Good day," he said, once and for all, as he came in at the open +door. "Baynes, I want to have a talk with you and the boy."</p> +<p>I remember how each intake of his breath hissed through his lips +as he sat down. How worn and faded were his clothes and hat, which +was still on his head! The lines on his rugged brow and cheeks were +deeper than ever.</p> +<p>"Tell me what you know about that murder," he demanded.</p> +<p>"Wal, I had some business over to Plattsburg," my uncle began. +"While I was there I thought I'd go and see Amos. So I drove out to +Beekman's farm. They told me that Amos had left there after workin' +four days. They gave him fourteen shillin's an' he was goin' to +take the stage in the mornin'. He left some time in the night an' +took Beekman's rifle with him, so they said. There was a piece o' +wood broke out o' the stock o' the rifle. That was the kind o' gun +that was used in the murder."</p> +<p>It surprised me that my uncle knew all this. He had said nothing +to me of his journey or its result.</p> +<p>"How do you know?" snapped Mr. Grimshaw.</p> +<p>"This boy see it plain. It was a gun with a piece o' wood broke +out o' the stock."</p> +<p>"Is that so?" was the brusque demand of the money-lender as he +turned to me.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered.</p> +<p>"The boy lies," he snapped, and turning to my uncle added: "Yer +mad 'cause I'm tryin' to make ye pay yer honest debts—ain't +ye now?"</p> +<p>We were stunned by this quick attack. Uncle Peabody rose +suddenly and sat down again. Mr. Grimshaw looked at him with a +strange smile and a taunting devilish laugh came out of his open +lips.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody, keeping his temper, shook his head and calmly +said: "No I ain't anything ag'in' you or Amos, but it's got to be +so that a man can travel the roads o' this town without gettin' his +head blowed off."</p> +<p>Mr. Dunkelberg jumped into the breach then, saying:</p> +<p>"I told Mr. Grimshaw that you hadn't any grudge against him or +his boy and that I knew you'd do what you could to help in this +matter."</p> +<p>"Of course I'll help in any way I can," my uncle answered. "I +couldn't harm him if I tried—not if he's innocent. All he's +got to do is to prove where he was that night."</p> +<p>"Suppose he was lost in the woods?" Mr. Dunkelberg asked.</p> +<p>"The truth wouldn't harm him any," my uncle insisted. "Them +tracks wouldn't fit his boots, an' they'd have to."</p> +<p>Mr. Dunkelberg turned to me and asked:</p> +<p>"Are you sure that the stock of the gun you saw was broken?"</p> +<p>"Yes, sir-and I'm almost sure it was Amos that ran away with +it."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"I picked up a stone and threw it at him and it grazed the left +side of his face, and the other night I saw the scar it made."</p> +<p>My aunt and uncle and Mr. Dunkelberg moved with astonishment as +I spoke of the scar. Mr. Grimshaw, with keen eyes fixed upon me, +gave a little grunt of incredulity.</p> +<p>"Huh!—Liar!" he muttered.</p> +<p>"I am not a liar," I declared with indignation, whereupon my +aunt angrily stirred the fire in the stove and Uncle Peabody put +his hand on my arm and said:</p> +<p>"Hush, Bart! Keep your temper, son."</p> +<p>"If you tell these things you may be the means of sending an +innocent boy to his death," Mr. Dunkelberg said to me. "I wouldn't +be too sure about 'em if I were you. It's so easy to be mistaken. +You couldn't be sure in the dusk that the stone really hit him, +could you?"</p> +<p>I answered: "Yes, sir—I saw the stone hit and I saw him +put his hand on the place while he was running. I guess it hurt him +some."</p> +<p>"Look a' here, Baynes," Mr. Grimshaw began in that familiar +scolding tone of his. "I know what you want an' we might jest as +well git right down to business first as last. You keep this boy +still an' I'll give ye five years' interest."</p> +<p>Aunt Deel gave a gasp and quickly covered her mouth with her +hand. Uncle Peabody changed color as he rose from his chair with a +strange look on his face. He swung his big right hand in the air as +he said:</p> +<p>"By the eternal jumpin'—"</p> +<p>He stopped, pulled down the left sleeve of his flannel shirt and +walked to the water pail and drank out of the dipper.</p> +<p>"The times are hard," Grimshaw resumed in a milder tone. "These +days the rich men dunno what's a-comin' to 'em. If you don't have +no interest to pay you ought to git along easy an' give this boy +the eddication of a Sile Wright."</p> +<p>There was that in his tone and face which indicated that in his +opinion Sile had more "eddication" than any man needed.</p> +<p>"Say, Mr. Grimshaw, I'm awful sorry for ye," said my uncle as he +returned to his chair, "but I've always learnt this boy to tell the +truth an' the hull truth. I know the danger I'm in. We're gettin' +old. It'll be hard to start over ag'in an' you can ruin us if ye +want to an' I'm as scared o' ye as a mouse in a cat's paw, but this +boy has got to tell the truth right out plain. I couldn't muzzle +him if I tried—he's too much of a man. If you're scared o' +the truth you mus' know that Amos is guilty."</p> +<p>Mr. Grimshaw shook his head with anger and beat the floor with +the end of his cane.</p> +<p>"Nobody knows anything o' the kind, Baynes," said Mr. +Dunkelberg. "Of course Amos never thought o' killing anybody. He's +a harmless kind of a boy. I know him well and so do you. The only +thing that anybody ever heard against him is that he's a little +lazy. Under the circumstances Mr. Grimshaw is afraid that Bart's +story will make it difficult for Amos to prove his innocence. Just +think of it. That boy was lost and wandering around in the woods at +the time o' the murder. As to that scar, Amos says that he ran into +a stub when he was going through a thicket in the night."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody shook his head with a look of firmness.</p> +<p>Again Grimshaw laughed between his teeth as he looked at my +uncle. In his view every man had his price.</p> +<p>"I see that I'm the mouse an' you're the cat," he resumed, as +that curious laugh rattled in his throat. "Look a' here, Baynes, +I'll tell ye what I'll do. I'll cancel the hull mortgage."</p> +<p>Again Uncle Peabody rose from his chair with a look in his face +which I have never forgotten. How his voice rang out!</p> +<p>"<i>No, sir</i>!" he shouted so loudly that we all jumped to our +feet and Aunt Deel covered her face with her apron and began to +cry. It was like the explosion of a blast. Then the fragments began +falling with a loud crash:</p> +<p>"NO, SIR! YE CAN'T BUY THE NAIL ON MY LITTLE FINGER OR HIS WITH +ALL YER MONEY—DAMN YOU!"</p> +<p>It was like the shout of Israel from the top of the mountains. +Shep bounced into the house with hair on end and the chickens +cackled and the old rooster clapped his wings and crowed with all +the power of his lungs. Every member of that little group stood +stock-still and breathless.</p> +<p>I trembled with a fear I could not have defined. Quick relief +came when, straightway, my uncle went out of the room and stood on +the stoop, back toward us, and blew his nose vigorously with his +big red handkerchief. He stood still looking down and wiping his +eyes. Mr. Grimshaw shuffled out of the door, his cane rapping the +floor as if his arm had been stricken with palsy in a moment.</p> +<p>Mr. Dunkelberg turned to my aunt, his face scarlet, and muttered +an apology for the disturbance and followed the money-lender.</p> +<p>I remember that my own eyes were wet as I went to my aunt and +kissed her. She kissed me—a rare thing for her to +do—and whispered brokenly but with a smile: "We'll go down to +the poorhouse together, Bart, but we'll go honest."</p> +<p>"Come on, Bart," Uncle Peabody called cheerfully, as he walked +toward the barnyard. "Le's go an' git in them but'nuts."</p> +<p>He paid no attention to our visitors—neither did my aunt, +who followed us. The two men talked together a moment, unhitched +their horses, got into their buggies and drove away. The great red +rooster had stood on the fence eying them. As they turned their +horses and drove slowly toward the gate, he clapped his wings and +crowed lustily.</p> +<p>"Give it to 'em, ol' Dick," said Uncle Peabody with a clap of +his hands. "Tell 'em what ye think of 'em."</p> +<p>At last the Dunkelbergs had fallen—the legendary, +incomparable Dunkelbergs!</p> +<p>"Wal, I'm surprised at Mr. Horace Dunkelberg tryin' to come it +over us like that—ayes! I be," said Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>"Wal, I ain't," said Uncle Peabody. "Ol' Grimshaw has got him +under his thumb—that's what's the matter. You'll find he's up +to his ears in debt to Grimshaw—prob'ly."</p> +<p>As we followed him toward the house, he pushing the wheelbarrow +loaded with sacks of nuts, he added:</p> +<p>"At last Grimshaw has found somethin' that he can't buy an' he's +awful surprised. Too bad he didn't learn that lesson long ago."</p> +<p>He stopped his wheelbarrow by the steps and we sat down together +on the edge of the stoop as he added:</p> +<p>"I got mad—they kep' pickin' on me so—I'm sorry, but +I couldn't help it. We'll start up ag'in somewheres if we have to. +There's a good many days' work in me yet."</p> +<p>As we carried the bags to the attic room I thought of the +lodestone and the compass and knew that Mr. Wright had foreseen +what was likely to happen. When we came down Uncle Peabody said to +me:</p> +<p>"Do you remember what you read out of a book one night about a +man sellin' his honor?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered. "It's one o' the books that Mr. Wright gave +us."</p> +<p>"It's somethin' purty common sense," he remarked, "an' we +stopped and talked it over. I wish you'd git the book an' read it +now."</p> +<p>I found the book and read aloud the following passage:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Honor is a strange commodity. It can not be divided and sold in +part. All or none is the rule of the market. While it can be sold +in a way, it can not be truly bought. It vanishes in the transfer +of its title and is no more. Who seeks to buy it gains only loss. +It is the one thing which distinguishes manhood from property. Who +sells his honor sells his manhood and becomes simply a thing of +meat and blood and bones—a thing to be watched and driven and +cudgelled like the ox—for he has sold that he can not buy, +not if all the riches in the world were his."</p> +</div> +<p>A little silence followed the words. Then Uncle Peabody +said:</p> +<p>"That's the kind o' stuff in our granary. We've been reapin' it +out o' the books Mr. Grimshaw scolded about, a little here an' a +little there for years, an' we knew it was good wheat. If he had +books like that in his house mebbe Amos would 'a' been different. +An' he'd 'a' been different. He wouldn't 'a' had to come here +tryin' to buy our honor like you'd buy a hoss."</p> +<p>"Oh, dear!" Aunt Deel exclaimed wearily, with her hands over her +eyes; "a boy has to have somethin' besides pigs an' cattle an' +threats an' stones an' hoss dung an' cow manure to take up his +mind."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody voiced my own feeling when he said:</p> +<p>"I feel sorry, awful sorry, for that boy."</p> +<p>We spent a silent afternoon gathering apples. After supper we +played Old Sledge and my uncle had hard work to keep us in good +countenance. We went to bed early and I lay long hearing the autumn +wind in the popple leaves and thinking of that great thing which +had grown strong within us, little by little, in the +candle-light.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>A PARTY AND—MY FOURTH PERIL?</h3> +<p>"A dead fish can swim down-stream but only a live one can swim +up it," said Uncle Peabody as we rode toward the village together. +We had been talking of that strong current of evil which had tried +to carry us along with it. I understood him perfectly.</p> +<p>It was a rainy Sunday. In the middle of the afternoon Uncle +Peabody and I had set out in our spring buggy with the family +umbrella—a faded but sacred implement, always carefully +dried, after using, and hung in the clothes press. I remember that +its folded skirt was as big around as my coat sleeve and that Uncle +Peabody always grasped it in the middle, with hand about its waist, +in a way of speaking, when he carried it after a shower. The rain +came on again and with such violence that we were drenched to the +skin in spite of the umbrella. It was still raining when we arrived +at the familiar door in Ashery Lane. Uncle Peabody wouldn't +stop.</p> +<p>"Water never scares a live fish," he declared with a chuckle as +he turned around. "Good-by, Bart."</p> +<p>He hurried away. We pioneers rarely stopped or even turned out +for the weather. Uncle Peabody used to say that the way to get sick +was to change your clothes every time you got wet. It was growing +dusk and I felt sorry for him.</p> +<p>"Come in," said the voice of the schoolmaster at the door. +"There's good weather under this roof."</p> +<p>He saw my plight as I entered.</p> +<p>"I'm like a shaggy dog that's been in swimming," I said.</p> +<p>"Upon my word, boy, we're in luck," remarked the +schoolmaster.</p> +<p>I looked up at him.</p> +<p>"Michael Henry's clothes!—sure, they're just the thing for +you!"</p> +<p>"Will they go on me?" I asked, for, being large of my age, I had +acquired an habitual shyness of things that were too small for me, +and things, too, had seemed to have got the habit of being too +small.</p> +<p>"As easily as Nick Tubbs goes on a spree, and far more becoming, +for I do not think a spree ever looks worse than when Tubbs is on +it. Come with me."</p> +<p>I followed him up-stairs, wondering how it had happened that +Michael Henry had clothes.</p> +<p>He took me into his room and brought some handsome soft clothes +out of a press with shirt, socks and boots to match.</p> +<p>"There, my laddie buck," said he, "put them on."</p> +<p>"These will soon dry on me," I said.</p> +<p>"Put them on—ye laggard! Michael Henry told me to give +them to you. It's the birthday night o' little Ruth, my boy. +There's a big cake with candles and chicken pie and jellied cookies +and all the like o' that. Put them on. A wet boy at the feast would +dampen the whole proceedings."</p> +<p>I put them on and with a great sense of relief and comfort. They +were an admirable fit—too perfect for an accident, although +at the time I thought only of their grandeur as I stood surveying +myself in the looking-glass. They were of blue cloth and I saw that +they went well with my blond hair and light skin. I was putting on +my collar and necktie when Mr. Hacket returned.</p> +<p>"God bless ye, boy," said he. "There's not a bear in the +township whose coat and trousers are a better fit. Sure if ye had +on a beaver hat ye'd look like a lawyer or a statesman. Boy! How +delighted Michael Henry will be! Come on now. The table is spread +and the feast is waiting. Mind ye, give a good clap when I come in +with the guest."</p> +<p>We went below and the table was very grand with its great +frosted cake and its candles, in shiny brass sticks, and its +jellies and preserves with the gleam of polished pewter among them. +Mrs. Hacket and all the children, save Ruth, were waiting for us in +the dining-room.</p> +<p>"Now sit down here, all o' ye, with Michael Henry," said the +schoolmaster. "The little lady will be impatient. I'll go and get +her and God help us to make her remember the day."</p> +<p>He was gone a moment, only, when he came back with Ruth in +lovely white dress and slippers and gay with ribbons, and the +silver beads of Mary on her neck. We clapped our hands and cheered +and, in the excitement of the moment, John tipped over his drinking +glass and shattered it on the floor.</p> +<p>"Never mind, my brave lad—no glass ever perished in a +better cause. God bless you!"</p> +<p>What a merry time we had in spite of recurring thoughts of Uncle +Peabody and the black horse toiling over the dark hills and flats +in the rain toward the lonely farm and the lonelier, beloved woman +who awaited him! There were many shadows in the way of happiness +those days but, after all, youth has a way of speeding through +them—hasn't it?</p> +<p>We ate and jested and talked, and the sound of our laughter +drowned the cry of the wind in the chimney and the drumming of the +rain upon the windows.</p> +<p>In the midst of it all Mr. Hacket arose and tapped his cup with +his spoon.</p> +<p>"Oh you merry, God-blessed people," he said. "Michael Henry has +bade me speak for him."</p> +<p>The schoolmaster took out of his pocketbook a folded sheet of +paper. As he opened it a little, golden, black-tipped feather fell +upon the table.</p> +<p>"Look! here is a plume o' the golden robin," the schoolmaster +went on. "He dropped it in our garden yesterday to lighten ship, I +fancied, before he left, the summer's work and play being ended. Ye +should 'a' seen Michael Henry when he looked at the feather. How it +tickled his fancy! I gave him my thought about it.</p> +<p>"'Nay, father,' he answered. 'Have ye forgotten that to-morrow +is the birthday o' our little Ruth? The bird knew it and brought +this gift to her. It is out o' the great gold mines o' the sky +which are the richest in the world.'</p> +<p>"Then these lines came off his tongue, with no more hesitation +about it than the bird has when he sings his song on a bright +summer morning and I put them down to go with the feather. Here +they are now:</p> +<div class="blockquot">"TO RUTH<br /> +<br /> +"'Little lady, draw thy will<br /> +With this Golden Robin's quill—<br /> +Sun-stained, night-tipped, elfish thing—<br /> +Symbol of thy magic wing!<br /> +<br /> +"'Give to me thy fairy lands<br /> +And palaces, on silver sands.<br /> +Oh will to me, my heart implores,<br /> +Their alabaster walls and floors!<br /> +Their gates that ope on Paradise<br /> +Or earth, or Eden in a trice.<br /> +Give me thy title to the hours<br /> +That pass in fair Aladdin towers.<br /> +But most I'd prize thy heavenly art<br /> +To win and lead the stony heart.<br /> +Give these to me that solemn day<br /> +Thou'rt done with them, I humbly pray.<br /> +<br /> +"'Little lady, draw thy will<br /> +With this Golden Robin's quill.'"</div> +<p>He bowed to our young guest and kissed her hand and sat down in +the midst of our cheering.</p> +<p>I remember well the delightful sadness that came into my heart +on the musical voice of the reader. The lines, simple as they were, +opened a new gate in my imagination beyond which I heard often the +sound of music and flowing fountains and caught glimpses, now and +then, of magic towers and walls of alabaster. There had been no +fairies in Lickitysplit. Two or three times I had come upon fairy +footprints in the books which Mr. Wright had sent to us, but +neither my aunt nor my uncle could explain whence they came or the +nature of their errand.</p> +<p>Mr. Hacket allowed me to write down the lines in my little diary +of events and expenses, from which I have just copied them.</p> +<p>We sang and spoke pieces until nine o'clock and then we older +members of the party fell to with Mrs. Hacket and washed and dried +the dishes and put them away.</p> +<p>Next morning my clothes, which had been hung by the kitchen +stove, were damp and wrinkled. Mr. Racket came to my room before I +had risen.</p> +<p>"Michael Henry would rather see his clothes hanging on a good +boy than on a nail in the closet," said he. "Sure they give no +comfort to the nail at all."</p> +<p>"I guess mine are dry now," I answered.</p> +<p>"They're wet and heavy, boy. No son o' Baldur could keep a light +heart in them. Sure ye'd be as much out o' place as a sunbeam in a +cave o' bats. If ye care not for your own comfort think o' the poor +lad in the green chair. He's that proud and pleased to see them on +ye it would be a shame to reject his offer. Sure, if they were dry +yer own garments would be good enough, God knows, but Michael Henry +loves the look o' ye in these togs and then the President is in +town."</p> +<p>That evening he discovered a big stain, black as ink, on my coat +and trousers. Mr. Hacket expressed the opinion that it might have +come from the umbrella but I am quite sure that he had spotted them +to save me from the last home-made suit I ever wore, save in rough +work, and keep Michael Henry's on my back. In any event I wore them +no more save at chore time.</p> +<p>I began to make good progress in my studies that week and to +observe the affection with which Mr. Hacket was regarded in the +school and village. I remember that his eyes gave out and had to be +bandaged but the boys and girls in his room behaved even better +than before. It was curious to observe how the older ones +controlled the younger in that emergency.</p> +<p>Sally came and went, with the Wills boy, and gave no heed to me. +In her eyes I had no more substance than a ghost, it seemed to me, +although I caught her, often, looking at me. I judged that her +father had given her a bad report of us and had some regrets, in +spite of my knowledge that we were right, although they related +mostly to Amos.</p> +<p>Next afternoon I saw Mr. Wright and the President walking back +and forth on the bridge as they talked together. A number of men +stood in front of the blacksmith shop, by the river shore, watching +them, as I passed, on my way to the mill on an errand. The two +statesmen were in broadcloth and white linen and beaver hats. They +stopped as I approached them.</p> +<p>"Well, partner, we shall be leaving in an hour or so," said Mr. +Wright as he gave me his hand. "You may look for me here soon after +the close of the session. Take care of yourself and go often to see +Mrs. Wright and obey your captain and remember me to your aunt and +uncle."</p> +<p>"See that you keep coming, my good boy," said the President as +he gave me his hand, with playful reference, no doubt, to Mr. +Wright's remark that I was a coming man.</p> +<p>"Bart, I've some wheat to be threshed in the barn on the back +lot," said the Senator as I was leaving them. "You can do it +Saturdays, if you care to, at a shilling an hour. Stack the straw +out-of-doors until you've finished then put it back in the bay. +Winnow the wheat carefully and sack it and bring it down to the +granary and I'll settle with you when I return."</p> +<p>I remember that a number of men who worked in Grimshaw's +saw-mill were passing as he spoke.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," I answered, much elated by the prospect of earning +money.</p> +<p>I left with a feeling of keen disappointment that I was to see +so little of my distinguished friend and a thought of the imperious +errands of men which put the broad reaches of the earth between +friend and friend.</p> +<p>I remember repeating to myself the words of the Senator which +began: "You may look for me here soon after the close of the +session," in the tone in which he had said them. As of old, I +admired and tried to imitate his dignity of speech and bearing.</p> +<p>When I returned from the mill they were gone.</p> +<p>The examination of Amos was set down for Monday and the people +of the village were stirred and shaken by wildest rumors regarding +the evidence to be adduced. Every day men and women stopped me in +the Street to ask what I knew of the murder. I followed the advice +of Bishop Perkins and kept my knowledge to myself.</p> +<p>My life went on at the same kindly, merry pace in the home of +the schoolmaster. The bandages over his eyes had in no way clouded +his spirit.</p> +<p>"Ah, now, I wish that I could see you," he said one evening when +we were all laughing at some remark of his. "I love the look of a +merry face."</p> +<p>I continued to wear the mysterious clothes of Michael Henry, +save at chore time, when I put on the spotted suit of homespun. I +observed that it made a great difference with my social standing. I +was treated with a greater deference at the school, and Elizabeth +Allen invited me to her party, to which, however, I had not the +courage to go, having no idea what happened to one at a village +party.</p> +<p>I asked a boy in my Latin class to tell me.</p> +<p>"Oh, ye just fly around an' kiss and git kissed till ye feel +like a fool."</p> +<p>That settled it for me. Not that I would have failed to enjoy +kissing Sally, but we were out, as they used to say, and it would +have embarrassed both of us to meet at a party.</p> +<p>Saturday came and, when the chores were done, I went alone to +the grain barn in the back lot of the Senator's farm with flail and +measure and broom and fork and shovel and sacks and my luncheon, in +a push cart, with all of which Mrs. Wright had provided me.</p> +<p>It was a lonely place with woods on three sides of the field and +a road on the other. I kept laying down beds of wheat on the +barn-floor and beating them out with the flail until the sun was +well over the roof when I sat down to eat my luncheon. Then I swept +up the grain and winnowed out the chaff and filled one of my sacks. +That done, I covered the floor again and the thump of the flail +eased my loneliness until in the middle of the afternoon two of my +schoolmates came and asked me to go swimming, with them. The river +was not forty rods away and a good trail led to the swimming hole. +It was a warm bright day and I was hot and thirsty. The thought of +cool waters and friendly companionship was too much for me. I went +with them.</p> +<p>More ancient than the human form is that joy of the young in the +feel of air and water on the naked skin, in the frog-like leap and +splash and the monkey-chatter of the swimming hole. There were a +number of the "swamp boys" in the water. They lived in cabins on +the edges of the near swamp. I stayed with them longer than I +intended. I remember saying as I dressed that I should have to work +late and go without my supper in order to finish my stent.</p> +<p>It was almost dark when I was putting the last sack of wheat +into my cart, in the gloomy barn, and getting ready to go.</p> +<p>A rustling in the straw near where I stood stopped me suddenly. +My skin prickled and began to stir on my head and my feet and hands +felt numb with a new fear. I heard stealthy footsteps in the +darkness. I stood my ground and demanded:</p> +<p>"Who's there?"</p> +<p>I saw a form approaching in the gloom with feet as noiseless as +a cat's. I took a step backward and, seeing that it was a woman, +stopped.</p> +<p>"It's Kate," the answer came in a hoarse whisper as I recognized +her form and staff.</p> +<p>"Run, boy—they have just come out o' the woods. I saw +them. They will take you away. Run."</p> +<p>She had picked up the flail and now she put it in my hands and +gave me a push toward the door. I ran, and none too quickly, for I +had not gone fifty feet from the barn in the stubble when I heard +them coming after me, whoever they were. I saw that they were +gaining and turned quickly. I had time to raise my flail and bring +it down upon the head of the leader, who fell as I had seen a beef +fall under the ax. Another man stopped beyond the reach of my flail +and, after a second's hesitation, turned and ran away in the +darkness.</p> +<p>I could hear or see no other motion in the field. I turned and +ran on down the slope toward the village. In a moment I saw some +one coming out of the maple grove at the field's end, just ahead, +with a lantern.</p> +<p>Then I heard the voice of the schoolmaster saying:</p> +<p>"Is it you, my lad?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered, as I came up to him and Mary, in a condition +of breathless excitement.</p> +<p>I told them of the curious adventure I had had.</p> +<p>"Come quick," said the schoolmaster. "Let's go back and find the +man in the stubble."</p> +<p>I remembered that I had struck the path in my flight just before +stopping to swing the flail. The man must have fallen very near it. +Soon we found where he had been lying and drops of fresh blood on +the stubble.</p> +<p>"Hush," said the schoolmaster.</p> +<p>We listened and heard a wagon rattling at a wild pace down the +road toward the river.</p> +<p>"There he goes," said Mr. Hacket. "His companions have carried +him away. Ye'd be riding in that wagon now, yerself, my brave lad, +if ye hadn't 'a' made a lucky hit with the flail—God bless +ye!"</p> +<p>"What would they 'a' done with me?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, I reckon they'd 'a' took ye off, lad, and kep' ye for a +year or so until Amos was out o' danger," said Mr. Hacket. "Maybe +they'd drowned ye in the river down there an' left yer clothes on +the bank to make it look like an honest drowning. The devil knows +what they'd 'a' done with ye, laddie buck. We'll have to keep an +eye on ye now, every day until the trial is over—sure we +will. Come, we'll go up to the barn and see if Kate is there."</p> +<p>Just then we heard the receding wagon go roaring over the bridge +on Little River. Mary shuddered with fright. The schoolmaster +reassured us by saying:</p> +<p>"Don't be afraid. I brought my gun in case we'd meet a painter. +But the danger is past."</p> +<p>He drew a long pistol from his coat pocket and held it in the +light of the lantern.</p> +<p>The loaded cart stood in the middle of the barn floor, where I +had left it, but old Kate had gone. We closed the barn, drawing the +cart along with us. When we came into the edge of the village I +began to reflect upon the strange peril out of which I had so +luckily escaped. It gave me a heavy sense of responsibility and of +the wickedness of men.</p> +<p>I thought, of old Kate and her broken silence. For once I had +heard her speak. I could feel my flesh tingle when I thought of her +quick words and her hoarse passionate whisper. She must have come +into the barn while I was swimming and hidden behind the straw heap +in the rear end of it and watched the edge of the woods through the +many cracks in the boarding.</p> +<p>I knew, or thought I knew, why she took such care of me. She was +in league with the gallows and could not bear to see it cheated of +its prey. For some reason she hated the Grimshaws. I had seen the +hate in her eyes the day she dogged along behind the old +money-lender through the streets of the village when her pointing +finger had seemed to say to me: "There, there is the man who has +brought me to this. He has put these rags upon my back, this fire +in my heart, this wild look in my eyes. Wait and you shall see what +I will put upon him."</p> +<p>I knew that old Kate was not the irresponsible, witless creature +that people thought her to be. I had begun to think of her with a +kind of awe as one gifted above all others. One by one the things +she had said of the future seemed to be coming true.</p> +<p>When we had pulled the cart into the stable I tried to shift one +of the bags of grain and observed that my hands trembled and that +it seemed very heavy.</p> +<p>As we were going into the house the schoolmaster said:</p> +<p>"Now, Mary, you take this lantern and go across the street to +the house o' Deacon Binks, the constable. You'll find him asleep by +the kitchen stove. Arrest his slumbers, but not rudely, and, when +he has come to, tell him that I have news o' the devil."</p> +<p>"This shows the power o' knowledge. Bart," he said to me when we +entered the house.</p> +<p>I wondered what he meant and he went on:</p> +<p>"You have knowledge of the shooting that no other man has. You +could sell it for any money ye would ask. Only ye can't sell it, +now, because it's about an evil thing. But suppose ye knew more +than any other man about the law o' contracts, or the science o' +bridge building, or the history o' nations or the habits o' bugs or +whatever. Then ye become the principal witness in a different kind +o' case. Then it's proper to sell yer knowledge for the good o' the +world and they'll be as eager to get it as they are what ye know +about the shooting. And nobody'll want to kill ye. Every man o' +them'll want to keep ye alive. But mind, ye must be the +<i>principal witness</i>."</p> +<p>Deacon Binks arrived, a fat man with a big round body and a very +wise and serious countenance between side whiskers bending from his +temple to his neck and suggesting parentheses of hair, as if his +head and its accessories were in the nature of a side issue. He and +the schoolmaster went out-of-doors and must have talked together +while I was eating a bowl of bread and milk which Mrs. Hacket had +brought to me.</p> +<p>When I went to bed, by and by, I heard somebody snoring on the +little porch under my window. The first sound that reached my ear +at the break of dawn was the snoring of the same sleeper. I dressed +and went below and found the constable in his coon-skin overcoat +asleep on the porch with a long-barreled gun at his side. While I +stood there the schoolmaster came around the corner of the house +from the garden. He smiled as he saw the deacon.</p> +<p>"Talk about the placid rest of Egyptian gods!" he exclaimed. +"Look at the watchful eye o' Justice. How well she sleeps in this +peaceful valley! Sometimes ye can hardly wake her up at all, at +all."</p> +<p>He put his hand on the deacon's shoulder and gave him a little +shake.</p> +<p>"Awake, ye limb o' the law," he demanded. "Prayer is better than +sleep."</p> +<p>The deacon arose and stretched himself and cleared his throat +and assumed an air of alertness and said it was a fine morning, +which it was not, the sky being overcast and the air dank and +chilly. He removed his greatcoat and threw it on the stoop +saying:</p> +<p>"Deacon, you lay there. From now on I'm constable and ready for +any act that may be necessary to maintain the law. I can be as +severe as Napoleon Bonaparte and as cunning as Satan, if I have to +be."</p> +<p>I remember that through the morning's work the sleepy deacon and +the alert constable contended over the possession of his stout +frame.</p> +<p>The constable shouldered the gun and followed me into the +pasture where I went to get the cow. I saw now that his intention +was to guard me from further attacks. While I was milking, the +deacon sat on a bucket in the doorway of the stable and snored +until I had finished. He awoke when I loosed the cow and the +constable went back to the pasture with me, yawning with his hand +over his mouth much of the way. The deacon leaned his elbow on the +top of the pen and snored again, lightly, while I mixed the feed +for the pigs.</p> +<p>Mr. Hacket met us at the kitchen door, where Deacon Binks said +to him:</p> +<p>"If you'll look after the boy to-day, I'll go home and get a +little rest."</p> +<p>"God bless yer soul, ye had a busy night," said the schoolmaster +with a smile.</p> +<p>He added as he went into the house:</p> +<p>"I never knew a man to rest with more energy and persistence. It +was a perfect flood o' rest. It kept me awake until long after +midnight."</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>THE SPIRIT OF MICHAEL HENRY AND OTHERS</h3> +<p>That last peril is one of the half-solved mysteries of my life. +The following affidavit, secured by an assistant of the district +attorney from a young physician in a village above Ballybeen, never +a matter of record, heightened its interest for me and my +friends.</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Deponent saith that about eleven o'clock on the evening of the, +24th of September (that on which the attack upon me was made) a man +unknown to him called at his office and alleged that a friend of +the stranger had been injured and was in need of surgical aid. He +further alleged that his friend was in trouble and being sought +after and that he, the caller, dared not, therefore, reveal the +place where his friend had taken refuge. He offered the deponent +the sum of ten dollars to submit to the process of blindfolding and +of being conducted to I said place for the purpose of giving relief +to the injured man. Whereupon the deponent declares that he +submitted to said process and was conducted by wagon and trail to a +bark shanty at some place in the woods unknown to him where the +bandage was removed from his eyes. He declares further that he +found there, a strong built, black-bearded man about thirty years +of age, and a stranger to him, lying on a bed of boughs in the +light of a fire and none other. This man was groaning in great pain +from a wound made by some heavy weapon on the side of his head. The +flesh of the cheek and ear were swollen and lacerated. Deponent +further declares that he administered an opiate and dressed and put +a number of stitches in the injured parts and bound them with a +bandage soaked in liniment. Then deponent returned to his home, +blindfolded as he had left it. He declares that the time consumed +in the journey from the shanty to his home was one hour and ten +minutes."</p> +</div> +<p>It should be said that, in the theory of the district attorney +the effort to retire the principal witness, if, indeed, that were +the intention of their pursuit of me, originated in the minds of +lawless and irresponsible men. I know that there are those who find +a joy in creating mysteries and defeating the law, but let it be +set down here that I have never concurred in the views of that able +officer.</p> +<p>At the examination of Amos Grimshaw my knowledge was committed +to the records and ceased to be a source of danger to me. Grimshaw +came to the village that day. On my way to the court room I saw him +walking slowly, with bent head as I had seen him before, followed +by old Kate. She carried her staff in her left hand while the +forefinger of her right was pointing him out. Silent as a ghost and +as unheeded—one would say—she followed his steps.</p> +<p>I remember when I went on the stand my eyes filled with tears. +Amos gave me an appealing look that went to my heart. It was hard +for me to tell the truth that day—never has it been so hard. +If I had had the riches of Grimshaw himself I would have given them +to be relieved. Was there nothing that I could do for Amos?</p> +<p>I observed that old Kate sat on a front seat with her hand to +her ear and Grimshaw beside his lawyer at a big table and that when +she looked at him her lips moved in a strange unuttered whisper of +her spirit. Her face filled with joy as one damning detail after +another came out in the evidence.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel and Uncle Peabody came to the village that day and sat +in the court room. They had dinner with us at the schoolmaster's, +but I had little chance to talk with them. Aunt Deel went up to my +room with me and slyly gave me some fresh cookies wrapped in a +piece of newspaper which she carried in a little basket bought from +the Indians.</p> +<p>"Here's somethin' else," she said. "I was keepin' 'em for +Chris'mas—ayes!—but it's so cold I guess ye better have +'em now—ayes!"</p> +<p>Then she gave me a pair of mittens with a red fringe around the +wristbands, and two pairs of socks.</p> +<p>I remember that my uncle laughed at the jests of Mr. Hacket but +said little and was not, I thought, in good spirits. They went home +before the examination ended.</p> +<p>The facts hereinbefore alleged, and others, were proven, for the +tracks fitted the shoes of Amos. The young man was held and +presently indicted. The time of his trial was not determined.</p> +<p>I received much attention from young and old in the village +after that, for I found soon that I had acquired a reputation for +bravery, of the slender foundation for which the reader is well +aware. I was invited to many parties, but had not much heart for +them and went only to one at the home of Nettie Barrows. Sally was +there. She came to me as if nothing had interrupted our friendship +and asked if I would play Hunt the Squirrel with them. Of course I +was glad to make this treaty of peace, which was sealed with many +kisses as we played together in those lively games of the old time. +I remember that I could think of nothing in this world with which +to compare her beauty. I asked if I could walk home with her and +she said that she was engaged, and while she was as amiable as ever +I came to know that night that a kind of wall had risen between +us.</p> +<p>I wrote a good hand those days and the leading merchant of the +village engaged me to post his books every Saturday at ten cents an +hour. Thenceforward until Christmas I gave my free days to that +task. I estimated the sum that I should earn and planned to divide +it in equal parts and proudly present it to my aunt and uncle on +Christmas day.</p> +<p>One Saturday while I was at work on the big ledger of the +merchant I ran upon this item:</p> +<p>October 3. S. Wright—To one suit of<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">clothes for Michael +Henry</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">from measures furnished +by</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">S. Robinson + $14.30</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">Shirts to match + 1.70</span></p> +<p>I knew then the history of the suit of clothes which I had worn +since that rainy October night, for I remembered that Sam Robinson, +the tailor, had measured me at our house and made up the cloth of +Aunt Deel's weaving.</p> +<p>I observed, also, that numerous articles—a load of wood, +two sacks of flour, three pairs of boots, one coat, ten pounds of +salt pork and four bushels of potatoes—all for "Michael +Henry" had been charged to Silas Wright.</p> +<p>So by the merest chance I learned that the invisible "Michael +Henry" was the almoner of the modest statesman and really the +spirit of Silas Wright feeding the hungry and clothing the naked +and warming the cold house, in the absence of its owner. It was the +heart of Wright joined to that of the schoolmaster, which sat in +the green chair.</p> +<p>I fear that my work suffered a moment's interruption, for just +then I began to know the great heart of the Senator. Its warmth was +in the clothing that covered my back, its delicacy in the ignorance +of those who had shared its benefactions.</p> +<p>I count this one of the great events of my youth. But there was +a greater one, although it seemed not so at the time of it. A +traveler on the road to Ballybeen had dropped his pocketbook +containing a large amount of money—two thousand seven hundred +dollars was the sum, if I remember rightly. He was a man who, being +justly suspicious of the banks, had withdrawn his money. Posters +announced the loss and the offer of a large reward. The village was +profoundly stirred by them. Searching parties went up the road +stirring its dust and groping in its grass and briers for the great +prize which was supposed to be lying there. It was said, however, +that the quest had been unsuccessful. So the lost pocketbook became +a treasured mystery of the village and of all the hills and valleys +toward Ballybeen—a topic of old wives and gabbing husbands at +the fireside for unnumbered years.</p> +<p>By and by the fall term of school ended. Uncle Peabody came down +to get me the day before Christmas. I had enjoyed my work and my +life at the Hackets', on the whole, but I was glad to be going home +again. My uncle was in high spirits and there were many packages in +the sleigh.</p> +<p>"A merry Christmas to ye both an' may the Lord love ye!" said +Mr. Hacket as he bade us good-by. "Every day our thoughts will be +going up the hills to your house."</p> +<p>As he was tucking the blankets around my feet old Nick Tubbs +came zigzagging up the road from the tavern.</p> +<p>"What stimulation travels with that man!" said the schoolmaster. +"He might be worse, God knows. Reeling minds are worse than reeling +bodies. Some men are born drunk like our friend Colonel Hand and +that kind is beyond reformation."</p> +<p>The bells rang merrily as we hurried through the swamp in the +hard snow paths.</p> +<p>"We're goin' to move," said my uncle presently. "We've agreed to +get out by the middle o' May."</p> +<p>"How does that happen?" I asked.</p> +<p>"I settled with Grimshaw and agreed to go. If it hadn't 'a' been +for Wright and Baldwin we wouldn't 'a' got a cent. They threatened +to bid against him at the sale. So he settled. We're goin' to have +a new home. We've bought a hundred an' fifty acres from Abe +Leonard. Goin' to build a new house in the spring. It will be +nearer the village."</p> +<p>He playfully nudged my ribs with his elbow.</p> +<p>"We've had a little good luck, Bart," he went on. "I'll tell ye +what it is if you won't say anything about it."</p> +<p>I promised.</p> +<p>"I dunno as it would matter much," he continued, "but I don't +want to do any braggin'. It ain't anybody's business but ours, +anyway. An old uncle over in Vermont died three weeks ago and left +us thirty-eight hundred dollars. It was old Uncle Ezra Baynes o' +Hinesburg. Died without a chick or child. Your aunt and me slipped +down to Potsdam an' took the stage an' went over an' got the money. +It was more money than I ever see before in my life. We put it in +the bank in Potsdam to keep it out o' Grimshaw's hands. I wouldn't +trust that man as fur as you could throw a bull by the tail."</p> +<p>It was a cold clear night and when we reached home the new stove +was snapping with the heat in its fire-box and the pudding puffing +in the pot and old Shep dreaming in the chimney corner. Aunt Deel +gave me a hug at the door. Shep barked and leaped to my +shoulders.</p> +<p>"Why, Bart! You're growin' like a weed—ain't +ye?—ayes ye be," my aunt said as she stood and looked at me. +"Set right down here an' warm ye—ayes!—I've done all +the chores—ayes!"</p> +<p>How warm and comfortable was the dear old room with those +beloved faces in it. I wonder if paradise itself can seem more +pleasant to me. I have had the best food this world can provide in +my time, but never anything that I ate with a keener relish than +the pudding and milk and bread and butter and cheese and pumpkin +pie which Aunt Deel gave us that night.</p> +<p>Supper over, I wiped the dishes for my aunt while Uncle Peabody +went out to feed and water the horses. Then we sat down in the +genial warmth while I told the story of my life in "the busy town," +as they called it. What pride and attention they gave me then!</p> +<p>Three days before they had heard of my adventure with the flail, +as to which Mr. Hacket, the district attorney and myself had +maintained the strictest reticence. It seemed that the deacon had +blabbed, as they used to say, regarding his own brave part in the +subsequent proceedings.</p> +<p>My fine clothes and the story of how I had come by them taxed my +ingenuity somewhat, although not improperly. I had to be careful +not to let them know that I had been ashamed of the home-made suit. +They, somehow, felt the truth about it and a little silence +followed the story. Then Aunt Deel drew her chair near me and +touched my hair very gently and looked into my face without +speaking.</p> +<p>"Ayes! I know," she said presently, in a kind of caressing tone, +with a touch of sadness in it. "They ain't used to coarse homespun +stuff down there in the village. They made fun o' ye—didn't +they, Bart?"</p> +<p>"I don't care about that," I assured them. "'The mind's the +measure of the man,'" I quoted, remembering the lines the Senator +had repeated to me.</p> +<p>"That's sound!" Uncle Peabody exclaimed with enthusiasm.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel took my hand in hers and surveyed it thoughtfully for +a moment without speaking.</p> +<p>"You ain't goin' to have to suffer that way no more," she said +in a low tone.</p> +<p>I rose and went to the parlor door.</p> +<p>"Ye mustn't go in there," she warned me.</p> +<p>Delightful suspicions came out of the warning and their +smiles.</p> +<p>"We're goin' to be more comf'table—ayes," said Aunt Deel +as I resumed my chair. "Yer uncle thought we better go west, but I +couldn't bear to go off so fur an' leave mother an' father an' +sister Susan an' all the folks we loved layin' here in the ground +alone—I want to lay down with 'em by an' by an' wait for the +sound o' the trumpet—ayes!—mebbe it'll be for thousands +o' years—ayes!"</p> +<p>"You don't suppose their souls are a-sleepin' there—do +ye?" my uncle asked.</p> +<p>"That's what the Bible says," Aunt Deel answered.</p> +<p>"Wal the Bible—?" Uncle Peabody stopped. What was in his +mind we may only imagine.</p> +<p>To our astonishment the clock struck twelve.</p> +<p>"Hurrah! It's merry Christmas!" said Uncle Peabody as he jumped +to his feet and began to sing of the little Lord Jesus.</p> +<p>We joined him while he stood beating time with his right hand +after the fashion of a singing master.</p> +<p>"Off with yer boots, friend!" he exclaimed when the stanza was +finished. "We don't have to set up and watch like the +shepherds."</p> +<p>We drew our boots on the chair round with hands clasped over the +knee—how familiar is the process, and yet I haven't seen it +in more than half a century! I lighted a candle and scampered +up-stairs in my stocking feet, Uncle Peabody following close and +slapping my thigh as if my pace were not fast enough for him. In +the midst of our skylarking the candle tumbled to the floor and I +had to go back to the stove and relight it.</p> +<p>How good it seemed to be back in the old room under the +shingles! The heat of the stove-pipe had warmed its +hospitality.</p> +<p>"It's been kind o' lonesome here," said Uncle Peabody as he +opened the window. "I always let the wind come in to keep me +company—it gits so warm."</p> +<p>I lay down between flannel sheets on the old feather bed. What a +stage of dreams and slumbers it had been, for it was now serving +the third generation of Bayneses! The old popple tree had thrown +off its tinkling cymbals and now the winter wind hissed and +whistled in its stark branches. Then the deep, sweet sleep of youth +from which it is a joy and a regret to come back to the world +again. I wish that I could know it once more.</p> +<p>"Ye can't look at yer stockin' yit," said Aunt Deel when I came +down-stairs about eight o'clock, having slept through chore time. I +remember it was the delicious aroma of frying ham and buckwheat +cakes which awoke me, and who wouldn't rise and shake off the cloak +of slumber on a bright, cold winter morning with such +provocation?</p> +<p>"This ain't no common Chris'mas—I tell ye," Aunt Deel went +on. "Santa Claus won't git here short o' noon I wouldn't +wonder—ayes!"</p> +<p>"By thunder!" exclaimed Uncle Peabody as he sat down at the +table. "This is goin' to be a day o' pure fun—genuwine an' +uncommon. Take some griddlers," he added as three or four of them +fell on my plate. "Put on plenty o' ham gravy an' molasses. This +ain't no Jackman tavern. I got hold o' somethin' down there that +tasted so I had to swaller twice on it."</p> +<p>About eleven o'clock Uncle Hiram and Aunt Eliza and their five +children arrived with loud and merry greetings. Then came other +aunts and uncles and cousins. With what noisy good cheer the men +entered the house after they had put up their horses! I remember +how they laid their hard, heavy hands on my head and shook it a +little as they spoke of my "stretchin' up" or gave me a playful +slap on the shoulder—an ancient token of good will—the +first form of the accolade, I fancy. What joyful good humor there +was in those simple men and women!—enough to temper the woes +of a city if it could have been applied to their relief. They stood +thick around the stove warming themselves and taking off its +griddles and opening its doors and surveying it inside and out with +much curiosity.</p> +<p>Suddenly Uncle Hiram tried to put Uncle Jabez in the wood-box +while the others laughed noisily. I remember that my aunts rallied +me on my supposed liking for "that Dunkelberg girl."</p> +<p>"Now for the Chris'mas tree," said Uncle Peabody as he led the +way into our best room, where a fire was burning in the old +Franklin grate. "Come on, boys an' girls."</p> +<p>What a wonderful sight was the Christmas tree—the first we +had had in our house—a fine spreading balsam loaded with +presents! Uncle Hiram jumped into the air and clapped his feet +together and shouted: "Hold me, somebody, or I'll grab the hull +tree an' run away with it."</p> +<p>Uncle Jabez held one foot in both hands before him and joyfully +hopped around the tree.</p> +<p>These relatives had brought their family gifts, some days +before, to be hung on its branches. The thing that caught my eye +was a big silver watch hanging by a long golden chain to one of the +boughs. Uncle Peabody took it down and held it aloft by the chain, +so that none should miss the sight, saying:</p> +<p>"From Santa Claus for Bart!"</p> +<p>A murmur of admiration ran through the company which gathered +around me as I held the treasure in my trembling hands.</p> +<p>"This is for Bart, too," Uncle Peabody shouted as he took down a +bolt of soft blue cloth and laid it in my arms. "Now there's +somethin' that's jest about as slick as a kitten's ear. Feel of it. +It's for a suit o' clothes. Come all the way from Burlington."</p> +<p>"Good land o' Goshen! Don't be in such a hurry," said Aunt +Deel.</p> +<p>"Sorry, but the stage can't wait for nobody at all—it's +due to leave right off," Uncle Peabody remarked as he laid a +stuffed stocking on top of the cloth and gave me a playful slap and +shouted: "Get-ap, there. You've got yer load."</p> +<p>I moved out of the way in a hurricane of merriment. It was his +one great day of pride and vanity. He did not try to conceal +them.</p> +<p>The other presents floated for a moment in this irresistible +tide of laughing good will and found their owners. I have never +forgotten how Uncle Jabez chased Aunt Minerva around the house with +a wooden snake cunningly carved and colored. I observed there were +many things on the tree which had not been taken down when we +younger ones gathered up our wealth and repaired to Aunt Deel's +room to feast our eyes upon it and compare our good fortune.</p> +<p>The women and the big girls rolled up their sleeves and went to +work with Aunt Deel preparing the dinner. The great turkey and the +chicken pie were made ready and put in the oven and the potatoes +and the onions and the winter squash were soon boiling in their +pots on the stove-top. Meanwhile the children were playing in my +aunt's bedroom and Uncle Hiram and Uncle Jabez were pulling sticks +in a corner while the other men sat tipped against the wall +watching and making playful comments—all save my Uncle +Peabody, who was trying to touch his head to the floor and then +straighten up with the aid of the broomstick.</p> +<p>By and by I sat on top of the wood with which I had just filled +the big wood-box and very conscious of the shining chain on my +breast. Suddenly the giant, Rodney Barnes, jumped out of his chair +and, embracing the wood-box, lifted it and the wood and me in his +great arms and danced lightly around a group of the ladies with his +burden and set it down in its place again very gently. What a hero +he became in my eyes after that!</p> +<p>"If ye should go off some day an' come back an' find yer house +missin' ye may know that Rodney Barnes has been here," said Uncle +Hiram. "A man as stout as Rodney is about as dangerous as a +fire."</p> +<p>Then what Falstaffian peals of laughter!</p> +<p>In the midst of it Aunt Deel opened the front door and old Kate, +the Silent Woman, entered. To my surprise, she wore a +decent-looking dress of gray homespun cloth and a white cloud +looped over her head and ears and tied around her neck and a good +pair of boots.</p> +<p>"Merry Chris'mas!" we all shouted.</p> +<p>She smiled and nodded her head and sat down in the chair which +Uncle Peabody had placed for her at the stove side. Aunt Deel took +the cloud off her head while Kate drew her mittens—newly +knitted of the best yarn. Then my aunt brought some stockings and a +shawl from the tree and laid them on the lap of old Kate. What a +silence fell upon us as we saw tears coursing down the cheeks of +this lonely old woman of the countryside!—tears of joy, +doubtless, for God knows how long it had been since the poor, +abandoned soul had seen a merry Christmas and shared its kindness. +I did not fail to observe how clean her face and hands looked! She +was greatly changed.</p> +<p>She took my hand as I went to her side and tenderly caressed it. +A gentler smile came to her face than ever I had seen upon it. The +old stern look returned for a moment as she held one finger aloft +in a gesture which only I and my Aunt Deel understood. We knew it +signalized a peril and a mystery. That I should have to meet it, +somewhere up the hidden pathway, I had no doubt whatever.</p> +<p>"Dinner's ready!" exclaimed the cheerful voice of Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>Then what a stirring of chairs and feet as we sat down at the +table. Old Kate sat by the side of my aunt and we were all +surprised at her good manners.</p> +<p>Uncle Jabez—a member of the white church—prayed for +a moment as we sat with bowed heads. I have never forgotten his +simple eloquence as he prayed for the poor and for him who was +sitting in the shadow of death (I knew that he referred to Amos +Grimshaw and whispered amen) and for our forgiveness.</p> +<p>We jested and laughed and drank cider and reviewed the year's +history and ate as only they may eat who have big bones and muscles +and the vitality of oxen. I never taste the flavor of sage and +currant jelly or hear a hearty laugh without thinking of those +holiday dinners in the old log house on Rattleroad.</p> +<p>Some of the men and two of the women filled their pipes and +smoked while the dishes were being picked up and washed. By and by +the men and the big boys went with us down to the brook where we +chopped holes in the ice to give the sheep and the cattle a chance +to drink. Then they looked at the horses.</p> +<p>"Peabody you mus' be gittin' rich," said Hiram Bentley.</p> +<p>"No I ain't. I've had to give up here, but a little windfall +come to us t'other day from an old uncle in Vermont. It ain't +nothin' to brag of, but it'll give us a start an' we thought that +while we had the money we'd do somethin' that we've been wantin' to +do for years an' years—give a Chris'mas—an' we've done +it. The money'll go some way an' we may never have another chance. +Bart is a good boy an' we made up our minds he'd enjoy it better +now than he ever would ag'in."</p> +<p>That Christmas brought me nothing better than those words, the +memory of which is one of the tallest towers in that long avenue of +my past down which I have been looking these many days. About all +you can do for a boy, worth while, is to give him something good to +remember.</p> +<p>The day had turned dark. The temperature had risen and the air +was dank and chilly. The men began to hitch up their horses.</p> +<p>"Kind o' thawin' a little," said Uncle Hiram as he got into his +sleigh and drove up to the door. "Come on, there. Stop yer cacklin' +an' git into this sleigh," he shouted in great good humor to the +women and children who stood on the porch. "It'll be snowin' like +sixty 'fore we git home."</p> +<p>So, one by one, the sleighloads left us with cheery good-bys and +a grinding of runners and a jingling of bells. When the last had +gone Uncle Peabody and I went into the house. Aunt Deel sat by the +stove, old Kate by the window looking out at the falling dusk. How +still the house seemed!</p> +<p>"There's one thing I forgot," I said as I proudly took out of my +wallet the six one-dollar bills which I had earned by working +Saturdays and handed three of them to my aunt and three to my +uncle, saying:</p> +<p>"That is my Christmas present to you. I earned it myself."</p> +<p>I remember so well their astonishment and the trembling of their +hands and the look of their faces.</p> +<p>"It's grand—ayes!" Aunt Deel said in a low tone.</p> +<p>She rose in a moment and beckoned to me and my uncle. We +followed her through the open door to the other room.</p> +<p>"I'll tell ye what I'd do," she whispered. "I'd give 'em to ol' +Kate—ayes! She's goin' to stay with us till to-morrow."</p> +<p>"Good idee!" said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>So I took the money out of their hands and went in and gave it +to the Silent Woman.</p> +<p>"That's your present from me," I said.</p> +<p>How can I forget how she held my arm against her with that +loving, familiar, rocking motion of a woman who is soothing a baby +at her breast and kissed my coat sleeve? She released my arm and, +turning to the window, leaned her head upon its sill and shook with +sobs. The dusk had thickened. As I returned to my seat by the stove +I could dimly see her form against the light of the window. We sat +in silence for a little while.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel broke it by singing in a low tone as she rocked:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"My days are passing swiftly by<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And I—a pilgrim +stranger—</span><br /> +Would not detain them as they fly,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">These days of toil and +danger."</span></p></div> +<p>Uncle Peabody rose and got a candle and lighted it at the +hearth.</p> +<p>"Wal, Bart, we'll do the chores, an' then I warn ye that we're +goin' to have some fun," he said as he got his lantern. "There's +goin' to be some Ol' Sledge played here this evenin' an' I wouldn't +wonder if Kate could beat us all."</p> +<p>I held the lantern while Uncle Peabody fed the sheep and the two +cows and milked—a slight chore these winter days.</p> +<p>"There's nothing so cold on earth as a fork stale on a winter +night," he remarked as he was pitching the hay. "Wish I'd brought +my mittens."</p> +<p>"You and I are to go off to bed purty early," he said as we were +going back to the house. "Yer Aunt Deel wants to see Kate alone and +git her to talk if she can."</p> +<p>Kate played with us, smiling now and then at my uncle's merry +ways and words, but never speaking. It was poor fun, for the cards +seemed to take her away from us into other scenes so that she had +to be reminded of her turn to play.</p> +<p>"I dunno but she'll swing back into this world ag'in," said +Uncle Peabody when we had gone up to our little room. "I guess all +she needs is to be treated like a human bein'. Yer Aunt Deel an' I +couldn't git over thinkin' o' what she done for you that night in +the ol' barn. So I took some o' yer aunt's good clothes to her an' +a pair o' boots an' asked her to come to Chris'mas. She lives in a +little room over the blacksmith shop down to Butterfield's mill. I +told her I'd come after her with the cutter but she shook her head. +I knew she'd rather walk."</p> +<p>He was yawning as he spoke and soon we were both asleep under +the shingles.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>THE THING AND OTHER THINGS</h3> +<p>I returned to Mr. Hacket's house late in the afternoon of New +Year's day. The schoolmaster was lying on a big lounge in a corner +of their front room with the children about him. The dusk was +falling.</p> +<p>"Welcome, my laddie buck!" he exclaimed as I entered. "We're +telling stories o' the old year an' you're just in time for the +last o' them. Sit down, lad, and God give ye patience! It'll soon +be over."</p> +<p>Little John led me into the group and the schoolmaster +began:—Let us call this bit of a story: <i>The Guide to +Paradise</i>.</p> +<p>"One day in early June I was lyin' under the big apple tree in +the garden—sure I was. It was all white and sweet with the +blossoms like a bride in her veil—an' I heard the hum o' the +bee's wing an' odors o' the upper world come down to me. I was +lookin' at the little bird house that we had hung in the tree-top. +Of a sudden I saw a tiny bit o' a 'warf—no longer than the +thumb o' Mary—God love her!—on its wee porch an' +lookin' down at me.</p> +<p>"'Good luck to ye!' says I. 'Who are you?'</p> +<p>"'Who do ye think I am?' says he.</p> +<p>"'Nobody,' says I.</p> +<p>"'That's just who I am,' says he, 'I'm Nobody from +Nowhere—God save you from the like.'</p> +<p>"'Glad to see ye,' says I.</p> +<p>"'Glad to be seen,' says he. 'There's a mighty few people can +see me.'</p> +<p>"'Looks to me as if ye were tellin' the truth,' says I.</p> +<p>"'Nobody is the only one that always tells the truth—God +help ye,' says he. 'And here's a big chunk o' it. Not one in a +thousand ever gets the feet o' his mind in the land o' +Nowhere—better luck to them!'</p> +<p>"'Where is it?' says I.</p> +<p>"'Up above the earth where the great God keeps His fiddle,' says +he.</p> +<p>"'What fiddle?' says I.</p> +<p>"'The fiddle o' silence,' says he. 'Sure, I'm playin' it now. It +has long strings o' gold that reach 'way out across the land o' +Nowhere—ye call 'em stars. The winds and the birds play on +it. Sure, the birds are my hens.'</p> +<p>"He clapped his little hands and down came a robin and sat +beside him. Nobody rumpled up the feathers on her back and she +queed like she was goin' to peck me—the hussy!</p> +<p>"'She's my watch hen,' says Nobody. 'Guards the house and lays +eggs for me—the darlin'! Sure, I've a wonderful farm up here +in the air—millions o' acres, and the flowers and the tops o' +the trees and the gold mines o' the sky are in it. The flowers are +my cattle and the bees are my hired men. Do ye see 'em milkin' this +big herd o' apple-blossoms? My hired men carry their milk away to +the hollow trees and churn it into honey. There's towers and towers +of it in the land o' Nowhere. If it wasn't for Nowhere your country +would be as dark as a pocket and as dry as dust—sure it +would. Somewhere must be next to Nowhere—or it wouldn't be +anywhere, I'm thinkin'. All the light and rain and beauty o' the +world come out o' Nowhere—don't they? We have the widest +ocean up here with wonderful ships. I call it God's ferry. Ye see, +Nowhere is not to be looked down upon just because ye don't find it +in Mary's geography. There's lots o' things ye don't know, man. I'm +one o' them. What do ye think o' me?'</p> +<p>"'Sure, I like ye,' says I.</p> +<p>"'Lucky man!' says he. 'Everybody must learn to like me an' play +with me as the children do. I can get along with the little folks, +but it's hard to teach men how to play with me—God pity them! +They forget how to believe. I am the guide to paradise and unless +ye become as a little child I can not lead ye.'</p> +<p>"He ran to the edge o' the tree roof and took hold o' the end of +a long spider's rope hangin' down in the air. In a jiffy he swung +clear o' the tree and climbed, hand over hand, until he had gone +awa-a-a-a-y out o' sight in the sky."</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>"Couldn't anybody do that?" said little John.</p> +<p>"I didn't say they could—did I? ye unbeliever!" said the +schoolmaster as he rose and led us in to the supper table. "I said +Nobody did it."</p> +<p>We got him to tell this little tale over and over again in the +days that followed, and many times since then that impersonal and +mysterious guide of the schoolmaster's fancy has led me to +paradise.</p> +<p>After supper he got out his boxing-gloves and gave me a lesson +in the art of self-defense, in which, I was soon to learn, he was +highly accomplished, for we had a few rounds together every day +after that. He keenly enjoyed this form of exercise and I soon +began to. My capacity for taking punishment without flinching grew +apace and before long I got the knack of countering and that +pleased him more even than my work in school, I have sometimes +thought.</p> +<p>"God bless ye, boy!" he exclaimed one day after I had landed +heavily on his cheek, "ye've a nice way o' sneakin' in with yer +right. I've a notion ye may find it useful some day."</p> +<p>I wondered a little why he should say that, and while I was +wondering he felled me with a stinging blow on my nose.</p> +<p>"Ah, my lad—there's the best thing I have seen ye +do—get up an' come back with no mad in ye," he said as he +gave me his hand.</p> +<p>One day the schoolmaster called the older boys to the front +seats in his room and I among them.</p> +<p>"Now, boys, I'm going to ask ye what ye want to do in the +world," he said. "Don't be afraid to tell me what ye may never have +told before and I'll do what I can to help ye."</p> +<p>He asked each one to make confession and a most remarkable +exhibit of young ambition was the result. I remember that most of +us wanted to be statesmen—a fact due probably to the shining +example of Silas Wright. Then he said that on a certain evening he +would try "to show us the way over the mountains."</p> +<p>For some months I had been studying a book just published, +entitled, <i>Stenographic Sound-Hand</i> and had learned its +alphabet and practised the use of it. That evening I took down the +remarks of Mr. Hacket in sound-hand.</p> +<p>The academy chapel was crowded with the older boys and girls and +the town folk. The master never clipped his words in school as he +was wont to do when talking familiarly with the children.</p> +<p>"Since the leaves fell our little village has occupied the +center of the stage before an audience of millions in the great +theater of congress. Our leading citizen—the chief +actor—has been crowned with immortal fame. We who watched the +play were thrilled by the query: Will Uncle Sam yield to temptation +or cling to honor? He has chosen the latter course and we may still +hear the applause in distant galleries beyond the sea. He has +decided that the public revenues must be paid in honest money.</p> +<p>"My friend and classmate, George Bancroft, the historian, has +written this letter to me out of a full heart:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"'Your fellow townsman, Silas Wright, is now the largest figure +in Washington. We were all worried by the resolution of Henry Clay +until it began to crumble under the irresistible attack of Mr. +Wright. On the 16th he submitted a report upon it which for lucid +and accurate statements presented in the most unpretending manner, +won universal admiration and will be remembered alike for its +intrinsic excellence and for having achieved one of the most +memorable victories ever gained in the United States Senate. After +a long debate Clay himself, compelled by the irresistible force of +argument in the report of Mr. Wright, was obliged to retire from +his position, his resolution having been rejected by a vote of 44 +to 1.'"</p> +</div> +<p>With what pride and joy I heard of this great thing that my +friend had accomplished! The schoolmaster went on:</p> +<p>"It is a very good and proper thing, my boys, that you should be +inspired by the example of the great man, whose home is here among +us and whose beloved face is as familiar as my own, to try your +talents in the service of the state. There are certain things that +I would have you remember.</p> +<p>"<i>First</i>—Know your subject-inside and outside and +round about and from beginning to end.</p> +<p>"<i>Second</i>—Know the opinions of wise men and your own +regarding it.</p> +<p>"<i>Third</i>—Be modest in the use of your own opinions +and above all be honest.</p> +<p>"<i>Fourth</i>—Remember that it is your subject and not +yourself that is of prime importance. You will be tempted to think +that you are the great part of the business. My young friends, it +will not be true. It can not be true. It is not <i>you</i> but +<i>the thing you stand for</i> that is important.</p> +<p>"<i>Fifth</i>—The good of all the people must be the thing +you stand for—the United States of America.</p> +<p>"Now I wish you to observe how our great fellow townsman keeps +his subject to the fore and himself in the background.</p> +<p>"It was in 1834 that he addressed the Senate regarding the +deposits of public money. He rose to voice the wishes of the people +of this state. If he had seemed to be expressing his own opinions +he would have missed his great point. Now mark how he cast himself +aside when he began:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"'I must not be understood as, for one moment, entertaining the +vain impression that opinions and views pronounced by me, here or +elsewhere, will acquire any importance because they are my opinions +and views. I know well, sir, that my name carries not with it +authority anywhere, but I know, also, that so far as I may +entertain and shall express opinions which are, or which shall be +found, in accord with the enlightened public opinion of this +country, so far they will be sustained and no further.'</p> +</div> +<p>"Then by overwhelming proof he set forth the opinion of our +people on the subject in hand. Studiously the Senator has hidden +himself in his task and avoided in every possible way attracting +attention from his purposes to his personality.</p> +<p>"Invitations to accept public dinners as a compliment to himself +have received from him this kind of reply:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"'A proper attention to the duties, on the discharge of which +you so kindly desire to compliment me requires that I should +decline your invitation.'"</p> +</div> +<p>All this was new to me, although much more was said touching his +love for simple folk regarding which I needed no instruction. +Altogether, it helped me to feel the deep foundations on which my +friend, the Senator, had been building in his public life.</p> +<p>Going out with the crowd that evening, I met Sally and Mr. and +Mrs. Dunkelberg. The latter did not speak to me and when I asked +Sally if I could walk home with her she answered curtly, "No, thank +you."</p> +<p>In following the schoolmaster I have got a bit ahead of my +history. Soon after the opening of the new year—ten days or +so later it may have been—I had begun to feel myself +encompassed by a new and subtle force. It was a thing as intangible +as heat but as real as fire and more terrible, it seemed to me. I +felt it first in the attitude of my play fellows. They denied me +the confidence and intimacy which I had enjoyed before. They +whispered together in my presence. In all this I had not failed to +observe that Henry Wills had taken a leading part. The invisible, +inaudible, mysterious thing wrought a great change in me. It +followed me through the day and lay down with me at night. I +wondered what I had done. I carefully surveyed my clothes. They +looked all right to me. My character was certainly no worse than it +had been. How it preyed upon my peace and rest and +happiness—that mysterious hidden thing!</p> +<p>One day Uncle Peabody came down to see me and I walked through +the village with him. We met Mr. Dunkelberg, who merely nodded and +hurried along. Mr. Bridges, the merchant, did not greet him warmly +and chat with him as he had been wont to do. I saw that The +Thing—as I had come to think of it—was following him +also. How it darkened his face! Even now I can feel the aching of +the deep, bloodless wounds of that day. I could bear it better +alone. We were trying to hide our pain from each other when we said +good-by. How quickly my uncle turned away and walked toward the +sheds! He came rarely to the village of Canton after that.</p> +<p>I was going home at noon one day and while passing a crowd of +boys I was shoved rudely into the fence. Turning, I saw Henry Wills +and my fist flashed to his face. He fell backward and rising called +me a thief and the son of a thief. He had not finished the words +when I was upon him. The others formed a ring around us and we +began a savage battle. One of Wills' friends tried to trip me. In +the midst of it I saw the schoolmaster just outside the ring. He +seized a boy by the collar.</p> +<p>"There'll be no more interference," said he. "It's goin' to be a +fair fight."</p> +<p>I had felt another unfriendly foot but had not seen its owner. +We fought up and down, with lips and noses bleeding. At last the +time had come when I was quicker and stronger than he. Soon Henry +Wills lay on the ground before me with no disposition to go on with +the fight. I helped him up and he turned away from me. Some of the +boys began to jeer him.</p> +<p>"He's a gentleman compared with the rest o' you," I said. "He +had courage enough to say what he thought. There's not another one +o' you would dare do it—not a one o' you."</p> +<p>Then said the schoolmaster:</p> +<p>"If there's any more o' you boys that has any such opinion o' +Bart Baynes let him be man enough to step up an' say it now. If he +don't he ought to be man enough to change his mind on the +spot."</p> +<p>A number of the boys and certain of the townsfolk who had +gathered about us clapped their hands. For a long time thereafter I +wondered why Henry had called me a thief. I concluded that it was +because "thief" was the meanest word he could think of in his +anger. However that might be, The Thing forsook me. I felt no more +its cold, mysterious shadow between me and my school fellows. It +had stepped out of my path into that of Henry Wills. His popularity +waned and a lucky circumstance it was for him. From that day he +began to take to his books and to improve his standing in the +school.</p> +<p>I observed that he did not go about with Sally as he had done. I +had had no word with her since the night of Mr. Hacket's lecture +save the briefest greeting as we passed each other in the street. +Those fine winter days I used to see her riding a chestnut pony +with a long silver mane that flowed back to her yellow curls in his +lope. I loved the look of her as she went by me in the saddle and a +longing came into my heart that she should think well of me. I made +an odd resolve. It was this: I would make it impossible for her to +think ill of me.</p> +<p>I went home one Saturday, having thought much of my aunt and +uncle since The Thing had descended upon us. I found them well and +as cheerful as ever. For fear of disturbing their peace I said +nothing of my fight with Wills or the cause of it. Uncle Peabody +had cut the timber for our new house and hauled it to the mill. I +returned to school in a better mind about them.</p> +<p>May had returned—a warm bright May. The roads were dry. +The thorn trees had thatched their shapely roofs with vivid green. +The maple leaves were bigger than a squirrel's foot, which meant as +well, I knew, that the trout were jumping. The robins had returned. +I had entered my seventeenth year and the work of the term was +finished.</p> +<div class="figcenter"><br /> +<a href="images/illus292.jpg"><img src="images/illus292.jpg" width= +"50%" alt="" title="" /></a><br /> +<b>She stopped the pony and leaned toward me.</b></div> +<p>Having nothing to do one afternoon, I walked out on the road +toward Ogdensburg for a look at the woods and fields. Soon I +thought that I heard the sound of galloping hoofs behind me. +Turning, I saw nothing, but imagined Sally coming and pulling up at +my side. I wondered what I should say if she were really to +come.</p> +<p>"Sally!" I exclaimed. "I have been looking at the violets and +the green fields and back there I saw a thorn tree turning white, +but I have seen no fairer thing than you."</p> +<p>They surprised me a little—those fine words that came so +easily. What a school of talk was the house I lived in those +days!</p> +<p>"I guess I'm getting Mr. Hacket's gift o' gab," I said to +myself.</p> +<p>Again I heard the sound of galloping hoofs and as I looked back +I saw Sally rounding the turn by the river and coming toward me at +full speed, the mane of her pony flying back to her face. She +pulled up beside me just as I had imagined she would do.</p> +<p>"Bart, I hate somebody terribly," said she.</p> +<p>"Whom?"</p> +<p>"A man who is coming to our house on the stage to-day. Granny +Barnes is trying to get up a match between us. Father says he is +rich and hopes he will want to marry me. I got mad about it. He is +four years older than I am. Isn't that awful? I am going to be just +as mean and hateful to him as I can."</p> +<p>"I guess they're only fooling you," I said.</p> +<p>"No, they mean it. I have heard them talking it over."</p> +<p>"He can not marry you."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>It seemed to me that the time had come for me to speak out, and +with burning cheeks I said:</p> +<p>"Because I think that God has married you to me already. Do you +remember when we kissed each other by the wheat-field one day last +summer?"</p> +<p>"Yes." She was looking down at the mane of her pony and her +cheeks were red and her voice reminded me of the echoes that fill +the cavern of a violin when a string is touched.</p> +<p>"Seems to me we were married that day. Seems so, every time I +think of it, God asked me all the questions an' I answered yes to +'em. Do ye remember after we had kissed each other how that little +bird sang?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>We had faced about and were walking back toward Canton, I close +by the pony's side.</p> +<p>"May I kiss you again?"</p> +<p>She stopped the pony and leaned toward me and our lips met in a +kiss the thought of which makes me lay down my pen and bow my head +a moment while I think with reverence of that pure, sweet spring of +memory in whose waters I love to wash my spirit.</p> +<p>We walked on and a song sparrow followed us perching on the +fence-rails and blessing us with his song.</p> +<p>"I guess God has married us again," I declared.</p> +<p>"I knew that you were walking on this road and I had to see +you," said she. "People have been saying such terrible things."</p> +<p>"What?"</p> +<p>"They say your uncle found the pocketbook that was lost and kept +the money. They say he was the first man that went up the road +after it was lost."</p> +<p>Now The Thing stood uncovered before me in all its +ugliness—The Thing born not of hate but of the mere love of +excitement in people wearied by the dull routine and the reliable, +plodding respectability of that countryside. The crime of Amos had +been a great help in its way but as a topic it was worn out and +would remain so until court convened.</p> +<p>"It's a lie—my uncle never saw the pocketbook. Some money +was left to him by a relative in Vermont. That's how it happened +that he bought a farm instead of going to the poorhouse when +Grimshaw put the screws on him."</p> +<p>"I knew that your uncle didn't do it," she went on. "Father and +mother couldn't tell you. So I had to."</p> +<p>"Why couldn't your father and mother tell me?"</p> +<p>"They didn't dare. Mr. Grimshaw made them promise that they +would not speak to you or to any of your family. I heard them say +that you and your uncle did right. Father told mother that he never +knew a man so honest as your Uncle Peabody."</p> +<p>We went on in silence for a moment.</p> +<p>"I guess you know now why I couldn't let you go home with me +that night," she remarked.</p> +<p>"Yes, and I think I know why you wouldn't have anything more to +do with Henry Wills."</p> +<p>"I hate him. He said such horrid things about you and your +uncle."</p> +<p>In a moment she asked: "What time is it?"</p> +<p>I looked at my new watch and answered: "It wants ten minutes of +five."</p> +<p>"The stage is in long ago. They will be coming up this road to +meet me. Father was going to take him for a walk before +supper."</p> +<p>Just then we came upon the Silent Woman sitting among the +dandelions by the roadside. She held a cup in her hand with some +honey on its bottom and covered with a piece of glass.</p> +<p>"She is hunting bees," I said as we stopped beside her.</p> +<p>She rose and patted my shoulder with a smile and threw a kiss to +Sally. Suddenly her face grew stern. She pointed toward the village +and then at Sally. Up went her arm high above her head with one +finger extended in that ominous gesture so familiar to me.</p> +<p>"She means that there is some danger ahead of you," I said.</p> +<p>The Silent Woman picked a long blade of grass and tipped its end +in the honey at the bottom of the cup. She came close to Sally with +the blade of grass between her thumb and finger.</p> +<p>"She is fixing a charm," I said.</p> +<p>She smiled and nodded as she put a drop of honey on Sally's +upper lip.</p> +<p>She held up her hands while her lips moved as if she were +blessing us.</p> +<p>"I suppose it will not save me if I brush it off," said +Sally.</p> +<p>We went on and in a moment a bee lighted on the honey. Nervously +she struck at it and then cried out with pain.</p> +<p>"The bee has stung you," I said.</p> +<p>She covered her face with her handkerchief and made no +answer.</p> +<p>"Wait a minute—I'll get some clay," I said as I ran to the +river bank.</p> +<p>I found some clay and moistened it with the water and +returned.</p> +<p>"There, look at me!" she groaned. "The bee hit my nose."</p> +<p>She uncovered her face, now deformed almost beyond recognition, +her nose having swollen to one of great size and redness.</p> +<p>"You look like Rodney Barnes," I said with a laugh as I applied +the clay to her afflicted nose.</p> +<p>"And I feel like the old boy. I think my nose is trying to jump +off and run away."</p> +<p>The clay having been well applied she began surveying herself +with a little hand mirror which she had carried in the pocket of +her riding coat.</p> +<p>"What a fright I am!" she mused.</p> +<p>"But you are the best girl in the world."</p> +<p>"Don't waste your pretty talk on me now. I can't enjoy +it—my nose aches so. I'd rather you'd tell me when—when +it is easier for you to say it."</p> +<p>"We don't see each other very often."</p> +<p>"If you will come out on this road next Saturday afternoon I +will ride until I find you and then we can have another talk."</p> +<p>"All right. I'll be here at four-thirty and I'll be thinking +about it every day until then."</p> +<p>"My nose feels better now," she said presently and added: "You +might tell me a little more if you want to."</p> +<p>"I love you even when you have ceased to be beautiful," I said +with the ardor of the young.</p> +<p>"That is grand! You know old age will sting us by and by, Bart," +she answered with a sigh and in a tone of womanly wisdom.</p> +<p>We were nearing the village. She wiped the mud from her +prodigious nose and I wet her handkerchief in a pool of water and +helped her to wash it. Soon we saw two men approaching us in the +road. In a moment I observed that one was Mr. Horace Dunkelberg; +the other a stranger and a remarkably handsome young man he was, +about twenty-two years of age and dressed in the height of fashion. +I remember so well his tall, athletic figure, his gray eyes, his +small dark mustache and his admirable manners. Both were appalled +at the look of Sally.</p> +<p>"Why, girl, what has happened to you?" her father asked.</p> +<p>Then I saw what a playful soul was Sally's. The girl was a born +actress.</p> +<p>"Been riding in the country," said she. "Is this Mr. +Latour?"</p> +<p>"This is Mr. Latour, Sally," said her father.</p> +<p>They shook hands.</p> +<p>"I am glad to see you," said the stranger.</p> +<p>"They say I am worth seeing," said Sally. "This is my friend, +Mr. Baynes. When you are tired of seeing me, look at him."</p> +<p>I shook the hand he offered me.</p> +<p>"Of course, we can't all be good looking," Sally remarked with a +sigh, as if her misfortune were permanent.</p> +<p>Mr. Horace Dunkelberg and I laughed heartily—for I had +told him in a whisper what had happened to Sally—while Mr. +Latour looked a little embarrassed.</p> +<p>"My face is not beautiful, but they say that I have a good +heart," Sally assured the stranger.</p> +<p>They started on. I excused myself and took a trail through the +woods to another road. Just there, with Sally waving her hand to me +as I stood for a moment in the edge of the woods, the curtain falls +on this highly romantic period of my life.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody came for me that evening. It was about the middle +of the next week that I received this letter from Sally:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR BART—Mr. Latour gave up and drove to Potsdam in the +evening. Said he had to meet Mr. Parish. I think that he had seen +enough of me. I began to hope he would stay—he was so good +looking, but mother is very glad that he went, and so am I, for our +minister told us that he is one of the wickedest young men in the +state. He is very rich and very bad, they say. I wonder if old Kate +knew about him. Her charm worked well anyway—didn't it? My +nose was all right in the morning. Sorry that I can't meet you +Saturday. Mother and I are packing up to go away for the summer. +Don't forget me. I shall be thinking every day of those lovely +things you said to me. I don't know what they will try to do with +me, and I don't care. I really think as you do, Bart, that God has +married us to each other.</p> +<p>"Yours forever,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">"SALLY DUNKELBERG."</span></p> +</div> +<p>How often I read those words—so like all the careless +words of the young!</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>THE BOLT FALLS</h3> +<p>Three times that winter I had seen Benjamin Grimshaw followed by +the Silent Woman clothed in rags and pointing with her finger. Mr. +Hacket said that she probably watched for him out of her little +window above the blacksmith shop that overlooked the south road. +When he came to town she followed. I always greeted the woman when +I passed her, but when she was on the trail of the money-lender she +seemed unaware of my presence, so intent was she on the strange +task she had set herself. If he were not in sight she smiled when +passing me, but neither spoke nor nodded.</p> +<p>Grimshaw had gone about his business as usual when I saw him +last, but I had noted a look of the worried rat in his face. He had +seemed to be under extreme irritation. He scolded every man who +spoke to him. The notion came to me that her finger was getting +down to the quick.</p> +<p>The trial of Amos came on. He had had "blood on his feet," as +they used to say, all the way from Lickitysplit to Lewis County in +his flight, having attacked and slightly wounded two men with a +bowie knife who had tried to detain him at Rainy Lake. He had also +shot at an officer in the vicinity of Lowville, where his arrest +was effected. He had been identified by all these men, and so his +character as a desperate man had been established. This in +connection with the scar on his face and the tracks, which the +boots of Amos fitted, and the broken gun stock convinced the jury +of his guilt.</p> +<p>The most interesting bit of testimony which came out at the +trial was this passage from a yellow paper-covered tale which had +been discovered hidden in the haymow of the Grimshaw barn:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Lightfoot waited in the bushes with his trusty rifle in hand. +When the two unsuspecting travelers reached a point nearly opposite +him he raised his rifle and glanced over its shining barrel and saw +that the flight of his bullet would cut the throats of both his +persecutors. He pulled the trigger and the bullet sped to its mark. +Both men plunged to the ground as if they had been smitten by a +thunderbolt. Lightfoot leaped from cover and seized the rearing +horses, and mounting one of them while he led the other, headed +them down the trail, and in no great hurry, for he knew that the +lake was between him and Blodgett and that the latter's boat was in +no condition to hold water."</p> +</div> +<p>It was the swift and deadly execution of Lightfoot which Amos +had been imitating, as he presently confessed.</p> +<p>I knew then the power of words—even foolish +words—over the minds of the young when they are printed and +spread abroad.</p> +<p>I remember well the look of the venerable Judge Cady as he +pronounced the sentence of death upon Amos Grimshaw. A ray of +sunlight slanting through a window in the late afternoon fell upon +his gracious countenance, shining also, with the softer light of +his spirit. Slowly, solemnly, kindly, he spoke the words of doom. +It was his way of saying them that first made me feel the dignity +and majesty of the law. The kind and fatherly tone of his voice put +me in mind of that Supremest Court which is above all question and +which was swiftly to enter judgment in this matter and in others +related to it.</p> +<p>Slowly the crowd moved out of the court room. Benjamin Grimshaw +rose and calmly whispered to his lawyer. He had not spoken to his +son or seemed to notice him since the trial had begun, nor did he +now. Many had shed tears that day, but not he. Mr. Grimshaw never +showed but one emotion—that of anger. He was angry now. His +face was hard and stern. He muttered as he walked out of the court +room, his cane briskly beating the floor. I and others followed +him, moved by differing motives. I was sorry for him and if I had +dared I should have told him that. I was amazed to see how sturdily +he stood under this blow—like a mighty oak in a storm. The +look of him thrilled me—it suggested that something was going +to happen.</p> +<p>The Silent Woman—as ragged as ever—was waiting on +the steps. Out went her bony finger as he came down. He turned and +struck at her with his cane and shouted in a shrill voice that rang +out like a trumpet in his frenzy:</p> +<p>"<i>Go 'way from me. Take her away, somebody. I can't stan' it. +She's killin' me. Take her away. Take her away. Take her +away.</i>"</p> +<p>His face turned purple and then white. He reeled and fell +headlong, like a tree severed from its roots, and lay still on the +hard, stone pavement. It seemed as if snow were falling on his +face—it grew so white. The Silent Woman stood as still as he, +pointing at him with her finger, her look unchanged. People came +running toward us. I lifted the head of Mr. Grimshaw and laid it on +my knee. It felt like the head of the stranger in Rattleroad. Old +Kate bent over and looked at the eyelids of the man, which +fluttered faintly and were still.</p> +<p>"Dead!" she muttered.</p> +<p>Then, as if her work were finished, she turned and made her way +through the crowd and walked slowly down the street. Men stood +aside to let her pass, as if they felt the power of her spirit and +feared the touch of her garments.</p> +<p>Two or three men had run to the house of the nearest doctor. The +crowd thickened. As I sat looking down at the dead face in my lap, +a lawyer who had come out of the court room pressed near me and +bent over and looked at the set eyes of Benjamin Grimshaw and +said:</p> +<p>"She floored him at last. I knew she would. He tried not to see +her, but I tell ye that bony old finger of hers burnt a hole in +him. He couldn't stand it. I knew he'd blow up some day under the +strain. She got him at last."</p> +<p>"Who got him?" another asked.</p> +<p>"Rovin' Kate. She killed him pointing her finger at +him—so."</p> +<p>"She's got an evil eye. Everybody's afraid o' the crazy ol' +Trollope!"</p> +<p>"Nonsense! She isn't half as crazy as the most of us," said the +lawyer. "In my opinion she had a good reason for pointing her +finger at that man. She came from the same town he did over in +Vermont. Ye don't know what happened there."</p> +<p>The doctor arrived. The crowds made way for him. He knelt beside +the still figure and made the tests. He rose and shook his head, +saying:</p> +<p>"It's all over. Let one o' these boys go down and bring the +undertaker."</p> +<p>Benjamin Grimshaw, the richest man in the township, was dead, +and I have yet to hear of any mourners.</p> +<p>Three days later I saw his body lowered into its grave. The +little, broken-spirited wife stood there with the same sad smile on +her face that I had noted when I first saw her in the hills. Rovin' +Kate was there in the clothes she had worn Christmas day. She was +greatly changed. Her hair was neatly combed. The wild look had left +her eyes. She was like one whose back is relieved of a heavy +burden. Her lips moved as she scattered little red squares of paper +into the grave. I suppose they thought it a crazy whim of +hers—they who saw her do it. I thought that I understood the +curious bit of symbolism and so did the schoolmaster, who stood +beside me. Doubtless the pieces of paper numbered her curses.</p> +<p>"The scarlet sins of his youth are lying down with him in the +dust," Hacket whispered as we walked away together.</p> +<h3>END OF BOOK TWO</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="BOOK_THREE" id="BOOK_THREE"></a>BOOK THREE</h2> +<h3>Which is the Story of the Chosen Ways</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>UNCLE PEABODY'S WAY AND MINE</h3> +<p>I am old and love my ease and sometimes dare to think that I +have earned it. Why do I impose upon myself the task of writing +down these memories, searching them and many notes and records with +great care so that in every voice and deed the time shall speak? My +first care has been that neither vanity nor pride should mar a word +of all these I have written or shall write. So I keep my name from +you, dear reader, for there is nothing you can give me that I want. +I have learned my lesson in that distant time and, having learned +it, give you the things I stand for and keep myself under a mask. +These things urge me to my task. I do it that I may give to +you—my countrymen—the best fruitage of the great garden +of my youth and save it from the cold storage of unknowing +history.</p> +<p>It is a bad thing to be under a heavy obligation to one's self +of which, thank God, I am now acquitted. I have known men who were +their own worst creditors. Everything they earned went swiftly to +satisfy the demands of Vanity or Pride or Appetite. I have seen +them literally put out of house and home, thrown neck and crop into +the street, as it were, by one or the other of these heartless +creditors—each a grasping usurer with unjust claims.</p> +<p>I remember that Rodney Barnes called for my chest and me that +fine morning in early June when I was to go back to the hills, my +year's work in school being ended. I elected to walk, and the +schoolmaster went with me five miles or more across the flats to +the slope of the high country. I felt very wise with that year's +learning in my head. Doubtless the best of it had come not in +school. It had taken me close to the great stage and in a way +lifted the curtain. I was most attentive, knowing that presently I +should get my part.</p> +<p>"I've been thinking, Bart, o' your work in the last year," said +the schoolmaster as we walked. "Ye have studied six books and +one—God help ye! An' I think ye have got more out o' the one +than ye have out o' the six."</p> +<p>In a moment of silence that followed I counted the books on my +fingers: Latin, Arithmetic, Algebra, Grammar, Geography, History. +What was this one book he referred to?</p> +<p>"It's God's book o' life, boy, an' I should say ye'd done very +well in it."</p> +<p>After a little he asked: "Have ye ever heard of a man who had +the Grimshaws?"</p> +<p>I shook my head as I looked at him, not knowing just what he was +driving at.</p> +<p>"Sure, it's a serious illness an' it has two phases. First +there's the Grimshaw o' greed—swinish, heartless +greed—the other is the Grimshaw o' vanity—the strutter, +with sword at belt, who would have men bow or flee before him."</p> +<p>That is all he said of that seventh book and it was enough.</p> +<p>"Soon the Senator will be coming," he remarked presently. "I +have a long letter from him and he asks about you and your aunt and +uncle. I think that he is fond o' you, boy."</p> +<p>"I wish you would let me know when he comes," I said.</p> +<p>"I am sure he will let you know, and, by the way, I have heard +from another friend o' yours, my lad. Ye're a lucky one to have so +many friends—sure ye are. Here, I'll show ye the letter. +There's no reason why I shouldn't. Ye will know its writer, +probably. I do not."</p> +<p>So saying he handed me this letter:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"CANTERBURY, VT.,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 5.5em;">June 1.</span></p> +<p>"DEAR SIR—I am interested in the boy Barton Baynes. Good +words about him have been flying around like pigeons. When school +is out I would like to hear from you, what is the record? What do +you think of the soul in him? What kind of work is best for it? If +you will let me maybe I can help the plans of God a little. That is +my business and yours. Thanking you for reading this, I am, as +ever,</p> +<p>"God's humble servant,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 6.5em;">KATE FULLERTON."</span></p> +</div> +<p>"Why, this is the writing of the Silent Woman," I said before I +had read the letter half through.</p> +<p>"Rovin' Kate?"</p> +<p>"Roving Kate; I never knew her other name, but I saw her +handwriting long ago."</p> +<p>"But look—this is a neatly written, well-worded letter an' +the sheet is as white and clean as the new snow. Uncanny woman! +They say she carries the power o' God in her right hand. So do all +the wronged. I tell ye, lad, there's only one thing in the world +that's sacred."</p> +<p>I turned to him with a look of inquiry and asked:</p> +<p>"What is it?"</p> +<p>"The one and only miracle we know-the gate o' birth through +which comes human life and the lips commanding our love and +speaking the wisdom of childhood. Show me how a man treats women +an' I'll tell ye what he amounts to. There's the test that shows +whether he's a man or a spaniel dog."</p> +<p>There was a little moment of silence then—how well I +remember it! The schoolmaster broke the silence by adding:</p> +<p>"Well ye know, lad, I think the greatest thing that Jesus Christ +did was showing to a wicked world the sanctity o' motherhood."</p> +<p>That, I think, was the last lesson in the school year. Just +beyond us I could see the slant of Bowman's Hill. What an amount of +pains they gave those days to the building of character! It will +seem curious and perhaps even wearisome now, but it must show here +if I am to hold the mirror up to the time.</p> +<p>"I wonder why Kate is asking about me," I said.</p> +<p>"Never mind the reason. She is your friend and let us thank God +for it. Think how she came to yer help in the old barn an' say a +thousand prayers, my lad. I shall write to her to-day, and what +shall I say as to the work?"</p> +<p>"Well, I've been consulting the compass," I answered +thoughtfully, as I looked down at the yielding sand under my feet. +"I think that I want to be a lawyer."</p> +<p>"Good! I would have guessed it. I suppose your week in the court +room with the fine old judge and the lawyers settled that for +ye."</p> +<p>"I think that it did."</p> +<p>"Well, the Senator is a lawyer, God prosper him, an' he has +shown us that the chief business o' the lawyer is to keep men out +o' the law."</p> +<p>Having come to the first flight of the uplands, he left me with +many a kind word—how much they mean to a boy who is choosing +his way with a growing sense of loneliness!</p> +<p>I reached the warm welcome of our little home just in time for +dinner. They were expecting me and it was a regular company +dinner—chicken pie and strawberry shortcake.</p> +<p>"I wallered in the grass all the forenoon tryin' to git enough +berries for this celebration—ayes!—they ain't many of +'em turned yit," said Aunt Deel. "No, sir—nothin' but pure +cream on this cake. I ain't a goin' to count the expense."</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody danced around the table and sang a stanza of the +old ballad, which I have forgotten, but which begins:</p> +<p><i>Come, Philander, let us be a-marchin'.</i></p> +<p>How well I remember that hour with the doors open and the sun +shining brightly on the blossoming fields and the joy of man and +bird and beast in the return of summer and the talk about the late +visit of Alma Jones and Mr. and Mrs. Lincoln!</p> +<p>While we were eating I told them about the letter of old +Kate.</p> +<p>"Fullerton!" Aunt Deel exclaimed. "Are ye sure that was the +name, Bart?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Goodness gracious sakes alive!"</p> +<p>She and Uncle Peabody gave each other looks of surprised +inquiry.</p> +<p>"Do you know anybody by that name?" I asked.</p> +<p>"We used to," said Aunt Deel as she resumed her eating. "Can't +be she's one o' the Sam Fullertons, can it?"</p> +<p>"Oh, prob'ly not," said Uncle Peabody. "Back east they's more +Fullertons than ye could shake a stick at. Say, I see the biggest +bear this mornin' that I ever see in all the born days o' my +life.</p> +<p>"It was dark. I'd come out o' the fifty-mile woods an' down +along the edge o' the ma'sh an' up into the bushes on the lower +side o' the pastur. All to once I heerd somethin'! I stopped an' +peeked through the bushes—couldn't see much—so dark. +Then the ol' bear riz up on her hind legs clus to me. We didn't +like the looks o' one 'nother an' begun to edge off very +careful.</p> +<p>"Seems so I kind o' said to the ol' bear: 'Excuse me.'</p> +<p>"Seems so the ol' bear kind o' answered: 'Sart'nly.'</p> +<p>"I got down to a little run, near by, steppin' as soft as a cat. +I could just see a white stun on the side o' it. I lifted my foot +to step on the stun an' jump acrost. B-r-r-r-r! The stun jumped up +an' scampered through the bushes. Then I <i>was</i> scairt. +Goshtalmighty! I lost confidence in everything. Seemed so all the +bushes turned into bears. Jeerusalem, how I run! When I got to the +barn I was purty nigh used up."</p> +<p>"How did it happen that the stone jumped?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Oh, I guess 't was a rabbit," said Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>Thus Uncle Peabody led us off into the trail of the bear and the +problem of Kate and the Sam Fullertons concerned us no more at that +time.</p> +<p>A week later we had our raising. Uncle Peabody did not want a +public raising, but Aunt Deel had had her way. We had hewed and +mortised and bored the timbers for our new home. The neighbors came +with pikes and helped to raise and stay and cover them. A great +amount of human kindness went into the beams and rafters of that +home and of others like it. I knew that The Thing was still alive +in the neighborhood, but even that could not paralyze the helpful +hands of those people. Indeed, what was said of my Uncle Peabody +was nothing more or less than a kind of conversational firewood. I +can not think that any one really believed it.</p> +<p>We had a cheerful day. A barrel of hard cider had been set up in +the dooryard, and I remember that some drank it too freely. The +he-o-hee of the men as they lifted on the pikes and the sound of +the hammer and beetle rang in the air from morning until night. +Mrs. Rodney Barnes and Mrs. Dorothy came to help Aunt Deel with the +cooking and a great dinner was served on an improvised table in the +dooryard, where the stove was set up. The shingles and sheathes and +clapboards were on before the day ended.</p> +<p>When they were about to go the men filled their cups and drank +to Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>I knew, or thought I knew, why they had not mentioned my Uncle +Peabody, and was very thoughtful about it. Suddenly the giant +Rodney Barnes strode up to the barrel. I remember the lion-like +dignity of his face as he turned and said:</p> +<p>"Now, boys, come up here an' stand right before me, every one o' +you."</p> +<p>He ranged them in a circle around the barrel. He stood at the +spigot and filled every cup. Then he raised his own and said:</p> +<p>"I want ye to drink to Peabody Baynes—one o' the squarest +men that ever stood in cowhide."</p> +<p>They drank the toast—not one of them would have dared +refuse.</p> +<p>"Now three cheers for the new home and every one that lives in +it," he demanded.</p> +<p>They cheered lustily and went away.</p> +<p>Uncle Peabody and I put in the floors and stairway and +partitions. More than once in the days we were working together I +tried to tell him what Sally had told me, but my courage +failed.</p> +<p>We moved our furniture. I remember that Uncle Peabody called it +"the houseltree." We had greased paper on the windows for a time +after we moved until the sash came. Aunt Deel had made rag carpets +for the parlor and the bedroom which opened off it. Our windows +looked down into the great valley of the St. Lawrence, stretching +northward thirty miles or more from our hilltop. A beautiful grove +of sugar maples stood within a stone's throw of the back door.</p> +<p>What a rustic charm in the long slant of the green hill below us +with its gray, mossy boulders and lovely thorn trees! It was, I +think, a brighter, pleasanter home than that we had left. It was +built on the cellar of one burned a few years before. The old barn +was still there and a little repairing had made it do.</p> +<p>The day came, shortly, when I had to speak out, and I took the +straight way of my duty as the needle of the compass pointed. It +was the end of a summer day and we had watched the dusk fill the +valley and come creeping up the slant, sinking the boulders and +thorn tops in its flood, one by one. As we sat looking out of the +open door that evening I told them what Sally had told me of the +evil report which had traveled through the two towns. Uncle Peabody +sat silent and perfectly motionless for a moment, looking out into +the dusk.</p> +<p>"W'y, of all things! Ain't that an awful burnin' shame-ayes!" +said Aunt Deel as she covered her face with her hand.</p> +<p>"Damn, little souled, narrer contracted—" Uncle Peabody, +speaking in a low, sad tone, but with deep feeling, cut off this +highly promising opinion before it was half expressed, and rose and +went to the water pail and drank.</p> +<p>"As long as we're honest we don't care what they say," he +remarked as he returned to his chair.</p> +<p>"If they won't believe us we ought to show 'em the +papers—ayes," said Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>"Thunder an' Jehu! I wouldn't go 'round the town tryin' to prove +that I ain't a thief," said Uncle Peabody. "It wouldn't make no +differ'nce. They've got to have somethin' to play with. If they +want to use my name for a bean bag let 'em as long as they do it +when I ain't lookin'. I wouldn't wonder if they got sore hands by +an' by."</p> +<p>I never heard him speak of it again. Indeed, although I knew the +topic was often in our thoughts it was never mentioned in our home +but once after that, to my knowledge.</p> +<p>We sat for a long time thinking as the night came on. By and by +Uncle Peabody began the hymn in which we joined:</p> +<p>"Oh, keep my heart from sadness, God;<br /> +Let not its sorrows stay,<br /> +Nor shadows of the night erase<br /> +The glories of the day."</p> +<p>"Say—by thunder!—we don't have to set in the +shadows. Le's fill the room with the glory of the day," said Uncle +Peabody as he lighted the candles. "It ain't a good idee to go +slidin' down hill in the summer-time an' in the dark, too. Le's +have a game o' cards."</p> +<p>I remember that we had three merry games and went to bed. All +outward signs of our trouble had vanished in the glow of the +candles.</p> +<p>Next day I rode to the post-office and found there a book +addressed to me in the handwriting of old Kate. It was David +Hoffman's <i>Course of Legal Study</i>. She had written on its +fly-leaf:</p> +<p>"To Barton Baynes, from a friend."</p> +<p>"That woman 'pears to like you purty thorough," said Uncle +Peabody.</p> +<p>"Well, let her if she wants to—poor thing!" Aunt Deel +answered. "A woman has got to have somebody to +like—ayes!—or I dunno how she'd live—I declare I +don't—ayes!"</p> +<p>"I like her, too," I said. "She's been a good friend to me."</p> +<p>"She has, sart'n," my uncle agreed.</p> +<p>We began reading the book that evening in the candle-light and +soon finished it. I was thrilled by the ideal of human service with +which the calling of the lawyer was therein lifted up and +illuminated. After that I had no doubt of my way.</p> +<p>That week a letter came to me from the Senator, announcing the +day of Mrs. Wright's arrival in Canton and asking me to meet and +assist her in getting the house to rights. I did so. She was a +pleasant-faced, amiable woman and a most enterprising house +cleaner. I remember that my first task was mending the +wheelbarrow.</p> +<p>"I don't know what Silas would do if he were to get home and +find his wheelbarrow broken," said she. "It is almost an +inseparable companion of his."</p> +<p>The schoolmaster and his family were fishing and camping upon +the river, and so I lived at the Senator's house with Mrs. Wright +and her mother until he arrived. What a wonderful house it was, in +my view! I was awed by its size and splendor, its soft carpets and +shiny brass and mahogany. Yet it was very simple.</p> +<p>I hoed the garden and cleaned its paths and mowed the dooryard +and did some painting in the house. I remember that Mrs. Ebenezer +Binks—wife of the deacon and the constable—came in +while I was at the latter task early one morning to see if there +were anything she could do.</p> +<p>She immediately sat down and talked constantly until noon of her +family and especially of the heartlessness and general misconduct +of her son and daughter-in-law because they had refused to let her +apply the name of Divine Submission to the baby. It had been a hard +blow to Mrs. Binks, because this was the one and only favor which +she had ever asked of them. She reviewed the history of the Binkses +from Ebenezer—the First—down to that present day. There +had been three Divine Submissions in the family and they had made +the name of Binks known wherever people knew anything. When Mrs. +Wright left the room Mrs. Binks directed her conversation at me, +and when Mrs. Wright returned I only got the spray of it. By dinner +time we were drenched in a way of speaking and Mrs. Binks left, +assuring us that she would return later and do anything in her +power.</p> +<p>"My stars!" Mrs. Wright exclaimed. "If you see her coming lock +the door and go and hide in a closet until she goes away. Mrs. +Binks always brings her ancestors with her and they fill the house +so that there's no room for anybody else."</p> +<p>When the day's work was ended Mrs. Wright exclaimed:</p> +<p>"Thank goodness! the Binkses have not returned."</p> +<p>We always referred to Mrs. Binks as the Binkses after that.</p> +<p>Mrs. Jenison, a friend of the Wrights, came in that afternoon +and told us of the visit of young Latour to Canton and of the great +relief of the decent people at his speedy departure.</p> +<p>"I wonder what brought him here," said Mrs. Wright.</p> +<p>"It seems that he had heard of the beauty of Sally Dunkelberg. +But a bee had stung her nose just before he came and she was a +sight to behold."</p> +<p>The ladies laughed.</p> +<p>"It's lucky," said Mrs. Wright. "Doesn't Horace Dunkelberg know +about him?"</p> +<p>"I suppose he does, but the man is money crazy."</p> +<p>I couldn't help hearing it, for I was working in the room in +which they talked. Well, really, it doesn't matter much now. They +are all gone.</p> +<p>"Who is young Latour?" I asked when Mrs. Jenison had left +us.</p> +<p>"A rake and dissolute young man whose father is very rich and +lives in a great mansion over in Jefferson County," Mrs. Wright +answered.</p> +<p>I wondered then if there had been a purpose in that drop of +honey from the cup of the Silent Woman.</p> +<p>I remember that the Senator, who returned to Canton that evening +on the Watertown stage, laughed heartily when, as we were sitting +by the fireside, Mrs. Wright told of the call of the Binkses.</p> +<p>"The good lady enjoys a singular plurality," he remarked.</p> +<p>"She enjoys it better than we do," said Mrs. Wright.</p> +<p>The Senator had greeted me with a fatherly warmth. Again I felt +that strong appeal to my eye in his broadcloth and fine linen and +beaver hat and in the splendid dignity and courtesy of his +manners.</p> +<p>"I've had good reports of you, Bart, and I'm very glad to see +you," he said.</p> +<p>"I believe your own marks have been excellent in the last year," +I ventured.</p> +<p>"Poorer than I could wish. The teacher has been very kind to +me," he laughed. "What have you been studying?"</p> +<p>"Latin (I always mentioned the Latin first), Algebra, +Arithmetic, Grammar, Geography and History."</p> +<p>"Including the history of the Binkses," he laughed.</p> +<p>There was never a note of humor in his speeches, but he was +playful in his talk at times, especially when trusted friends were +with him.</p> +<p>"She is a very excellent woman, after all," he added.</p> +<p>He asked about my aunt and uncle and I told him of all that had +befallen us, save the one thing of which I had spoken only with +them and Sally.</p> +<p>"I shall go up to see them soon," he said.</p> +<p>The people of the little village had learned that he preferred +to be let alone when he had just returned over the long, wearisome +way from the scene of his labors. So we had the evening to +ourselves.</p> +<p>I remember my keen interest in his account of riding from Albany +to Utica on the new railroads. He spoke with enthusiasm of the +smoothness and swiftness of the journey.</p> +<p>"With no mishap they now make it in about a half a day," he +said, as we listened with wonder. "It is like riding in a house +with a good deal of smoke coming out of the chimney and in at the +windows. You sit on a comfortable bench with a back and a foot-rest +in front and look out of the window and ride. But I tremble +sometimes to think of what might happen with all that weight and +speed.</p> +<p>"We had a little mishap after leaving Ballston Spa. The +locomotive engine broke down and the train stopped. The passengers +poured out like bees. We put our hands and shoulders on the train +and pushed it backwards about a third of a mile to a passing +station. There the engine got out of our way and after an hour's +wait a horse was hitched to the train. With the help of the men he +started it. At the next town our horse was reinforced by two +others. They hauled us to the engine station four miles beyond, +where another locomotive engine was attached to the train, and we +went on by steam and at a fearful rate of speed."</p> +<p>Mrs. Wright, being weary after the day's work, went to bed early +and, at his request, I sat with the Senator by the fire for an hour +or so. I have always thought it a lucky circumstance, for he asked +me to tell of my plans and gave me advice and encouragement which +have had a marked effect upon my career.</p> +<p>I remember telling him that I wished to be a lawyer and my +reasons for it. He told me that a lawyer was either a pest or a +servant of justice and that his chief aim should be the promotion +of peace and good will in his community. He promised to try and +arrange for my accommodation in his office in the autumn and +meanwhile to lend me some books to read while I was at home.</p> +<p>"Before we go to bed let us have a settlement," said the +Senator. "Will you kindly sit down at the table there and make up a +statement of all the time you have given me?"</p> +<p>I made out the statement very neatly and carefully and put it in +his hands.</p> +<p>"That is well done," said he. "I shall wish you to stay until +the day after to-morrow, if you will. So you will please add +another day."</p> +<p>I amended the statement and he paid me the handsome sum of seven +dollars. I remember that after I went to my room that night I +stitched up the opening in my jacket pocket, which contained my +wealth, with the needle and thread which Aunt Deel had put in my +bundle, and slept with the jacket under my mattress.</p> +<p>The Senator and I were up at five o'clock and at work in the +garden. What a contrast to see him spading in his old farm suit! +Mrs. Wright cooked our breakfast and called us in at six.</p> +<p>I remember we were fixing the fence around his pasture lot that +day when a handsomely dressed gentleman came back in the field. Mr. +Wright was chopping at a small spruce.</p> +<p>"Is Senator Wright here?" the stranger inquired of me.</p> +<p>I pointed to the chopper.</p> +<p>"I beg your pardon—I am looking for the distinguished +United States Senator," he explained with a smile.</p> +<p>Again I pointed at the man with the ax and said:</p> +<p>"That is the Senator."</p> +<p>Often I have thought of the look of astonishment on the face of +the stranger as he said: "Will you have the kindness to tell him +that General Macomb would like to speak with him?"</p> +<p>I halted his ax and conveyed the message.</p> +<p>"Is this the hero of Plattsburg?" Mr. Wright asked.</p> +<p>"Well, I have been there," said the General.</p> +<p>They shook hands and went up to the house together.</p> +<p>I walked back to the hills that evening. There I found a letter +from Sally. She and her mother, who was in ill health, were +spending the summer with relatives at Portsmouth, New Hampshire. +She wrote of riding and fishing and sailing, but of all that she +wrote I think only of these words now:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"I meet many good-looking boys here, but none of them are like +you. I wonder if you remember what you said to me that day. If you +want to unsay it, you can do it by letter, you know. I think that +would be the best way to do it. So don't be afraid of hurting my +feelings. Perhaps I would be glad. You don't know. What a long day +that was! It seems as if it wasn't over yet. How lucky for me that +it was such a beautiful day! You know I have forgotten all about +the pain, but I laugh when I think how I looked and how Mr. Latour +looked. He laughed a good deal going home, as if thinking of some +wonderful joke. In September I am going away to a young ladies' +school in Albany. I hate it. Can you imagine why? I am to learn +fine manners and French and Spanish and dancing and be good enough +for any man's wife. Think of that. Father says that I must marry a +big man. Jiminy Crimps! As if a big man wouldn't know better. I am +often afraid that you will know too much. I know what will happen +when your intellect sees how foolish I am. My grandmother says that +I am frivolous and far from God. I am afraid it's true, but +sometimes I want to be good—only sometimes. I remember you +said, once, that you were going to be like Silas Wright. Honestly I +believe that you could. So does mother. I want you to keep trying, +but it makes me afraid. Oh, dear! How sad and homesick I feel +to-day! Tell me the truth now, when you write."</p> +</div> +<p>That evening I wrote my first love-letter—a fairly warm +and moving fragment of history. My family have urged me to let it +go in the record, but I have firmly refused. There are some things +which I can not do even in this little masquerade. It is enough to +say that when the day ended I had deliberately chosen two of the +many ways that lay before me.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>I USE MY OWN COMPASS AT A FORK IN THE ROAD</h3> +<p>Swiftly now I move across the border into manhood—a +serious, eager, restless manhood. It was the fashion of the young +those days.</p> +<p>I spent a summer of hard work in the fields. Evenings I read the +books which Mr. Wright had loaned to me, Blackstone's +<i>Commentaries</i> and <i>Greenleaf on Evidence</i> and a +translation by Doctor Bowditch of LaPlace's <i>Mécanique +Celeste</i>. The latter I read aloud. I mention it because in a way +it served as an antidote for that growing sense of expansion in my +intellect. In the vastness of infinite space I found the littleness +of man and his best accomplishments.</p> +<p>Mr. Wright came up for a day's fishing in July. My uncle and I +took him up the river. I remember that after he had landed a big +trout he sat down and held the fish up before him and looked +proudly at the graceful, glowing, arrowy shape.</p> +<p>"I never did anything in the Senate that seemed half so +important as this," he remarked thoughtfully.</p> +<p>While we ate our luncheon he described Jackson and spoke of the +famous cheese which he had kept on a table in the vestibule of the +White House for his callers. He described his fellow +senators—Webster, Clay, Rives, Calhoun and Benton. I remember +that Webster was, in his view, the least of them, although at his +best the greatest orator. We had a delightful day, and when I drove +back to the village with him that night he told me that I could go +into the office of Wright and Baldwin after harvesting.</p> +<p>"It will do for a start," he said. "A little later I shall try +to find a better place for you."</p> +<p>I began my work taking only the studies at school which would +qualify me for surveying. I had not been in Canton a week when I +received a rude shock which was my first lesson in the ungentle art +of politics. Rodney Barnes and Uncle Peabody were standing with me +in front of a store. A man came out with Colonel Hand and said in a +loud voice that Sile Wright was a spoilsman and a drunkard—in +politics for what he could get out of it.</p> +<p>My uncle turned toward the stranger with a look of amazement. +Rodney Barnes dropped the knife with which he had been whittling. I +felt my face turning red.</p> +<p>"What's that, mister?" asked Rodney Barnes.</p> +<p>The stranger repeated his statement and added that he could +prove it.</p> +<p>"Le's see ye," said Barnes as he approached him.</p> +<p>There was a half moment of silence.</p> +<p>"Go on with yer proof," Rodney insisted, his great right hand +trembling as he whittled.</p> +<p>"There are plenty of men in Albany that know the facts," said +the stranger.</p> +<p>"Any other proof to offer?"</p> +<p>"That's enough."</p> +<p>"Oh, I see, ye can't prove it to-day, but ye don't mind sayin' +it to-day. Say, mister, where do you live?"</p> +<p>"None o' your dam' business."</p> +<p>Swift as a cat's paw the big, right hand of Rodney caught the +man by his shoulder and threw him down. Seizing him by the collar +and the seat of his trousers our giant friend lifted the slanderer +and flung him to the roof of a wooden awning in front of the +grocer's shop near which we stood.</p> +<p>"Now you stay there 'til I git cooled off or you'll be hurt," +said Rodney. "You better be out o' my reach for a few minutes."</p> +<p>A crowd had begun to gather.</p> +<p>"I want you all to take a look at that man," Rodney shouted. "He +says Sile Wright is a drunkard an' a thief."</p> +<p>Loud jeers followed the statement, then a volley of oaths and a +moment of danger, for somebody shouted:</p> +<p>"Le's tar an' feather him."</p> +<p>"No, we'll just look at him a few minutes," Rodney Barnes +shouted. "He's one o' the greatest curiosities that ever came to +this town."</p> +<p>The slanderer, thoroughly frightened, stood silent a few moments +like a prisoner in the stocks. Soon the grocer let him in at an +upper window.</p> +<p>Then the loud voice of Rodney Barnes rang like a trumpet in the +words:</p> +<p>"Any man who says a mean thing of another when he can't prove it +ought to be treated in the same way."</p> +<p>"That's so," a number of voices answered.</p> +<p>The slanderer stayed in retirement the rest of the day and the +incident passed into history, not without leaving its impression on +the people of the two towns.</p> +<p>My life went on with little in it worth recording until the +letter came. I speak of it as "the letter," because of its effect +upon my career. It was from Sally, and it said:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR BART—It's all over for a long time, perhaps +forever—that will depend on you. I shall be true to you, if +you really love me, even if I have to wait many, many years. Mother +and father saw and read your letter. They say we are too young to +be thinking about love and that we have got to stop it. How can I +stop it? I guess I would have to stop living. But we shall have to +depend upon our memories now. I hope that yours is as good as mine. +Father says no more letters without his permission, and he stamped +his foot so hard that I think he must have made a dent in the +floor. Talk about slavery—what do you think of that? Mother +says that we must wait—that it would make father a great deal +of trouble if it were known that I allowed you to write. I guess +the soul of old Grimshaw is still following you. Well, we must +stretch out that lovely day as far as we can. Its words and its +sunshine are always in my heart. I am risking the salvation of my +soul in writing this. But I'd rather burn forever than not tell you +how happy your letter made me, dear Bart. It is that Grimshaw +trouble that is keeping us apart. On the third of June, 1844, we +shall both be twenty-one—and I suppose that we can do as we +please then. The day is a long way off, but I will agree to meet +you that day at eleven in the morning under the old pine on the +river where I met you that day and you told me that you loved me. +If either or both should die our souls will know where to find each +other. If you will solemnly promise, write these words and only +these to my mother—Amour omnia vincit, but do not sign your +name.</p> +<p>"SALLY."</p> +</div> +<p>What a serious matter it seemed to me then! I remember that it +gave Time a rather slow foot. I wrote the words very neatly and +plainly on a sheet of paper and mailed it to Mrs. Dunkelberg. I +wondered if Sally would stand firm and longed to know the secrets +of the future. More than ever I was resolved to be the principal +witness in some great matter, as my friend in Ashery Lane had put +it.</p> +<p>I was eight months with Wright and Baldwin when I was offered a +clerkship in the office of Judge Westbrook, at Cobleskill, in +Schoharie County, at two hundred a year and my board. I knew not +then just how the offer had come, but knew that the Senator must +have recommended me. I know now that he wanted a reliable witness +of the rent troubles which were growing acute in Schoharie, +Delaware and Columbia Counties.</p> +<p>It was a trial to go so far from home, as Aunt Deel put it, but +both my aunt and uncle agreed that it was "for the best."</p> +<p>"Mr. Purvis" had come to work for my uncle. In the midst of my +preparations the man of gristle decided that he would like to go +with me and see the world and try his fortune in another part of +the country.</p> +<p>How it wrung my heart, when Mr. Purvis and I got into the stage +at Canton, to see my aunt and uncle standing by the front wheel +looking up at me. How old and lonely and forlorn they looked! Aunt +Deel had her purse in her hand. I remember how she took a dollar +bill out of it—I suppose it was the only dollar she +had—and looked at it a moment and then handed it up to +me.</p> +<p>"You better take it," she said. "I'm 'fraid you won't have +enough."</p> +<p>How her hand and lips trembled! I have always kept that +dollar.</p> +<p>I couldn't see them as we drove away.</p> +<p>I enjoyed the ride and the taverns and the talk of the +passengers and the steamboat journey through the two lakes and down +the river, but behind it all was a dark background. The shadows of +my beloved friends fell every day upon my joys. However, I would be +nearer Sally. It was a comfort when we were in Albany to reflect +that she was somewhere in that noisy, bewildering spread of streets +and buildings. I walked a few blocks from the landing, taking +careful note of my way—mentally blazing a trail for fear of +getting lost—and looked wistfully up a long street. There +were many people, but no Sally.</p> +<p>The judge received me kindly and gave Purvis a job in his +garden. I was able to take his dictation in sound-hand and spent +most of my time in taking down contracts and correspondence and +drafting them into proper form, which I had the knack of doing +rather neatly. I was impressed by the immensity of certain towns in +the neighborhood, and there were some temptations in my way. Many +people, and especially the prominent men, indulged in ardent +spirits.</p> +<p>One of my young friends induced me to go to dinner with him at +Van Brocklin's, the fashionable restaurant of a near city. We had a +bottle of wine and some adventures and I was sick for a week after +it. Every day of that week I attended a convention of my ancestors +and received much good advice. Toward the end of it my friend came +to see me.</p> +<p>"There's no use of my trying to be a gentleman," I said. "I fear +that another effort would hang my pelt on the door. It's a +disgrace, probably, but I've got to be good. I'm driven to it."</p> +<p>"The way I look at it is this," said he. "We're young fellows +and making a good deal of money and we can't tell when we'll die +and leave a lot that we'll never get any good of."</p> +<p>It was a down-country, aristocratic view of the responsibilities +of youth and quite new to me. Caligula was worried in a like +manner, I believe. We had near us there a little section of the old +world which was trying, in a half-hearted fashion, to maintain +itself in the midst of a democracy. It was the manorial life of the +patroons—a relic of ancient feudalism which had its beginning +in 1629, when The West Indies Company issued its charter of +Privileges and Exemptions. That charter offered to any member of +the company who should, within four years, bring fifty adults to +the New Netherlands and establish them along the Hudson, a liberal +grant of land, to be called a manor, of which the owner or patroon +should be full proprietor and chief magistrate. The settlers were +to be exempt from taxation for ten years, but under bond to stay in +one place and develop it. In the beginning the patroon built houses +and barns and furnished cattle, seed and tools. The tenants for +themselves and their heirs agreed to pay him a fixed rent forever +in stock and produce and, further, to grind at the owner's mill and +neither to hunt nor fish.</p> +<p>Judge Westbrook, in whose office I worked, was counsel and +collector for the patroons, notably for the manors of Livingston +and Van Renssalaer—two little kingdoms in the heart of the +great republic.</p> +<p>I spent two years at my work and studied in the office of the +learned judge with an ever-present but diminishing sense of +homesickness. I belonged to the bowling and athletic club and had +many friends.</p> +<p>Mr. Louis Latour, of Jefferson County, whom I had met in the +company of Mr. Dunkelberg, came during my last year there to study +law in the office of the judge, a privilege for which he was +indebted to the influence of Senator Wright, I understood. He was a +gay Lothario, always boasting of his love affairs, and I had little +to do with him.</p> +<p>One day in May near the end of my two years in Cobleskill Judge +Westbrook gave me two writs to serve on settlers in the +neighborhood of Baldwin Heights for non-payment of rent. He told me +what I knew, that there was bitter feeling against the patroons in +that vicinity and that I might encounter opposition to the service +of the writs. If so I was not to press the matter, but bring them +back and he would give them to the sheriff.</p> +<p>"I do not insist on your taking this task upon you," he added. +"I want a man of tact to go and talk with these people and get +their point of view. If you don't care to undertake it I'll send +another man."</p> +<p>"I think that I would enjoy the task," I said in ignorance of +that hornet's nest back in the hills.</p> +<p>"Take Purvis with you," he said. "He can take care of the +horses, and as those back-country folk are a little lawless it will +be just as well to have a witness with you. They tell me that +Purvis is a man of nerve and vigor."</p> +<p>Thus very deftly and without alarming me he had given me a +notion of the delicate nature of my task. He had great faith in me +those days. Well, I had had remarkably good luck with every matter +he had put into my hands. He used to say that I would make a +diplomat and playfully called me "Lord Chesterfield"—perhaps +because I had unconsciously acquired a dignity and courtesy of +manner beyond my years a little.</p> +<p>"Mr. Purvis" had been busy building up a conversational +reputation for frightfulness in the gardens. He was held in awe by +a number of the simple-minded men with whom he worked. For him life +had grown very pleasant again—a sweet, uninterrupted dream of +physical power and fleeing enemies. I tremble to think what might +have happened if his strength and courage had equaled his ambition. +I smiled when the judge spoke of his nerve and vigor. Still I was +glad of his company, for I enjoyed Purvis.</p> +<p>I had drafted my letters for the day and was about to close my +desk and start on my journey when Louis Latour came in and +announced that he had brought the writs from the judge and was +going with me.</p> +<p>"You will need a sheriff's deputy anyhow, and I have been +appointed for just this kind of work," he assured me.</p> +<p>"I don't object to your going but you must remember that I am in +command," I said, a little taken back, for I had no good opinion +either of his prudence or his company.</p> +<p>He was four years older than I but I had better judgment, poor +as it was, and our chief knew it.</p> +<p>"The judge told me that I could go but that I should be under +your orders," he answered. "I'm not going to be a fool. I'm trying +to establish a reputation for good sense myself."</p> +<p>We got our dinners and set out soon after one o'clock. Louis +wore a green velvet riding coat and handsome top boots and +snug-fitting, gray trousers. He was a gallant figure on the +high-headed chestnut mare which his father had sent to him. Purvis +and I, in our working suits, were like a pair of orderlies +following a general. We rode two of the best saddle horses in the +judge's stable and there were no better in that region.</p> +<p>I had read the deeds of the men we were to visit. They were +brothers and lived on adjoining farms with leases which covered +three hundred and fifty acres of land. Their great-grandfather had +agreed to pay a yearly rent forever of sixty-two bushels of good, +sweet, merchantable, winter wheat, eight yearling cattle and four +sheep in good flesh and sixteen fat hens, all to be delivered in +the city of Albany on the first day of January of each year. So, +feeling that I was engaged in a just cause, I bravely determined to +serve the writs if possible.</p> +<p>It was a delightful ride up into the highlands through woods +just turning green. Full flowing noisy brooks cut the road here and +there on their way to the great river. Latour rode along beside me +for a few miles and began to tell of his sentimental adventures and +conquests. His talk showed that he had the heart of a stone. It +made me hate him and the more because he had told of meeting Sally +on the street in Albany and that he was in love with her. It was +while he was telling me how he had once fooled a country girl that +I balked. He thought it a fine joke, for his father had cut his +allowance two hundred a year so that the sum they had had to pay in +damages had kept his nose "on the grindstone" for two years. Then I +stopped my horse with an exclamation which would have astonished +Lord Chesterfield, I am sure.</p> +<p>The young man drew rein and asked:</p> +<p>"What's the matter?"</p> +<p>"Only this. I shall have to try to lick you before we go any +further."</p> +<p>"How's that?"</p> +<p>I dismounted and tightened the girth of my saddle. My spirit was +taking swift counsel with itself at the brink of the precipice. It +was then that I seemed to see the angry face of old Kate—the +Silent Woman—at my elbow, and it counseled me to speak out. +Again her spirit was leading me. Calmly and slowly these words came +from my lips:</p> +<p>"Because I think you are a low-lived, dirty-souled dog of a man +and if you can stand that without fighting you are a coward to +boot."</p> +<p>This was not the language of diplomacy but at the time it seemed +to me rather kind and flattering.</p> +<p>Latour flashed red and jumped off his horse and struck at me +with his crop. I caught it in my hand and said:</p> +<p>"Hold on. Let's proceed decently and in order. Purvis, you hold +these horses while we fight it out."</p> +<p>Purvis caught Latour's horse and brought the others close to +mine and gathered the reins in his hand. I shall never forget how +pale he looked and how fast he was breathing and how his hands +trembled.</p> +<p>I jumped off and ran for my man. He faced me bravely. I landed a +stunning blow squarely on his nose and he fell to the ground. Long +before, Hacket had told me that a swift attack was half the battle +and I have found it so more than once, for I have never been slow +to fight for a woman's honor or a friend's or my own—never, +thank God! Latour lay so quietly for a moment that I was +frightened. His face was covered with blood. He came to and I +helped him up and he rushed at me like a tiger. I remember that we +had a long round then with our fists. I knew how to take care of my +face and stomach and that I did while he wore himself out in wild +blows and desperate lunges.</p> +<p>We had dismounted near the end of a bridge. He fought me to the +middle of it and when his speed slackened I took the offensive and +with such energy that he clinched. I threw him on the planks and we +went down together, he under me, in a fall so violent that it shook +the bridge and knocked the breath out of him. This seemed to +convince Latour that I was his master. His distress passed quickly +and he got up and began brushing the dust from his pretty riding +coat and trousers. I saw that he was winded and in no condition to +resume the contest.</p> +<p>I felt as fresh as if I had mowed only once around the field, to +quote a saying of my uncle.</p> +<p>"We'll have to fight it out some other day," he said. "I'm weak +from the loss of blood. My nose feels as if it was turned wrong +side out."</p> +<p>"It ought to be used to the grindstone after two years of +practise," I remarked. "Come down to the brook and let me wash the +blood off you."</p> +<p>Without a word he followed me and I washed his face as gently as +I could and did my best to clean his shirt and waistcoat with my +handkerchief. His nose was badly swollen.</p> +<p>"Latour, women have been good to me," I said. "I've been taught +to think that a man who treats them badly is the basest of all men. +I can't help it. The feeling has gone into my bones. I'll fight you +as often as I hear you talk as you did."</p> +<p>He reeled with weakness as he started toward his horse. I helped +him into the saddle.</p> +<p>"I guess I'm not as bad as I talk," he remarked.</p> +<p>If it were so he must have revised his view of that distinction +which he had been lying to achieve. It was a curious type of vanity +quite new to me then.</p> +<p>Young Mr. Latour fell behind me as we rode on. The silence was +broken presently by "Mr. Purvis," who said:</p> +<p>"You can hit like the hind leg of a horse. I never sees more +speed an' gristle in a feller o' your age."</p> +<p>"Nobody could swing the scythe and the ax as much as I have +without getting some gristle, and the schoolmaster taught me how to +use it," I answered. "But there's one thing that no man ought to be +conceited about."</p> +<p>"What's that?"</p> +<p>"His own gristle. I remember Mr. Hacket told me once that the +worst kind of a fool was the man who was conceited over his +fighting power and liked to talk about it. If I ever get that way I +hope that I shall have it licked out of me."</p> +<p>"I never git conceited—not that I ain't some reason to +be," said Mr. Purvis with a highly serious countenance. He seemed +to have been blind to that disparity between his acts and sayings +which had distinguished him in Lickitysplit.</p> +<p>I turned my head away to hide my smiles and we rode on in +silence.</p> +<p>"I guess I've got somethin' here that is cocollated to please +ye," he said.</p> +<p>He took a letter from his pocket and gave it to me. My heart +beat faster when I observed that the superscription on the envelope +was in Sally's handwriting. The letter, which bore neither +signature nor date line, contained these words:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"Will you please show this to Mr. Barton Baynes? I hope it will +convince him that there is one who still thinks of the days of the +past and of the days that are coming—especially one day."</p> +</div> +<p>Tears dimmed my eyes as I read and re-read the message. More +than two of those four years had passed and, as the weeks had +dragged along I had thought more and more of Sally and the day that +was coming. I had bought a suit of evening clothes and learned to +dance and gone out to parties and met many beautiful young ladies +but none of them had the charm of Sally. The memory of +youth—true-hearted, romantic, wonder-working youth—had +enthroned her in its golden castle and was defending her against +the present commonplace herd of mere human beings. No one of them +had played with me in the old garden or stood by the wheat-field +with flying hair, as yellow as the grain, and delighted me with the +sweetest words ever spoken. No one of them had been glorified with +the light and color of a thousand dreams.</p> +<p>I rode in silence, thinking of her and of those beautiful days +now receding into the past and of my aunt and uncle. I had written +a letter to them every week and one or the other had answered it. +Between the lines I had detected the note of loneliness. They had +told me the small news of the countryside. How narrow and +monotonous it all seemed to me then! Rodney Barnes had bought a new +farm; John Axtell had been hurt in a runaway; my white mare had got +a spavin!</p> +<p>"Hello, mister!"</p> +<p>I started out of my reverie with a little jump of surprise. A +big, rough-dressed, bearded man stood in the middle of the road +with a gun on his shoulder.</p> +<p>"Where ye goin'?"</p> +<p>"Up to the Van Heusen place."</p> +<p>"Where do ye hail from?"</p> +<p>"Cobleskill."</p> +<p>"On business for Judge Westbrook?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"Writs to serve?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered with no thought of my imprudence.</p> +<p>"Say, young man, by hokey nettie! I advise you to turn right +around and go back."</p> +<p>"Why?"</p> +<p>"'Cause if ye try to serve any writs ye'll git into +trouble."</p> +<p>"That's interesting," I answered. "I am not seeking a quarrel, +but I do want to see how the people feel about the payment of their +rents."</p> +<p>"Say mister, look down into that valley there," the stranger +began. "See all them houses—they're the little houses o' the +poor. See how smooth the land is? Who built them houses? Who +cleaned that land? Was it Mr. Livingston? By hokey nettie! I guess +not. The men who live there built the houses an' cleaned the land. +We ain't got nothin' else—not a dollar! It's all gone to the +landlord. I am for the men who made every rod o' that land an' who +own not a single rod of it. Years an' years ago a king gave it to a +man who never cut one tree or laid one stone on another. The deeds +say that we must pay a rent o' so many bushels o' wheat a year but +the land is no good for wheat, an' ain't been for a hundred years. +Why, ye see, mister, a good many things have happened in three +hundred years. The land was willin' to give wheat then an' a good +many folks was willin' to be slaves. By hokey nettie! they had got +used to it. Kings an' magistrates an' slavery didn't look so bad to +'em as they do now. Our brains have changed—that's what's the +matter—same as the soil has changed. We want to be free like +other folks in this country. America has growed up around us but +here we are livin' back in old Holland three hundred years ago. It +don't set good. We see lots o' people that don't have to be slaves. +They own their land an' they ain't worked any harder than we have +or been any more savin'. That's why I say we can't pay the rents no +more an' ye mustn't try to make us. By hokey nettie! You'll have +trouble if ye do."</p> +<p>The truth had flashed upon me out of the words of this simple +man. Until then I had heard only one side of the case. If I were to +be the servant of justice, as Mr. Wright had advised, what was I to +do? These tenants had been Grimshawed and were being Grimshawed out +of the just fruits of their toil by the feudal chief whose remote +ancestor had been a king's favorite. For half a moment I watched +the wavering needle of my compass and then:</p> +<p>"If what you say is true I think you are right," I said.</p> +<p>"I don't agree with you," said young Latour. "The patroons have +a clear title to this land. If the tenants don't want to pay the +rents they ought to get out and make way for others."</p> +<p>"Look here, young man, my name is Josiah Curtis," said the +stranger. "I live in the first house on the right-hand side o' the +road. You may tell the judge that I won't pay rent no +more—not as long as I live—and I won't git out, +either."</p> +<p>"Mr. Latour, you and Purvis may go on slowly—I'll overtake +you soon," I said.</p> +<p>They went on and left me alone with Curtis. He was getting +excited and I wished to allay his fears.</p> +<p>"Don't let him try to serve no writs or there'll be hell to pay +in this valley," said Curtis.</p> +<p>"In that case I shall not try to serve the writs. I don't want +to stir up the neighborhood, but I want to know the facts. I shall +try to see other tenants and report what they say. It may lead to a +settlement."</p> +<p>We went on together to the top of the hill near which we had +been standing. Far ahead I saw a cloud of dust but no other sign of +Latour and Purvis. They must have spurred their horses into a run. +The fear came to me that Latour would try to serve the writs in +spite of me. They were in his pocket. What a fool I had been not to +call for them. My companion saw the look of concern in my face.</p> +<p>"I don't like that young feller," said Curtis. "He's in fer +trouble."</p> +<p>He ran toward his house, which was only a few rods beyond us, +while I started on in pursuit of the two men at top speed. Before +my horse had taken a dozen jumps I heard a horn blowing behind me +and its echo in the hills. Within a half a moment a dozen horns +were sounding in the valleys around me. What a contrast to the +quiet in which we had been riding was this pandemonium which had +broken loose in the countryside. A little ahead I could see men +running out of the fields. My horse had begun to lather, for the +sun was hot. My companions were far ahead. I could not see the dust +of their heels now. I gave up trying to catch them and checked the +speed of my horse and went on at a walk. The horns were still +sounding. Some of them seemed to be miles away. About twenty rods +ahead I saw three riders in strange costumes come out of a dooryard +and take the road at a wild gallop in pursuit of Latour and Purvis. +They had not discovered me. I kept as calm as I could in the midst +of this excitement. I remember laughing when I thought of the mess +in which "Mr. Purvis" would shortly find himself.</p> +<p>I passed the house from which the three riders had just turned +into the road. A number of women and an old man and three or four +children stood on the porch. They looked at me in silence as I was +passing and then began to hiss and jeer. It gave me a feeling I +have never known since that day. I jogged along over the brow of a +hill when, at a white, frame house, I saw the center toward which +all the men of the countryside were coming.</p> +<p>Suddenly I heard the hoof-beats of a horse behind me. I stopped, +and looking over my shoulder saw a rider approaching me in the +costume of an Indian chief. A red mask covered his face. A crest of +eagle feathers circled the edge of his cap. Without a word he rode +on at my side. I knew not then that he was the man Josiah +Curtis—nor could I at any time have sworn that it was he.</p> +<p>A crowd had assembled around the house ahead. I could see a +string of horsemen coming toward it from the other side. I wondered +what was going to happen to me. What a shouting and jeering in the +crowded dooryard! I could see the smoke of a fire. We reached the +gate. Men in Indian masks and costumes gathered around us.</p> +<p>"Order! Sh-sh-sh," was the loud command of the man beside me in +whom I recognized—or thought that I did—the voice of +Josiah Curtis.</p> +<p>"What has happened?"</p> +<p>"One o' them tried to serve a writ an' we have tarred an' +feathered him."</p> +<p>Just then I heard the voice of Purvis shouting back in the crowd +this impassioned plea:</p> +<p>"Bart, for God's sake, come here."</p> +<p>I turned to Curtis and said:</p> +<p>"If the gentleman tried to serve the writ he acted without +orders and deserves what he has got. The other fellow is simply a +hired man who came along to take care of the horses. He couldn't +tell the difference between a writ and a hole in the ground."</p> +<p>"Men, you have gone fur enough," said Curtis. "This man is all +right. Bring the other men here and put 'em on their horses an' +I'll escort 'em out o' the town."</p> +<p>They brought Latour on a rail amidst roars of laughter. What a +bear-like, poultrified, be-poodled object he was!—burred and +sheathed in rumpled gray feathers from his hair to his heels. The +sight and smell of him scared the horses. There were tufts of +feathers over his ears and on his chin. They had found great joy in +spoiling that aristocratic livery in which he had arrived.</p> +<p>Then came poor Purvis. They had just begun to apply the tar and +feathers to him when Curtis had stopped the process. He had only a +shaking ruff of long feathers around his neck. They lifted the +runaways into their saddles. Purvis started off at a gallop, +shouting "Come on, Bart," but they stopped him.</p> +<p>"Don't be in a hurry, young feller," said one of the Indians, +and then there was another roar of laughter.</p> +<p>"Go back to yer work now," Curtis shouted, and turning to me +added: "You ride along with me and let our feathered friends follow +us."</p> +<p>So we started up the road on our way back to Cobleskill. Soon +Latour began to complain that he was hot and the feathers pricked +him.</p> +<p>"You come alongside me here an' raise up a little an' I'll pick +the inside o' yer legs an' pull out yer tail feathers," said +Curtis. "If you got 'em stuck into yer skin you'd be a reg'lar +chicken an' no mistake."</p> +<p>I helped in the process and got my fingers badly tarred.</p> +<p>"This is a dangerous man to touch—his soul is tarred," +said Curtis. "Keep away from him."</p> +<p>"What a lookin' skunk you be!" he laughed as he went on with the +picking.</p> +<p>We resumed our journey. Our guide left us at the town line some +three miles beyond.</p> +<p>"Thank God the danger is over," said Purvis. "The tar on my neck +has melted an' run down an' my shirt sticks like the bark on a +tree. I'm sick o' the smell o' myself. If I could find a skunk I'd +enjoy holdin' him in my lap a while. I'm goin' back to St. Lawrence +County about as straight as I can go. I never did like this country +anyway."</p> +<p>He had picked the feathers out of his neck and Latour was now +busy picking his arms and shoulders. Presently he took off his +feathered coat and threw it away, saying:</p> +<p>"They'll have to pay for this. Every one o' those jackrabbits +will have to settle with me."</p> +<p>"You brought it on yourself," I said. "You ran away from me and +got us all into trouble by being too smart. You tried to be a fool +and succeeded beyond your expectation. My testimony wouldn't help +you any."</p> +<p>"You're always against the capitalist," he answered.</p> +<p>It was dark when I left my companions in Cobleskill. I changed +my clothes and had my supper and found Judge Westbrook in his home +and reported the talk of Curtis and our adventure and my view of +the situation back in the hills. I observed that he gave the latter +a cold welcome.</p> +<p>"I shall send the sheriff and a posse," he said with a troubled +look.</p> +<p>"Pardon me, but I think it will make a bad matter worse," I +answered.</p> +<p>"We must not forget that the patroons are our clients," he +remarked.</p> +<p>I yielded and went on with my work. In the next week or so I +satisfied myself of the rectitude of my opinions. Then came the +most critical point in my history—a conflict with Thrift and +Fear on one side and Conscience on the other.</p> +<p>The judge raised my salary. I wanted the money, but every day I +would have to lend my help, directly or indirectly, to the +prosecution of claims which I could not believe to be just. My +heart went out of my work. I began to fear myself. For weeks I had +not the courage to take issue with the learned judge.</p> +<p>One evening I went to his home determined to put an end to my +unhappiness. After a little talk I told him frankly that I thought +the patroons should seek a friendly settlement with their +tenants.</p> +<p>"Why?" he asked.</p> +<p>"Because their position is unjust, un-American and untenable," +was my answer.</p> +<p>He rose and gave me his hand and a smile of forbearance in +consideration of my youth, as I took it.</p> +<p>I left much irritated and spent a sleepless night in the course +of which I decided to cling to the ideals of David Hoffman and +Silas Wright.</p> +<p>In the morning I resigned my place and asked to be relieved as +soon as the convenience of the judge would allow it. He tried to +keep me with gentle persuasion and higher pay, but I was firm. Then +I wrote a long letter to my friend the Senator.</p> +<p>Again I had chosen my way and with due regard to the +compass.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>THE MAN WITH THE SCYTHE</h3> +<p>It was late in June before I was able to disengage myself from +the work of the judge's office. Meanwhile there had been blood shed +back in the hills. One of the sheriff's posse had been severely +wounded by a bullet and had failed to serve the writs. The judge +had appealed to the governor. People were talking of "the rent +war."</p> +<p>Purvis had returned to St. Lawrence County and hired to my uncle +for the haying. He had sent me a letter which contained the welcome +information that the day he left the stage at Canton, he had seen +Miss Dunkelberg on the street.</p> +<p>"She was lookin' top-notch—stop't and spoke to me," he +went on. "You cood a nocked me down with a fether I was that +scairt. She ast me how you was an' I lookt her plum in the eye an' +I says: all grissul from his head to his heels, mam, an' able to +lick Lew Latour, which I seen him do in quick time an' tolable +severe. He can fight like a bob-tailed cat when he gits a-goin', I +says."</p> +<p>What a recommendation to the sweet, unsullied spirit of Sally! +Without knowledge of my provocation what would she think of me? He +had endowed me with all the frightfulness of his own cherished +ideal, and what was I to do about it? Well, I was going home and +would try to see her.</p> +<p>What a joy entered my heart when I was aboard the steamboat, at +last, and on my way to all most dear to me! As I entered Lake +Champlain I consulted the map and decided to leave the boat at +Chimney Point to find Kate Fullerton, who had written to the +schoolmaster from Canterbury. My aunt had said in a letter that old +Kate was living there and that a great change had come over her. So +I went ashore and hired a horse of the ferryman—one of those +"Green Mountain ponies" of which my uncle had told me: "They'll +take any gait that suits ye, except a slow one, an' keep it to the +end o' the road."</p> +<p>I think that I never had a horse so bent on reaching that +traditional "end of the road." He was what they called a "racker" +those days, and a rocking-chair was not easier to ride. He took me +swiftly across the wide flat and over the hills and seemed to +resent my effort to slow him.</p> +<p>I passed through Middlebury and rode into the grounds of the +college, where the Senator had been educated, and on out to +Weybridge to see where he had lived as a boy. I found the Wright +homestead—a comfortable white house at the head of a +beautiful valley with wooded hills behind it—and rode up to +the door. A white-haired old lady in a black lace cap was sitting +on its porch looking out at the sunlit fields.</p> +<p>"Is this where Senator Wright lived when he was a boy?" I +asked.</p> +<p>"Yes, sir," the old lady answered.</p> +<p>"I am from Canton."</p> +<p>She rose from her chair.</p> +<p>"You from Canton!" she exclaimed. "Why, of all things! That's +where my boy's home is. I'm glad to see you. Go an' put your horse +in the barn."</p> +<p>I dismounted and she came near me.</p> +<p>"Silas Wright is my boy," she said. "What is your name?"</p> +<p>"Barton Baynes," I answered as I hitched my horse.</p> +<p>"Barton Baynes! Why, Silas has told me all about you in his +letters. He writes to me every week. Come and sit down."</p> +<p>We sat down together on the porch.</p> +<p>"Silas wrote in his last letter that you were going to leave +your place in Cobleskill," she continued to my surprise. "He said +that he was glad you had decided not to stay."</p> +<p>It was joyful news to me, for the Senator's silence had worried +me and I had begun to think with alarm of my future.</p> +<p>"I wish that he would take you to Washington to help him. The +poor man has too much to do."</p> +<p>"I should think it a great privilege to go," I answered.</p> +<p>"My boy likes you," she went on. "You have been brought up just +as he was. I used to read to him every evening when the candles +were lit. How hard he worked to make a man of himself! I have known +the mother's joy. I can truly say, 'Now let thy servant depart in +peace.'"</p> +<p>"'For mine eyes have seen thy salvation,'" I quoted.</p> +<p>"You see I know much about you and much about your aunt and +uncle," said Mrs. Wright.</p> +<p>She left me for a moment and soon the whole household was +gathered about me on the porch, the men having come up from the +fields. The Senator had told them on his last visit of my +proficiency as a sound-hand writer and I amused them by explaining +the art of it. They put my horse in the barn and pressed me to stay +for dinner, which I did. It was a plain boiled dinner at which the +Senator's cousin and his hired man sat down in their shirt-sleeves +and during which I heard many stories of the boyhood of the great +man. As I was going the gentle old lady gave me a pair of mittens +which her distinguished son had worn during his last winter in +college. I remember well how tenderly she handled them!</p> +<p>"I hope that Silas will get you to help him"—those were +the last words she said to me when I bade her good-by.</p> +<p>The visit had set me up a good deal. The knowledge that I had +been so much in the Senator's thoughts, and that he approved my +decision to leave the learned judge, gave me new heart. I had never +cherished the thought that he would take me to Washington although, +now and then, a faint star of hope had shone above the capitol in +my dreams. As I rode along I imagined myself in that great arena +and sitting where I could see the flash of its swords and hear the +thunder of Homeric voices. That is the way I thought of it. Well, +those were no weak, piping times of peace, my brothers. They were +times of battle and as I rode through that peaceful summer +afternoon I mapped my way to the fighting line. I knew that I +should enjoy the practise of the law but I had begun to feel that +eventually my client would be the people whose rights were subject +to constant aggression as open as that of the patroons or as +insidious as that of the canal ring.</p> +<p>The shadows were long when I got to Canterbury. At the head of +its main street I looked down upon a village green and some fine +old elms. It was a singularly quiet place. I stopped in front of a +big white meeting house. An old man was mowing in its graveyard +near the highway. Slowly he swung his scythe.</p> +<p>"It's a fine day," I said.</p> +<p>"No, it ain't, nuther-too much hard work in it," said he.</p> +<p>"Do you know where Kate Fullerton lives?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Well, it's purty likely that I do," he answered as he stood +resting on his snath. "I've lived seventy-two years on this hill +come the fourteenth day o' June, an' if I didn't know where she +lived I'd be 'shamed of it."</p> +<p>He looked at me thoughtfully for a moment and added:</p> +<p>"I know everybody that lives here an' everybody that dies here, +an' some that orto be livin' but ain't an' some that orto be dead +which ye couldn't kill `em with an ax—don't seem so—I +declare it don't. Do ye see that big house down there in the +trees?"</p> +<p>I could see the place at which he pointed far back from the +village street in the valley below us, the house nearly hidden by +tall evergreens.</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered.</p> +<p>"No ye can't, nuther—leastways if ye can ye've got better +eyes'n mos' people, ye can't see only a patch o' the roof an' one +chimney—them pine trees bein' thicker'n the hair on a dog. +It's the gloomiest ol' house in all creation, I guess. Wal, that's +the Squire Fullerton place—he's Kate's father."</p> +<p>"Does the squire live there?"</p> +<p>"No, sir—not eggzac'ly. He's dyin' there—been dyin' +there fer two year er more. By gosh! It's wonderful how hard 'tis +fer some folks to quit breathin'. Say, be you any o' his +fam'ly?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Nor no friend o' his?"</p> +<p>"No!"</p> +<p>"Course not. He never had a friend in his life—too mean! +He's too mean to die, mister—too mean fer hell an' I wouldn't +wonder—honest, I wouldn't—mebbe that's why God is +keepin' him here—jest to meller him up a little. Say, mister, +be you in a hurry?"</p> +<p>"No."</p> +<p>"Yis ye be. Everybody's in a hurry—seems to me—since +we got steam power in the country. Say, hitch yer hoss an' come in +here. I want to show ye suthin'."</p> +<p>He seemed to enjoy contradicting me.</p> +<p>"Nobody seems in a hurry in this town," I said.</p> +<p>"Don't, hey? Wal, ye ought to 'a' seen Deacon Norton run when +some punkins on his side hill bu'st their vines an' come rollin' +down an' chased him half a mile into the valley."</p> +<p>I dismounted and hitched my horse to the fence and followed him +into the old churchyard, between weather-stained mossy headstones +and graves overgrown with wild roses. Near the far end of these +thick-sown acres he stopped.</p> +<p>"Here's where the buryin' begun," said my guide. "The first hole +in the hill was dug for a Fullerton."</p> +<p>There were many small monuments and slabs of marble—some +spotted with lichens and all in commemoration of departed +Fullertons.</p> +<p>"Say, look a' that," said my guide as he pulled aside the stem +of a leafy brier red with roses. "Jest read that, mister."</p> +<p>My keen eyes slowly spelled out the time-worn words on a slab of +stained marble:</p> +<div> +<p class="figcenter">Sacred to the memory of<br /> +Katherine Fullerton<br /> +1787-1806<br /> +"Proclaim his Word in every place<br /> +That they are dead who fall from grace."</p> +</div> +<p>A dark shadow fell upon the house of my soul and I heard a loud +rapping at its door which confused me until, looking out, I saw the +strange truth of the matter. Rose leaves and blossoms seemed to be +trying to hide it with their beauty, but in vain.</p> +<p>"I understand," I said.</p> +<p>"No ye don't. Leastways I don't believe ye do—not correct. +Squire Fullerton dug a grave here an' had an empty coffin put into +it away back in 1806. It means that he wanted everybody to +understan' that his girl was jest the same as dead to him an' to +God. Say, he knew all about God's wishes—that man. Gosh! He +has sent more folks to hell than there are in it, I guess. Say, +mister, do ye know why he sent her there?"</p> +<p>I shook my head.</p> +<p>"Yis ye do, too. It's the same ol' thing that's been sendin' +women to hell ever since the world begun. Ye know hell must 'a' +been the invention of a man—that's sartin—an' it was +mostly fer women an' children—that's sartiner—an' fer +all the men that didn't agree with him. Set down here an' I'll tell +ye the hull story. My day's work is done."</p> +<p>We sat down together and he went on as follows:</p> +<p>"Did ye ever see Kate Fullerton?"</p> +<p>"Yes."</p> +<p>"No ye didn't, nuther. Yer too young. Mebbe ye seen her when she +was old an' broke down but that wa'n't Kate—no more'n I'm +Bill Tweedy, which I ain't. Kate was as handsome as a golden robin. +Hair yeller as his breast an' feet as spry as his wings an' a voice +as sweet as his song, an' eyes as bright as his'n—yis, +sir—ye couldn't beat her fer looks. That was years and years +ago. Her mother died when Kate was ten year old—there's her +grave in there with the sickle an' the sheaf an' the portry on it. +That was unfort'nit an' no mistake. Course the squire married ag'in +but the new wife wa'n't no kind of a mother to the girl an' you +know, mister, there was a young scoundrel here by the name o' +Grimshaw. His father was a rich man—owned the cooper shop an' +the saw-mill an' the tannery an' a lot o' cleared land down in the +valley. He kep' comp'ny with her fer two or three year. Then all of +a sudden folks began to talk—the women in partic'lar. Ye know +men invented hell an' women keep up the fire. Kate didn't look +right to 'em. Fust we knew, young Grimshaw had dropped her an' was +keepin' comp'ny with another gal—yis, sir. Do ye know +why?"</p> +<p>Before I could answer he went on:</p> +<p>"No ye don't—leastways I don't believe ye do. It was +'cause her father was richer'n the squire an' had promised his gal +ten thousan' dollars the day she was married. All of a sudden Kate +disappeared. We didn't know what had happened fer a long time."</p> +<p>"One day the ol' squire got me to dig this grave an' put up the +headstun an' then he tol' me the story. He'd turned the poor gal +out o' doors. God o' Israel! It was in the night—yis, +sir—it was in the night that he sent her away. Goldarn him! +He didn't have no more heart than a grasshopper—no +sir—not a bit. I could 'a' brained him with my shovel, but I +didn't.</p> +<p>"I found out where the gal had gone an' I follered her—yis +I did—found her in the poorhouse way over on Pussley +Hill—uh huh! She jes' put her arms 'round my neck an' cried +an' cried. I guess 'twas 'cause I looked kind o' friendly—uh +huh! I tol' her she should come right over to our house an' stay +jest as long as she wanted to as soon as she got well—yis, +sir, I did.</p> +<p>"She was sick all summer long—kind o' out o' her head, ye +know, an' I used to go over hossback an' take things fer her to +eat. An' one day when I was over there they was wonderin' what they +was goin' to do with her little baby. I took it in my arms an' I'll +be gol dummed if it didn't grab hold o' my nose an' hang on like a +puppy to a root. When they tried to take it away it grabbed its +fingers into my whiskers an' hollered like a panther—yis, +sir. Wal, ye know I jes' fetched that little baby boy home in my +arms, ay uh! My wife scolded me like Sam Hill—yis, +sir—she had five of her own. I tol' her I was goin' to take +it back in a day er two but after it had been in the house three +days ye couldn't 'a' pulled it away from her with a windlass.</p> +<p>"We brought him up an' he was alwuss a good boy. We called him +Enoch—Enoch Rone—did ye ever hear the name?"</p> +<p>"'No.'</p> +<p>"I didn't think 'twas likely but I'm alwuss hopin'.</p> +<p>"Early that fall Kate got better an' left the poorhouse afoot. +Went away somewheres—nobody knew where. Some said she'd +crossed the lake an' gone away over into York State, some said +she'd drowned herself. By'm by we heard that she'd gone way over +into St. Lawrence County where Silas Wright lives an' where young +Grimshaw had settled down after he got married.</p> +<p>"Wal, 'bout five year ago the squire buried his second +wife—there 'tis over in there back o' Kate's with the little +speckled angel on it. Nobody had seen the squire outside o' his +house for years until the funeral—he was crippled so with +rheumatiz. After that he lived all 'lone in the big house with ol' +Tom Linney an' his wife, who've worked there fer 'bout forty year, +I guess.</p> +<p>"Wal, sir, fust we knew Kate was there in the house livin' with +her father. We wouldn't 'a' knowed it, then, if it hadn't been that +Tom Linney come over one day an' said he guessed the ol' squire +wanted to see me—no, sir, we wouldn't—fer the squire +ain't sociable an' the neighbors never darken his door. She must +'a' come in the night, jest as she went—nobody see her go an' +nobody see her come, an' that's a fact. Wal, one day las' fall +after the leaves was off an' they could see a corner o' my house +through the bushes, Tom was walkin' the ol' man 'round the room. +All to once he stopped an' p'inted at my house through the winder +an' kep' p'intin'. Tom come over an' said he ca'llated the squire +wanted to see me. So I went there. Kate met me at the door. Gosh! +How old an' kind o' broke down she looked! But I knew her the +minute I set my eyes on her—uh huh—an' she knew +me—yis, sir—she smiled an' tears come to her eyes an' +she patted my hand like she wanted to tell me that she hadn't +forgot, but she never said a word—not a word. The ol' squire +had the palsy, so 't he couldn't use his hands an' his throat was +paralyzed—couldn't speak ner nothin'. Where do ye suppose he +was when I found him?"</p> +<p>"In bed?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No, sir—no, siree! He was in hell—that's where he +was—reg'lar ol' fashioned, down-east hell, burnin' with fire +an' brimstun, that he'd had the agency for an' had recommended to +every sinner in the neighborhood. He was settin' in his room. God +o' Isr'el! You orto 'a' seen the motions he made with his hands an' +the way he tried to speak when I went in there, but all I could +hear was jest a long yell an' a kind of a rattle in his throat. +Heavens an' airth! how desperit he tried to spit out the thing that +was gnawin' his vitals. Ag'in an' ag'in he'd try to tell me. Lord +God! how he did work!</p> +<p>"All to once it come acrost me what he wanted—quick as ye +could say scat. He wanted to have Kate's headstun took down an' put +away—that's what he wanted. That stun was kind o' layin' on +his stummick an' painin' of him day an' night. He couldn't stan' +it. He knew that he was goin' to die purty soon an' that Kate would +come here an' see it an' that everybody would see her standin' here +by her own grave, an' it worried him. It was kind o' like a fire in +his belly.</p> +<p>"I guess, too, he couldn't bear the idee o' layin' down fer his +las' sleep beside that hell hole he'd dug fer Kate—no, +sir!</p> +<p>"Wal, ye know, mister, I jes' shook my head an' never let on +that I knew what he meant an' let him wiggle an' twist like a worm +on a hot griddle, an' beller like a cut bull 'til he fell back in a +swoon.</p> +<p>"Damn him! it don't give him no rest. He tries to tell everybody +he sees—that's what they say. He bellers day an' night an' if +you go down there he'll beller to you an' you'll know what it's +about, but the others don't.</p> +<p>"You an' me are the only ones that knows the secret, I guess. +Some day, 'fore he dies, I'm goin' to take up that headstun an' +hide it, but he'll never know it's done—no, sir—not +'til he gits to the judgment seat, anyway."</p> +<p>The old man stopped and rubbed his hands together as if he were +washing them of the whole matter. The dusk of evening had fallen +and crocked the white marble and blurred the lettered legends +around us. The mossy stones now reminded me only of the innumerable +host of the dead. Softly the notes of a song sparrow scattered down +into the silence that followed the strange story.</p> +<p>The old man rose and straightened himself and blew out his +breath and brushed his hands upon his trousers by way of stepping +down into this world again out of the close and dusty loft of his +memory. But I called him back.</p> +<p>"What has become of Enoch?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Wal, sir, Enoch started off west 'bout three year ago an' we +ain't heard a word from him since that day—nary a word, +mister. I suppose we will some time. He grew into a good man, but +there was a kind of a queer streak in the blood, as ye might say, +on both sides kind o'. We've wrote letters out to Wisconsin, where +he was p'intin' for, an' to places on the way, but we can't git no +news 'bout him. Mebbe he was killed by the Injuns."</p> +<p>We walked out of the graveyard together in silence. Dimly above +a distant ridge I could see stark, dead timber looming on a scarlet +cloud in the twilight. It is curious how carefully one notes the +setting of the scene in which his spirit has been deeply +stirred.</p> +<p>I could see a glimmer of a light in the thicket of pines down +the valley. I unhitched and mounted my horse.</p> +<p>"Take the first turn to the right," said the old man as he +picked up his scythe.</p> +<p>"I'm very much obliged to you," I said.</p> +<p>"No ye ain't, nuther," he answered. "Leastways there ain't no +reason why ye should be."</p> +<p>My horse, impatient as ever to find the end of the road, hurried +me along and in a moment or two we were down under the pine grove +that surrounded the house of old Squire Fullerton—a big, +stone house with a graveled road around it. A great black dog came +barking and growling at me from the front porch. I rode around the +house and he followed. Beyond the windows I could see the gleam of +candle-light and moving figures. A man came out of the back door as +I neared it.</p> +<p>"Who's there?" he demanded.</p> +<p>"My name is Barton Baynes from St. Lawrence County. Kate +Fullerton is my friend and I wish to see her."</p> +<p>"Come up to the steps, sor. Don't git off yer horse—'til +I've chained the dog. Kate'll be out in a minute."</p> +<p>He chained the dog to the hitching post and as he did so a loud, +long, wailing cry broke the silence of the house. It put me in mind +of the complaint of the damned which I remembered hearing the +minister describe years before at the little schoolhouse in +Lickitysplit. How it harrowed me!</p> +<p>The man went into the house. Soon he came out of the door with a +lighted candle in his hand, a woman following. How vividly I +remember the little murmur of delight that came from her lips when +he held the candle so that its light fell upon my face! I jumped +off my horse and gave the reins to the man and put my arms around +the poor woman, whom I loved for her sorrows and for my debt to +her, and rained kisses upon her withered cheek. Oh God! what a +moment it was for both of us!</p> +<p>The way she held me to her breast and patted my shoulder and +said "my boy!"—in a low, faint, treble voice so like that of +a child—it is one of the best memories that I take with me +into the new life now so near, from which there is no +returning.</p> +<p>"My boy!'" Did it mean that she had appointed me to be a kind of +proxy for the one she had lost and that she had given to me the +affection which God had stored in her heart for him? Of that, I +know only what may be conveyed by strong but unspoken +assurance.</p> +<p>She led me into the house. She looked very neat now—in a +black gown over which was a spotless white apron and collar of +lace—and much more slender than when I had seen her last. She +took me into a large room in the front of the house with a carpet +and furniture, handsome once but now worn and decrepit. Old, +time-stained engravings of scenes from the Bible, framed in wood, +hung on the walls.</p> +<p>She gave me a chair by the candle-stand and sat near me and +looked into my face with a smile of satisfaction. In a moment she +pointed toward the west with that forefinger, which in my presence +had cut down her enemy, and whispered the one word:</p> +<p>"News?"</p> +<p>I told all that I had heard from home and of my life in +Cobleskill but observed, presently, a faraway look in her eyes and +judged that she was not hearing me. Again she whispered:</p> +<p>"Sally?"</p> +<p>"She has been at school in Albany for a year," I said. "She is +at home now and I am going to see her."</p> +<p>"You love Sally?" she whispered.</p> +<p>"Better than I love my life."</p> +<p>Again she whispered: "Get married!"</p> +<p>"We hope to in 1844. I have agreed to meet her by the big pine +tree on the river bank at eleven o'clock the third of June, 1844. +We are looking forward to that day."</p> +<p>A kind of shadow seemed to come out of her spirit and rest upon +her face and for a moment she looked very solemn. I suppose that +she divined the meaning of all that. She shook her head and +whispered:</p> +<p>"Money thirst!"</p> +<p>A tall, slim woman entered the room then and said that supper +was ready. Kate rose with a smile and I followed her into the +dining-room where two tables were spread. One had certain dishes on +it and a white cover, frayed and worn. She led me to the other +table which was neatly covered with snowy linen. The tall woman +served a supper on deep, blue china, cooked as only they could cook +in old New England. Meanwhile I could hear the voice of the aged +squire—a weird, empty, inhuman voice it was, utterly cut off +from his intelligence. It came out of the troubled depths of his +misery.</p> +<p>So that house—the scene of his great sin which would +presently lie down with him in the dust—was flooded, a +hundred times a day, by the unhappy spirit of its master. In the +dead of the night I heard its despair echoing through the silent +chambers.</p> +<p>Kate said little as we ate, or as we sat together in the shabby, +great room after supper, but she seemed to enjoy my talk and I went +into the details of my personal history. How those years of +suffering and silence had warped her soul and body in a way of +speaking! They were a poor fit in any company now. Her tongue had +lost its taste for speech I doubt not; her voice was gone, although +I had heard a low plaintive murmur in the words "my boy."</p> +<p>The look of her face, even while I was speaking, indicated that +her thoughts wandered restlessly, in the gloomy desert of her past. +I thought of that gay bird—like youth of hers of which the +old man with the scythe had told me and wondered. As I was thinking +of this there came a cry from the aged squire so loud and doleful +that it startled me and I turned and looked toward the open +door.</p> +<p>Kate rose and came to my side and leaning toward my ear +whispered:</p> +<p>"It is my father. He is always thinking of when I was a girl. He +wants me."</p> +<p>She bade me good night and left the room. Doubtless it was the +outraged, departed spirit of that golden time which was haunting +the old squire. A Bible lay on the table near me and I sat reading +it for an hour or so. A tall clock in a corner solemnly tolled the +hour of nine. In came the tall woman and asked in the brogue of the +Irish:</p> +<p>"Would ye like to go to bed?"</p> +<p>"Yes, I am tired."</p> +<p>She took a candle and led me up a broad oaken stairway and into +a room of the most generous proportions. A big four-post bedstead, +draped in white, stood against a wall. The bed, sheeted in old +linen, had quilted covers. The room was noticeably clean; its +furniture of old mahogany and its carpet comparatively unworn.</p> +<p>When I was undressed I dreaded to put out the candle. For the +first time in years I had a kind of child-fear of the night. But I +went to bed at last and slept rather fitfully, waking often when +the cries of the old squire came flooding through the walls. How I +longed for the light of morning! It came at last and I rose and +dressed and seeing the hired man in the yard, went out-of-doors. He +was a good-natured Irishman.</p> +<p>"I'm glad o' the sight o' ye this fine mornin'," said he. "It's +a pleasure to see any one that has all their senses—sure it +is."</p> +<p>I went with him to the stable yard where he did his milking and +talked of his long service with the squire.</p> +<p>"We was glad when he wrote for Kate to come," he said. "But, +sure, I don't think it's done him any good. He's gone wild since +she got here. He was always fond o' his family spite o' all they +say. Did ye see the second table in the dinin'-room? Sure, that's +stood there ever since his first wife et her last meal on it, just +as it was then, sor—the same cloth, the same dishes, the same +sugar in the bowl, the same pickles in the jar. He was like one o' +them big rocks in the field there—ye couldn't move him when +he put his foot down."</p> +<p>Kate met me at the door when I went back into the house and +kissed my cheek and again I heard those half-spoken words, "My +boy." I ate my breakfast with her and when I was about to get into +my saddle at the door I gave her a hug and, as she tenderly patted +my cheek, a smile lighted her countenance so that it seemed to +shine upon me. I have never forgotten its serenity and +sweetness.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>I START IN A LONG WAY</h3> +<p>I journeyed to Canton in the midst of the haying season. After +the long stretches of forest road we hurried along between fragrant +fields of drying hay. At each tavern we first entered the barroom +where the landlord—always a well-dressed man of much dignity +and filled with the news of the time, that being a part of his +entertainment—received us with cheerful words. His +housekeeper was there and assigned our quarters for the night. Our +evenings were spent playing cards or backgammon or listening to the +chatter of our host by the fireside. At our last stop on the road I +opened my trunk and put on my best suit of clothes.</p> +<p>We reached Canton at six o'clock in the evening of a beautiful +summer day. I went at once to call upon the Dunkelbergs and learned +from a man at work in the dooryard that they had gone away for the +summer. How keen was my disappointment! I went to the tavern and +got my supper and then over to Ashery Lane to see Michael Hacket +and his family. I found the schoolmaster playing his violin.</p> +<p>"Now God be praised—here is Bart!" he exclaimed as he put +down his instrument and took my hands in his. "I've heard, my boy, +how bravely ye've weathered the capes an' I'm proud o' +ye—that I am!"</p> +<p>I wondered what he meant for a second and then asked:</p> +<p>"How go these days with you?"</p> +<p>"Swift as the weaver's shuttle," he answered. "Sit you down, +while I call the family. They're out in the kitchen putting the +dishes away. Many hands make light labor."</p> +<p>They came quickly and gathered about me—a noisy, happy +group. The younger children kissed me and sat on my knees and gave +me the small news of the neighborhood.</p> +<p>How good were the look of those friendly faces and the +full-hearted pleasure of the whole family at my coming!</p> +<p>"What a joy for the spare room!" exclaimed the schoolmaster. +"Sure I wouldn't wonder if the old bed was dancin' on its four legs +this very minute."</p> +<p>"I intend to walk up to the hills to-night," I said.</p> +<p>"Up to the hills!" he exclaimed merrily. "An' the Hackets lyin' +awake thinkin' o' ye on the dark road! Try it, boy, an' ye'll get a +crack with the ruler and an hour after school. Yer aunt and uncle +will be stronger to stand yer comin' with the night's rest upon +them. Ye wouldn't be routin' them out o' bed an' they after a hard +day with the hayin'! Then, my kind-hearted lad, ye must give a +thought to Michael Henry. He's still alive an' stronger than +ever—thank God!"</p> +<p>So, although I longed for those most dear to me up in the hills, +I spent the night with the Hackets and the schoolmaster and I sat +an hour together after the family had gone to bed.</p> +<p>"How are the Dunkelbergs?" I asked.</p> +<p>"Sunk in the soft embrace o' luxury," he answered. "Grimshaw +made him; Grimshaw liked him. He was always ready to lick the boots +o' Grimshaw. It turned out that Grimshaw left him an annuity of +three thousand dollars, which he can enjoy as long as he observes +one condition."</p> +<p>"What is that?"</p> +<p>"He must not let his daughter marry one Barton Baynes, late o' +the town o' Ballybeen. How is that for spite, my boy? They say it's +written down in the will."</p> +<p>I think that he must have seen the flame of color playing on my +face, for he quickly added:</p> +<p>"Don't worry, lad. The will o' God is greater than the will o' +Grimshaw. He made you two for each other and she will be true to +ye, as true as the needle to the north star."</p> +<p>"Do you think so?"</p> +<p>"Sure I do. Didn't she as much as tell me that here in this +room—not a week ago? She loves ye, boy, as true as God loves +ye, an' she's a girl of a thousand.</p> +<p>"Her father is a bit too fond o' money. I've never been hard +struck with him. It has always seemed to me that he was afflicted +with perfection—a camellia man!—so invariably neat and +proper and conventional! Such precise and wearisome rectitude! What +a relief it would be to see him in his shirt-sleeves or with soiled +boots or linen or to hear him say something—well-unexpected! +Six shillings a week to the church and four to charity, as if that +were the contract—no more, no less! But did ye ever hear o' +his going out o' his way to do a good thing—say to help a +poor woman left with a lot o' babies or a poor lad that wants to go +to school? 'No, I'm very sorry, but I give four shillings a week to +charity and that's all I can afford.'"</p> +<p>"Why did they go away? Was it because I was coming?"</p> +<p>"I think it likely, my fine lad. The man heard o' it some +way—perhaps through yer uncle. He's crazy for the money, but +he'll get over that. Leave him to me. I've a fine course o' +instruction ready for my Lord o' Dunkelberg."</p> +<p>"I think I shall go and try to find her," I said.</p> +<p>"I am to counsel ye about that," said the schoolmaster. "She's +as keen as a brier—the fox! She says, 'Keep away. Don't alarm +him, or he'll bundle us off to Europe for two or three years.'</p> +<p>"So there's the trail ye travel, my boy. It's the one that keeps +away. Don't let him think ye've anything up the sleeve o' yer mind. +Ye know, lad, I believe Sally's mother has hold o' the same rope +with her and when two clever women get their wits together the +divvle scratches his head. It's an old sayin', lad, an' don't ye go +out an' cut the rope. Keep yer head cool an' yer heart warm and go +right on with yer business. I like the whole plan o' this +remarkable courtship o' yours."</p> +<p>"I guess you like it better than I do," was my answer.</p> +<p>"Ah, my lad, I know the heart o' youth! Ye'd like to be puttin' +yer arms around her—wouldn't ye, now? Sure, there's time +enough! You two young colts are bein' broke' an' bitted. Ye've a +chance now to show yer quality—yer faith, yer loyalty, yer +cleverness. If either one o' ye fails that one isn't worthy o' the +other. Ye're in the old treadmill o' God—the both o' ye! +Ye're bein' weighed an' tried for the great prize. It's not +pleasant, but it's better so. Go on, now, an' do yer best an' +whatever comes take it like a man."</p> +<p>A little silence followed. He broke it with these words:</p> +<p>"Ye're done with that business in Cobleskill, an' I'm glad. Ye +didn't know ye were bein' tried there—did ye? Ye've stood it +like a man. What will ye be doin' now?"</p> +<p>"I'd like to go to Washington with the Senator."</p> +<p>He laughed heartily.</p> +<p>"I was hopin' ye'd say that," he went on. "Well, boy, I think it +can be arranged. I'll see the Senator as soon as ever he comes an' +I believe he'll be glad to know o' yer wishes. I think he's been +hopin', like, that ye would propose it. Go up to the farm and spend +a happy month or two with yer aunt an' uncle. It'll do ye good. +Ye've been growin' plump down there. Go an' melt it off in the +fields."</p> +<p>"How is Deacon Binks?" I asked presently.</p> +<p>"Soul buried in fat! The sparkler on his bosom suggests a +tombstone stickin' out of a soiled snowbank."</p> +<p>A little more talk and we were off to bed with our candles.</p> +<p>Next morning I went down into the main street of the village +before leaving for home. I wanted to see how it looked and, to be +quite frank, I wanted some of the people of Canton to see how I +looked, for my clothes were of the best cloth and cut in the latest +fashion. Many stopped me and shook my hand—men and women who +had never noticed me before, but there was a quality in their +smiles that I didn't quite enjoy. I know now that they thought me a +little too grand on the outside. What a stern-souled lot those +Yankees were! "All ain't gold that glitters." How often I had heard +that version of the old motto!</p> +<p>"Why, you look like the Senator when he is just gittin' home +from the capital," said Mr. Jenison.</p> +<p>They were not yet willing to take me at the par of my +appearance.</p> +<p>I met Betsy Price—one of my schoolmates—on the +street. She was very cordial and told me that the Dunkelbergs had +gone to Saratoga.</p> +<p>"I got a letter from Sally this morning," Betsy went on. "She +said that young Mr. Latour was at the same hotel and that he and +her father were good friends."</p> +<p>I wonder if she really enjoyed sticking this thorn into my +flesh—a thorn which made it difficult for me to follow the +advice of the schoolmaster and robbed me of the little peace I +might have enjoyed. My faith in Sally wavered up and down until it +settled at its wonted level and reassured me.</p> +<p>It was a perfect summer morning and I enjoyed my walk over the +familiar road and up into the hill country. The birds seemed to +sing a welcome to me. Men and boys I had known waved their hats in +the hay-fields and looked at me. There are few pleasures in this +world like that of a boy getting home after a long absence. My +heart beat fast when I saw the house and my uncle and Purvis coming +in from the twenty-acre lot with a load of hay. Aunt Deel stood on +the front steps looking down the road. Now and then her waving +handkerchief went to her eyes. Uncle Peabody came down the standard +off his load and walked toward me.</p> +<p>"Say, stranger, have you seen anything of a feller by the name +o' Bart Baynes?" he demanded.</p> +<p>"Have you?" I asked.</p> +<p>"No, sir, I ain't. Gosh a'mighty! Say! what have ye done with +that boy of our'n?"</p> +<p>"What have you done to our house?" I asked again.</p> +<p>"Built on an addition."</p> +<p>"That's what I've done to your boy," I answered.</p> +<p>"Thunder an' lightnin'! How you've raised the roof!" he +exclaimed as he grabbed my satchel. "Dressed like a statesman an' +bigger'n a bullmoose. I can't 'rastle with you no more. But, say, +I'll run ye a race. I can beat ye an' carry the satchel, too."</p> +<p>We ran pell-mell up the lane to the steps like a pair of +children.</p> +<p>Aunt Deel did not speak. She just put her arms around me and +laid her dear old head upon my breast. Uncle Peabody turned away. +Then what a silence! Off in the edge of the woodland I heard the +fairy flute of a wood-thrush.</p> +<p>"Purvis, you drive that load on the floor an' put up the +hosses," Uncle Peabody shouted in a moment. "If you don't like it +you can hire 'nother man. I won't do no more till after dinner. +This slave business is played out."</p> +<p>"All right," Purvis answered.</p> +<p>"You bet it's all right. I'm fer abolition an' I've stood your +domineerin', nigger-driver ways long enough fer one mornin'. If you +don't like it you can look for another man."</p> +<p>Aunt Deel and I began to laugh at this good-natured, +make-believe scolding of Uncle Peabody and the emotional strain was +over. They led me into the house where a delightful surprise +awaited me, for the rooms had been decorated with balsam boughs and +sweet ferns. A glowing mass of violets, framed in moss, occupied +the center of the table. The house was filled with the odors of the +forest, which, as they knew, were dear to me. I had written that +they might expect me some time before noon, but I had begged them +not to meet me in Canton, as I wished to walk home after my long +ride. So they were ready for me.</p> +<p>I remember how they felt the cloth on my back and how proudly +they surveyed it.</p> +<p>"Couldn't buy them goods 'round these parts," said Uncle +Peabody. "Nor nothin' like 'em—no, sir."</p> +<p>"Feels a leetle bit like the butternut trousers," said Aunt Deel +as she felt my coat.</p> +<p>"Ayes, but them butternut trousers ain't what they used to be +when they was young an' limber," Uncle Peabody remarked. "Seems so +they was gettin' kind o' wrinkled an' baldheaded-like, 'specially +where I set down."</p> +<p>"Ayes! Wal I guess a man can't grow old without his pants +growin' old, too—ayes!" said Aunt Deel.</p> +<p>"If yer legs are in 'em ev'ry Sunday they ketch it of ye," my +uncle answered. "Long sermons are hard on pants, seems to me."</p> +<p>"An' the longer the legs the harder the sermons—in them +little seats over 't the schoolhouse—ayes!" Aunt Deel added +by way of justifying his complaint. "There wouldn't be so much wear +in a ten-mile walk—no!"</p> +<p>The chicken pie was baking and the strawberries were ready for +the shortcake.</p> +<p>"I've been wallerin' since the dew was off gittin' them berries +an' vi'lets—ayes!" said Aunt Deel, now busy with her work at +the stove.</p> +<p>"Aunt, you look as young as ever," I remarked.</p> +<p>She slapped my arm and said with mock severity:</p> +<p>"Stop that! W'y! You know better—ayes!"</p> +<p>How vigorously she stirred the fire then.</p> +<p>"I can't return the compliment—my soul! how you've +changed!—ayes!" she remarked. "I hope you ain't fit no more, +Bart. I can't bear to think o' you flyin' at folks an' poundin' of +'em. Don't seem right—no, it don't!"</p> +<p>"Why, Aunt Deel, what in the world do you mean?" I asked.</p> +<p>"It's Purvis's brain that does the poundin', I guess," said my +uncle. "It's kind o' got the habit. It's a reg'lar beetle brain. To +hear him talk, ye'd think he an' you could clean out the hull +Mexican nation—barrin' accidents. Why, anybody would suppose +that yer enemies go to climbin' trees as soon as they see ye comin' +an' that you pull the trees up by the roots to git at 'em."</p> +<p>"A certain amount of such deviltry is necessary to the comfort +of Mr. Purvis," I remarked. "If there is nobody else to take the +responsibility for it he assumes it himself. His imagination has an +intense craving for blood and violence. It's that type of American +who, egged on by the slave power, is hurrying us into trouble with +Mexico."</p> +<p>Purvis came in presently with a look in his face which betrayed +his knowledge of the fact that all the cobwebs spun by his fancy +were now to be brushed away. Still he enjoyed them while they +lasted and there was a kind of tacit claim in his manner that there +were subjects regarding which no honest man could be expected to +tell the truth.</p> +<p>As we ate our dinner they told me that an escaped slave had come +into a neighboring county and excited the people with stories of +the auction block and of negroes driven like yoked oxen on +plantations in South Carolina, whence he had escaped on a +steamboat.</p> +<p>"I b'lieve I'm goin' to vote for abolition," said Uncle Peabody. +"I wonder what Sile Wright will say to that."</p> +<p>"He'll probably advise against it, the time isn't ripe for so +great a change," was my answer. "He thinks that the whole matter +should be left to the glacial action of time's forces."</p> +<p>Indeed I had spoken the view of the sounder men of the North. +The subject filled them with dread alarm. But the attitude of Uncle +Peabody was significant. The sentiment in favor of a change was +growing. It was now to be reckoned with, for the abolition party +was said to hold the balance of power in New York and New England +and was behaving itself like a bull in a china shop.</p> +<p>After dinner I tried to put on some of my old clothes, but found +that my nakedness had so expanded that they would not cover it, so +I hitched my white mare on the spring wagon and drove to the +village for my trunk.</p> +<p>Every week day after that I worked in the fields until the +Senator arrived in Canton about the middle of August. On one of +those happy days I received a letter from old Kate, dated, to my +surprise, in Saratoga. It said:</p> +<div class="blockquot"> +<p>"DEAR BARTON BAYNES—I thought I would let you know that my +father is dead. I have come here to rest and have found some work +to do. I am better now. Have seen Sally. She is very beautiful and +kind. She does not know that I am the old witch, I have changed so. +The others do not know—it is better that way. I think it was +the Lord that brought me here. He has a way of taking care of some +people, my boy. Do you remember when I began to call you my +boy—you were very little. It is long, long ago since I first +saw you in your father's dooryard—you said you were going to +mill on a butterfly's back. You looked just as I thought my boy +would look. You gave me a kiss. What a wonderful gift it was to me +then! I began to love you. I have no one else to think of now. I +hope you won't mind my thinking so much of you.</p> +<p>"God bless you,<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">KATE FULLERTON."</span></p> +</div> +<p>I understood now why the strong will and singular insight of +this woman had so often exercised themselves in my behalf. I could +not remember the far day and the happy circumstance of which she +spoke, but I wrote her a letter which must have warmed her heart I +am sure.</p> +<p>Silas Wright arrived in Canton and drove up to our home. He +reached our door at eight in the morning with his hound and rifle. +He had aged rapidly since I had seen him last. His hair was almost +white. There were many new lines in his face. He seemed more grave +and dignified. He did not lapse into the dialect of his fathers +when he spoke of the ancient pastimes of hunting and fishing as he +had been wont to do.</p> +<p>"Bart," he said when the greetings were over, "let's you and me +go and spend a day in the woods. I'll leave my man here to help +your uncle while you're gone."</p> +<p>We went by driving south a few miles and tramping in to the foot +of the stillwater on our river—a trail long familiar to me. +The dog left us soon after we took it and began to range over thick +wooded hills. We sat down among small, spire-like spruces at the +river's edge with a long stretch of water in sight while the music +of the hound's voice came faintly to our ears from the distant +forest.</p> +<p>"Oh, I've been dreaming of this for a long time," said the +Senator as he leaned back against a tree and filled his lungs and +looked out upon the water, green with lily-pads along the edge and +flecked with the last of the white blossoms. "I believe you want to +leave this lovely country."</p> +<p>"I am waiting for the call to go," I said.</p> +<p>"Well, I'm inclined to think you are the kind of man who ought +to go," he answered almost sadly. "You are needed. I have been +waiting until we should meet to congratulate you on your behavior +at Cobleskill. I think you have the right spirit—that is the +all-important matter. You will encounter strange company in the +game of politics. Let me tell you a story."</p> +<p>He told me many stories of his life in Washington, interrupted +by a sound like that of approaching footsteps. We ceased talking +and presently a flock of partridges came near us, pacing along over +the mat of leaves in a leisurely fashion. We sat perfectly still. A +young cock bird with his beautiful ruff standing out, like the hair +on the back of a frightened dog, strode toward us with a comic +threat in his manner. It seemed as if he were of half a mind to +knock us into the river. But we sat as still as stumps and he +spared us and went on with the others.</p> +<p>The baying of the hound was nearer now. Suddenly we saw a big +buck come down to the shore of the cove near us and on our side of +the stream. He looked to right and left. Then he made a long leap +into the water and waded slowly until it covered him. He raised his +nose and laid his antlers back over his shoulders and swam quietly +down-stream, his nose just showing above the water. His antlers +were like a bit of driftwood. If we had not seen him take the water +his antlers might easily have passed for a bunch of dead sticks. +Soon the buck slowly lifted his head and turned his neck and looked +at both shores. Then very deliberately he resumed his place under +water and went on. We watched him as he took the farther shore +below us and made off in the woods again.</p> +<p>"I couldn't shoot at him, it was such a beautiful bit of +politics," said the Senator.</p> +<p>Soon the hound reached the cove's edge and swam the river and +ranged up and down the bank for half an hour before he found the +buck's trail again.</p> +<p>"I've seen many a rascal, driven to water by the hounds, go +swimming away as slyly as that buck, with their horns in the air, +looking as innocent as a bit of driftwood. They come in from both +shores—the Whig and the Democratic—and they are always +shot at from one bank or the other."</p> +<p>I remember it surprised me a little to hear him say that they +came in from both shores.</p> +<p>"Just what do you want to do?" he asked presently.</p> +<p>"I should like to go down to Washington with you and help you in +any way that I can."</p> +<p>"All right, partner—we'll try it," he answered gravely. "I +hope that I don't forget and work you as hard as I work myself. It +wouldn't be decent. I have a great many letters to write. I'll try +thinking out loud while you take them down in sound-hand. Then you +can draft them neatly and I'll sign them. You have tact and good +manners and can do many of my errands for me and save me from those +who have no good reason for taking up my time. You will meet the +best people and the worst. There's just a chance that it may come +to something worth while—who knows? You are young yet. It +will be good training and you will witness the making of some +history now and then."</p> +<p>What elation I felt!</p> +<p>Again the voice of the hound which had been ringing in the +distant hills was coming nearer.</p> +<p>"We must keep watch—another deer is coming," said the +Senator.</p> +<p>We had only a moment's watch before a fine yearling buck came +down to the opposite shore and stood looking across the river. The +Senator raised his rifle and fired. The buck fell in the edge of +the water.</p> +<p>"How shall we get him?" my friend asked.</p> +<p>"It will not be difficult," I answered as I began to undress. +Nothing was difficult those days. I swam the river and towed the +buck across with a beech withe in his gambrel joints. The hound +joined me before I was half across with my burden and nosed the +carcass and swam on ahead yelping with delight.</p> +<p>We dressed the deer and then I had the great joy of carrying him +on my back two miles across the country to the wagon. The Senator +wished to send a guide for the deer, but I insisted that the +carrying was my privilege.</p> +<p>"Well, I guess your big thighs and broad shoulders can stand +it," said he.</p> +<p>"My uncle has always said that no man could be called a hunter +until he can go into the woods without a guide and kill a deer and +bring it out on his back. I want to be able to testify that I am at +least partly qualified."</p> +<p>"Your uncle didn't say anything about fetching the deer across a +deep river without a boat, did he?" Mr. Wright asked me with a +smile.</p> +<p>Leaves of the beeches, maples and basswoods—yellowed by +frost—hung like tiny lanterns, glowing with noonday light, +above the dim forest-aisle which we traveled.</p> +<p>The sun was down when we got to the clearing.</p> +<p>"What a day it has been!" said Mr. Wright when we were seated in +the wagon at last with the hound and the deer's head between his +feet and mine.</p> +<p>"One of the best in my life," I answered with a joy in my heart +the like of which I have rarely known in these many years that have +come to me.</p> +<p>We rode on in silence with the calls of the swamp robin and the +hermit thrush ringing in our ears as the night fell.</p> +<p>"It's a good time to think, and there we take different roads," +said my friend. "You will turn into the future and I into the +past."</p> +<p>"I've been thinking about your uncle," he said by and by. "He is +one of the greatest men I have ever known. You knew of that foolish +gossip about him—didn't you?"</p> +<p>"Yes," I answered.</p> +<p>"Well, now, he's gone about his business the same as ever and +showed by his life that it couldn't be true. Not a word out of him! +But Dave Ramsey fell sick—down on the flat last winter. By +and by his children were crying for bread and the poor-master was +going to take charge of them. Well, who should turn up there, just +in the nick of time, but Delia and Peabody Baynes. They fed those +children all winter and kept them in clothes so that they could go +to school. The strange thing about it is this: it was Dave Ramsey +who really started that story. He got up in church the other night +and confessed his crime. His conscience wouldn't let him keep it. +He said that he had not seen Peabody Baynes on that road the day +the money was lost but had only heard that he was there. He knew +now that he couldn't have been there. Gosh t'almighty! as your +uncle used to say when there was nothing else to be said."</p> +<p>It touched me to the soul—this long-delayed vindication of +my beloved Uncle Peabody.</p> +<p>The Senator ate supper with us and sent his hired man out for +his horse and buggy. When he had put on his overcoat and was about +to go he turned to my uncle and said:</p> +<p>"Peabody Baynes, if I have had any success in the world it is +because I have had the exalted honor and consciousness that I +represented men like you."</p> +<p>He left us and we sat down by the glowing candles. Soon I told +them what Ramsey had done. There was a moment of silence. Uncle +Peabody rose and went to the water-pail for a drink.</p> +<p>"Bart, I believe I'll plant corn on that ten-acre lot next +spring—darned if I don't," he said as he returned to his +chair.</p> +<p>None of us ever spoke of the matter again to my knowledge.</p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>ON THE SUMMIT</h3> +<p>My mental assets would give me a poor rating I presume in the +commerce of modern scholarship when I went to Washington that +autumn with Senator and Mrs. Wright. Still it was no smattering +that I had, but rather a few broad areas of knowledge which were +firmly in my possession. I had acquired, quite by myself since +leaving the academy, a fairly serviceable reading knowledge of +French; I had finished the <i>Æneid</i>; I had read the +tragedies of Shakespeare and could repeat from them many striking +passages; I had read the histories of Abbott and the works of +Washington Irving and certain of the essays of Carlyle and +Macaulay. My best asset was not mental but spiritual, if I may be +allowed to say it, in all modesty, for, therein I claim no special +advantage, saving, possibly, an unusual strength of character in my +aunt and uncle. Those days the candles were lighting the best +trails of knowledge all over the land. Never has the general spirit +of this republic been so high and admirable as then and a little +later. It was to speak, presently, in the immortal voices of +Whittier, Emerson, Whitman, Greeley and Lincoln. The dim glow of +the candles had entered their souls and out of them came a light +that filled the land and was seen of all men. What became of this +mighty spirit of democracy? My friend, it broke down and came near +its death in a long, demoralizing war which gave to our young men a +thorough four-year course in the ancient school of infamy.</p> +<p>The railroads on which we traveled from Utica, the great cities +through which we passed, were a wonder and an inspiration to me. I +was awed by the grandeur of Washington itself. I took lodgings with +the Senator and his wife.</p> +<p>"Now, Bart," said he, when we had arrived, "I'm going to turn +you loose here for a little while before I put harness on you. Go +about for a week or so and get the lay of the land and the feel of +it. Mrs. Wright will be your guide until the general situation has +worked its way into your consciousness."</p> +<p>It seemed to me that there was not room enough in my +consciousness for the great public buildings and the pictures and +the statues and the vast machinery of the government. Beauty and +magnitude have a wonderful effect when they spring fresh upon the +vision of a youth out of the back country. I sang of the look of +them in my letters and soon I began to think about them and +imperfectly to understand them. They had their epic, lyric and +dramatic stages in my consciousness.</p> +<p>One afternoon we went to hear Senator Wright speak. He was to +answer Calhoun on a detail of the banking laws. The floor and +galleries were filled. With what emotion I saw him rise and begin +his argument as all ears bent to hear him! He aimed not at popular +sentiments in highly finished rhetoric, as did Webster, to be +quoted in the school-books and repeated on every platform. But no +words of mine—and I have used many in the effort—are +able to convey a notion of the masterful ease and charm of his +manner on the floor of the Senate or of the singular modesty, +courtesy, aptness and simplicity of his words as they fell from his +lips. There were the thunderous Webster, the grandeur of whose +sentences no American has equaled; the agile-minded Clay, whose +voice was like a silver clarion; the farseeing, fiery Calhoun, of +"the swift sword"—most formidable in debate—but I was +soon to learn that neither nor all of these men—gifted of +heaven so highly—could cope with the suave, incisive, +conversational sentences of Wright, going straight to the heart of +the subject and laying it bare to his hearers. That was what people +were saying as we left the Senate chamber, late in the evening; +that, indeed, was what they were always saying after they had heard +him answer an adversary.</p> +<p>He had a priceless and unusual talent for avoiding school-reader +English and the arts of declamation and for preparing a difficult +subject to enter the average brain. The underlying secret of his +power was soon apparent to me. He stood always for that great thing +in America which, since then, Whitman has called "the divine +aggregate," and seeing clearly how every measure would be likely to +affect its welfare, he followed the compass. It had led him to a +height of power above all others and was to lead him unto the +loneliest summit of accomplishment in American history.</p> +<p>Not much in my term of service there is important to this little +task of mine. I did my work well, if I may believe the Senator, and +grew familiar with the gentle and ungentle arts of the +politician.</p> +<p>One great fact grew in magnitude and sullen portent as the +months passed: the gigantic slave-holding interests of the South +viewed with growing alarm the spread of abolition sentiment. +Subtly, quietly and naturally they were feeling for the means to +defend and increase their power. Straws were coming to the surface +in that session which betrayed this deep undercurrent of purpose. +We felt it and the Senator was worried I knew, but held his peace. +He knew how to keep his opinions until the hour had struck that +summoned them to service. The Senator never played with his lance. +By and by Spencer openly sounded the note of conflict.</p> +<p>The most welcome year of my life dawned on the first of January, +1844. I remember that I arose before daylight that morning and +dressed and went out on the street to welcome it.</p> +<p>I had less than six months to wait for that day appointed by +Sally. I had no doubt that she would be true to me. I had had my +days of fear and depression, but always my sublime faith in her +came back in good time.</p> +<p>Oh, yes, indeed, Washington was a fair of beauty and gallantry +those days. I saw it all. I have spent many years in the capital +and I tell you the girls of that time had manners and knew how to +wear their clothes, but again the magic of old memories kept my +lady on her throne. There was one of them—just one of those +others who, I sometimes thought, was almost as graceful and +charming and noble-hearted as Sally, and she liked me I know, but +the ideal of my youth glowed in the light of the early morning, so +to speak, and was brighter than all others. Above all, I had given +my word to Sally and—well, you know, the old-time Yankee of +good stock was fairly steadfast, whatever else may be said of +him—often a little too steadfast, as were Ben Grimshaw and +Squire Fullerton.</p> +<p>The Senator and I went calling that New Year's day. We saw all +the great people and some of them were more cheerful than they had +a right to be. It was a weakness of the time. I shall not go into +details for fear of wandering too far from my main road. Let me +step aside a moment to say, however, that there were two clouds in +the sky of the Washington society of those days. One was strong +drink and the other was the crude, rough-coated, aggressive +democrat from the frontiers of the West. These latter were often +seen in the holiday regalia of farm or village at fashionable +functions. Some of them changed slowly and, by and by, reached the +stage of white linen and diamond breast-pins and waistcoats of +figured silk. It must be said, however, that their motives were +always above their taste.</p> +<p>The winter wore away slowly in hard work. Mr. Van Buren came +down to see the Senator one day from his country seat on the +Hudson. The Ex-president had been solicited to accept the +nomination again. I know that Senator Wright strongly favored the +plan but feared that the South would defeat him in convention, it +being well known that Van Buren was opposed to the annexation of +Texas—a pet project of the slave-holders. However, he advised +his friend to make a fight for the nomination and this the latter +resolved to do. Thenceforward until middle May I gave my time +largely to the inditing of letters for the Senator in Van Buren's +behalf.</p> +<p>The time appointed for the convention in Baltimore drew near. +One day the Senator received an intimation that he would be put in +nomination if Van Buren failed. Immediately he wrote to Judge Fine, +of Ogdensburg, chairman of the delegation from the northern +district of New York, forbidding such use of his name on the ground +that his acquiescence would involve disloyalty to his friend the +Ex-president.</p> +<p>He gave me leave to go to the convention on my way home to meet +Sally. I had confided to Mrs. Wright the details of my little love +affair—I had to—and she had shown a tender, sympathetic +interest in the story.</p> +<p>The Senator had said to me one day, with a gentle smile:</p> +<p>"Bart, you have business in Canton, I believe, with which +trifling matters like the choice of a president and the Mexican +question can not be permitted to interfere. You must take time to +spend a day or two at the convention in Baltimore on your way.... +Report to our friend Fine, who will look after your comfort there. +The experience ought to be useful to a young man who, I hope, will +have work to do in future conventions."</p> +<p>I took the stage to Baltimore next day—the twenty-sixth of +May. The convention thrilled me—the flags, the great crowd, +the bands, the songs, the speeches, the cheering—I see and +hear it all in my talk. The uproar lasted for twenty minutes when +Van Buren's name was put in nomination.</p> +<p>Then the undercurrent! The slave interest of the South was +against him as Wright had foreseen. The deep current of its power +had undermined certain of the northern and western delegations. +Ostensibly for Van Buren and stubbornly casting their ballots for +him, they had voted for the two-thirds rule, which had accomplished +his defeat before the balloting began. It continued for two days +without a choice. The enemy stood firm. After adjournment that +evening many of the Van Buren delegates were summoned to a +conference. I attended it with Judge Fine.</p> +<p>The Ex-president had withdrawn and requested his friends in the +convention to vote for Silas Wright. My emotions can be more +readily imagined than described when I heard the shouts of +enthusiasm which greeted my friend's name. Tears began to roll down +my cheeks. Judge Fine lifted his hand. When order was at last +restored he began:</p> +<p>"Gentlemen, as a friend of the learned Senator and as a resident +of the county which is the proud possessor of his home, your +enthusiasm has a welcome sound to me; but I happen to know that +Senator Wright will not allow his name to go before the +convention."</p> +<p>He read the letter of which I knew.</p> +<p>Mr. Benjamin F. Butler then said:</p> +<p>"When that letter was written Senator Wright was not aware that +Mr. Van Buren's nomination could not be accomplished, nor was he +aware that his own nomination would be the almost unanimous wish of +this convention. I have talked with the leading delegates from +Missouri and Virginia to-day. They say that he can be nominated by +acclamation. Is it possible that he—a strong party +man—can resist this unanimous call of the party with whose +help he has won immortal fame? No, it is not so. It can not be so. +We must dispatch a messenger to him by horse at once who shall take +to him from his friend Judge Fine a frank statement of the +imperious demand of this convention and a request that he telegraph +a withdrawal of his letter in the morning."</p> +<p>The suggestion was unanimously approved and within an hour, +mounted on one of the best horses in Maryland—so his groom +informed me—I was on my way to Washington with the message of +Judge Fine in my pocket. Yes, I had two days to spare on my +schedule of travel and reckoned that, by returning to Baltimore +next day I should reach Canton in good time.</p> +<p>It was the kind of thing that only a lithe, supple, +strong-hearted lad such as I was in the days of my youth, could +relish—speeding over a dark road by the light of the stars +and a half-moon, with a horse that loved to kick up a wind. My +brain was in a fever, for the notion had come to me that I was +making history.</p> +<p>The lure of fame and high place hurried me on. With the Senator +in the presidential chair I should be well started in the highway +of great success. Then Mr. H. Dunkelberg might think me better than +the legacy of Benjamin Grimshaw. A relay awaited me twenty-three +miles down the road.</p> +<p>Well, I reached Washington very sore, but otherwise in good +form, soon after daybreak. I was trembling with excitement when I +put my horse in the stable and rang the bell at our door. It seemed +to me that I was crossing the divide between big and little things. +A few steps more and I should be looking down into the great valley +of the future. Yet, now that I was there, I began to lose +confidence.</p> +<p>The butler opened the door.</p> +<p>Yes, the Senator was up and had just returned from a walk and +was in his study. I found him there.</p> +<p>"Well, Bart, how does this happen?" he asked.</p> +<p>"It's important business," I said, as I presented the +letter.</p> +<p>Something in his look and manner as he calmly adjusted his +glasses and read the letter of Judge Fine brought the blood to my +face. It seemed to puncture my balloon, so to speak, and I was +falling toward the earth and so swiftly my head swam. He laid the +letter on his desk and, without looking up and as coolly as if he +were asking for the change of a dollar, queried:</p> +<p>"Well, Bart, what do you think we had better do about it?"</p> +<p>"I—I was hoping—you—you would take it," I +stammered.</p> +<p>"That's because the excitement of the convention is on you," he +answered. "Let us look at the compass. They have refused to +nominate Mr. Van Buren because he is opposed to the annexation of +Texas. On that subject the will of the convention is now clear. It +is possible that they would nominate me. We don't know about that, +we never shall know. If they did, and I accepted, what would be +expected of me is also clear. They would expect me to abandon my +principles and that course of conduct which I conceive to be best +for the country. Therefore I should have to accept it under false +pretenses and take their yoke upon me. Would you think the needle +pointed that way?"</p> +<p>"No," I answered.</p> +<p>Immediately he turned to his desk and wrote the telegram which +fixed his place in history. It said no.</p> +<p>Into the lives of few men has such a moment fallen. I am sure +the Lord God must have thought it worth a thousand years of the +world's toil. It was that moment in the life of a great leader when +Satan shows him the kingdoms of the earth and their glory. I looked +at him with a feeling of awe. What sublime calmness and serenity +was in his face! As if it were a mere detail in the work of the +day, and without a moment's faltering, he had declined a crown, for +he would surely have been nominated and elected. He rose and stood +looking out of the open window. Always I think of him standing +there with the morning sunlight falling upon his face and +shoulders. He had observed my emotion and I think it had touched +him a little. There was a moment of silence. A curious illusion +came to me then, for it seemed as if I heard the sound of distant +music. Looking thoughtfully out of the window he asked:</p> +<p>"Bart, do you know when our first fathers turned out of the +trail of the beast and found the long road of humanity? I think it +was when they discovered the compass in their hearts."</p> +<p>So now at last we have come to that high and lonely place, where +we may look back upon the toilsome, adventurous way we have +traveled with the aid of the candle and the compass. Now let us +stop a moment to rest and to think. How sweet the air is here! The +night is falling. I see the stars in the sky. Just below me is the +valley of Eternal Silence. You will understand my haste now. I have +sought only to do justice to my friend and to give my country a +name, long neglected, but equal in glory to those of Washington and +Lincoln.</p> +<p>Come, let us take one last look together down the road we have +traveled, now dim in the evening shadows. Scattered along it are +the little houses of the poor of which I have written. See the +lights in the windows—the lights that are shining into the +souls of the young—the eager, open, expectant, welcoming +souls of the young!—and the light carries many things, but +best of all a respect for the old, unchanging way of the compass. +After all that is the end and aim of the whole matter—believe +me.</p> +<p>My life has lengthened into these days when most of our tasks +are accomplished by machinery. We try to make men by the thousand, +in vast educational machines, and no longer by the one as of old. +It was the loving, forgiving, forbearing, patient, ceaseless toil +of mother and father on the tender soul of childhood, which +quickened that inextinguishable sense of responsibility to God and +man in these people whom I now leave to the judgment of my +countrymen.</p> +<p>I have lived to see the ancient plan of kingcraft, for +self-protection, coming back into the world. It demands that the +will and conscience of every individual shall be regulated and +controlled by some conceited prince, backed by an army. It can not +fail, I foresee, to accomplish such devastation in the human spirit +as shall imperil the dearest possession of man.</p> +<p>If one is to follow the compass he can have but one +king—his God.</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>I am near the end. I rode back to Baltimore that forenoon. They +had nominated Mr. Polk, of Tennessee, for president and Silas +Wright for vice-president, the latter by acclamation. I knew that +Wright would decline the honor, as he did.</p> +<p>I hurried northward to keep my appointment with Sally. The boats +were slowed by fog. At Albany I was a day behind my schedule. I +should have only an hour's leeway if the boats on the upper lakes +and the stage from Plattsburg were on time. I feared to trust them. +So I caught the west-bound train and reached Utica three hours +late. There I bought a good horse and his saddle and bridle and +hurried up the north road. When he was near spent I traded him for +a well-knit Morgan mare up in the little village of Sandy Creek. +Oh, I knew a good horse as well as the next man and a better one +than she I never owned—never. I was back in my saddle at six +in the afternoon and stopped for feed and an hour's rest at nine +and rode on through the night. I reached the hamlet of Richville +soon after daybreak and put out for a rest of two hours. I could +take it easy then. At seven o'clock the mare and I started again, +well fed and eager to go on.</p> +<p>It was a summer morning that shortens the road—even that +of the young lover. Its air was sweet with the breath of the +meadows. The daisies and the clover and the cornflowers and the +wild roses seemed to be waving a welcome to me and the thorn +trees—shapely ornament of my native hills—were in +blossom. A cloud of pigeons swept across the blue deep above my +head. The great choir of the fields sang to me—bobolinks, +song sparrows, meadowlarks, bluebirds, warblers, wrens, and far +away in the edge of a spruce thicket I heard the flute of the +white-throated sparrow in this refrain:</p> +<div class="figcenter"><img src= +"images/illus416.png" width="60%" alt="" title="" /><br /> +<br /></div> +<p>When, years later, I heard the wedding march in Lohengrin I knew +where Wagner had got his theme.</p> +<p>I bathed at a brook in the woods and put on a clean silk shirt +and tie out of my saddlebags. I rode slowly then to the edge of the +village of Canton and turned at the bridge and took the river road, +although I had time to spare. How my heart was beating as I neared +the familiar scene! The river slowed its pace there, like a +discerning traveler, to enjoy the beauty of its shores. Smooth and +silent was the water and in it were the blue of the sky and the +feathery shadow-spires of cedar and tamarack and the reflected +blossoms of iris and meadow rue. It was a lovely scene.</p> +<p>There was the pine, but where was my lady? I dismounted and tied +my mare and looked at my watch. It lacked twenty minutes of eleven. +She would come—I had no doubt of it. I washed my hands and +face and neck in the cool water. Suddenly I heard a voice I knew +singing: <i>Barney Leave the Girls Alone</i>. I turned and +saw—your mother, my son<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id= +"FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class= +"fnanchor">[1]</a>. She was in the stern of a birch canoe, all +dressed in white with roses in her hair. I raised my hat and she +threw a kiss at me. Old Kate sat in the bow waving her +handkerchief. They stopped and Sally asked in a tone of playful +seriousness:</p> +<div class="footnote"> +<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href= +"#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> These last lines +were dictated to his son.</p> +</div> +<p>"Young man, why have you come here?"</p> +<p>"To get you," I answered.</p> +<p>"What do you want of me?" She was looking at her face in the +water.</p> +<p>"I want to marry you," I answered bravely.</p> +<p>"Then you may help me ashore if you please. I am in my best, +white slippers and you are to be very careful."</p> +<p>Beautiful! She was the spirit of the fields of June then and +always.</p> +<p>I helped her ashore and held her in my arms and, you know, the +lips have a way of speaking then in the old, convincing, final +argument of love. They left no doubt in our hearts, my son.</p> +<p>"When do you wish to marry me?" she whispered.</p> +<p>"As soon as possible, but my pay is only sixty dollars a month +now."</p> +<p>"We shall make it do," she answered. "My mother and father and +your aunt and uncle and the Hackets and the minister and a number +of our friends are coming in a fleet of boats."</p> +<p>"We are prepared either for a picnic or a wedding," was the +whisper of Kate.</p> +<p>"Let's make it both," I proposed to Sally.</p> +<p>"Surely there couldn't be a better place than here under the big +pine—it's so smooth and soft and shady," said she.</p> +<p>"Nor could there be a better day or better company," I urged, +for I was not sure that she would agree.</p> +<p>The boats came along. Sally and I waved a welcome from the bank +and she merrily proclaimed:</p> +<p>"It's to be a wedding."</p> +<p>Then a cheer from the boats, in which I joined.</p> +<p>I shall never forget how, when the company had landed and the +greetings were over, Uncle Peabody approached your mother and +said:</p> +<p>"Say, Sally, I'm goin' to plant a kiss on both o' them red +cheeks o' yours, an' do it deliberate, too." He did it and so did +Aunt Deel and old Kate, and I think that, next to your mother and +me, they were the happiest people at the wedding.</p> +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> +<p>There is a lonely grave up in the hills—that of the +stranger who died long ago on Rattleroad. One day I found old Kate +sitting beside it and on a stone lately erected there was the name, +Enoch Rone.</p> +<p>"It is very sorrowful," she whispered. "He was trying to find me +when he died."</p> +<p>We walked on in silence while I recalled the circumstances. How +strange that those tales of blood and lawless daring which Kate had +given to Amos Grimshaw had led to the slaying of her own son! Yet, +so it happened, and the old wives will tell you the story up there +in the hills.</p> +<p>The play ends just as the night is falling with Kate and me +entering the little home, so familiar now, where she lives and is +ever welcome with Aunt Deel and Uncle Peabody. The latter meets us +at the door and is saying in a cheerful voice:</p> +<p>"Come in to supper, you rovers. How solemn ye look! Say, if you +expect Sally and me to do all the laughin' here you're mistaken. +There's a lot of it to be done right now, an' it's time you j'ined +in. We ain't done nothin' but laugh since we got up, an' we're in +need o' help. What's the matter, Kate? Look up at the light in +God's winder. How bright it shines to-night! When I feel bad I +always look at the stars."</p> +<h3>THE END</h3> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h2><a name="EPILOGUE" id="EPILOGUE"></a>EPILOGUE</h2> +<p><i>Wanted by all the people</i>—<br /> +A servant<br /> +Born of those who serve and aspire<br /> +Who has known want and trouble<br /> +And all that passes in The Little House of the Poor:<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Lonely thought, counsels of love +and prudence,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The happiness born of a +penny,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The need of the strange and mighty +dollar</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">And the love of things above all +its power of measurement.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The dreams that come of weariness +and the hard bed,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The thirst for learning as a Great +Deliverer.</span><br /> +Who has felt in his heart the weakness and the strength of his +brothers<br /> +And, above all, the divinity that dwells in them.<br /> +Who, therefore, shall have faith in men and women<br /> +And knowledge of their wrongs and needs and of their proneness to +error.<br /> +Humbly must he listen to their voice, as one who knows that God +will<br /> +<span style="margin-left: 1em;">often speak in it,</span><br /> +And have charity even for his own judgments.<br /> +Thus removed, far removed from the conceit and vanity of +Princes<br /> +Shall he know how great is the master he has chosen to serve.</p> + +<p> </p> +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14150 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/14150-h/images/illus001.jpg b/14150-h/images/illus001.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d751377 --- /dev/null +++ b/14150-h/images/illus001.jpg diff --git a/14150-h/images/illus040.jpg b/14150-h/images/illus040.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5b3d7a0 --- /dev/null +++ b/14150-h/images/illus040.jpg diff --git a/14150-h/images/illus220.jpg b/14150-h/images/illus220.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..bc724cb --- /dev/null +++ b/14150-h/images/illus220.jpg diff --git a/14150-h/images/illus292.jpg b/14150-h/images/illus292.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3247ef3 --- /dev/null +++ b/14150-h/images/illus292.jpg diff --git a/14150-h/images/illus416.png b/14150-h/images/illus416.png Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..666c655 --- /dev/null +++ b/14150-h/images/illus416.png |
