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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/15230-8.txt b/15230-8.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b5cfffb --- /dev/null +++ b/15230-8.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4540 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories +by Alice Hegan Rice + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + +Release Date: March 2, 2005 [EBook #15230] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MINK'S SOLDIER *** + + + + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, Josephine +Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + + + + + + + + + +MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + +AND OTHER STORIES + + +[Illustration: Then Miss Mink received a shock] + + + + +MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + +AND OTHER STORIES + +BY + +ALICE HEGAN RICE + +Author of "MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH," "MR. OPP," "CALVARY ALLEY," +ETC. + + +NEW YORK +THE CENTURY CO. +1918 + + + + +Copyright, 1905, 1906, 1910, 1918, by THE CENTURY CO. + +Copyright, 1914, by THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY + +_Published, October, 1918_ + + + + + TO + THE LADY OF THE DECORATION + + A MEMENTO OF MANY HAPPY DAYS + SPENT TOGETHER "EAST OF SUEZ" + + + + +CONTENTS + + MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + + A DARLING OF MISFORTUNE + + "POP" + + HOODOOED + + A MATTER OF FRIENDSHIP + + THE WILD OATS OF A SPINSTER + + CUPID GOES SLUMMING + + THE SOUL OF O SANA SAN + + + + +MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + + +Miss Mink sat in church with lips compressed and hands tightly clasped +in her black alpaca lap, and stubbornly refused to comply with the +request that was being made from the pulpit. She was a small desiccated +person, with a sharp chin and a sharper nose, and narrow faded eyes that +through the making of innumerable buttonholes had come to resemble them. + +For over forty years she had sat in that same pew facing that same +minister, regarding him second only to his Maker, and striving in +thought and deed to follow his precepts. But the time had come when Miss +Mink's blind allegiance wavered. + +Ever since the establishment of the big Cantonment near the city, Dr. +Morris, in order to encourage church attendance, had been insistent in +his request that every member of his congregation should take a soldier +home to Sunday dinner. + +Now it was no lack of patriotism that made Miss Mink refuse to do her +part. Every ripple in the small flag that fluttered over her humble +dwelling sent a corresponding ripple along her spinal column. When she +essayed to sing "My Country, 'Tis of Thee," in her high, quavering +soprano, she invariably broke down from sheer excess of emotion. But the +American army fighting for right and freedom in France, and the Army +individually tracking mud into her spotless cottage, were two very +different things. Miss Mink had always regarded a man in her house much +as she regarded a gnat in her eye. There was but one course to pursue in +either case--elimination! + +But her firm stand in the matter had not been maintained without much +misgiving. Every Sunday when Dr. Morris made his earnest appeal, +something within urged her to comply. She was like an automobile that +gets cranked up and then refuses to go. Church-going instead of being +her greatest joy came to be a nightmare. She no longer lingered in the +vestibule, for those highly cherished exchanges of inoffensive gossip +that constituted her social life. Nobody seemed to have time for her. +Every one was busy with a soldier. Within the sanctuary it was no +better. Each khaki-clad figure that dotted the congregation claimed her +attention as a possible candidate for hospitality. And each one that +presented himself to her vision was indignantly repudiated. One was too +old, another too young, one too stylish, another had forgotten to wash +his ears. She found a dozen excuses for withholding her invitation. + +But this morning as she sat upright and uncompromising in her short pew, +she was suddenly thrown into a state of agitation by the appearance in +the aisle of an un-ushered soldier who, after hesitating beside one or +two pews, slipped into the seat beside her. It seemed almost as if +Providence had taken a hand and since she had refused to select a +soldier, had prompted a soldier to select her. + +During the service she sat gazing straight at the minister without +comprehending a word that he said. Never once did her glance stray to +that khaki-clad figure beside her, but her thoughts played around him +like lightning. What if she should get up her courage and ask him to +dinner, how would she ever be able to walk out the street with him! And +once she had got him to her cottage, what on earth would she talk to him +about? Her hands grew cold as she thought about it. Yet something warned +her it was now or never, and that it was only by taking the hated step +and getting it over with, that she could regain the peace of mind that +had of late deserted her. + +The Doxology found her weakening, but the Benediction stiffened her +resolve, and when the final Amen sounded, she turned blindly to the man +beside her, and said, hardly above her breath: + +"If you ain't got any place to go to dinner, you can come home with me." + +The tall figure turned toward her, and a pair of melancholy brown eyes +looked down into hers: + +"You will excuse if I do not quite comprehend your meaning," he said +politely, with a strong foreign accent. + +Miss Mink was plunged into instant panic; suppose he was a German? +Suppose she should be convicted for entertaining a spy! Then she +remembered his uniform and was slightly reassured. + +"I said would you come home to dinner with me?" she repeated weakly, +with a fervent prayer that he would decline. + +But the soldier had no such intention. He bowed gravely, and picked up +his hat and overcoat. + +Miss Mink, looking like a small tug towing a big steamer, shamefacedly +made her way to the nearest exit, and got him out through the +Sunday-school room. She would take him home through a side street, feed +him and send him away as soon as possible. It was a horrible ordeal, but +Miss Mink was not one to turn back once she had faced a difficult +situation. As they passed down the broad steps into the brilliant +October sunshine, she noticed with relief that his shoes were not +muddy. Then, before she could make other observations, her mind was +entirely preoccupied with a large, firm hand that grasped her elbow, and +seemed to half lift her slight weight from step to step. Miss Mink's +elbow was not used to such treatment and it indignantly freed itself +before the pavement was reached. The first square was traveled in +embarrassed silence, then Miss Mink made a heroic effort to break the +ice: + +"My name is Mink," she said, "Miss Libby Mink. I do dress-making over on +Sixth Street." + +"I am Bowinski," volunteered her tall companion, "first name Alexis. I +am a machinist before I enlist in the army." + +"I knew you were some sort of a Dago," said Miss Mink. + +"But no, Madame, I am Russian. My home is in Kiev in Ukrania." + +"Why on earth didn't you stay there?" Miss Mink asked from the depths of +her heart. + +The soldier looked at her earnestly. "Because of the persecution," he +said. "My father he was in exile. His family was suspect. I come alone +to America when I am but fifteen." + +"Well I guess you're sorry enough now that you came," Miss Mink said, +"Now that you've got drafted." + +They had reached her gate by this time, but Bowinski paused before +entering: "Madame mistakes!" he said with dignity. "I was _not_ drafted. +The day America enter the war, that day I give up my job I have held for +five years, and enlist. America is my country, she take me in when I +have nowhere to go. It is my proud moment when I fight for her!" + +Then it was that Miss Mink took her first real look at him, and if it +was a longer look than she had ever before bestowed upon man, we must +put it down to the fact that he was well worth looking at, with his tall +square figure, and his serious dark face lit up at the present with a +somewhat indignant enthusiasm. + +Miss Mink pushed open the gate and led the way into her narrow yard. She +usually entered the house by way of the side door which opened into the +dining room, which was also her bedroom by night, and her sewing room by +day. But this morning, after a moment's hesitation, she turned a key in +the rusty lock of the front door, and let a flood of sunshine dispel the +gloom of the room. The parlor had been furnished by Miss Mink's parents +some sixty years ago, and nothing had been changed. A customer had once +suggested that if the sofa was taken away from the window, and the table +put in its place, the room would be lighter. Miss Mink had regarded the +proposition as preposterous. One might as well have asked her to move +her nose around to the back of her head, or to exchange the positions of +her eyes and ears! + +You have seen a drop of water caught in a crystal? Well, that was what +Miss Mink was like. She moved in the tiniest possible groove with her +home at one end and her church at the other. Is it any wonder that when +she beheld a strange young foreigner sitting stiffly on her parlor sofa, +and realized that she must entertain him for at least an hour, that +panic seized her? + +"I better be seeing to dinner," she said hastily. "You can look at the +album till I get things dished up." + +Private Bowinski, surnamed Alexis, sat with knees awkwardly hunched and +obediently turned the leaves of the large album, politely scanning the +placid countenances of departed Minks for several generations. + +Miss Mink, moving about in the inner room, glanced in at him from time +to time. After the first glance she went to the small store room and got +out a jar of sweet pickle, and after the second she produced a glass of +crab apple jelly. Serving a soldier guest who had voluntarily adopted +her country, was after all not so distasteful, if only she did not have +to talk to him. But already the coming ordeal was casting its baleful +shadow. + +When they were seated opposite one another at the small table, her worst +fears were realized. They could neither of them think of anything to +say. If she made a move to pass the bread to him he insisted upon +passing it to her. When she rose to serve him, he rose to serve her. She +had never realized before how oppressive excessive politeness could be. + +The one point of consolation for her lay in the fact that he was +enjoying his dinner. He ate with a relish that would have flattered any +hostess. Sometimes when he put his knife in his mouth she winced with +apprehension, but aside from a few such lapses in etiquette he conducted +himself with solemn and punctilious propriety. + +When he had finished his second slice of pie, and pushed back his chair, +Miss Mink waited hopefully for him to say good-bye. He was evidently +getting out his car fare now, searching with thumb and forefinger in his +vest pocket. + +"If it is not to trouble you more, may I ask a match?" he said. + +"A match? What on earth do you want with a match?" demanded Miss Mink. +Then a look of apprehension swept over her face. Was this young man +actually proposing to profane the virgin air of her domicile with the +fumes of tobacco? + +"Perhaps you do not like that I should smoke?" Bowinski said instantly. +"I beg you excuse, I--" + +"Oh! that's all right," said Miss Mink in a tone that she did not +recognize as her own, "the matches are in that little bisque figure on +the parlor mantel. I'll get you to leave the front door open, if you +don't mind. It's kinder hot in here." + +Five o'clock that afternoon found Miss Mink and Alexis Bowinski still +sitting facing each other in the front parlor. They were mutually +exhausted, and conversation after having suffered innumerable relapses, +seemed about to succumb. + +"If there's any place else you want to go, you mustn't feel that you've +got to stay here," Miss Mink had urged some time after dinner. But +Alexis had answered: + +"I know only two place. The Camp and the railway depot. I go on last +Sunday to the railway depot. The Chaplain at the Camp advise me I go to +church this morning. Perhaps I make a friend." + +"But what do the other soldiers do on Sunday?" Miss Mink asked +desperately. + +"They promenade. Always promenade. Except they go to photo-plays, and +dance hall. It is the hard part of war, the waiting part." + +Miss Mink agreed with him perfectly as she helped him wait. She had +never spent such a long day in her life. At a quarter past five he rose +to go. A skillful word on her part would have expedited matters, but +Miss Mink was not versed in the social trick of speeding a departing +guest. Fifteen minutes dragged their weary length even after he was on +his feet. Then Miss Mink received a shock from which it took her an even +longer time to recover. Alexis Bowinski, having at last arrived at the +moment of departure, took her hand in his and, bowing awkwardly, raised +it to his lips and kissed it! Then he backed out of the cottage, stalked +into the twilight and was soon lost to sight beyond the hedge. + +Miss Mink sank limply on the sofa by the window, and regarded her small +wrinkled hand with stern surprise. It was a hand that had never been +kissed before and it was tingling in the strangest and most +unaccountable manner. + +The following week was lived in the afterglow of that eventful Sunday. +She described the soldier's visit in detail to the few customers who +came in. She went early to prayer-meeting in order to tell about it. And +in the telling she subordinated everything to the dramatic climax: + +"I never was so took back in my life!" she said. "After setting there +for four mortal hours with nothing to say, just boring each other to +death, for him to get up like that and make a regular play-actor bow, +and kiss my hand! Well, I never _was_ so took back!" + +And judging from the number of times Miss Mink told the story, and the +conscious smile with which she concluded it, it was evident that she was +not averse to being "took back." + +By the time Sunday arrived she had worked herself up to quite a state of +excitement. Would Bowinski he at church? Would he sit on her side of the +congregation? Would he wait after the service to speak to her? She put +on her best bonnet, which was usually reserved for funerals, and pinned +a bit of thread lace over the shabby collar of her coat. + +The moment she entered church all doubts were dispelled. There in her +pew, quite as if he belonged there, sat the tall young Russian. He even +stepped into the aisle for her to pass in, helped her off with her coat, +and found the place for her in the hymn-book. Miss Mink realized with a +glow of satisfaction, that many curious heads were craning in her +direction. For the first time since she had gone forward forty years ago +to confess her faith, she was an object of interest to the congregation! + +When the benediction was pronounced several women came forward +ostensibly to speak to her, but in reality to ask Bowinski to go home to +dinner with them. She waived them all aside. + +"No, he's going with me!" she announced firmly, and Bowinski obediently +picked up his hat and accompanied her. + +For the following month this scene was enacted each Sunday, with little +change to outward appearances but with great change to Miss Mink +herself. In the mothering of Bowinski she had found the great adventure +of her life. She mended his clothes, and made fancy dishes for him, she +knit him everything that could be knitted, including an aviator's helmet +for which he had no possible use. She talked about "my soldier" to any +one who would listen. + +Bowinski accepted her attention with grave politeness. He wore the +things she made for him, he ate the things she cooked for him, he +answered all her questions and kissed her hand at parting. Miss Mink +considered his behavior perfect. + +One snowy Sunday in late November Miss Mink was thrown into a panic by +his failure to appear on Sunday morning. She confided to Sister Bacon in +the adjoining pew that she was afraid he had been sent to France. Sister +Bacon promptly whispered to her husband that he _had_ been sent to +France, and the rumor spread until after church quite a little group +gathered around Miss Mink to hear about it. + +"What was his company?" some one asked. + +"Company C, 47th Infantry," Miss Mink repeated importantly. + +"Why, that's my boy's company," said Mrs. Bacon. "_They_ haven't gone to +France." + +The thought of her soldier being in the trenches even, was more +tolerable to Miss Mink than the thought of his being in town and failing +to come to her for Sunday dinner. + +"I bet he's sick," she announced. "I wish I could find out." + +Mrs. Bacon volunteered to ask her Jim about him, and three days later +stopped by Miss Mink's cottage to tell her that Bowinski had broken his +leg over a week before and was in the Base Hospital. + +"Can anybody go out there that wants to?" demanded Miss Mink. + +"Yes, on Sundays and Wednesdays. But you can't count on the cars running +to-day. Jim says everything's snowed under two feet deep." + +Miss Mink held her own counsel but she knew what she was going to do. +Her soldier was in trouble, he had no family or friends. She was going +to him. + +With trembling fingers she packed a small basket with some apples, a jar +of jelly and a slice of cake. There was no time for her own lunch, so +she hurriedly put on her coat and twisting a faded scarf about her neck +trudged out into the blustery afternoon. + +The blizzard of the day before had almost suspended traffic, and when +she finally succeeded in getting a car, it was only to find that it ran +no farther than the city limits. + +"How much farther is it to the Camp?" Miss Mink asked desperately. + +"About a mile," said the conductor. "I wouldn't try it if I was you, the +walking's fierce." + +But Miss Mink was not to be turned back. Gathering her skirts as high as +her sense of propriety would permit, and grasping her basket she set +bravely forth. The trip alone to the Camp, under the most auspicious +circumstances, would have been a trying ordeal for her, but under the +existing conditions it required nothing less than heroism. The snow had +drifted in places as high as her knees, and again and again she stumbled +and almost lost her footing as she staggered forward against the force +of the icy wind. + +Before she had gone half a mile she was ready to collapse with +nervousness and exhaustion. + +"Looks like I just can't make it," she whimpered, "and yet I'm going +to!" + +The honk of an automobile sent her shying into a snowdrift, and when she +caught her breath and turned around she saw that the machine had stopped +and a hand was beckoning to her from the window. + +"May I give you a lift?" asked a girl's high sweet voice and, looking +up, she saw a sparkling face smiling down at her over an upturned fur +collar. + +Without waiting to be urged she climbed into the machine, stumbled over +the rug, and sank exhausted on the cushions. + +"Give me your basket," commanded the young lady. "Now put your feet on +the heater. Sure you have room?" + +Miss Mink, still breathless, nodded emphatically. + +"It's a shame to ask anyone to ride when I'm so cluttered up," continued +the girl gaily. "I'm taking these things out to my sick soldier boys." + +Miss Mink, looking down, saw that the floor of the machine was covered +with boxes and baskets. + +"I'm going to the Hospital, too," she said. + +"That's good!" exclaimed the girl. "I can take you all the way. Perhaps +you have a son or a grandson out there?" + +Miss Mink winced. "No, he ain't any kin to me," she said, "but I been +sort of looking after him." + +"How sweet of you!" said the pouting red lips with embarrassing ardor. +"Just think of your walking out here this awful day at your age. Quite +sure you are getting warm?" + +Yes, Miss Mink was warm, but she felt suddenly old, old and shrivelled +beside this radiant young thing. + +"I perfectly adore going to the hospital," said the girl, her blue eyes +dancing. "Father's one of the medical directors, Major Chalmers, I +expect you've heard of him. I'm Lois Chalmers." + +But Miss Mink was scarcely listening. She was comparing the big luscious +looking oranges in the crate, with the hard little apples in her own +basket. + +"Here we are!" cried Lois, as the car plowed through the snow and mud +and stopped in front of a long shed-like building. Two orderlies sprang +forward with smiling alacrity and began unloading the boxes. + +"Aren't you the nicest ever?" cried Lois with a skillful smile that +embraced them both. "Those to the medical, those to the surgical, and +these to my little fat-faced Mumpsies." + +Miss Mink got herself and her basket out unassisted, then stood in doubt +as to what she should do next. She wanted to thank Miss Chalmers for her +courtesy, but two dapper young officers had joined the group around her +making a circle of masculine admirers. + +Miss Mink slipped away unnoticed and presented herself at the door +marked "Administration Building." + +"Can you tell me where the broken-legged soldiers are?" she asked +timidly of a man at a desk. + +"Who do you want to see?" + +"Alexis Bowinski. He come from Russia. He's got curly hair and big sort +of sad eyes, and--" + +"Bowinski," the man repeated, running his finger down a ledger, "A. +Bowinski, Surgical Ward 5-C. Through that door, two corridors to the +right midway down the second corridor." + +Miss Mink started boldly forth to follow directions, but it was not +until she had been ejected from the X-ray Room, the Mess Hall, and the +Officers' Quarters, that she succeeded in reaching her destination. By +that time her courage was at its lowest ebb. On either side of the long +wards were cots, on which lay men in various stages of undress. Now Miss +Mink had seen pajamas in shop windows, she had even made a pair once of +silk for an ambitious groom, but this was the first time she had ever +seen them, as it were, occupied. + +So acute was her embarrassment that she might have turned back at the +last moment, had her eyes not fallen on the cot nearest the door. There, +lying asleep, with his injured leg suspended from a pulley from which +depended two heavy weights, lay Bowinski. + +Miss Mink slipped into the chair between his cot and the wall. After the +first glance at his pale unshaven face and the pain-lined brow, she +forgot all about herself. She felt only overwhelming pity for him, and +indignation at the treatment to which he was being subjected. + +By and by he stirred and opened his eyes. + +"Oh you came!" he said, "I mean you not to know I be in hospital. You +must have the kindness not to trouble about me." + +"Trouble nothing," said Miss Mink, husky with emotion, "I never knew a +thing about it until to-day. What have they got you harnessed up like +this for?" + +Then Alexis with difficulty found the English words to tell her how his +leg had not set straight, had been re-broken and was now being forced +into proper position. + +"It is like hell, Madame," he concluded with a trembling lip, then he +drew a sharp breath, "But no, I forget, I am in the army. I beg you +excuse my complain." + +Miss Mink laid herself out to entertain him. She unpacked her basket, +and spread her meagre offerings before him. She described in detail all +the surgical operations she had ever had any experience with, following +some to their direst consequences. Alexis listened apathetically. Now +and then a spasm of pain contracted his face, but he uttered no word of +complaint. + +Only once during the afternoon did his eyes brighten. Miss Mink caught +the sudden change in his expression and, following his glance, saw Lois +Chalmers coming through the ward. She had thrown aside her heavy fur +coat, and her slim graceful little figure as alert as a bird's darted +from cart to cot as she tossed packages of cigarettes to right and left. + +"Here you are, Mr. Whiskers!" she was calling out gaily to one. "This is +for you, Colonel Collar Bone. Where's Cadet Limpy? Discharged? Good for +him! Hello, Mr. Strong Man!" For a moment she poised at the foot of +Bowinski's cot, then recognizing Miss Mink she nodded: + +"So you found your soldier? I'm going back to town in ten minutes, I'll +take you along if you like." + +She flitted out of the ward as quickly as she had come, leaving two long +rows of smiling faces in her wake. She had brought no pity, nor +tenderness, nor understanding, but she had brought her fresh young +beauty, and her little gift of gayety, and made men forget, at least for +a moment, their pain-racked bodies and their weary brains. + +Miss Mink reached her cottage that night weary and depressed. She had +had nothing to eat since breakfast, and yet was too tired to prepare +supper. She made her a cup of tea which she drank standing, and then +crept into bed only to lie staring into the darkness tortured by the +thought of those heavy weights on Bowinski's injured leg. + +The result of her weariness and exposure was a sharp attack of +tonsilitis that kept her in bed several weeks. The first time she was +able to be up, she began to count the hours until the next visiting day +at the Camp. Her basket was packed the evening before, and placed beside +the box of carnations in which she had extravagantly indulged. It is +doubtful whether Miss Mink was ever so happy in her life as during that +hour of pleased expectancy. + +As she moved feebly about putting the house in order, so that she could +make an early start in the morning, she discovered a letter that the +Postman had thrust under the side door earlier in the day. Across the +left hand corner was pictured an American flag, and across the right was +a red triangle in a circle. She hastily tore off the envelop and read: + + Dear Miss Mink: + + I am out the Hospital, getting along fine. Hope you are in the same + circumstances. I am sending you a book which I got from a Dear Young + Lady, in the Hospital. I really do not know what to call her because + I do not know her name, but I know she deserve a nice, nice name for + all good She dose to all soldiers. I think she deserve more + especially from me than to call her a Sweet Dear Lady, because that + I have the discouragement, and she make me to laugh and take heart. + I would ask your kind favor to please pass the book back to the + Young Lady, and pleas pass my thankful word to her, and if you might + be able to send me her name before that I go to France, which I + learn is very soon. Excuse all errors if you pleas will. This is + goodby from + + Your soldier friend, + A. BOWINSKI. + +Miss Mink read the letter through, then she sat down limply in a kitchen +chair and stared at the stove. Twice she half rose to get the pen and +ink on the shelf above the coal box, but each time she changed her mind, +folded her arms indignantly, and went back to her stern contemplation of +the stove. Presently a tear rolled down her cheek, then another, and +another until she dropped her tired old face in her tired old hands, and +gave a long silent sob that shook her slight body from head to foot. +Then she rose resolutely and sweeping the back of her hand across her +eyes, took down her writing materials. On one side of a post card she +wrote the address of Alexis Bowinski, and on the other she penned in +her cramped neat writing, one line: + +"Her name is Lois Chalmers. Hotel LeRoy." + +This done she unpacked her basket, put her half dozen carnations in a +tumbler of water and carried them into the dark parlor, pulled her chair +up to the kitchen table, drew the lamp closer and patiently went back to +her buttonholes. + + + + +A DARLING OF MISFORTUNE + + +A shabby but joyous citizen of the world at large was Mr. Phelan +Harrihan, as, with a soul wholly in tune with the finite, he half sat +and half reclined on a baggage-truck at Lebanon Junction. He wag +relieving the tedium of his waiting moments by entertaining a critical +if not fastidious audience of three. + +Beside him, with head thrust under his ragged sleeve, sat a small and +unlovely bull-terrier, who, at each fresh burst of laughter, lifted a +pair of languishing eyes to the face of his master, and then manifested +his surplus affection by ardently licking the buttons on the sleeve of +the arm that encircled him. + +It was a moot question whether Mr. Harrihan resembled his dog, or +whether his dog resembled him. That there was a marked similarity +admitted of no discussion. If Corp's nose had been encouraged and his +lower jaw suppressed, if his intensely emotional nature had been under +better control, and his sentimentality tempered with humor, the analogy +would have been more complete. In taste, they were one. By birth, +predilection, and instinct both were philosophers of the open, +preferring an untrammeled life in Vagabondia to the collars and +conventions of society. Both delighted in exquisite leisure, and spent +it in pleased acquiescence with things as they are. + +Some twenty-five years before, Phelan had opened his eyes upon a +half-circle of blue sky, seen through the end of a canvas-covered wagon +on a Western prairie, and having first conceived life to be a +free-and-easy affair on a long, open road, he thereafter declined to +consider it in any other light. + +The only break in his nomadic existence was when a benevolent old +gentleman found him, a friendless lad in a Nashville hospital, cursed +him through a fever, and elected to educate him. Those were years of +black captivity for Phelan, and after being crammed and coached for what +seemed an interminable time, he was proudly entered at the University, +where he promptly failed in every subject and was dropped at the +mid-year term. + +The old gentleman, fortunately, was spared all disappointment in regard +to his irresponsible protégé, for he died before the catastrophe, +leaving Phelan Harrihan a legacy of fifteen dollars a month and the +memory of a kind, but misguided, old man who was not quite right in his +head. + +Being thus provided with a sum more than adequate to meet all his +earthly needs, Phelan joyously abandoned the straight and narrow path of +learning, and once more betook himself to the open road. + +The call of blue skies and green fields, the excitement of each day's +encounter, the dramatic possibilities of every passing incident, the +opportunity for quick and intimate fellowship, and above all an +inherited and chronic disinclination for work, made Phelan an easy +victim to that malady called by the casual tourist "wanderlust," but +known in Hoboland as "railroad fever." + +Only once a year did he return to civilization, don a stiff collar, and +recognize an institution. During his meteoric career at the University +he had been made a member of the Alpha Delta fraternity, in recognition +of his varied accomplishments. Not only could he sing and dance and tell +a tale with the best, but he was also a mimic and a ventriloquist, gifts +which had proven invaluable in crucial conflicts with the faculty, and +had constituted him a hero in several escapades. Of such material is +college history made, and the Alpha Delta, recognizing the distinction +of possessing this unique member, refused to accept his resignation, but +unanimously demanded his presence at each annual reunion. + +On June second, for five consecutive years, the ends of the earth had +yielded up Phelan Harrihan; by a miracle of grace he had arrived in +Nashville, decently appareled, ready to respond to his toast, to bask +for his brief hour in the full glare of the calcium, then to depart +again into oblivion. + +It was now the first day of June and as Phelan concluded his tale, +which was in fact an undress rehearsal of what he intended to tell on +the morrow, he looked forward with modest satisfaction to the triumph +that was sure to be his. For the hundredth time he made certain that the +small brown purse, so unused to its present obesity, was safe and sound +in his inside pocket. + +During the pause that followed his recital, his audience grew restive. + +"Go on, do it again," urged the ragged boy who sold the sandwiches, +"show us how Forty Fathom Dan looked when he thought he was sinking. + +"I don't dare trifle with me features," said Phelan solemnly. "How much +are those sandwiches. One for five, is it? Two for fifteen, I suppose. +Well, here's one for me, and one for Corp, and keep the change, kid. +Ain't that the train coming?" + +"It's the up train," said the station-master, rising reluctantly; "it +meets yours here. I've got to be hustling." + +Phelan, left without an audience, strolled up and down the platform, +closely followed by Corporal Harrihan. + +As the train slowed up at the little Junction, there was manifestly some +commotion on board. Standing in the doorway of the rear car a small, +white-faced woman argued excitedly with the conductor. + +"I didn't have no ticket, I tell you!" she was saying as the train came +to a stop. "I 'lowed I'd pay my way, but I lost my pocket-book. I lost +it somewheres on the train here, I don't know where it is!" + +"I've seen your kind before," said the conductor wearily; "what did you +get on for when you didn't have anything to pay your fare with?" + +"I tell you I lost my pocket-book after I got on!" she said doggedly; "I +ain't going to get off, you daren't put me off!" + +Phelan, who had sauntered up, grew sympathetic. He, too, had experienced +the annoyance of being pressed for his fare when it was inconvenient to +produce it. + +"Go ahead," demanded the conductor firmly, "I don't want to push you +off, but if you don't step down and out right away, I'll have it to do." + +The woman's expression changed from defiance to terror. She clung to the +brake with both hands and looked at him fearfully. + +"No, no, don't touch me!" she cried. "Don't make me get off! I've got to +get to Cincinnati. My man's there. He's been hurt in the foundry. +He's--maybe he's dying now." + +"I can't help that, maybe it's so and maybe it ain't. You never had any +money when you got on this train and you know it. Go on, step off!" + +"But I did!" she cried wildly; "I did. Oh, God! don't put me off." + +The train began to move, and the conductor seized the woman's arms from +behind and forced her forward. A moment more and she would be pushed off +the lowest step. She turned beseeching eyes on the little group of +spectators, and as she did so Phelan Harrihan sprang forward and with +his hand on the railing, ran along with the slow-moving train. + +With a deft movement he bent forward and apparently snatched something +from the folds of her skirt. + +"Get on to your luck now," he said with an encouraging smile that played +havoc with the position of his features; "if here ain't your pocket-book +all the time!" + +The hysterical woman looked from the unfamiliar little brown purse in +her hand, to the snub-nosed, grimy face of the young man running along +the track, then she caught her breath. + +"Why,--" she cried unsteadily, "yes--yes, it's my purse." + +Phelan loosened his hold on the railing and had only time to scramble +breathlessly up the bank before the down train, the train for Nashville +which was to have been his, whizzed past. + +He watched it regretfully as it slowed up at the station, then almost +immediately pulled out again for the south, carrying his hopes with it. + +"Corporal," said Phelan, to the dog, who had looked upon the whole +episode as a physical-culture exercise indulged in for his special +benefit, "a noble act of charity is never to be regretted, but wasn't I +the original gun, not to wait for the change?" + +His lack of business method seemed to weigh upon him, and he continued +to apologize to Corporal: + +"It was so sudden, you know, Corp. Couldn't see a lady ditched, when I +had a bit of stuffed leather in my pocket. And two hundred miles to +Nashville! Well I'll--be--jammed!" + +He searched in his trousers pockets and found a dime in one and a hole +in the other. It was an old trick of his to hide a piece of money in +time of prosperity, and then discover it in the blackness of adversity. + +He held the dime out ruefully: "That's punk and plaster for supper, but +we'll have to depend on a hand-out for breakfast. And, Corp," he added +apologetically, "you know I told you we was going to ride regular like +gentlemen? Well, I've been compelled to change my plans. We are going to +turf it twelve miles down to the watering tank, and sit out a couple of +dances till the midnight freight comes along. If a side door Pullman +ain't convenient, I'll have to go on the bumpers, then what'll become of +you, Mr. Corporal Harrihan?" + +The coming ordeal cast no shadow over Corporal. He was declaring his +passionate devotion, by wild tense springs at Phelan's face, seeking in +vain to overcome the cruel limitation of a physiognomy that made kissing +well-nigh impossible. + +Phelan picked up his small bundle and started down the track with the +easy, regular swing of one who has long since gaged the distance of +railroad ties. But his step lacked its usual buoyancy, and he forgot to +whistle, Mr. Harrihan was undergoing the novel experience of being +worried. Of course he would get to Nashville,--if the train went, _he_ +could go,--but the prospect of arriving without decent clothes and with +no money to pay for a lodging, did not in the least appeal to him. He +thought with regret of his well-laid plans: an early arrival, a Turkish +bath, the purchase of a new outfit, instalment at a good hotel, +then--presentation at the fraternity headquarters of Mr. Phelan +Harrihan, Gentleman for a Night. He could picture it all, the dramatic +effect of his entrance, the yell of welcome, the buzz of questions, and +the evasive, curiosity-enkindling answers which he meant to give. Then +the banquet, with its innumerable courses of well-served food, the +speeches and toasts, and the personal ovation that always followed Mr. +Harrihan's unique contribution. + +Oh! he couldn't miss it! Providence would interfere in his behalf, he +knew it would, it always did. "Give me my luck, and keep your lucre!" +was a saying of Phelan's, quoted by brother hoboes from Maine to the +Gulf. + +All the long afternoon he tramped the ties, with Corporal at his heels. +As dusk came on the clouds that had been doing picket duty, joined the +regiment on the horizon which slowly wheeled and charged across the sky. +Phelan scanned the heavens with an experienced weather eye, then began +to look for a possible shelter from the coming shower. On either side, +the fields stretched away in undulating lines, with no sign of a +habitation in sight. A dejected old scarecrow, and a tumble-down shed in +the distance were the only objects that presented themselves. + +Turning up his coat-collar Phelan made a dash for the shed, but the +shower overtook him half-way. It was not one of your gentle little +summer showers, that patter on the shingles waking echoes underneath; it +was a large and instantaneous breakage in the celestial plumbing that +let gallons of water down Phelan's back, filling his pockets, hat brim, +and shoes and sending a dashing cascade down Corporal's oblique profile. + +"Float on your back, Corp, and pull for the shore!" laughed Phelan as he +landed with a spring under the dilapidated shed. "Cheer up, old pard; +you look as if all your past misdeeds had come before you in your +drowning hour." + +Corporal, shivering and unhappy, crept under cover, and dumbly demanded +of Phelan what he intended to do about it. + +"Light a blaze, sure," said Phelan, "and linger here in the air of the +tropics till the midnight freight comes along." + +Scraping together the old wood and débris in the rear of the shed, and +extricating with some difficulty a small tin match-box from his +saturated clothes, he knelt before the pile and used all of his +persuasive powers to induce it to ignite. + +At the first feeble blaze Corporal's spirits rose so promptly that he +had to be restrained. + +"Easy there! Corp," cautioned Phelan. "A fire's like a woman, you can't +be sure of it too soon. And, dog alive, stop wagging your tail, don't +you see it makes a draft?" + +The fire capriciously would, then it wouldn't. A tiny flame played +tantalizingly along the top of a stick only to go sullenly out when it +reached the end. Match after match was sacrificed to the cause, but at +last, down deep under the surface, there was a steady, reassuring, +cheerful crackle that made Phelan sit back on his heels, and remark +complacently: + +"They most generally come around, in the end!" + +In five minutes the fire was burning bright, Corporal was dreaming of +meaty bones in far fence corners, and Phelan, less free from the +incumbrances of civilization, was divesting himself of his rain-soaked +garments. + +From one of the innumerable pockets of his old cutaway coat he took a +comb and brush and clothes-brush, and carefully deposited them before +the fire. Then from around his neck he removed a small leather case, +hung by a string and holding a razor. His treasured toilet articles thus +being cared for, he turned his attention to the contents of his dripping +bundle. A suit of underwear and a battered old copy of Eli Perkins were +ruefully examined, and spread out to dry. + +The fire, while it lasted, was doing admirable service, but the wood +supply was limited, and Phelan saw that he must take immediate advantage +of the heat. How to dry the underwear which he wore was the question +which puzzled him, and he wrestled with it for several moments before an +inspiration came. + +"I'll borrow some duds from the scarecrow!" he said half aloud, and +went forth immediately to execute his idea. + +The rain had ceased, but the fields were still afloat, and Phelan waded +ankle deep through the slush grass, to where the scarecrow raised his +threatening arms against the twilight sky. + +"Beggars and borrowers shouldn't be choosers," said Phelan, as he +divested the figure of its ragged trousers and coat, "but I have a +strong feeling in my mind that these habiliments ain't going to become +me. Who's your tailor, friend?" + +The scarecrow, reduced now to an old straw hat and a necktie, maintained +a dignified and oppressive silence. + +"Well, he ain't on to the latest cut," continued Phelan, wringing the +water out of the coat. "But maybe these here is your pajamas? Don't tell +me I disturbed you after you'd retired for the night? Very well then, +aurevoy." + +With the clothes under his arm he made his way back to the shed, and +divesting himself of his own raiment he got into his borrowed property. + +By this time the fire had died down, and the place was in +semi-darkness. Phelan threw on a handful of sticks and, as the blaze +flared up, he caught his first clear sight of his newly acquired +clothes. They were ragged and weather-stained, and circled about with +broad, unmistakable stripes. + +"Well, I'll be spiked!" said Phelan, vastly amused. "I wouldn't 'a' +thought it of a nice, friendly scarecrow like that! Buncoed me, didn't +he? Well, feathers don't always make the jail-bird. Wonder what poor +devil wore 'em last? Peeled out of 'em in this very shed, like as not. +Well, they'll serve my purpose all right, all right." + +He took off his shoes, placed them under his head for a pillow, lit a +short cob pipe, threw on fresh wood, and prepared to wait for his +clothes to dry. + +Meanwhile the question of the banquet revolved itself continually in his +mind. This time to-morrow night, the preparations would be in full +swing. Instead of being hungry, half naked, and chilled, he might be in +a luxurious club-house dallying with caviar, stuffed olives, and +Benedictine. All that lay between him and bliss were two hundred miles +of railroad ties and a decent suit of clothes! + +"Wake up, Corp; for the love of Mike be sociable!" cried Phelan when the +situation became too gloomy to contemplate. "Ain't that like a dog now? +Hold your tongue when I'm longing for a word of kindly sympathy an' +encouragement, and barking your fool head off once we get on the +freight. Much good it'll be doing us to get to Nashville in this fix, +but we'll take our blessings as they come, Corp, and just trust to luck +that somebody will forget to turn 'em off. I know when I get to the +banquet there'll be one other man absent. That's Bell of Terre Haute. +Him and me is always in the same boat, he gets ten thousand a year and +ain't got the nerve to spend it, and I get fifteen a month, and ain't +got the nerve to keep it! Poor old Bell." + +Corporal, roused from his slumbers, sniffed inquiringly at the many +garments spread about the fire, yawned, turned around several times in +dog fashion, then curled up beside Phelan, signifying by his bored +expression that he hadn't the slightest interest in the matter under +discussion. + +Gradually the darkness closed in, and the fire died to embers. It would +be four hours before the night freight slowed up at the water tank, and +Phelan, tired from his long tramp, and drowsy from the heat and the +vapor rising from the drying clothes, shifted the shoe-buttons from +under his left ear, and drifted into dreamland. + +How long he slept undisturbed, only the scarecrow outside knew. He was +dimly aware, in his dreams, of subdued sounds and, by and by, the sounds +formed themselves into whispered words and, still half asleep, he +listened. + +"I thought we'd find him along here. This is the road they always take," +a low voice was saying; "you and Sam stand here, John and me'll tackle +him from this side. He'll put up a stiff fight, you bet." + +Phelan opened his eyes, and tried to remember where he was. + +"Gosh! look at that bulldog!" came another whisper, and at the same +moment Corporal jumped to his feet, growling angrily. + +As he did so, four men sprang through the opening of the shed, and +seized Phelan by the arms and legs. + +"Look out there," cried one excitedly; "don't let him escape; here's the +handcuffs." + +"But here," cried Phelan, "what's up; what you doing to me?" + +By this time Corporal, thoroughly roused, made a vicious lunge at the +nearest man. The next minute there was a sharp report of a pistol, and +the bull-terrier went yelping and limping out into the night. + +"You coward!" cried Phelan, struggling to rise, "if you killed that +dog--" + +"Get those shackles on his legs," shouted one of the men. "Is the wagon +ready, Sam? Take his legs there, I've got his head. Leave the truck +here, we've got to drive like sand to catch that train!" + +After being dragged to the road and thrown into a spring wagon, Phelan +found himself lying on his back, jolting over a rough country road, his +three vigilant captors sitting beside him with pistols in hand. + +Any effort on his part to explain or seek information was promptly and +emphatically discouraged. But in time he gathered, from the bits let +fall by his captors, that he was an escaped convict, of a most desperate +character, for whom a reward was offered, and that he had been at large +twenty-four hours. + +In vain did he struggle for a hearing. Only once did he get a response +to his oft-repeated plea of innocence. It was when he told how he had +come by the clothes he had on. For once Phelan got a laugh when he did +not relish it. + +"Got 'em off a scarecrow, did you?" said the man at his head, when the +fun had subsided; "say, I want to be 'round when you tell that to the +Superintendent of the Penitentiary--I ain't heard him laugh in ten +years!" + +So, in the face of such unbelief, Phelan lapsed into silence and gloom. +What became of him concerned him less, at the moment, than the fate of +Corporal, and the thought of the faithful little beast wounded and +perhaps dying out there in the fields, made him sick at heart. + +Just as they came in sight of the lights of the station, the whistle of +the freight was heard down the track and the horses were beaten to a +gallop. + +Phelan was hurried from the wagon into an empty box car, with his full +guard in attendance. As the train pulled out he heard a little whimper +beside him and there, panting for breath after his long run, and with +one ear hanging limp and bloody, cowered Corporal. Phelan's hands were +not at his disposal, but even if they had been it is doubtful if he +would have denied Corp the joy for once of kissing him. + +Through the rest of the night the heavy cars rumbled over the rails, and +the men took turn about sleeping and guarding the prisoner. Only once +did Phelan venture another question: + +"Say, you sports, you don't mind telling me where you are taking me, do +you?" + +"Listen at his gaff!" said one. "He'll know all right when he gets to +Nashville." + +Phelan sent such a radiant smile into the darkness that it threatened +to reveal itself. Then he slipped his encircled wrists about Corporal's +body and giving him a squeeze whispered: + +"It's better'n the bumpers, Corp." + +At the Penitentiary next day there was consternation and dismay when +instead of the desperate criminal, who two days before had scaled the +walls and dropped to freedom, an innocent little Irishman was presented, +whose only offense apparently was in having donned, temporarily, the +garb of crime. + +As the investigation proceeded, Phelan found it expedient, to become +excessively indignant. That an American citizen, strolling harmlessly +through the fields of a summer evening, and being caught in a shower, +should attempt to dry his clothes in an unused shed, and find himself +attacked and bound, and hurried away without his belongings to a distant +city, was an inconceivable outrage. If a shadow of doubt remained as to +his identity, a score of prominent gentlemen in the city would be able +to identify him. He named them, and added that he was totally unable to +hazard a guess as to what form their resentment of his treatment would +assume. + +The authorities looked grave. Could Mr. Harrihan remember just what +articles he had left behind? Mr. Harrihan could. A suit of clothes, a +pair of shoes, a hat, a toilet set, and a small sum of money; "the loss +of which," added Phelan with a fine air of indifference, "are as nothing +compared to the indignity offered to my person." + +Would the gentleman be satisfied if the cost of these articles, together +with the railroad fare back to Lebanon Junction be paid him? The +gentleman, after an injured pause, announced that he would. + +And thus it was that Mr. Phelan Harrihan, in immaculate raiment, +presented himself at the Sixth Annual Reunion of the Alpha Delta +fraternity and, with a complacent smile encircling a ten-cent cigar, won +fresh laurels by recounting, with many adornments, the adventures of the +previous night. + + + + +"POP" + + +The gloomy corridor in the big Baltimore hospital was still and deserted +save for a nurse who sat at a flat-topped desk under a green lamp +mechanically transferring figures from one chart to another. It was the +period of quiet that usually precedes the first restless stirring of the +sick at the breaking of dawn. The silence was intense as only a silence +can be that waits momentarily for an interrupting sound. + +Suddenly it came in a prolonged, imperative ring of the telephone bell. +So insistent was the call that the nurse's hand closed over the +transmitter long before the burr ceased. The office was notifying Ward B +that an emergency case had been brought in and an immediate operation +was necessary. + +With prompt efficiency the well-ordered machinery for saving human life +was put in motion. Soft-footed nurses emerged from the shadows and +moved quickly about, making necessary arrangements. A trim, comely +woman, straight of feature and clear of eye, gave directions in low +decisive tones. When the telephone rang the second time she answered it. + +"Yes, Office," she said, "this is Miss Fletcher. They are not going to +operate? Too late? I see. Very well. Send the patient up to No. 16. +Everything is ready." + +Even as she spoke the complaining creak of the elevator could he heard, +and presently two orderlies appeared at the end of the corridor bearing +a stretcher. + +Beside it, with head erect and jaw set, strode a strangely commanding +figure. Six feet two he loomed in the shadows, a gaunt, raw-boned old +mountaineer. On his head was a tall, wide-brimmed hat and in his right +hand he carried a bulky carpet sack. The left sleeve of his long-tailed +coat hung empty to the elbow. The massive head with its white flowing +beard and hawklike face, the beaked nose and fierce, deep-set eyes, +might have served as a model for Michael Angelo when he modeled his +immortal Moses. + +As the orderlies passed through the door of No. 16 and lowered the +stretcher, the old man put down his carpet sack and grimly watched the +nurse uncover the patient. Under the worn homespun coverlet, stained +with the dull dyes of barks and berries, lay an emaciated figure, just +as it had been brought into the hospital. One long coarse garment +covered it, and the bare feet with their prominent ankle bones and the +large work-hardened hands might have belonged to either a boy or a girl. + +"Take that thar head wrappin' off!" ordered the old man peremptorily. + +A nurse carefully unwound the rough woolen scarf and as she did so a +mass of red hair fell across the pillow, hair that in spite of its +matted disorder showed flashes of gleaming gold. + +"We'll get her on the bed," a night nurse said to an assistant. "Put +your arm under her knees. Don't jar the stretcher!" + +Before the novice could obey another and a stronger arm was thrust +forward. + +"Stand back thar, some of you-uns," commanded a loud voice, "I'll holp +move Sal myself." + +In vain were protests from nurses and orderlies alike, the old +mountaineer seemed bent on making good use of his one arm and with quick +dexterity he helped to lift her on the bed. + +"Now, whar's the doctor?" he demanded, standing with feet far apart and +head thrown back. + +The doctor was at the desk in the corridor, speaking to Miss Fletcher in +an undertone: + +"We only made a superficial examination down-stairs," he was saying, +"but it is evidently a ruptured appendix. If she's living in a couple of +hours I may be able to operate. But it's ten to one she dies on the +table." + +"Who are they, and where did they come from?" Miss Fletcher asked +curiously. + +"Their name is Hawkins, and they are from somewhere in the Kentucky +mountains. Think of his starting with her in that condition! He can't +read or write; it's the first time he has ever been in a city. I am +afraid he's going to prove troublesome. You'd better get him out of +there as soon as possible." + +But anyone, however mighty in authority, who proposed to move Jeb +Hawkins when he did not choose to be moved reckoned unknowingly. All +tactics were exhausted from suggestion to positive command, and the +rules of the hospital were quoted in vain. + +In the remote regions where Jeb lived there were no laws to break. Every +man's home was his stronghold, to be protected at the point of a pistol. +He was one of the three million people of good Anglo-Saxon stock who had +been stranded in the highlands when the Cumberland Mountains dammed the +stream of humanity that swept westward through the level wilderness. +Development had been arrested so long in Jeb and his ancestors that the +outside world, its interests and its mode of living, was a matter of +supreme and profound indifference. A sudden and unprecedented emergency +had driven him to the "Settlements." His girl had developed an ailment +that baffled the skill of the herb doctors; so, following one bit of +advice after another, he had finally landed in Baltimore. And now that +the terrible journey was ended and Sal was in the hands of the doctor +who was to work the cure, the wholly preposterous request was made of +him that he abandon her to her fate! + +With dogged determination he sat beside the bed, and chewed silently and +stolidly through the argument. + +"You gals mought ez well save yer wind," he announced at last. "Ef Sal +stays, I stay. Ef I go, Sal goes. We ain't axin' favors of nobody." + +He was so much in the way during the necessary preparations for the +possible operation that finally Miss Fletcher was appealed to. She was a +woman accustomed to giving orders and to having them obeyed; but she was +also a woman of tact. Ten minutes of valuable time were spent in +propitiating the old man before she suggested that he come with her into +the corridor while the nurses straightened the room. A few minutes later +she returned, smiling: + +"I've corralled him in the linen closet," she whispered; "he is +unpacking his carpet sack as if he meant to take up his abode with us." + +"I am afraid," said the special nurse, glancing toward the bed, "he +won't have long to stay. How do you suppose he ever got her here?" + +"I asked him. He said he drove her for three days in an ox-cart along +the creek bottom until they got to Jackson. Then he told the ticket +agent to send them to the best hospital the train ran to. Neither of +them had ever seen a train before. It's a miracle she's lived this +long." + +"Does he realize her condition?" + +"I don't know. I suppose I ought to tell him that the end may come at +any time." + +But telling him was not an easy matter as Miss Fletcher found when she +joined him later in the linen closet. He was busy spreading his varied +possessions along the shelves on top of the piles of immaculate linen, +stopping now and then to refresh himself with a bite of salt pork and +some corn pone that had been packed for days along with Sally's shoes +and sunbonnet and his own scanty wardrobe. + +"I suppose you know," Miss Fletcher began gently, trying not to show her +chagrin at the state of the room, "that your daughter is in a very +serious condition." + +He looked at her sharply. "Shucks! Sal'll pull through," he said with +mingled defiance and alarm. "You ain't saw her afore in one of them +spells. Besides, hit meks a difference when a gal's paw and grandpaw and +great-grandpaw was feud-followers. A feud-follower teks more killin' +then ordinary folks. Her maw was subjec' to cramp colic afore her." + +"But this isn't cramp colic," Miss Fletcher urged, "it's her appendix, +and it wasn't taken in time." + +"Well, ain't they goin' to draw it?" he asked irritably. "Ain't that +whut we're here fer?" + +"Yes; but you don't understand. The doctor may decide _not_, to +operate." + +The old man's face wore a puzzled look, then his lips hardened: + +"Mebbe hit's the money thet's a-woriyin' him. You go toll him that Jeb +Hawkins pays ez he goes! I got pension money sewed in my coat frum the +hem clean up to the collar. I hain't askin' none of you to cure my gal +fer nothin'!" + +Miss Fletcher laid her hand on his arm. It was a shapely hand as well as +a kindly one. + +"It isn't a question of money," she said quietly, "it's a question of +life or death. There is only a slight chance that your daughter will +live through the day." + +Someone tapped at the door and Miss Fletcher, after a whispered +consultation, turned again to the old man: + +"They have decided to take the chance," she said hurriedly. "They are +carrying her up now. You stay here, and I will let you know as soon as +it is over." + +"Whar they fetching her to?" he demanded savagely. + +"To the operating-room." + +"You take me thar!" + +"But you can't go, Mr. Hawkins. No one but the surgeons and nurses can +be with her. Besides, the nurse who was just here said she had regained +consciousness, and it might excite her to see you." + +She might as well have tried to stop a mountain torrent. He brushed past +her and was making his way to the elevator before she had ceased +speaking. At the open door of the operating-room on the fourth floor he +paused. On a long white table lay the patient, a white-clad doctor on +either side of her, and a nurse in the background sorting a handful of +gleaming instruments. With two strides the old man reached the girl's +side. + +"Sal!" he said fiercely, bending over her, "air ye wuss?" + +Her dazed eyes cleared slightly. + +"I dunno, Pop," she murmured feebly. + +"Ye ain't fixin' to die, air ye?" he persisted. + +"I dunno, Pop." + +"Don't you let 'em skeer you," he commanded sternly. "You keep on +a-fightin'. Don't you dare give up. Sal, do you hear me?" + +The girl's wavering consciousness steadied, and for a moment the +challenge that the old man flung at death was valiantly answered in her +pain-racked eyes. + +For an hour and a half the surgeons worked. The case, critical enough at +best, was greatly complicated by the long delay. Twice further effort +seemed useless, and it was only by the prompt administration of oxygen +that the end was averted. During the nerve-racking suspense Pop not only +refused to leave the room, he even refused to stand back from the table. +With keen, suspicious eyes he followed every movement of the surgeons' +hands. Only once did he speak out, and that was in the beginning, to an +interne who was administering the anćsthetic: + +"Lift that funnel, you squash-headed fool!" he thundered; "don't you see +hit's marking of her cheek?" + +When the work was finished and the unconscious patient had been taken +down to her ward, Pop still kept his place beside her. With his hand on +her pulse he watched her breathing, watched the first faint quivering of +her lids, the restlessness that grew into pain and later into agony. +Hour after hour he sat there and passed with her through that +crucifixion that follows some capital operations. + +On his refusal at luncheon time to leave the bedside Miss Fletcher +ignored the rules and sent him a tray; but when night came and he still +refused to go, she became impatient. + +"You can't stay in here to-night, Mr. Hawkins," she said firmly. "I have +asked one of the orderlies, who lives nearby, to take you home with him. +We can send for you if there is any change. I must insist that you go +now." + +"Ain't I made it cl'ar from the start," cried Pop angrily, "thet I ain't +a-goin' to be druv out? You-uns kin call me muley-headed or whatever +you've a mind to. Sal's always stood by me, and by golly, I'm a-goin' to +stand by Sal!" + +His raised voice roused the patient, and a feeble summons brought Miss +Fletcher to the bedside. + +"Say," plead the girl faintly, "don't rile Pop. He's the--fightenest +man--in--Breathitt--when his blood's--up." + +"All right, dear," said Miss Fletcher, with a soothing hand on the hot +brow; "he shall do as he likes." + +During that long night the girl passed from one paroxysm of pain to +another with brief intervals of drug-induced sleep. During the quiet +moments the nurse snatched what rest she could; but old Jeb Hawkins +stuck to his post in the straight-backed chair, never nodding, never +relaxing the vigilance of his watch. For Pop was doing sentry duty, much +as he had done it in the old days of the Civil War, when he had answered +Lincoln's first call for volunteers and given his left arm for his +country. + +But the enemy to-night was mysterious, crafty, one that might come in +the twinkling of an eye, and a sentry at seventy is not what he was at +twenty-two. When the doctor arrived in the morning he found the old man +haggard with fatigue. + +"This won't do, Mr. Hawkins," he said kindly; "you must get some rest." + +"Be she goin' to die?" Pop demanded, steadying himself by a chair. + +"It is too soon to tell," the doctor said evasively; "but I'll say this +much, her pulse is better than I expected. Now, go get some sleep." + +Half an hour later a strange rumbling sound puzzled the nurses in Ward +B. It came at regular intervals, rising from a monotonous growl to a +staccato, then dying away in a plaintive diminuendo. It was not until +one of the nurses needed clean sheets that the mystery was explained. On +the floor of the linen closet, stretched on his back with his carpet +sack under his head and his empty sleeve across his chest, lay Pop! + +From that time on the old mountaineer became a daily problem to Ward B. +It is true, he agreed in time to go home at night with the orderly; but +by six in the morning he was sitting on the hospital steps, impatiently +awaiting admission. The linen closet was still regarded by him as his +private apartment, to which he repaired at such times as he could not +stay in Sally's room, and refreshed himself with the luncheon he brought +with him each day. + +During the first week, when the girl's life hung in the balance, he was +granted privileges which he afterward refused to relinquish. The +hospital confines, after the freedom of the hills, chafed him sorely. As +the days grew warmer he discarded his coat, collar, and at times his +shoes. + +"I 'low I'm goin' to tek Sal home next week!" became his daily threat. + +But the days and weeks slipped by, and still the girl lay with a low, +consuming fever, and still Pop watched by her side, showing her no +affection by word or gesture but serving her and anticipating her every +want with a thoroughness that left little for the nurses to do. + +In some way Miss Fletcher had gained his confidence. To her he intrusted +the bills which he ripped from his coat at the end of each week with the +instruction that she "pay off them boys down in the office fa'r an' +squar', but not to 'low 'em to cheat her." It may have been her growing +interest in the invalid that won his favor, for she came in often to +chat awhile with Sally and sometimes brought up a handful of flowers to +brighten the sick room. + +"She's getting better," she said one morning as she held the girl's big +bony hand and looked down at the thin bright face in its frame of +shining hair. "We'll have her sitting up now before long." + +Pop's whole aspect brightened. + +"Ef Sal onct begins to git well, can't none of 'em beat her," he said +proudly. + +"Have you any other children?" Miss Fletcher asked. + +"Lord, yes," said Pop, "heaps of 'em. Thar's Ted an' Larkin, an' +Gus,--they wuz all kilt in feud fights. An' Burt an' Jim,--they're in +jail in Jackson fer moonshinin'. Four more died when they wuz babies. +An' they ain't nary a one at home now but jes' Sal." + +"How old is she?" + +"Seventeen or eighteen, mebbe." + +"And she tells me she has never been to school." + +"Thar warn't no needcessity," said Pop complacently, taking a long twist +of tobacco from his pocket. "Sal don't need no larnin'. She's pearter +then most gals thet's got book sense. You show me ary one of these gals +round here thet kin spin an' weave the cloth to mek ther own dresses, +thet kin mold candles, an' mek soap, an' hoe terbaccy, an' handle a +rifle good ez a man." + +"But, Mr. Hawkins," insisted Miss Fletcher, "there are better things +than those for us to learn. Haven't you ever felt the need of an +education yourself?" + +Pop looked at her suspiciously: "Look a-here, young woman. I'm nigh on +to seventy. I never hed a doctor but onct in my life, an' then he +chopped my arm off when it might hev got well whar it wuz. I kin plow, +an' fell trees, an' haul wood. Thar ain't a log-rollin' ner a +house-raisin' in our neck of the woods thet Jeb Hawkins ain't sent fer. +I kin h'ist a barrel with the best of 'em, and shake up Ole Dan Tucker +ez peart ez the next one. Now how about yer scholards? This here +horspittle is full of 'em. Pale-faced, spindly-legged, nerve-jerking +young fellows thet has spent ther fust twenty years gittin' larnin', +an' ther next twenty gittin' over hit. Me an' Sal will keep to the +open!" + +But Sally was not so confident. As her strength began to return she took +a growing interest in all that went on around her, asking eager, +intelligent questions and noting with wistful curiosity the speech and +manners of the nurses who served her. She was a raw recruit from Nature, +unsophisticated, illiterate. Under a bondage of poverty and drudgery she +had led her starved life in the mountain fastnesses; but now she had +opened her eyes on a new and unexpected world. + +"How do you go about gittin' a larnin'?" she ventured at last to ask one +of the friendly nurses. "Can't you fetch me up some of them thar picter +books?" + +For hours after this she pored over her new treasures, until one day +Miss Fletcher brought her a primer, and the seventeen-year-old girl +grappled for the first time with the alphabet. After that she was loath +to have the book out of her hand, going painfully and slowly over the +lessons, mastering each in turn with patient perseverance. + +Pop viewed this proceeding with disfavor. He seemed to sense the +entering wedge that was to separate her from him. His pride in her +accomplishment was overshadowed by his jealousy, and when she was able +to read a whole page and attempted to explain the intricate process to +him, he was distinctly cast down. He left the hospital that afternoon +for the first time, and was gone until dusk. When he returned he carried +a bunch of faded wild flowers that he had tramped two miles in the +country to get for his girl. + +May dragged into June, and still they were kept at the hospital. The old +man became as restless as a caged animal; he paced the corridors for +hours at a time and his eyes grew furtive and defiant. He, who had lived +out of sight of the smoke from his nearest neighbor's chimneys, who had +spent his life in the vast, still solitudes of the hills, was incredibly +lonely here among his fellow men. + +"If Pop has to stay here much longer, I'm afraid he'll smash the +furniture," said the night nurse who, like everybody else in the ward, +had grown interested in the old man. "He packs his things every morning +before the doctor comes, only to unpack them after he leaves." + +"The confinement is telling on him," said Miss Fletcher. "I wish for his +sake they could start home to-day. But I do hate to see Sally go! The +girl is getting her first taste of civilization, and I've never seen +anyone so eager to learn. We have to take the books away from her every +day, and when she can't study she begs to be allowed to roll bandages. +The third day she sat up she wanted to help nurse the other patients. + +"I am afraid we have spoiled her for hoeing tobacco, and planting corn," +said the night nurse. + +"I hope so," Miss Fletcher answered fervently. + +It was nearly the last of June when the doctor dismissed his patient. +"This doesn't mean that she is well," he warned Pop. "You will have to +be careful of her for a long time. She has worked too hard for a growing +girl, and she's not as strong now as she was." + +"She will be!" Pop responded confidently. "That thar gal is made outen +iron! Her maw was afore her. Liza wuz my third wife, an' she'd borned +six or seven children, when she died at thirty-five, an', by Joshuy, +she'd never once hed a doctor in all her life!" + +Pop's joy over their dismissal was slightly dimmed by Sally's reception +of the news. He saw her draw a long breath and bite her lips; then he +saw what he had never seen since she was a baby, two large tears gather +slowly in her eyes and roll down on the pillow. He watched them in +amazement. + +"Sal, whut ails ye?" he asked anxiously, after the doctor was gone. + +"I want to git a larnin'!" she broke out. "I don't want to go back to +the hills." + +Instantly the old man's face, which had been tender, hardened to a mask +of fury. + +"That passel of fool women's been workin' on ye," he cried hoarsely, +"larnin', larnin', thet's all they know. Ain't the Fork good enough fer +ye? Ain't the cabin whar yer paw, an' yer grandpaw, an' yer +great-grandpaw was borned good enough for ye?" + +"Yes, Pop, yes!" she gasped, terrified at the storm she had raised. "I'm +a-goin' back with you. Don't tek on so, Pop, I'm a-goin'!" + +But the tempest was raging, and the old man got up and strode angrily up +and down the small room, filling the air with his indignation. + +"I should say you _wuz_ goin' back! I'd like to see any of 'em try to +keep you. They'd like to make one o' them dressed-up doll women outen +you! You're goin' back with me to the Fork, an' ef thar's ever any more +nussin' er doctorin' to do, I'm a-goin' to do hit. I've nussed three +women on their deathbeds, an' when your time comes I 'low I kin handle +you too." + +Then his mood changed suddenly, and he sat down by the bed. + +"Sal," he said almost persuasively, "you'll git over this here +foolishness. Ag'in' fall you'll be a-cappin corn, an' a-roastin' sweet +pertatoes, an' singin' them ole ballarts along with the Hicks gals, an' +Cy West, an' Bub Holly. An' I'll tote you behind me on the beast over +the Ridge to the Baptist Meetin' House the very next feet-washin' they +hev. Jes' think how good hit's goin' to be to see the sun a-risin' over +Ole Baldy, an' to hev room to stretch an' breathe in. Seems ez if I +hain't been able to git my lungs full of wind sense I left Jackson." + +"I know it, Pop," Sally said miserably. "You growed old in the hills +afore you ever seen the Settlements. But sence I got a sight of whut +folks is a-doin' down here, 'pears like I can't be reconciled to goin' +back. 'Tain't the work back home, nor the lonesomeness, tho' the Lord +knows the only folks thet ever does pass is when they're totin' deads +down the creek bottom. Hit's the feelin' of bein' shet off from my +chanct. Ef I could git a larnin' I wouldn't ask nothin' better then to +go back an' pass it along. When I see these here gals a-larnin' how to +holp the sick, an' keer fer babies, an' doctor folks, I lay here an' +steddy 'bout all the good I could do back home ef I only knowed how." + +"You do know how," Pop declared vociferously; "ain't you bin a-lookin' +after folks thet's ailin' around the Fork fer a couple of years or more? +Ez fer these new-fangled doctorin's, they won't nary one ov 'em do the +good yarbs will. I'd ruther trust bitter-goldenseal root to cure a +ailment than all the durn physic in this here horspittle. I ben +a-studyin' these here doctors, an' I don't take much stock in 'em; +instid of workin' on a organ thet gets twisted, they ups and draws hit. +Now the Lord A'mighty put thet air pertickler thing in you fer some good +reason, an' ther's bound to be a hitch in the machinery when hit's took +out. Hit's a marvel to me some of these here patients ain't a amblin' +round on all fours from what's been did to their insides!" + +"But think whut the doctor did fer me," urged Sally. + +"I ain't fergittin'," Pop said suddenly, "an' I've paid 'em fer hit. But +ef they calkerlate on yer takin' root here, they're treein' the wrong +possum. You're a-goin' home along o' me to-morrow." + +That afternoon he left the hospital, and several hours later was seen +walking up Monument Street with his arm full of bundles. + +"I believe he's been buying clothes to take Sally home in!" said one of +the nurses, who was watching him from an upper window. "He asked me this +morning if I knew a place where he could buy women's togs." + +"It's a shame he won't let the girl stay," said Miss Fletcher. "I have +been talking to the superintendent, and she is quite willing to let her +do light work around the hospital and pick up what training she can. I +should be glad enough to look after her, and there's a good night school +two blocks over." + +"Why don't you talk to the old man?" urged the nurse. "You are the only +one who has ever been able to do anything with him. Perhaps you could +make him see what an injustice he is doing the girl." + +"I believe I'll try," said Miss Fletcher. + +The next morning, when she came on duty, she found Sally's bed the +repository of a strange assortment of wearing apparel. A calico dress +of pronounced hue, a large lace jabot, and a small pair of yellow kid +gloves were spread out for inspection. + +"I knowed they wuz too leetle," Pop was saying, as he carefully smoothed +the kid fingers, "but I 'lowed you could kerry 'em in yer hand." + +There was an unusual eagerness in his hard face, an evident desire to +make up to Sally in one way for what he was depriving her of in another. +He was more talkative than at any time since coming to the hospital, and +he dilated with satisfaction on the joys that awaited their home-coming. + +"May I have a little talk with you before you go?" asked Miss Fletcher. + +He flashed on her a quick look of suspicion, but her calm, impassive +face told him nothing. She was a pretty woman, and Pop had evidently +recognized the fact from the start. + +"Wal, I'll come now," he said, rising reluctantly; "but, Sal, you git +yer clothes on an' be ready to start time I git back. I ain't anxious to +stay round these here diggin's no longer'n need be. Besides, that thar +railroad car mought take a earlier start. You be ready ag'in I git +back." + +For an hour and a quarter Miss Fletcher was shut up in the linen closet +with the old man. What arguments and persuasions she brought to bear are +not known. Occasionally his voice could be heard in loud and angry +dissent, but when at last they emerged he looked like some old king of +the jungle that has been captured and tamed. His shoulders drooped, his +one arm hung limply by his side, and his usually restless eyes were bent +upon the floor. + +Without a word he strode back to the room where Sally in her misfit +clothes was waiting for him. + +"Come along o' me, Sal," he commanded sternly as he picked up his carpet +sack. "Leave your things whar they be." + +Silently they passed out of the ward, down the stairway, through the +long vaultlike corridor to the superintendent's room. Once there he +flung back his rusty coat and ripped the last bill but one from its +hiding place. + +"That thar is fer my gal," he said defiantly to the superintendent. +"She'll git one the fust day of every month. Give her the larnin' she's +so hell-bent on, stuff her plumb full on it. An' ef you let ennything +happen to her"--his brows lowered threateningly--"I'll come back an' +blow yer whole blame' horspittle into eternity!" + +"Pop!" Sally pleaded, "Pop!" + +But his emotions were at high tide and he did not heed her. Pushing her +roughly aside, he strode back to the entrance hall, and was about to +pick up his carpet sack when his gaze was suddenly arrested by the great +marble figure that bends its thorn-crowned head in pity over the unhappy +and the pain-racked mortals that pass beneath its outstretched hands. + +"You ain't goin' to leave me like this, Pop?" begged Sally. "Ef you take +it so hard, I'll go back, an' I'll go willin'. Jus' say the word, Pop, +an' I'll go!" + +The old mountaineer's one hand closed on the girl's bony arm in a tight +clasp, his shoulders heaved, and his massive features worked, but his +gaze never left the calm, pitying face of the Saviour overhead. He had +followed his child without a tremor into the Valley of the Shadow of +Death, but at the entrance of this new life, where he must let her go +alone, his courage failed and his spirit faltered. His dominant will, +hitherto the only law he knew, was in mortal combat with a new and +unknown force that for the first time had entered his life. + +For several minutes he stood thus, his conflicting passions swaying him, +as opposing gales shake a giant forest tree. Then he resolutely loosened +his grip on the girl's arm and taking up his burden, without a word or a +backward glance, set his face toward the hills, leaving an awkward, +wistful girl watching him with her tears only half obscuring the vision +that was already dawning for her. + + + + +HOODOOED + + +Gordon Lee Surrender Jones lay upon what he confidently claimed to be +his death-bed. Now and again he glanced furtively at the cabin door and +listened. Being assured that nobody was coming, he cautiously extricated +a large black foot from the bedclothes, and, holding it near the candle, +laboriously tied a red string about one of his toes. He was a powerful +negro, with a close-cropped bullet-head, a massive bulldog jaw, and a +pair of incongruously gentle and credulous eyes. + +According to his own diagnosis, he was suffering from "asmy, bronketers, +pneumony, grip, diabeters, and old age." The last affliction was hardly +possible, as Gordon Lee was probably born during the last days of the +Civil War, though he might have been eighty, for all he knew to the +contrary. In addition to his acknowledged ailments, there was one he +cherished in secret. It was by far the most mysterious and deadly of the +lot, a malady to be pondered on in the dark watches of the night, to be +treated with weird rites and ceremonies, and to be cured only by some +specialist versed in the deepest lore of witchcraft; for Gordon Lee knew +beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that a hoodoo had been laid upon +him. + +Of course, like most of his race, he had had experiences in this line +before; but this was different. In fact, it was no less a calamity than +a cricket in his leg. Just how the cricket got into his leg was a matter +too deep for human speculation; but the fact that it was there, and that +it hopped with ease from knee to ankle, and made excruciating excursions +into his five toes, was as patent as the toes themselves. + +What complicated the situation for Gordon Lee was that he could not +discuss this painful topic with his wife. Amanda Jones had embarked on +the higher education, and had long ago thrown overboard her old +superstitions. She was not only Queen Mother of the Sisters of the +Order of the Star, and an officer in various church societies, but she +was also a cook in the house of Mrs. James Bertram, President of the +State Federation of Women's Clubs. The crumbs of wisdom that fell from +the lips of the great Mrs. Bertram were carefully preserved by Amanda, +and warmed over, with sundry garnishings of her own, for the various +colored clubs to which she belonged. + +Gordon Lee had succeeded in adorning only three toes when he heard a +quick step on the gravel outside and, hastily getting his foot under +cover, he settled back on the pillow, closed his eyes, and began +laboriously inhaling with a wheeze and exhaling with a groan. + +The candle sputtered as the door was flung open, and a small, energetic +mulatto woman, twenty years Gordon Lee's junior, bustled into the room. + +"Good lan'! but it's hot in heah!" she exclaimed, flinging up a window. +"I got a good mind to _nail_ this heah window down f'om the top." + +"I done open' de door fer a spell dis mawnin'," said Gordon Lee, +sullenly, pulling the bedclothes tighter about his neck. "Lettin' in all +dis heah night air meks my eyes sore." + +The bedclothes, having thus been drawn up from the bottom of the bed, +left the patient's feet exposed, and Amanda immediately spied the +string-encircled toes. + +"Gordon Lee Surrender Jones," she exclaimed indignantly, "has that there +meddlin' ol' Aunt Kizzy been here again?" + +Gordon Lee's eyes blinked, and his thick, sullen under lip dropped half +an inch lower. + +"Ef you think," continued Amanda, furiously, "that I'm a-goin' to keep +on a-workin' my fingers to the bone, lak I been doin' for the past year, +a-payin' doctors' bills, an' buyin' medicines fer you, while you lay up +in this here bed listenin' to the fool talk of a passel of igneramuses, +you's certainly mistaken. Hit's bad enough to have you steddyin' up new +ailments ever' day, without folks a-puttin' 'em in yer head. Whut them +strings tied on yer toes fer?" + +Gordon Lee's wheezing had ceased under his severe mental strain, and now +he lay blinking at the ceiling, utterly unable to give a satisfactory +answer. + +"Aunt Kizzy jes happen' 'long," he muttered presently. "Ain't no harm in +a' ol' frien' passin' de time ob day." + +"Whut them _strings_ tied on yer toes fer?" repeated Amanda with fearful +insistence. + +Gordon Lee, pushed to the extreme, and knowing by experience that he was +as powerless in the hands of his diminutive wife as an elephant in those +of his keeper, weakly capitulated. + +"Aunt Kizzy 'low'--I ain't sayin' she's right; I's jes tellin' you what +she _'low'_--Aunt Kizzy 'low' dat, 'cordin' to de symtems, she +say',--an' I ain't sayin' I b'lieve her,--but she say' hit looks to her +lak I's sufferin' f'om a hoodoo." + +"A hoodoo!" Amanda's scorn was unbounded. "Ef it don't beat my time how +some of you niggers hang on to them ol' notions. 'Tain't nothin' 't all +but ignorant superstition. Ain't I tol' you that a hunderd times?" + +"Yes, you done tol' me," said Gordon Lee, putting up a feeble defense. +"You all time quoilin' an' runnin' down conjurin' an' bad-luck signs +an' all de _nigger_ superstitions; but you's quick 'nough to tek up all +dese heah _white_ superstitions." + +"How you mean?" demanded Amanda. + +Gordon Lee, flattered at having any remark of his noticed, proceeded to +elaborate. + +"I mean all dis heah talk 'bout hits bein' bad luck to sleep wid de +windows shet, an' bout flies carrying disease, an' 'bout worms gittin' +in de milk ef you leave it settin' roun' unkivered." + +"Not worms," corrected Amanda; "_germs_. That ain't no superstition; +that's a scientific fac'. They is so little you don't see 'em; but +they's there all right. Mis' Bertram says they's ever'where--in the +water, in the air, crawlin' up the very walls." + +Gordon Lee looked fearfully at the ceiling, as if he expected an +immediate attack from that direction. + +"I ain't sayin' dey ain't, Amanda. Come to think of hit, seems lak I +'member 'em scrunchin' 'g'inst my teeth when I eats. I ain't sayin' +nothin' 't all 'bout white folks superstitions,--I 'spec' dey's true, +ebery one ob 'em,--but hit look' lak you oughtn't to shet yer min' +ag'inst de colored signs dat done come down f'om yer maw an' yer paw, +an' yer gran'maw an' gran'paw fer back as Adam. I 'spec' Adam hisself +was conjured. Lak as not de sarpint done tricked him into regalin' +hisself wid dat apple. But I s'pose you'd lay hit on de germs whut was +disportin' deyselves on de apple. But dey ain't no use in 'sputin' dat +p'int, 'ca'se de fac' remains dat de apple's done et." + +"I ain't astin' you to dispute nothin'," cried Amanda, by this time in a +high state of indignation. "I'm a-talkin' scientific fac's, an' you're +talkin' nigger foolishness. The ignorance jes nachully oozes outen the +pores o' your skin." + +Gordon Lee, thus arraigned, lay with contracted brows and protruding +lips, nursing his wrongs, while Amanda disappeared into the adjoining +room, there to vent her wrath on the pots and pans about the stove. + +Despite the fact that it was after eight o'clock and she had been on her +feet all day, she set about preparing the evening meal for her husband +with all the care she had bestowed on the white folks' supper. + +Soon the little cabin was filled with the savory odor of bacon, and when +the corn battercakes began to sizzle promisingly, and she flipped them +over dexterously with a fork, Gordon Lee forgot his ill humor, and +through the door watched the performance with growing eagerness. + +"Git yerself propped up," Amanda called when the cakes were encircled +with crisp, brown edges. "I'll git the bread-board to put acrost yer +knees. You be eatin' this soup while I dishes up the bacon an' onions. +How'd you like to have a little jam along with yer apple-dumplin'?" + +Gordon Lee, sitting up in bed with this liberal repast spread on the +bread-board across his knees, and his large, bare feet, with their pink +adornments, rising like ebony tombstones at the foot of the bed, forgot +his grievance. + +"Jam!" he repeated. "Well, dat dere Sally Ann Slocum's dumplin's may +need jam, er Maria Johnsing's, but dis heah dumplin' is complete in +hitself. Ef dey ever was a pusson dat could assemble a' apple-dumplin' +so's you swoller hit 'most afore hit gits to yer mouf, dat pusson is +you." + +Harmony being thus restored, and the patient having emptied all the +dishes before him, Amanda proceeded to clear up. Her small, energetic +figure moved briskly from one room to the other, and as she worked she +sang in a low, chanting tone: + + "You got a shoe, + I got a shoe, + All God's children got shoes. + When I git to heaben, gwine try on my shoes, + Gwine walk all over God's heaben, heaben, heaben. + Ever'body's talkin' 'bout heaben ain't gwine to heaben-- + Heaben, heaben, gwine walk all over God's heaben." + +But the truce, thus declared, was only temporary. During the long days +that Amanda was away at her work, Gordon Lee had nothing to do but lie +on his back and think of his ailments. For twenty years he had worked in +an iron foundry, where his muscles were as active as his brain was +passive. Now that the case was reversed, the result was disastrous. +From an attack of rheumatism a year ago he had developed an amazing +number of complaints, all of which finally fell under the head of the +dread hoodoo. + +Aunt Kizzy, the object of Amanda's special scorn, he held in great +reverence. She had been a familiar figure in his mother's chimney-corner +when he was a boy, and to doubt her knowledge of charms and conjuring +was to him nothing short of heresy. She knew the value of every herb and +simple that grew in Hurricane Hollow. She was an adept in getting people +into the world and getting them out of it. She was constantly consulted +about weaning calves, and planting crops according to the stage of the +moon. And for everything in the heavens above and the earth beneath and +the waters under the earth she "had a sign." + +Since Gordon Lee's illness, she had fallen into the habit of dropping in +to sit with him at such hours as Amanda would not be there. She would +crouch over the fire, elbows on knees and pipe in mouth, and regale him +with hair-raising tales of "hants" and "sperrits" and the part she had +played in exorcising them. + +"Dis heah case ob yourn," she said one day, "ain't no ordinary case. I +done worked on lizards in de laigs, but I nebber had no 'casion to treat +a _cricket_ in de laig. Looks lak de cricket is a more persistent animal +dan de lizard. 'Sides, ez I signify afore, dis heah case ob yourn ain't +no ordinary case." + +"Why--why ain't it?" Gordon Lee stammered apprehensively. + +Aunt Kizzy lifted a bony black hand, and shook her turbaned head +ominously. + +"Dey's two kinds ob hoodoos," she said, "de libin' an' de daid. De daid +ones is de easiest to lift, 'ca'se dey answers to charms; but nobody can +lift a libin' hoodoo 'ceptin' de one dat laid hit on. I been a-steddyin' +an' a-steddyin', an' de signs claim dat dis heah hoodoo ob yourn ain't +no daid hoodoo." + +By this time the whites of Gordon Lee's eyes were largely in evidence, +and he raised himself fearfully on his elbow. + +"Aunt Kizzy," he whispered hoarsely, "how am I gwine to fin' out who 't +is done conjured me?" + +"By de sign ob seben," she answered mysteriously. "I's gwine home an' +work hit out, den I come back an' tell yer. Ef my 'spicions am true, dat +dis heah is a _libin'_ hoodoo, de only power in de earth to tek it off +am ter git er bigger trick an' lay on de top ob hit. I'm gwine home now, +an' I'll be back inside de hour." + +That night when Amanda returned home she found Gordon Lee preoccupied +and silent. He ate gingerly of the tempting meal she prepared, and +refused to have his bed straightened before he went to sleep. + +"Huccome you put yer pillow on the floor?" she asked. + +"I ain't believin' in feathers," he answered sullenly; "dey meks me heah +things." + +In vain Amanda tried to cheer him; she recounted the affairs of the day; +she gave him all the gossip of the Order of the Sisters of the Star. He +lay perfectly stolid, his horizontal profile resembling a mountain-range +the highest peak of which was his under lip. + +Finally Amanda's patience wore thin. + +"Whut's the matter with you, Gordon Lee Surrender Jones?" she demanded. +"Whut you mean by stickin' out yer lip lak a circus camel?" + +Now that the opportunity for action had come, he feared to take +advantage of it. Amanda, small as she was, looked firm and determined, +and he knew by experience that he was no match for her. + +"'Tain't fer you to be astin' _me_ whut's de matter," he began +significantly. "De glove's on de other han'." + +"Whut you 'sinuatin', nigger?" cried Amanda, now thoroughly roused. + +"I's tired layin' heah under dis heah spell," complained Gordon Lee. "I +knowed all 'long 'twas a hoodoo, but I neber 'spicioned till to-day who +was 'sponsible fer hit. Aunt Kizzy tried de test, an', 'fore de Lawd, +hit p'inted powerful' near home." + +Amanda sank into the one rocking-chair the cabin boasted, and dropped +her hands in her lap. Her anger had given place for the moment to sheer +amazement. + +"Well, if this ain't the beatenest thing I ever heard tell of in all my +born days! Do you mean to say that that honery old cross-eyed nigger +Kizzy had the audacity to set up before my fire, in my house, an' tell +my husband I'd laid a spell on him?" + +"Dat's whut de signs p'int to," said Gordon Lee, doggedly. + +Amanda rose, and it seemed to him that she towered to the ceiling. With +hands on hips and head thrown back, she delivered herself, and her voice +rang with suppressed passion. + +"Yas, I laid a spell on yer! I laid a spell on yer when I let you quit +work, an' lay up in bed wid nothin' to do but to circulate yer symtems. +I put a spell on yer when I nuss you an' feed you an' s'port you an' +spile the life plumb outen you. I ain't claimin' 't wasn't rheumatism in +the fust place, but it's a spell now, all right--a spell I did lay on +yer, a spell of laziness pure an' simple!" + +After this outburst the relations were decidedly strained in the little +cabin at the far end of Hurricane Hollow. Gordon Lee persistently +refused to eat anything his wife cooked for him, depending upon the +food that Aunt Kizzy or other neighbors brought in. + +To Amanda the humiliation of this was acute. She used every strategy to +conciliate him, and at last succeeded by bringing home some pig's feet. +His appetite got the better of his resentment, and he disposed of four +with evident relish. + +With the approach of winter, however, other and graver troubles +developed. The rent of the cabin, which had always been promptly paid +out of Gordon Lee's wages, had now to come out of Amanda's limited +earnings. Two years' joint savings had gone to pay the doctor and the +druggist. + +Amanda gave up the joys of club life, and began to take in small +washings, which she did at night. Gordon Lee, surrounded by every luxury +save that of approbation, continued to lie on his back in the white bed +and nurse his hallucinations. + +"'Mandy," he said one morning as she was going to work, "wished you'd +ast Marse Jim ef he got a' ol' pair of pants he could spare me." + +Her face brightened. + +"You fixin' to git up, Honey?" she asked hopefully. + +"No, I's jes collectin' ob my grave-clothes," said Gordon Lee. "Dere's a +pair ob purple socks in de bottom drawer, an' a b'iled shirt in de +wardrobe. But I been layin' heah steddyin' 'bout dat shirt. Hit's got +Marse Jim's name on de tail of it, an' s'pose I git to heaben, an' St. +Peter he read de name an' look hit up in de jedgment book. He's 'lowable +to come to me an' say, 'Huccome you wearin' dat shirt? Dey ain't but one +James Bartrum writ down in de book, an' he ain't no colored pusson.' +'Co'se I _could_ explain, but I's got 'splainin' 'nough to do when I git +to heaben widout dat." + +Amanda paused with her hand on the doorknob. + +"Marse Jim'll beat you to heaben; that is, ef he don't beat you to the +bad place first. You git that idea of dyin' outen yer mind, and you'll +git well." + +"I can't git well till de hoodoo's lifted. Aunt Kizzy 'lows--" + +But the door was slammed before he could finish. + +The limit of Amanda's endurance was reached about Christmas-time. One +gloomy Sunday afternoon when she had finished the numerous chores that +had accumulated during the week, she started for the coal-shed to get an +armful of kindling. + +Dusk was coming on, and Hurricane Hollow had never seemed more lonesome +and deserted. The corn-shocks leaned toward one another as if they were +afraid of a common enemy. Somewhere down the road a dog howled dismally. + +Amanda resolutely pushed open the door of the shed, and felt her way +toward the pile of chips. Suddenly she found her progress blocked by a +strange and colossal object. It was an oblong affair, and it stood on +one end, which was larger than the other. With growing curiosity she +felt its back and sides, and then peered around it to get a front view. +What she saw sent her flying back to the cabin with her mouth open and +her limbs shaking. + +"Gordon Lee," she cried, "whose coffin is that settin' in our +coal-shed?" + +The candidate for the next world looked very much embarrassed. + +"Well, 'Mandy," he began lamely, "I can't say 'zactly ez hit's any +pusson's jes yit. But hit's gwine be mine when de summons comes." + +"Where'd you git it at?" demanded his Nemesis. + +His eyes shifted guiltily. + +"De foundry boss done been heah las' week, an' he gimme some money. I +'lowed I was layin' hit up fer a rainy day." + +"An' you mean to tell me," she cried, "that you took that money an' +spent it for a coffin, a white one with shiny handles, an' a satin +bolster that'll done be wore out, an' et up by moths, 'fore you ever git +a chancet to use it?" + +"Couldn't you fix hit up in terbaccy er mothballs ag'in' de time I need +hit?" Gordon Lee asked helplessly. + +But Amanda was too exasperated this time to argue the matter. Fifty +dollars' worth of coffin in the coal-shed and fifty cents' worth of coal +in the bin constituted a situation that demanded her entire attention. + +For six months now Gordon Lee had remained in bed, firm in the belief +that he could not walk on account of the spell that had been laid upon +him. During that time he had come to take a luxurious satisfaction in +the interest his case was exciting in the neighborhood. Being in +excellent physical condition, he could afford the melancholy joy of +playing with the idea of death. He spent hours discussing the details of +his funeral, which had assumed in his mind the proportions of a pageant. + +Amanda, on the other hand, overworked and anxious, and compelled to +forego her lodges and societies, became more and more irascible and +depressed. In some subtle way she was aware that the sympathy of the +colored community was solidly with Gordon Lee. Nobody now asked her how +he was. Nobody came to the cabin when she was there, though it was +apparent that visitors were frequent during her absence. Aunt Kizzy had +evidently been busy in the neighborhood. + +One night Amanda sat very long over the stove rolling her hair into +little wads about the length and thickness of her finger, then tightly +wrapping each with a stout bit of cord to take out the kink. When Gordon +Lee roused himself now and then to inquire suspiciously what she was +doing, she answered with ominous calm. + +"Jes steddyin', that's all." + +Her meditations evidently resulted in a plan of action, for the next +night she came home from her work in a most mysterious and unusual mood. +Gordon Lee heard her moving some heavy and cumbersome article across the +kitchen floor, then he saw her surreptitiously put something into a tin +can before she presented herself at the foot of his bed. + +"'Mandy," he said, anxious to break the silence, and distrusting that +subdued look of excitement in her eyes, "did you bring me dat possum, +lak you 'lowed you was gwine to?" + +Her lips tightened. + +"Yes, I got the possum, an' also some apples fer a dumplin'; but before +I lays a stick to the fire I'm goin' to say my say." + +Gordon Lee looked at her with consternation. She stood at the foot of +his bed as if it wore a rostrum, and with an air of detached dignity +addressed him as if he had been the whole Order of the Sisters of the +Star. + +"I done arrive' at a decision," she declared. "I arrive' at it in the +watches of the night. I'm goin' to cure you 'cordin' to yer lights an' +knowledge. I'm goin' to lif' that spell ef I has to purge my immortal +soul to do it." + +"'Mandy," cried Gordon Lee, eagerly, "you mean to say you gwine to +remove the hoodoo?" + +"I am," she said solemnly. "I'm goin' to draw out all yer miseries fer +the rest of yer life, _includin' of the cricket in yer leg_." + +"'Mandy," he cried again fearfully, "you ain't gwine ter hurt me in no +way, is you?" + +"Not effen you do as I tell you. But fust of all you got to take the +pledge of silence. Whatsomever takes place heah in this cabin to-night +ain't never to be revealed till the jedgment-day. Do you swear?" + +The big negro, fascinated with the mystery, and deeply impressed with +his wife's manner, laid his hand on the Bible and solemnly took the +oath. + +"Now," she continued impressively, "while I go in the kitchen an' git +the supper started, I want you to ease yerse'f outen the bed on to the +floor, an' lay with yer head to the north an' your han's outspread, an' +yer mind on the heabenly kingdom." + +"Air you shore hit ain't gwine hurt me?" again he queried. + +"Not if you do 'zactly like I say. Besides," she added dryly, "if it +comes to the worst, ain't you ready an' waitin' to go!" + +"Yas," agreed Gordon Lee; "but I ain't fixin' to go till I's sent fer." + +It took not only time, but courage, for him to follow the prescribed +directions. He had for a long time cherished the belief that any +exertion would prove fatal; but the prospect of having the hoodoo +removed, together with a lively curiosity as to what means Amanda would +employ to remove it, spurred him to persist despite groans, wheezes, +and ejaculations. + +Once stretched upon the floor, with his head to the north and his arms +extended, he encountered a new difficulty: his mind refused to dwell +upon the heavenly kingdom. Anxiety as to the treatment he was about to +be subjected to alternated with satisfaction at the savory odors that +floated in from the kitchen. If the ordeal was uncertain, the reward at +least was sure. + +After what seemed to him an endless vigil, Amanda appeared in the +doorway. With measured steps and great solemnity of mien, she +approached, holding in her right hand a piece of white chalk. + +"De hour has come," she chanted. "With this chalk, an' around this man, +I make the mark of his image." Stooping, she began to trace his outline +on the dull rag-carpet, speaking monotonously as she worked: "Gordon Lee +Surrender Jones, I command all the aches an' the pains, all the miseries +an' fool notions, includin' the cricket in yer leg, to pass outen yer +real body into this heah image on the floor. Keep yer head still, +nigger! I pass 'em through you into yer symbol, an' from thence I draws +'em out to satisfy yer mind now and forever more, amen. Now roll over to +the right an' watch what's about to happen." + +The patient by this time was so interested that he followed instructions +mechanically. He saw Amanda dart into the kitchen and emerge with an +object totally unfamiliar to him. It was a heavy, box-shaped object, +attached to a long handle. This she placed on the chalked outline of his +right leg. Then she stood with her eyes fixed on the floor and solemnly +chanted: + + "Draw, draw, 'cordin' to the law, + Lif' the hoodoo, now I beg, + An' draw the cricket + F'om this heah leg!" + +And Gordon Lee, raised on his elbow, watching with protruding eyes, +_heard_ it draw! He heard the heavy, panting breathing as Amanda ran the +vacuum cleaner over every inch of the chalked outline, and when she +stopped and, kneeling beside the box, removed a small bag of dust and +lint, he was not in the least surprised to see a cricket jump from the +débris. + +"Praise be!" he cried in sudden ecstasy. "De pain's done lef me, do +spell's done lifted!" + +"An' the cricket's done removed," urged Amanda, skilfully getting the +machine out of sight. "You seen it removed with yer own eyes." + +"Wid my own eyes," echoed Gordon Lee, still in a state of self-hypnosis. + +"An' now," she said, "I'm goin' to git that supper ready jes as quick ez +I kin." + +"Ain't you gwine help me back in bed fust?" he asked from where he still +lay on the floor. + +"What fer?" she exclaimed. "Ain't the spell lifted? I'm goin' to set the +table in the kitchen, an' ef you wants any of that possum an' sweet +pertater an' that apple-dumplin' an' hard sass, you got to walk in there +to git em." + +For ten minutes Gordon Lee Surrender Jones lay flat on his back on the +floor, trying to trace the course of human events during the last +half-hour. Against the dim suspicion that Amanda had in some way +outwitted him rose the staggering evidence of that very live cricket +that still hopped about the room, chirping contentedly. + +Twice Amanda spoke to him, but he refused to answer. His silence did not +seem to affect her good spirits, for she continued her work, singing +softly to herself. + +Despite himself, he became aware of the refrain, and before he knew it +he was going over the familiar words with her: + + "Oh, chicken-pie an 'pepper, oh! + Chicken-pie is good, I know; + So is wattehmillion, too; + So is rabbit in a stew; + So is dumplin's, b'iled with squab; + So is cawn, b'iled on de cob; + So is chine an' turkey breast; + So is aigs des f'om de nest." + +Gordon Lee rose unsteadily. Holding to a chair, he reached the table, +then the door, through which he shambled, and sheepishly took his old +place at the foot of the table. Amanda outdid herself in serving him, +emptying the larder in honor of the occasion; but neither of them spoke +until the apple-dumpling was reached. Then Gordon Lee turned toward her +and said confidentially: + +"I wished we knowed some corpse we could sell dat coffin to." + + + + +A MATTER OF FRIENDSHIP + + +When a jovial young person in irreproachable pongee, and a wholly +reproachable brown topi, scrambled up the lifting gang-plank of the big +Pacific liner, setting sail from Yokohama, he was welcomed with acclaim. +The Captain stopped swearing long enough to megaphone a greeting from +the bridge, the First Officer slapped him on the back, while the half +dozen sailors, tugging at the ropes, grinned as one man. + +Three months before this good ship _East India_ had carried Frederick +Reynolds out to the Orient and deposited him on the alien soil, an +untried youth of unimpeachable morals with a fatal facility for making +friends. + +The temporary transplanting had had a strange and exotic effect. The +East has a way of developing crops of wild oats that have been neglected +in the West, and by the end of his sojourn Mr. Frederick Reynolds had +seen more, felt more, and lived more than in all of his previous +twenty-four years put together. He had learned the difference between a +"straight flush" and a "full house" under the palms at Raffles Hotel in +Singapore; he had been instructed in the ways of the wise in Shanghai by +a sophisticated attaché of the French Legation, who imparted his +knowledge between sips of absinthe, as he looked down on the passing +show from a teahouse on the Bubbling Well Road; he had rapturously +listened to every sweet secret that Japan had to tell, and had left a +wake of smiles from Nagasaki to Yokohama. + +In fact, in three short months he was fully qualified to pass a +connoisseur's judgment on a high-ball, to hold his own in a game of +poker, and to carry on a fairly coherent flirtation in four different +languages. + +With this newly acquired wisdom he was now setting sail for home, having +accomplished his downward career with such alacrity that he did not at +all realize what had happened to him. + +Nor did the return voyage promise much in the way of silent meditation +and timely repentance. The Captain placed Reynolds next to him at table, +declaring that he was like an electric fan on a sultry day; the Purser, +with the elasticity of conscience peculiar to pursers, moved him from +the inexpensive inside room which he had engaged, to a spacious +state-room on the promenade deck, where sufficient corks were drawn +nightly to make a small life preserver. + +The one person who watched these proceedings with disfavor was a short, +attenuated, bow-legged Chinaman, with a face like a grotesque brass +knocker, and a taciturnity that enveloped him like a fog. + +On the voyage out, Tsang Foo, the assistant deck steward, had gotten +into a fight with a brother Chinaman, and had been saved from dismissal +by Reynolds's timely intercession at headquarters. In dumb gratitude for +this service, he had laid his celestial soul at the feet of the young +American and sworn eternal allegiance. + +From the day Reynolds reëmbarked, Tsang's silken, slippered feet +silently followed him from smoking-room to bar, from bar back to +smoking-room. Whatever emotion troubled the depths of his being, no sign +of it rose to his ageless, youthless face. But whether he was silently +performing his duties on deck, or sitting on the hatchway smoking his +opium, his vigilant eyes from their long, narrow slits kept watch. + +For thirteen days the sun sparkled on the blue waters of the Pacific, +and favoring breezes gave every promise of landing the _East India_ in +port with the fastest record of the season. Bets went higher and higher +on each day's running, and the excitement was intense each evening in +the smoking-room when the numbers most likely to win the next day's pool +were auctioned off to the highest bidder. + +It was the afternoon of the fourteenth day, thirty-six hours out from +San Francisco, that Mr. Frederick Reynolds, who had bet more, drunk +more, talked more, and laughed more than any man on board, suddenly came +to his full senses. Then it was that he went quietly to his luxurious +state-room with its brass bed and crimson hangings, and took a +forty-two caliber revolver from his steamer trunk. Slipping a cartridge +into the cylinder, he sat breathing heavily and staring impatiently +before him. + +From outside above the roar of the ocean, came the tramp of the +passengers on deck, and the trivial scraps of conversation that floated +in kept side-tracking his thoughts, preventing their reaching the +desired destination. + +The world, which he had sternly resolved to leave, seemed determined to +stay with him as long as possible. He heard Glass, the actor, inquiring +for him, and in spite of himself he felt flattered; he heard the pretty +girl whose steamer chair was next his, make a conditional engagement +with the high-voiced army-officer, and he knew why she left the matter +open; even a plaintive old voice inquiring how long it would be before +tea, caused him to wait for the answer. + +At last, as if to present his misery in embodied form, he produced a +note-book and tried to concentrate his attention upon the items therein +recorded. Line after line of wavering figures danced in impish glee +before him, defying inspection. But at the foot of the column, like +soldiers waiting to shoot a prisoner, stood four formidable units +unquestionably pointing his way to doom. + +As be looked at them Reynolds's thoughts got back on the main track and +rushed to a conclusion. Tearing the leaf from the book, and crushing it +in his hand, he jumped to his feet. Seized with a fury of self-disgust, +he pulled off his coat and collar, and with the reckless courage of a +boy put the mouth of the revolver to his temple. + +As he did so the room darkened. He involuntarily looked up. Framed in +the circle of the port-hole were the head and shoulders of Tsang Foo. +Not a muscle of the yellow face moved, not a tremor of the slanting +eyelids showed surprise. The right hand, holding a bit of tow, +mechanically continued polishing the brass around the port-hole, but the +left--long, thin, and with claw-like nails, shot stealthily forward and +snatched the pistol. + +For a full minute the polishing continued, then face and figure +vanished, and Reynolds was left staring in impotent rage at the empty +port-hole. + +When the room steward appeared in answer to an imperative summons, he +was directed to send Tsang Foo to room No. 7 at once. + +Tsang came almost immediately, bearing tea and anchovy sandwiches, which +he urbanely placed on a camp-stool. + +"Where's my pistol?" demanded Reynolds hotly, holding to the door to +steady himself. + +Tsang's eyes, earnest as a dog's, were lifted to his: + +"He fall overboard," he explained suavely, "me velly solly." + +Reynolds impulsively lifted his arm to strike, but a second impulse, +engulfing the first, made him turn and fling himself upon his berth, +struggling to master the heavy sobs that shook him from head to foot. + +The Chinaman softly closed the door and slipped the bolt, then he +dropped to a sitting posture on the floor and waited. + +When the squall had passed, Reynolds addressed his companion from the +depths of the pillows in language suited to his comprehension. + +"Me belong large fool, Tsang!" he said savagely. "Have drink too much. +No good. You go 'long, I'm all right now." + +Tsang's eye swept the disordered room and returned to the figure on the +bed. "Suppose me go," he said, "you makee one hole in head?" + +"That's my business," said Reynolds, his wrath rekindling. "You go +'long, and get my pistol; there's a good chap." + +Tsang did not stir; he sat with his hands clasped about his knees, and +contemplated space with the abstract look of a Buddha gazing into +Nirvana. + +Reynolds passed from persuasion to profanity with no satisfactory +result. His language, whether eloquent or fiery, beat upon an +unresponsive ear. But being in that condition that demands sympathy, he +found the mere talking a relief, and presently drifted into a recital of +his woes. + +"I'm up against it, in the hole, you know, much largee trouble," he +amplified with many gestures, sitting on the side of his berth, and +pounding out excited, incoherent phrases to the impassive figure +opposite. "Company sent me out to collect money. My have spent all. No +can go back home. Suppose my lose face, more better die!" + +Tsang shifted his position and nodded gravely. Out of much that was +unintelligible, the last statement loomed clear and incontrovertible. + +"I'm a thief!" burst out Reynolds passionately, not to Tsang now, but to +the world at large, "a plain, common thief. And the worst of it is there +isn't a man in that San Francisco office that doesn't trust me down to +the ground. Then there's the Governor. O God! I can't face the +Governor!" + +Tsang sat immovable, lost in thought. Stray words and phrases helped, +but it was by some subtle working of his own complex brain that he was +arriving at the truth. + +"Father, him no can lend money?" he suggested presently. + +"The Governor? Good heavens, no. There's not enough money in our whole +family to wad a gun! They put up all they had to give me a start, and +look where I have landed! Do you suppose I'd go back and ask them to put +up a thousand more for my rotten foolishness?" He knotted his hands +together until the nails grew white then, seeing the unenlightened face +below, he added emphatically: "No, no, Tsang, no can askee!" + +"How fashion you losee money!" asked Tsang. + +"The money? Oh, belong gamble. Bet on ship's run. First day--win. Second +day--win. Then lose, lose, keep on losing. Didn't know half the time +what I was doing. To-day my settle up; no can pay office. A thousand +dollars out! Lord! All same two thousand Mex', Tsang!" + +An invisible calculation was made on the end of the steamer trunk by a +long, pointed, fingernail, but no change of expression crossed the +yellow face. For an incalculable time Tsang sat, lost in thought. All +his conserved energy went to aid him in solving the problem. At last he +reached a decision: this was clearly a case to be laid before the only +god be knew, the god of Chance. + +"Me gamble too," he said; "me no lose." + +"But s'pose you _had_ lost? S'pose you lose what no belong you? What +thing you do?" + +"You do all same my talkee you?" asked Tsang, for the first time lifting +his eyes. + +It was a slender straw, to be sure, but Reynolds grasped at it. + +"What thing you mean, Tsang? What can I do?" + +"Two more night' to San Flancisco," said Tsang softly; "one more bet, +maybe!" + +"Oh, I've thought of that. What's the good of throwing good money after +bad? No use, I no got chance." + +"_My_ have got chance," announced Tsang emphatically, "you bet how +fashion my talkee you, your money come back." + +Reynolds studied the brass knocker of a face, but found no clue to the +riddle. "What you mean, Tsang?" he asked. "What do you know? For the +Lord's sake don't fool with me about it!" + +"Me no fool," declared Tsang. "You le' me talkee number, him win big +heap money." + +"But how do you know?" + +"Me savey," said Tsang enigmatically. + +Again Reynolds studied the impassive face. "It's on the square, Tsang? +You don't stand in with anybody below decks? The thing is on the level?" +Then finding further elucidation necessary, he added, "No belong cheat!" + +Tsang Foo shook his head positively. "No belong cheat, all belong +ploper. No man savey, only me savey, this side," and he tapped his head +significantly. + +Reynolds gave a short, unpleasant laugh. "All right," he said, thrusting +his hand in his pocket. "I'll give myself one more chance. There'll be +time to-morrow to finish my job. I'll make a bargain with you, Tsang! +Bet this, and this, and this, on the next run for me. You win, I no +makee shoot; you lose, you promise bring back pistol, then go way. My +can do what thing my wantchee, see?" + +Tsang Foo looked at him cunningly: "I win, you belong good boy? Stop +whisky-soda, maybe?" + +Reynolds laughed in spite of himself: "Going to reform me, oh? All +right, it's a bargain." + +Tsang allowed his hand to be shaken, then he carefully counted over the +express checks that had been given to him. + +"My go now," he announced as eight bells sounded from the bridge. + +As the door closed Reynolds sighed, then his eyes brightened as they +fell upon the sandwiches. Even a desperate young man on the verge of +suicide if he is hungry must needs cheer up temporarily at the sight of +food. Reynolds had taken an early breakfast after being up all night, +and had eaten nothing since. After devouring the sandwiches and tea with +relish, he ordered a hot bath, and in less than an hour was wrapped in +his berth sleeping the sleep that is not confined to the righteous. + +It was high noon the next day when he awoke. His first feeling was one +of exhilaration: the long sleep, the fresh sea air pouring in at the +port-hole, and a sense of perfect physical well-being had made him +forget, for a moment, the serious business the day might have in store +for him. + +As he lay, half dozing, he became dimly aware that something was wrong. +The throb of the engines had ceased, and an ominous stillness prevailed. +He sat up in bed and listened, then he thrust his head out of the +port-hole, only to see a deserted deck. The passage was likewise +deserted save for a hurried stewardess, who called back, over her +shoulder, "It's a man overboard, sir, on the starboard side--" + +Reynolds flung on his clothes. The boy in him was keen for excitement, +and in five minutes he was on deck, and had joined the crowd of +passengers that thronged the railing. + +The life-boat was being lowered, groaning and protesting as it cleared +the davits and swung away from the ship's side. Far behind, in the still +shining wake of the steamer, a small black object bobbed helplessly in +the gray expanse of waters. + +"What's the matter?" "Did he fall overboard!" "Did he jump in?" "Was it +suicide?" The air buzzed with questions. The sentimental contingent +clung to the theory that it was some poor stoker who could no longer +stand the heat, or a foreign refugee afraid to come into port. The more +practical argued that it was probably one of the seamen who, while doing +outside painting, had lost his balance and fallen into the sea. + +A smug, well-dressed man, with close-cropped gray beard, and a detached +gaze that seemed to go no further than his rimless glasses, turned and +spoke to Reynolds: + +"It has gotten to be quite the fashion for somebody in the steerage to +create this sort of sensation. It happened as I went over. If a man sees +fit to jump overboard, all well and good; in nine cases out of ten it's +a good riddance to the community. But why in Heaven's name should the +steamer put back? Why should several hundred people be delayed an hour +or so for the sake of an inconsiderate, useless fool?" + +Reynolds turned away sickened. From a point, apart from the rest, he +strained his eyes to keep in sight the small black object now hidden, +now revealed, by the waves. A fierce sense of kinship for that man in +the water seized him. He, too, perhaps had grappled with some +unendurable situation and been overcome. What if he was an utterly +worthless asset on the great human ledger? He was a fellow-being, +suffering, tempted, vanquished. Was it kind to bring him back, to go +through with it all again? + +For answer Reynolds's muscles strained with those of the sailors rowing +below: all the life and youth in him rose in rebellion against +unnecessary death. He watched with teeth hard set as the small boat +climbed to the crest of a wave, then plunged into the trough again, +crawling by imperceptible inches toward the bobbing spot in the water. +He longed to be in the boat, in the water even, helping to save that +human life that only on the verge of extinction had gained significance. +What if the man wished to die? No matter, he must be saved, saved from +himself, given another chance, made to face it out, whatever it was. +Not until then did Reynolds remember another life that be had dared to +threaten, that even now he meant to take if the wheel of chance swung +against him. Suddenly he faced the awful judgment of his own act, and +shuddered back as one who, standing upon a precipice, trembles in terror +before the mad desire to leap. + +"I'll stick it out!" he said half aloud as if in promise. "Whatever +comes, I'll take my medicine, I'll--" + +An eager murmur swept through the crowd. A sailor with a rope about him +was being lowered from the life-boat. + +For five tense minutes the two men rose and fell at the mercy of the +high waves, and the distance between them did not lessen by an inch. + +Then a passenger with a binocular announced that the sailor was swimming +around to the far side to get the man between him and the boat. + +With long, steady, overhand strokes, the sailor was gaining his way, and +when at last he reached the apparently motionless object and got a rope +under its arms, and the two were hauled into the life-boat, a rousing +cheer went up from the big steamer above. + +Reynolds drew in his breath sharply and turned away from the railing. As +he did so he was hailed by a group of friends who were returning to +their cards, waiting face downward on the small tables in the +smoking-room. + +"Behold His Nibs!" shouted Glass, the actor, "the luckiest duffer that +ever hit a high-ball!" + +"How did you happen to do it?" cried another. + +Reynolds lifted his hand to his bewildered head. "Do what?" he asked +dully. "I'm not on." + +"Oh, come!" said Glass, shaking him by the shoulder; "that bet you sent +in last night! When the Chink said you wanted to buy the low field for +all six pools, and to bet five hundred to boot that you'd win, I thought +you were either drunk or crazy. Yesterday's run was four-fifty-one, a +regular corker, and yet with even better weather conditions, you took +only the numbers below four-thirty-one. I argued with the Chinaman 'til +I was blue in the face, but he stood pat, said, you were all right, and +had told him what to do. Nothing but an accident could have saved you, +and it arrived. You've won the biggest pool of the crossing, don't you +think it's about time for you to set 'em up? Say Martini cocktails for +the crowd, eh?" + +Reynolds was jostled about in congratulation and good-humored banter. +Everybody was glad of the boy's success, he was an all round favorite, +and some of the men who had won his money felt relieved to return it. + +"Here's your cocktail, Freddy," cried Glass, "and here's to you!" + +Reynolds stood in the midst of the crowd, his face flushed, his hair +tumbled. With a quick movement he sent the glass and its contents +spinning out of a near-by port-hole. + +"Not for Frederick!" he said with emphasis, "I've been that particular +kind of a fool for the last time." + +Some hours later when the crowd went below to dress for dinner, Reynolds +dropped behind to ask the Second Officer about the man who had been +rescued. + +"He is still pretty full of salt water," said the Officer, "but he is +being bailed out." + +"How did it happen?" asked Reynolds. + +"Give it up. He hasn't spoken yet. It looks as if he were getting ready +to do some outside cleaning, for he had on a life-preserver. Funny thing +about it, though, that's not his work. He's not even on duty during the +starboard watch. The man in the lookout saw him climb out on the bow, +shout something up to him, then fall backward into the water. I'll be +hanged if I can make it out. Tsang Foo is one of the steadiest sailors +on board." + +"Tsang Foo!" shouted Reynolds. "You don't mean that man was Tsang?" + +With headlong haste he seized the bewildered officer and made him pilot +him below decks. Stumbling down the ladders and through dark passages, +he at last reached the bunk where Tsang Foo lay with the ship's surgeon +and a steward in attendance. + +The Chinaman's lips were drawn tightly back over his prominent teeth, +and his breath came in irregular gasps. Across the pillow in a straight +black line lay his dripping queque. As his eyelids fluttered feebly, the +doctor straightened his own tired back. + +"He'll come round now, all right," he said to the steward. "Give him +those drops and don't talk to him. He's had a close call. I'll be back +in ten minutes." + +Reynolds crowded into the narrow apace the doctor had left. The fact +that he was saved from disgrace was utterly blotted out by the bigger +fact that this ignorant, uncouth, foreign sailor had fearlessly risked +his life to save him from facing a merited punishment. Reynolds's very +soul seemed to grow bigger to accommodate the thought. + +"Tsang!" he whispered, seizing the yellow hand, "You are a brick! Number +one good man. But my no can take money,--I--" + +The steward in attendance, who had stepped aside, made a warning gesture +and laid his finger on his lips. + +For five minutes the man in the bunk and the one beside it looked +silently into each other's eyes, then the drawn lips moved, and +Reynolds, bending his head to listen, heard the broken question: + +"You--no--blake--bargain?" + +Reynolds's mind dashed at two conclusions and recoiled from each. Should +be follow his impulse to explain the whole affair, serious consequences +would result for Tsang, while the other alternative of accepting the +situation made him a party, albeit an innocent one, to a most +reprehensible proceeding. It was to his credit, that of the two courses +the latter was infinitely the more intolerable. He got up nervously, +then sat down again. + +"No--blake--bargain!" repeated Tsang anxiously. + +Still Reynolds waited for some prompting from a conscience unaccustomed +to being rusty. Any course that would involve the loyal little Chinaman, +who had played the game according to the rules as he knew them, was out +of the question. The money must be paid back, of course, but how, and +when? If he cleared himself at the office it might be years before he +could settle this new debt, but he could do it in time, he must do it. +Then at last, light came to him. He would accept Tsang's sacrifice but +it should stand for more than the mere material good it had purchased. +It should pledge him to a fresh start, a clean life. He would justify +the present by the future. He drew a deep breath of relief and leaned +forward: + +"Tsang," he said, and his voice trembled with the earnestness of his +resolve, "I no break bargain. From now on my behave all same proper. It +wasn't right, old fellow, you oughtn't--" then he gave it up and smiled +helplessly, "you belong my good friend Tsang, what thing you wantchee?" + +A slow smile broke the brass-like stillness of Tsang Foo's face: + +"Pipe," he gasped softly, "opium velly good,--make land and sea--all +same--by an' by!" + + + + +THE WILD OATS OF A SPINSTER + + +Judging from appearances Miss Lucinda Perkins was justifying her reason +for being by conforming absolutely to her environment. She apparently +fitted as perfectly into her little niche in the Locustwood Seminary for +young ladies as Miss Joe Hill fitted into hers. The only difference was +that Miss Joe Hill did not confine herself to a niche; she filled the +seminary, as a plump hand does a tight glove. + +It was the year after Miss Lucinda had come to the seminary to teach +elocution that Miss Joe Hill discovered in her an affinity. As +principal, Miss Joe Hill's word was never questioned, and Miss Lucinda, +with pleased obedience, accepted the honor that was thrust upon her, and +meekly moved her few belongings into Miss Joe Hill's apartment. + +For four years they had lived in the rarified atmosphere of celestial +friendship. They clothed their bodies in the same raiment, and their +minds in the same thoughts, and when one was cold the other shivered. + +If Miss Lucinda, in those early days found it difficult to live up to +Miss Joe Hill's transcendental code she gave no sign of it. She laid +aside her mildly adorned garments and enveloped her small angular person +in a garb of sombre severity. Even the modest bird that adorned her hat +was replaced by an uncompromising band. She foreswore meat and became a +vegetarian. She stopped reading novels and devoted her spare time to +essays and biography. In fact she and Miss Joe Hill became one and that +one was Miss Joe Hill. + +It was not until Floss Speckert entered the senior class at Locustwood +Seminary that this sublimated friendship suffered a jar. + +Floss's father lived in Chicago, and it was due to his unerring +discernment in the buying and selling of live stock that Floss was being +"finished" in all branches without regard to the cost. + +"Learn her all you want to," he said magnanimously to Miss Lucinda, who +negotiated the arrangement. "I ain't got but two children, her and Tom. +He's just like me--don't know a blame thing but business; but Floss--" +his bosom swelled under his checked vest--"she's on to it all. I pay for +everything you get into her head. Dancin', singin', French--all them +extries goes." + +Miss Lucinda had consequently undertaken the management of Floss +Speckert, and the result had been far-reaching in its consequences. + +Floss was a person whose thoughts did not dwell upon the highest +development of the spiritual life. Her mind was given over to the +pursuit of worldly amusements, her only serious thought being a burning +ambition to win histrionic honors. The road to this led naturally +through the elocution classes, and Floss accepted Miss Lucinda as the +only means toward the desired end. + +A drop of water in a bottle of ink produces no visible result, but a +drop of ink in a glass of water contaminates it at once. Miss Lucinda +took increasing interest in her frivolous young pupil; she listened +with half-suppressed eagerness to unlimited gossip about stage-land, and +even sank to the regular perusal of certain bold theatrical papers. She +was unmistakably becoming contaminated. + +Meanwhile Miss Joe Hill, quite blind to the situation, condoned the +friendship. "You are developing your own character," she told Miss +Lucinda. "You are exercising self-control and forbearance in dealing +with that crude, undisciplined girl. Florence is the natural outcome of +common stock and newly acquired riches. It is your noble aspiration to +take this vulgar clay and mold it into something higher. Your motive is +laudable, Lucinda; your self-sacrifice in giving up our evening hour +together is heroic. I read you like an open book, dear." + +And Miss Lucinda listened and trembled. They were standing together +before the window of their rigid little sitting room, the chastened +severity of which banished all ideas of comfort. "What purpose do you +serve?" Miss Joe Hill demanded of every article that went into her +apartment, and many of the comforts of life failed to pass the +examination. + +After Miss Joe Hill had gone out, Miss Lucinda remained at the window +and restlessly tapped her knuckles against the sill. The insidious +spring sunshine, the laughter of the girls in the court below, the +foolish happy birds telling their secrets under the new, green leaves, +all worked together to disturb her peace of mind. + +She resolutely turned her back to the window and took breathing +exercises. That was one of Miss Joe Hill's sternest +requirements--fifteen minutes three times a day and two pints of water +between meals. Then she sat down in a straight-back chair and tried to +read "The Power Through Poise." Her body was doing its duty, but it did +not deceive her mind. She knew that she was living a life of black +deception; evidences of her guilt were on every hand. Behind the books +on her little shelf was a paper of chocolate creams; in the music rack, +back to back with Grieg and Brahms, was an impertinent sheet of ragtime +which Floss had persuaded her to learn as an accompaniment. And deeper +and darker and falser than all was a plan which had been fermenting in +her mind for days. + +In a fortnight the school term would be over. Following the usual +custom, Miss Lucinda was to go to her brother in the country and Miss +Joe Hill to her sister for a week. This obligation to their respective +families being discharged, they would repair to the seclusion of a +Catskill farmhouse, there to hang upon each other's souls for the rest +of the summer. + +Miss Lucinda's visits to her brother were reminiscent of a multiplicity +of children and a scarcity of room. To her the Inferno presented no more +disquieting prospect than the necessity of sharing her bedroom. She +always returned from these sojourns in the country with impaired +digestion, and shattered nerves. She looked forward to them with dread +and looked back on them with horror. Was it any wonder that when a +brilliant alternative presented itself she was eager to accept it? + +Floss Speckert had gained her father's consent to spend her first week +out of school in New York provided she could find a suitable chaperon. +She had fallen upon the first and most harmless person in sight and +besieged her with entreaties. + +Miss Lucinda would have flared to the project had not a forbidding +presence loomed between her and the alluring invitation. She knew only +too well that Miss Joe Hill would never countenance the proposition. + +As she sat trying vainly to concentrate on her "Power Through Poise," +she was startled by a noise at the window, followed immediately by a +dishevelled figure that scrambled laughingly over the sill. + +"I came down the fire escape!" whispered the invader breathlessly, "Miss +Joe Hill caught us making fudge in the linen closet, and I gave her the +slip." + +"But Florence!" Miss Lucinda began reproachfully, but Floss interrupted +her: + +"Don't 'Florence' me, Miss Lucy! You're just pretending to be mad +anyhow. You are a perfect darling and Miss Joe Hill is an old bear!" + +Miss Lucinda was aghast at this irreverence but her halting protests +had no effect on the torrent of Floss's eloquence. + +"I am going to take you to New York," the girl declared "and I am going +to give you the time of your life! Dad's got to put us up in style--a +room and a bath apiece and maybe a sitting room. He likes me to splurge +around a bit, says he'd hate to have a daughter that acted like she +wasn't used to money." + +Miss Lucinda glanced apprehensively at the door and then back at the +sparkling face before her. + +"I can't go," she insisted miserably, trying to free her hand from +Floss's plump grasp. "My brother is expecting me and Miss Hill--" + +"Oh, bother Miss Joe Hill! You don't have to tell her anything about it! +You can pretend you are going to your brother's and meet me some place +on the road instead." + +Miss Lucinda looked horrified, but she listened. A material kept plastic +by years of manipulation does not harden to a new hand. Her objections +to Floss's plan grew fainter and fainter. + +"Think of the theaters," went on the temptress, putting an arm around +her neck, and ignoring the fact that caresses embarrassed Miss Lucinda +almost to the point of tears; "think of it! A new show every night, and +operas and pictures. There will be three Shakspere plays that week, +'Merchant of Venice,' 'Twelfth Night,' and 'Hamlet.'" + +Miss Lucinda's heart fluttered in her bosom. Although she had spent a +great part of her life interpreting the Bard of Avon, she had never seen +one of his plays produced. In her secret soul she believed that her own +rendition of "The quality of mercy," was not to be excelled. + +"I--I haven't any clothes," she urged feebly, putting up her last +defense. + +"I have," declared Floss in triumph--"two trunks full, and we are almost +the same size. It's just for a week, Miss Lucy; won't you come?" + +Miss Lucinda, sitting rigid, felt a warm cheek pressed against her own, +and a stray curl touched her lips. She sat for a moment with her eyes +closed. It was more than disconcerting to be so close to youth and joy +and life; it was infectious. The blood surged suddenly through her +veins, and an exultation seized her. + +"I'm going to do it," she cried recklessly; "I never had a real good +time in my life." + +Floss threw her arms about her and waltzed her across the room, but a +step in the hall brought them to a halt. + +"It's Miss Joe Hill," whispered Floss, with trepidation; "I am going out +the way I came. Don't you forget; you have promised." + +When Miss Joe Hill entered, she smiled complacently at finding Miss +Lucinda in the straight-back chair, absorbed in the second volume of the +"Power Through Poise." + +At the Union Depot in Chicago, two weeks later, a small, nervous lady +fluttered uncertainly from one door to another. She wore a short, brown +coat suit of classic severity, and a felt hat which was fastened under +her smoothly braided hair by a narrow elastic band. + +On her fourth trip to the main entrance she stopped a train-boy. "Can +you tell me where I can get a drink?" she asked, fanning her flushed +face. He looked surprised. "Third door to the left," he answered. Miss +Lucinda, carrying a hand-bag, a suit-case, and an umbrella, followed +directions. When she pushed open the heavy door she was confronted by a +long counter with shining glasses and a smiling bartender. Beating a +confused retreat, she fled back to the main entrance, and stood there +trembling. For the hundredth time that day she wished she had not come. + +The arrangements, so glibly planned by Floss, had not been adhered to in +any particular. At the last moment that mercurial young person had +decided to go on two days in advance and visit a friend in Philadelphia. +She wrote Miss Lucinda to come on to Chicago, where Tom would meet her +and give her her ticket, and that she would meet her in New York. + +With many misgivings and grievous twinges of conscience, Miss Lucinda +had bade Miss Joe Hill a guilty farewell, and started ostensibly for her +brother's home. At the Junction she changed cars for Chicago, missed two +connections, and lost her lunch-box. Now that she had arrived In +Chicago, three hours late, nervous and excited over her experiences, +there was no one to meet her. + +A sense of homesickness rushed over her, and she decided to return to +Locustwood. It was the same motive that might prompt a newly hatched +chicken, embarrassed by its sudden liberty, to return to its shell. Just +as she was going in search of a time-table, a round-faced young man came +up. + +"Miss Perkins?" he asked, and when she nodded, he went on: "Been looking +for you for half an hour. Sis told me what you looked like, but I +couldn't find you." He failed to observe that Floss's comparison had +been a squirrel. + +"Isn't it nearly time to start?" asked Miss Lucinda, nervously. + +"Just five minutes; but I want to explain something to you first." He +looked through the papers in his pocket and selected one. "This is a +pass," he explained; "the governor can get them over this road. I got +there late, so I could only get one that had been made out for somebody +else and not been used. It's all right, you know; you won't have a bit +of trouble." + +Miss Lucinda took the bit of paper, put on her glasses, and read, "Mrs. +Lura Doring." + +"Yes," said Tom; "that's the lady it was made out for. Nine chances out +of ten they won't mention it; but if anything comes up, you just say +yes, you are Mrs. Doring, and it will be all right." + +"But," protested Miss Lucinda, ready to weep, "I cannot tell a +falsehood." + +"I don't think you'll have to," said Tom, somewhat impatiently; "but if +you deny it, you'll get us both into no end of a scrape. Hello! there's +the call for your train. I'll bring your bag." + +In the confusion of getting settled in her section, and of expressing +her gratitude to Tom, Miss Lucinda forgot for the time the deadly +weight of guilt that rested upon her. It was not until the conductor +called for her ticket that her heart grew cold, and a look of +consternation swept over her face. It seemed to her that he eyed the +pass suspiciously and when he did not return it a terror seized her. She +knew he was coming back to ask her name, and what was her name? Mrs. +Dora Luring, or Mrs. Dura Loring, or Mrs. Lura Doring? + +In despair she fled to the dressing room and stood there concealed by +the curtains. In a few moments the conductor passed, and she peeped at +his retreating figure. He stopped in the narrow passage by the window +and studied her pass, then he compared it with a telegram which he held +in his hand. Just then the porter joined him, and she flattened herself +against the wall and held her breath. + +"It's the same name," she heard the conductor say in an undertone. "I'll +wire back to headquarters at the next stop." + +If ever retribution followed an erring soul, it followed Miss Lucinda on +that trip. No one spoke to her, and nothing happened, but she sat in +terrified suspense, looking neither to right nor left, her heart beating +frantically at every approach, and the whirring wheels repeating the +questioning refrain, "Dora Luring? Dura Loring? Lura Doring?" + +In New York, Floss met her as she stepped off the train, fairly +enveloping her in her enthusiasm. + +"Here you are, you old darling! I have been having a fit a minute for +fear you wouldn't come. This is my Cousin May. She is going to stay with +us the whole week. New York is simply heavenly, Miss Lucy. We have made +four engagements already. Matinée this afternoon, a dinner +to-night--What's the matter? Did you leave anything on the train?" + +"No, no," stammered Miss Lucinda, still casting furtive glances backward +at the conductor. "Was he talking to a policeman?" she asked +suspiciously. + +"Who?" + +"The conductor." + +The girls laughed. + +"I don't wonder you were scared," said Floss; "a policeman always does +remind me of Miss Joe Hill." + +They called a cab and, to Miss Lucinda's vast relief, were soon rolling +away from the scene of danger. + + * * * * * + +It needed only one glance into a handsome suite of an up-town hotel one +week later to prove the rapid moral deterioration of the prodigal. + +Arrayed in a shell-pink kimono, she was having her nails manicured. Her +gaily figured garment was sufficient in itself to give her an unusual +appearance; but there was a more startling reason. + +Miss Lucinda's hair, hitherto a pale drab smoothly drawn into a braided +coil at the back, had undergone a startling metamorphosis. It was +Floss's suggestion that Miss Lucinda wash it in "Golden Glow," a +preparation guaranteed to restore luster and beauty to faded locks. Miss +Lucinda had been over-zealous, and the result was that of copper in +sunshine. + +These outward manifestations, however, were insignificant compared with +the evidences of Miss Lucinda's inner guilt. She was taking the keenest +interest in the manicure's progress, only lifting her eyes occasionally +to survey herself with satisfaction in the mirror opposite. + +At first her sense of propriety had been deeply offended by her changed +appearance. She wept so bitterly that the girls, seeking to console her, +had overdone the matter. + +"I never thought you _could_ look so pretty," Floss had declared; "you +look ten years younger. It makes your eyes brighter and your skin +clearer. Of course this awfully bright color will wear off, and then it +will be just dear." + +Miss Lucinda began to feel better; she even allowed May to arrange her +changed locks in a modest pompadour. + +The week she had spent in New York was a riotous round of dissipation. +May's fiancé had prepared a whirlwind of pleasures, and Miss Lucinda was +caught up and revolved at a pace that made her dizzy. Dances, dinners, +plays, roof-gardens, coaching parties, were all held together by a line +of candy, telegrams, and roses. + +There was only one time in the day when Miss Lucinda came down to earth. +Every evening, no matter how exhausted she might he from the frivolities +of the day, she conscientiously penned an affectionate letter to her +celestial affinity, expressing her undying devotion, and incidentally +mentioning the health and doings of her brother's family. These she sent +under separate cover to her brother to be mailed. + +Her conscience assured her that the reckoning would come, that sooner or +later she would face the bar of justice and receive the verdict of +guilty; but while one day of grace remained, she would still "in the +fire of spring, her winter garments of repentance fling." + +As the manicure put the finishing touch to her nails, Floss came rushing +in: + +"Hurry up, Miss Lucy dear! Dick Benson has just 'phoned that he is going +to take us for a farewell frolic. We leave here at five, have dinner +somewhere, then do all sorts of stunts. You are going to wear my tan +coat-suit and light blue waist. Yes, you are, too! That's all +foolishness; everybody wears elbow-sleeves. Blue's your color, and I've +got the hat to match. May says she'll fix your hair, and you can wear +her French-heel Oxfords again. They pitch you over? Oh, nonsense! you +just tripped along the other day like a nice little jay-bird. Hurry, +hurry!" + +Even Miss Lucinda's week of strenuous living had not prepared her for +what followed. First, there was a short trip on the train, during which +she conscientiously studied a map. Then followed a dinner at a large and +ostentatious hotel. The decorations were more brilliant, the music +louder, and the dresses gayer, than at any place Miss Lucinda had yet +been. She viewed the passing show through her glasses, and experienced a +pleasant thrill of sophistication. This, she assured herself, was +society; henceforth she was in a position to rail at its follies as one +having authority. + +In the midst of these complacent reflections she choked on a crumb, and, +after groping with closed eyes for her tumbler, gulped down the +contents. A strange, delicious tingle filled her mouth; she forgot she +was choking, and opened her eyes. To her horror, she found that she had +emptied her glass of champagne. + +"Spirituous liquor!" she thought in dismay, as the shade of Miss Joe +Hill rose before her. + +Total abstinence was such a firm plank in the platform of the celestial +affinity that, even in the chafing-dish, alcohol had been tabooed. The +utter iniquity of having deliberately swallowed a glass of champagne was +appalling to Miss Lucinda. She sat silent during the rest of the dinner, +eating little, and plucking nervously at the ruffles about her elbows. +The fear of rheumatism in her wrists which had assailed her earlier in +the evening gave way to a deeper and more disturbing discomfort. + +When the dinner was over, the party started forth on a hilarious round +of sight-seeing. Miss Lucinda limped after them, vaguely aware that she +was in a giant electric cage filled with swarming humanity, that bands +were playing, drums beating, and that at every turn disagreeable men +with loud voices were imploring her to "step this way." + +"Come on!" cried Dick. "We are going on the scenic railway." + +But the worm turned. "I--I'm not going," she protested. "I will wait +here. All of you go; I will wait right here." + +With a sigh of relief she slipped into a vacant corner, and gave herself +up to the luxury of being miserable. She longed for solitude in which to +face the full enormity of her misdeed, and to plan an immediate +reformation. She would throw herself bodily upon the mercy of Miss Joe +Hill, she would spare herself nothing; penance of any kind would be +welcome, bodily pain even-- + +She shifted her weight to the slender support of one high-heeled shoe +while she rested the other foot. Her hair, unused to its new +arrangement, pulled cruelly upon every restraining hair-pin, and her +head was beginning to ache. + +"I deny the slavery of sense. I repudiate the bondage of matter. I +affirm spirit and freedom," she quoted to herself, but the thought +failed to have any effect. + +A two-ringed circus was in progress at her right while at her left a +procession of camels and Egyptians was followed by a noisy crowd of +urchins. People were thronging in every direction, and she realized that +she was occasionally the recipient of a curious glance. She began to +watch rather anxiously for the return of her party. Ten minutes passed, +and still they did not come. + +Suddenly the awful possibility presented itself that they might have +lost her. She had no money, and even with it, she knew she could not +find her way back to the hotel alone. Anxiety gained upon her in leaps. +In bitter remorse she upbraided herself for ever having strayed from the +blessed protection of Miss Joe Hill's authority. Gulfs of hideous +possibility yawned at her feet; imagination faltered at the things that +might befall a lone and unprotected lady in this bedlam of frivolity. + +Just as her fear was turning to terror the party returned. + +"Oh, here you are!" cried Floss. "We thought we had lost you. It was +just dandy, Miss Lucy; you ought to have gone. It makes you feel like +your feet are growing right out of the top of your head. Come on; we are +going to have our tintypes taken." + +Strengthened by the fear of being left alone again, Miss Lucinda rallied +her courage, and once more followed in their wake. She was faint and +exhausted, but the one grain of comfort she extracted from the situation +was that through her present suffering she was atoning for her sins. + +At midnight Dick said: "There's only one other thing to do. It's more +fun than all the rest put together. Come this way." + +Miss Lucinda followed blindly. She had ceased to think; there were only +two realities left in the world, French-heels and hair-pins. + +At the foot of a flight of steps the party paused to buy tickets. + +"You can wait for us here, Miss Lucy," said Floss. + +Miss Lucinda protested eagerly that she was not too tired to go with +them. The prospect of being left alone again nerved her to climb to any +height. + +"But," cried Floss, "if you get up there, there's only one way to come +down. You have to--" + +"Let her come!" interrupted the others in laughing chorus, and, to Miss +Lucinda's great relief, she was allowed to pass through the little gate. + +When she reached the top of the long stairs, she looked about for the +attraction. A wide inclined plane slanted down to the ground floor, and +on it were bumps of various sizes and shapes, all of a shining +smoothness. She had a vague idea that it was a mammoth map for the +blind, until she saw Dick and Floss sit down at the top and go sliding +to the bottom. + +"Come on, Miss Lucinda!" cried May. "You can't get down any other way, +you know. Look out! Here I go!" + +One by one the others followed, and Miss Lucinda could not distinguish +them as they merged in the laughing crowd at the base. + +Delay was fatal; they would lose her again if she hesitated. In +desperation she gathered her skirts about her, and let herself +cautiously down on the floor. For one awful moment terror paralyzed her, +then, grasping her skirts with one hand and her hat with the other and +closing her eyes, she slid. + +Miss Lucinda did not "hump the bumps"; she slid gracefully around them, +describing fanciful curves and loops in her airy flight. When she +arrived in a confused bunch on the cushioned platform below, she was +greeted with a burst of applause. + +"Ain't it great?" cried Floss, straightening Miss Lucinda's hat and +trying to get her to open her eyes. "Dick says you are the gamest +chaperon he ever saw. Sit up and let me pin your collar straight." + +But Miss Lucinda's sense of direction had evidently been disturbed, for +she did not yet know which was up, and which was down. She leaned limply +against Floss and tried to get her breath. + +"Excuse me," said a man's voice above her, "but are either of you +ladies Mrs. Lura Doring?" + +The effect was electrical. Miss Lucinda sat bolt upright and stared +madly about. Tom Speckert had told her to be sure to answer to that +name. It would get him into trouble if she failed to do so. + +"Yes, yes," she gasped; "I am Mrs. Lura Doring." + +The members of her little party looked at her anxiously and ceased to +laugh. The slide had evidently unsettled her mind. + +"Why, this is Miss Perkins--Miss Lucinda Perkins of Locustwood, Ohio," +explained Dick Benson to the officer, "She's rather upset by her +tobogganing, and didn't understand you." + +"I did," declared Miss Lucinda, making mysterious signs to Dick to be +silent. "It's all right; I am Mrs. Doring." + +The officer looked suspiciously from one to the other, then consulted +his memorandum: "Small, slender woman, yellow hair, gray eyes, answers +to name of Mrs. Lura Doring. Left Chicago on June 10." + +"When did she get to New York?" asked the officer. + +"A week ago to-morrow, on the eleventh," said Floss. + +"Then I guess I'll have to take her up," said the officer; "she answers +all the requirements. I've got a warrant for her arrest." + +"Arrest!" gasped Benson. "What for?" + +"For forging her husband's name, and defrauding two hotels in Chicago." + +"My husband--" Miss Lucinda staggered to her feet, then, catching sight +of the crowd that had collected, she gave a fluttering cry and fainted +away in the arms of the law. + + * * * * * + +When Miss Joe Hill arrived in New York, in answer to an urgent telegram, +she went directly to work with her usual executive ability to unravel +the mystery. After obtaining the full facts in the case, she was able to +make a satisfactory explanation to the officers at headquarters. Then +she sent the girls to their respective homes, and turned her full +attention upon Miss Lucinda. + +"The barber will be here in half an hour to cut your hair," she +announced on the eve of their departure for the Catskills. + +"You ought not to be so good to me!" sobbed Miss Lucinda, who was lying +limply on a couch. + +Miss Joe Hill took her hand firmly and said: "Lucinda, error and illness +and disorder are man-made perversions. Let the past week be wiped from +our memories. Once we are in the mountains we will turn the formative +power of our thoughts upon things invisible, and yield ourselves to the +higher harmonies." + +The next morning, Miss Lucinda, shorn and penitent, was led forth from +the scene of her recent profligacy. It was her final exit from a world +which for a little space she had loved not wisely but too well. + + + + +CUPID GOES SLUMMING + + +It is a debatable question whether love is a cause or an effect, whether +Adam discovered a heart in the recesses of his anatomy before or after +the appearance of Eve. In the case of Joe Ridder it was distinctly the +former. + +At nineteen his knowledge of the tender passion consisted of dynamic +impressions received across the footlights at an angle of forty-five +degrees. Love was something that hovered with the calcium light about +beauty in distress, something that brought the hero from the uttermost +parts of the earth to hurl defiance at the villain and clasp the +swooning maiden in his arms; it was something that sent a fellow down +from his perch in the peanut gallery with his head hot and his hands +cold, and a sort of blissful misery rioting in his soul. + +Joe lived in what was known by courtesy as Rear Ninth Street. "Rear +Ninth Street" has a sound of exclusive aristocracy, and the name was a +matter of some pride to the dwellers in the narrow, unpaved alley that +writhed its watery way between two rows of tumble-down cottages, Joe's +family consisted of his father, whose vocation was plumbing, and whose +avocation was driving either in the ambulance or the patrol wagon; his +mother, who had discharged her entire debt to society when she bestowed +nine healthy young citizens upon it; eight young Ridders, and Joe +himself, who had stopped school at twelve to assume the financial +responsibilities of a rapidly increasing family. + +Lack of time and the limited opportunities of Rear Ninth Street, +together with an uncontrollable shyness, had brought Joe to his +nineteenth year of broad-shouldered, muscular manhood, with no +acquaintance whatever among the girls. But where a shrine is built for +Cupid and the tapers are kept burning, the devotee is seldom +disappointed. + +One morning in October, as Joe was guiding his rickety wheel around the +mud puddles on his way to the cooper shops, he saw a new sign on the +first cottage after he left the alley--"Mrs. R. Beaver, Modiste & Dress +Maker." In the yard and on the steps were a confusion of household +effects, and in their midst a girl with a pink shawl over her head. + +So absorbed was Joe in open-mouthed wonder over the "Modiste," that he +failed to see the girl, until a laughing exclamation made him look up. + +"Watch out!" + +"What's the matter?" asked Joe, coming to a halt. + +"I thought maybe you didn't know your wheels was going 'round!" the girl +said audaciously, then fled into the house and slammed the door. + +All day at the shops Joe worked as in a trance. Every iron rivet that he +drove into a wooden hoop was duly informed of the romantic occurrence of +the morning, and as some four thousand rivets are fastened into four +thousand hoops in the course of one day, it will be seen that the matter +was duly considered. The stray spark from a feminine eye had kindled +such a fierce fire in his heart that by the time the six o'clock +whistle blew the conflagration threw a rosy glow over the entire +landscape. + +As he rode home, the girl was sitting on the steps, but she would not +look at him. Joe had formulated a definite course of action, and though +the utter boldness of it nearly cost him his balance, he adhered to it +strictly. When just opposite her gate, without turning his head or his +eyes, he lifted his hat, then rode at a furious pace around the corner. + +"What you tidying up so fer, Joe?" asked his mother that night; "you +goin' out?" + +"No," said Joe evasively, as he endeavoured in vain to coax back the +shine to an old pair of shoes. + +"Well, I'm right glad you ain't. Berney and Dick ain't got up the coal, +and there's all them dishes to wash, and the baby she's got a misery in +her year." + +"Has paw turned up?" asked Joe. + +"Yes," answered Mrs. Ridder indifferently. "He looked in 'bout three +o'clock. He was tolerable full then, and I 'spec he's been took up by +now. He said he was goin' to buy me a bird-cage with a bird in it, but I +surely hope he won't. Them white mice he brought me on his last spree +chewed a hole in Berney's stocking; besides, I never did care much for +birds. Good lands! what are you goin' to wash yer head for?" + +Joe was substituting a basin of water for a small girl in the nearest +kitchen chair, and a howl ensued. + +"Shut up, Lottie!" admonished Mrs. Ridder, "you ain't any too good to +set on the floor. It's a good thing this is pay-day, Joe, for the rent's +due and four of the children's got their feet on the ground. You paid up +the grocery last week, didn't you!" + +Joe nodded a dripping head. + +"Well, I'll jes' git yer money out of yer coat while I think about it," +she went on as she rummaged in his pocket and brought out nine dollars. + +"Leave me a quarter," demanded Joe, gasping beneath his soap-suds. + +"All right," said Mrs. Ridder accommodatingly; "now that Bob and Ike +are gitting fifty cents a day, it ain't so hard to make out. I'll be +gittin' a new dress first thing, you know." + +"I seen one up at the corner!" said Joe. + +"A new dress?" + +"Naw, a dressmaker. She's got out her sign." + +"What's her name?" asked Mrs. Ridder, keen with interest. + +"Mrs. R. Beaver, Modiste," repeated Joe from the sign that floated in +letters of gold in his memory. + +"I knowed a Mrs. Beaver wunst, up on Eleventh Street--a big, fat woman +that got in a fuss with the preacher and smacked his jaws." + +"Did she have any children?" asked Joe. + +"Seems like there was one, a pretty little tow-headed girl." + +"That's her," announced Joe conclusively. "What was her name?" + +"Lawsee, I don't know. I never would 'a' ricollected Mrs. Beaver 'cepten +she was such a tarnashious woman, always a-tearin' up stumps, and never +happy unless she was rippitin' 'bout somethin'. _What_ you want? A +needle and thread to mend your coat? Why, what struck you? You been +wearin' it that a-way for a month. You better leave it be 'til I git +time to fix it." + +But Joe had determined to work out the salvation of his own wardrobe. +Late in the evening after the family had retired, he sat before the +stove with back humped and knees drawn up trying to coax a coarse thread +through a small needle. Surely no rich man need have any fear about +entering the kingdom of heaven since Joe Ridder managed to get that +particular thread through the eye of that particular needle! + +But when a boy is put at a work-bench at twelve years of age and does +the same thing day in and day out for seven long years, he may have lost +all of the things that youth holds dear, but one thing he is apt to have +learned, a dogged, plodding, unquestioning patience that shoves silently +along at the appointed task until the work is done. + +By midnight all the rents were mended and a large new patch adorned +each elbow. The patches, to be sure, were blue, and the coat was black, +but the stitches were set with mechanical regularity. Joe straightened +his aching shoulders and held the garment at arm's length with a smile. +It was his first votive offering at the shrine of love. + +The effect of Joe's efforts were prompt and satisfactory. The next day +being Sunday, he spent the major part of it in passing and repassing the +house on the corner, only going home between times to remove the mud +from his shoes and give an extra brush to his hair. The girl, meanwhile, +was devoting her day to sweeping off the front pavement, a scant three +feet of pathway from her steps to the wooden gate. Every time Joe passed +she looked up and smiled, and every time she smiled Joe suffered all the +symptoms of locomotor ataxia! + +By afternoon his emotional nature had reached the saturation point. +Without any conscious volition on his part, his feet carried him to the +gate and refused to carry him farther. His voice then decided to speak +for itself, and in strange, hollow tones he heard himself saying-- + +"Say, do you wanter go to the show with me?" + +"Sure," said the pink fascinator. "When?" + +"I don't care," said Joe, too much embarrassed to remember the days of +the week. + +"To-morrer night?" prompted the girl. + +"I don't care," said Joe, and the conversation seeming to lauguish, he +moved on. + +After countless eons of time the next night arrived. It found Joe and +his girl cosily squeezed in between two fat women in the gallery of the +People's Theatre. Joe had to sit sideways and double his feet up, but he +would willingly have endured a rack of torture for the privilege of +looking down on that fluffy, blond pompadour under its large bow, and of +receiving the sparkling glances that were flashed up at him from time to +time. + +"I ain't ever gone with a feller that I didn't know his name before!" +she confided before the curtain rose. + +"It's Joe," he said, "Joe Ridder, What's your front name?" + +"Miss Beaver," she said mischievously. "What do you think it is?" + +Joe could not guess. + +"Say," she went on, "I knew who you was all right even if I didn't know +yer name. I seen you over to the hall when they had the boxin' match." + +"The last one?" + +"Yes, when you and Ben Schenk was fightin'. Say, you didn't do a thing +to him!" + +The surest of all antidotes to masculine shyness was not without its +immediate effect. Joe straightened his shoulders and smiled +complacently. + +"Didn't I massacre him?" he said. "That there was a half-Nelson holt I +give him. It put him out of business all right, all right. Say, I never +knowed you was there!" + +"You bet I was," said his companion in honest admiration; "that was when +I got stuck on you!" + +Before he could fully comprehend the significance of this confession, +the curtain rose, and love itself had to make way for the tragic and +absorbing career of "The Widowed Bride." By the end of the third act +Joe's emotions were so wrought upon by the unhappy fate of the heroine, +that he rose abruptly and, muttering something about "gittin' some gum," +fled to the rear. When he returned and squeezed his way back to his seat +he found "Miss Beaver" with red eyes and a dejected mien. + +"What's the matter with you?" he asked banteringly. + +"My shoe hurts me," said Miss Beaver evasively. + +"What you givin' me?" asked Joe, with fine superiority. "These here +kinds of play never hurts my feelin's none. Catch me cryin' at a show!" + +But Miss Beaver was too much moved to recover herself at once. She sat +in limp dejection and surreptitiously dabbed her eyes with her moist +ball of a handkerchief. + +Joe was at a loss to know how to meet the situation until his hand, +quite by chance, touched hers as it lay on the arm of her chair. He +withdrew it as quickly as if he had received an electric shock, but the +next moment, like a lodestone following a magnet, it traveled slowly +back to hers. + +From that time on Joe sat staring straight ahead of him in embarrassed +ecstasy, while Miss Beaver, thus comforted, was able to pass through the +tragic finale of the last act with remarkable composure. + +When the time came to say "Good night" at the Beavers' door, all Joe's +reticence and awkwardness returned. He watched her let herself in and +waited until she lit a candle. Then he found himself out on the pavement +in the dark feeling as if the curtain had gone down on the best show be +had ever seen. Suddenly a side window was raised cautiously and he heard +his name called softly. He had turned the corner, but he went back to +the fence. + +"Say!" whispered the voice at the window, "I forgot to tell you--It's +Mittie." + +The course of true love thus auspiciously started might have flowed on +to blissful fulfilment had it not encountered the inevitable barrier in +the formidable person of Mrs. Beaver. Not that she disapproved of Mittie +receiving attention; on the contrary, it was her oft-repeated boast that +"Mittie had been keepin' company with the boys ever since she was six, +and she 'spected she'd keep right on till she was sixty." It was not +attention in the abstract that she objected to, it was rather the +threatening of "a steady," and that steady, the big, awkward, shy Joe +Ridder. With serpentine wisdom she instituted a counter-attraction. + +Under her skilful manipulation, Ben Schenk, the son of the +saloon-keeper, soon developed into a rival suitor. Ben was engaged at a +down-town pool-room, and wore collars on a weekday without any apparent +discomfort. The style of his garments, together with his easy air of +sophistication, entirely captivated Mrs. Beaver, while Ben on his part +found it increasingly pleasant to lounge in the Beavers' best parlour +chair and recount to a credulous audience the prominent part which he +was taking in all the affairs of the day. + +Matters reached a climax one night when, after some close financing, +Joe Ridder took Mittie to the Skating Rink. An unexpected run on the tin +savings bank at the Ridders' had caused a temporary embarrassment, and +by the closest calculation Joe could do no better than pay for two +entrance-tickets and hire one pair of skates. He therefore found it +necessary to develop a sprained ankle, which grew rapidly worse as they +neared the rink. + +"I don't think you orter skate on it, Joe!" said Mittie sympathetically. + +"Oh, I reckon I kin manage it all O.K.," said Joe. + +"But I ain't agoin' to let you!" she declared with divine authority. "We +can just set down and rubber at the rest of them." + +"Naw, you don't," said Joe; "you kin go on an' skate, and I'll watch +you." + +The arrangement proved entirely satisfactory so long as Mittie paused on +every other round to rest or to get him to adjust a strap, or to hold +her hat, but when Ben Schenk arrived on the scene, the situation was +materially changed. + +It was sufficiently irritating to see Ben go through an exhaustive +exhibition of his accomplishments under the admiring glances of Mittie, +but when he condescended to ask her to skate, and even offered to teach +her some new figures, Joe's irritation rose to ire. In vain he tried to +catch her eye; she was laughing and clinging to Ben and giving all her +attention to his instructions. + +Joe sat sullen and indignant, savagely biting his nails. He would have +parted with everything he had in the world at that moment for three +paltry nickels! + +On and on went the skaters, and on and on went the music, and Joe turned +his face to the wall and doggedly waited. When at last Mittie came to +him flushed and radiant, he had no word of greeting for her. + +"Did you see all the new steps Mr. Ben learnt me?" she asked. + +"Naw," said Joe. + +"Does yer foot hurt you, Joe?" + +"Naw," said Joe. + +Mittie was too versed in masculine moods to press the subject. She +waited until they were out under the starlight in the clear stretch of +common near home. Then she slipped her hand through his arm and said +coaxingly-- + +"Say now, Joe, what you kickin' 'bout?" + +"Him," said Joe comprehensively. + +"Mr. Ben? Why, he's one of our best friends. Maw likes him better'n +anybody I ever kept company with. What have all you fellers got against +him?" + +"He was black marveled at the hall all right," said Joe grimly. + +"What for?" + +"It ain't none of my business to tell what for," said Joe, though his +lips ached to tell what he knew. + +"Maw says all you fellows are jealous 'cause he talks so pretty and +wears such stylish clothes." + +"We might, too, if we got 'em like he done," Joe began, then checked +himself. "Say, Mittie, why don't yer maw like me?" + +"She says you haven't got any school education and don't talk good +grammar." + +"Don't I talk good grammar?" asked Joe anxiously. + +"I don't know," said Mittie; "that's what she says. How long did you go +to school?" + +"Me? Oh, off and on 'bout two year. The old man was always poorly, and +Maw, she had to work out, till me an' the boys done got big enough to +work. 'Fore that I had to stay home and mind the kids. Don't I talk like +other fellers, Mittie?" + +"You talk better than some," said Mittie loyally. + +After he left her, Joe reviewed the matter carefully. He thought of the +few educated people he knew--the boss at the shops, the preacher up on +Twelfth Street, the doctor who sewed up his head after he stopped a +runaway team, even Ben Schenk, who had gone through the eighth grade. +Yes, there was a difference. Being clean and wearing good clothes were +not the only things. + +When he got home, he tiptoed into the front room, and picking his way +around the various beds and pallets, took Berney's school satchel from +the top of the wardrobe. Retracing his steps, he returned to the +kitchen, and with his hat still on and his coat collar turned up, he +began to take an inventory of his mental stock. + +One after another of the dog-eared, grimy books he pondered over, and +one after another he laid aside, with a puzzled, distressed look +deepening in his face. + +"Berney she ain't but fourteen an' she gits on to 'em," he said to +himself; "looks like I orter." + +Once more he seized the nearest book, and with the courage of despair +repeated the sentences again and again to himself. + +"That you, Joe?" asked Mrs. Ridder from the next room an hour later. "I +didn't know you'd come. Yer paw sent word by old man Jackson that he was +at Hank's Exchange way down on Market Street, and fer you to come git +him." + +"It's twelve o'clock," remonstrated Joe. + +"I know it," said Mrs. Ridder, yawning, "but I reckon you better go. The +old man always gits the rheumatiz when he lays out all night, and that +there rheumatiz medicine cost sixty-five cents a bottle!" + +"All right," said Joe with a resignation born of experience, "but don't +you go and put no more of the kids in my bed. Jack and Gus kick the +stuffin' out of me now." + +And with this parting injunction he went wearily out into the night, +giving up his struggle with Minerva, only to begin the next round with +Bacchus. + +The seeds of ambition, though sown late, grew steadily, and Joe became +so desirous of proving worthy of the consideration of Mrs. Beaver that +he took the boss of the shops partially into his confidence. + +"It's a first-rate idea, Joe," said the boss, a big, capable fellow who +had worked his way up from the bottom. "I could move you right along the +line if you had a better education. I have a good offer up in Chicago +next year; if you can get more book sense in your head, I will take you +along." + +"Where can I get it at?" asked Joe, somewhat dubious of his own power +of achievement. + +"Night school," said the boss. "I know a man that teaches in the +Settlement over on Burk Street. I'll put you in there if you like." + +Now, the prospect of going to school to a man who had been head of a +family for seven years, who had been the champion scrapper of the South +End, who was in the midst of a critical love affair, was trebly +humiliating. But Joe was game, and while he determined to keep the +matter as secret as possible, he agreed to the boss's proposition. + +"You're mighty stingy with yourself these days!" said Mittie Beaver one +night a month later, when he stopped on his way to school. + +Joe grinned somewhat foolishly. "I come every evenin'," he said. + +"For 'bout ten minutes," said Mittie, with a toss of her voluminous +pompadour; "there's some wants more'n ten minutes." + +"Ben Schenk?" asked Joe, alert with jealousy. + +"I ain't sayin'," went on Mittie. "What do you do of nights, hang around +the hall?" + +"Naw," said Joe indignantly. "There ain't nobody can say they've sawn +me around the hall sence I've went with you!" + +"Well, where do you go?" + +"I'm trainin'," said Joe evasively. + +"I don't believe you like me as much as you used to," said Mittie +plaintively. + +Joe looked at her dumbly. His one thought from the time he cooked his +own early breakfast, down to the moment when he undressed in the cold +and dropped into his place in bed between Gussie and Dick, was of her. +The love of her made his back stop aching as he bent hour after hour +over the machine; it made all the problems and hard words and new ideas +at night school come straight at last; it made the whole sordid, ugly +day swing round the glorious ten minutes that they spent together in the +twilight. + +"Yes, I like you all right," he said, twisting his big, grease-stained +hands in embarrassment. "You're the onliest girl I ever could care +about. Besides, I couldn't go with no other girl if I wanted to, 'cause +I don't know none." + +Is it small wonder that Ben Schenk's glib protestations, reinforced by +Mrs. Beaver's own zealous approval, should have in time outclassed the +humble Joe? The blow fell just when the second term of night school was +over, and Joe was looking forward to long summer evenings of unlimited +joy. + +He had bought two tickets for a river excursion, and was hurrying into +the Beavers' when he encountered a stolid bulwark in the form of Mrs. +Beaver, whose portly person seemed permanently wedged into the narrow +aperture of the front door. She sat in silent majesty, her hands just +succeeding in clasping each other around her ample waist. Had she closed +her eyes, she might have passed for a placid, amiable person, whose +angles of disposition had also become curves. But Mrs. Beaver did not +close her eyes. She opened them as widely as the geography of her face +would permit, and coldly surveyed Joe Ridder. + +Mrs. Beaver was a born manager; she had managed her husband into an +untimely grave, she had managed her daughter from the hour she was +born, she had dismissed three preachers, induced two women to leave +their husbands, and now dogmatically announced herself arbiter of +fashions and conduct in Rear Ninth Street. + +"No, she can't see you," she said firmly in reply to Joe's question. +"She's going out to a dance party with Mr. Schenk." + +"Where at?" demanded Joe, who still trembled in her presence. + +"Somewheres down town," said Mrs. Beaver, "to a real swell party." + +"He oughtn't to take her to no down-town dance," said Joe, his +indignation getting the better of his shyness. "I don't want her to go, +and I'm going to tell her so." + +"In-deed!" said Mrs. Beaver in scorn. "And what have you got to say +about it? I guess Mr. Schenk's got the right to take her anywhere he +wants to!" + +"What right?" demanded Joe, getting suddenly a bit dizzy. + +"'Cause he's got engaged to her. He's going to give her a real handsome +turquoise ring, fourteen-carat gold." + +"Didn't Mittie send me no word?" faltered Joe. + +"No," said Mrs. Beaver unhesitatingly, though she had in her pocket a +note for him from the unhappy Mittie. + +Joe fumbled for his hat. "I guess I better be goin'," he said, a lump +rising ominously in his throat. He got the gate open and made his way +half dazed around the corner. As he did so, he saw a procession of small +Ridders bearing joyously down upon him. + +"Joe!" shrieked Lottie, arriving first, "Maw says hurry on home; we got +another new baby to our house." + +During the weeks that followed, Rear Ninth Street was greatly thrilled +over the unusual event of a home wedding. The reticence of the groom was +more than made up for by the bulletins of news issued daily by Mrs. +Beaver. To use that worthy lady's own words, "she was in her elements!" +She organised various committees--on decoration, on refreshment, and +even on the bride's trousseau, tactfully permitting each assistant to +contribute in some way to the general grandeur of the occasion. + +"I am going to have this a real showy wedding," she said from her point +of vantage by the parlour window, where she sat like a field-marshal and +issued her orders. "Those paper fringes want to go clean across every +one of the shelves, and you all must make enough paper roses to pin +'round the edges of all the curtains. Ever'thing's got to look gay and +festive." + +"Mittie don't look very gay," ventured one of the assistants. "I seen +her in the kitchen cryin' a minute ago." + +"Mittie's a fool!" announced Mrs. Beaver calmly. "She don't know a good +thing when she sees it! Get them draperies up a little higher in the +middle; I'm going to hang a silver horseshoe on to the loop." + +The wedding night arrived, and the Beaver cottage was filled to +suffocation with the _élite_ of Rear Ninth Street. The guests found it +difficult to circulate freely in the room on account of the elaborate +and aggressive decorations, so they stood in silent rows awaiting the +approaching ceremony. As the appointed hour drew near, and none of the +groom's family arrived, a few whispered comments were exchanged. + +"It's 'most time to begin," whispered the preacher to Mrs. Beaver, whose +keen black eyes had been watching the door with growing impatience. + +"Well, we won't wait on nobody," she said positively, as she rose and +left the room to give the signal. + +In the kitchen she found great consternation: the bride, pale and +dejected in all her finery, sat on the table, all the chairs being in +the parlour. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Mrs. Beaver. + +"He ain't come!" announced one of the women in tragic tones. + +"Ben Schenk ain't here?" asked Mrs. Beaver in accents so awful that her +listeners quaked. "Well, I'll see the reason why!" + +Out into the night she sallied, picking her way around the puddles until +she reached the saloon at the corner. + +"Where's Ben Schenk?" she demanded sternly of the men around the bar. + +There was an ominous silence, broken only by the embarrassed shuffling +of feet. + +Drawing herself up, Mrs. Beaver thumped the counter. + +"Where's he at?" she repeated, glaring at the most embarrassed of the +lot. + +"He don't know where he's at," said the man. "I rickon he cilebrated a +little too much fer the weddin'." + +"Can he stand up?" demanded Mrs. Beaver. + +"Not without starchin'," said the man, and amid the titter that +followed, Mrs. Beaver made her exit. + +On the corner she paused to reconnoitre. Across the street was her gaily +lighted cottage, where all the guests were waiting. She thought of the +ignominy that would follow their abrupt dismissal, she thought of the +refreshments that must be used to-night or never, she thought of the +little bride sitting disconsolate on the kitchen table. + +With a sudden determination she decided to lead a forlorn hope. Facing +about, she marched weightily around to the rear of the saloon and began +laboriously to climb the steps that lead to the hall. At the door she +paused and made a rapid survey of the room until she found what she was +looking for. + +"Joe Ridder!" she called peremptorily. + +Joe, haggard and listless, put down his billiard-cue and came to the +door. + +Five minutes later a breathless figure presented himself at the Beaver +kitchen. He had on a clean shirt and his Sunday clothes, and while he +wore no collar, a clean handkerchief was neatly pinned about his neck. + +"Everybody but the bride and groom come into the parlour," commanded +Mrs. Beaver. "I'm a-going to make a speech, and tell 'em that the bride +has done changed her mind." + +Joe and Mittie, left alone, looked at each other in dazed rapture. She +was the first to recover. + +"Joe!" she cried, moving timidly towards him, "ain't you mad? Do you +still want me?" + +Joe, with both hands entangled in her veil and his feet lost in her +train, looked down at her through swimming eyes. + +"Want yer?" he repeated, and his lips trembled, "gee whiz! I feel like I +done ribbeted a hoop round the hull world!" + +The signal was given for them to enter the parlour, and without further +interruption the ceremony proceeded, if not in exact accordance with the +plans of Mrs. Beaver, at least in obedience to the mandate of a certain +little autocrat who sometimes takes a hand in the affairs of man even in +Rear Ninth Street. + + + + +THE SOUL OF O SANA SAN + + +O Sana San stood in the heart of a joyous world, as much a part of the +radiant, throbbing, irresponsible spring as the golden butterfly which +fluttered in her hand. Through the close-stemmed bamboos she could see +the sparkling river racing away to the Inland Sea, while slow-moving +junks, with their sixfold sails, glided with almost imperceptible motion +toward a far-distant port. From below, across the rice-fields, came the +shouts and laughter of naked bronze babies who played at the water's +edge, and from above, high up on the ferny cliff, a mellow-throated +temple bell answered the call of each vagrant breeze. Far away, shutting +out the strange, big world, the luminous mountains hung in the purple +mists of May. + +And every note of color in the varied landscape, from the purple irises +whose royal reflection stained the water below, to the rosy-tipped +clover at the foot of the hill, was repeated in the kimono and _obi_ of +the child who flitted about in the grasses, catching butterflies in her +long-handled net. + +It was in the days of the Japanese-Russian War, but the constant echo of +the great conflict that sounded around her disturbed her no more than it +did the birds overhead. All day long the bugles sounded from the +parade-grounds, and always and always the soldiers went marching away to +the front. Around the bend in the river were miniature fortifications +where recruits learned to make forts and trenches, and to shoot through +tiny holes in a wall at imaginary Russian troopers. Down in the town +below were long white hospitals where twenty thousand sick and wounded +soldiers lay. No thought of the horror of it came to trouble O Sana San. +The cherry-trees gladly and freely gave up their blossoms to the wind, +and so much the country give up its men for the Emperor. Her father had +marched away, then one brother, then another, and she had held up her +hands and shouted, "Banzai!" and smiled because her mother smiled. +Everything was vague and uncertain, and no imagined catastrophe troubled +her serenity. It was all the will of the Emperor, and it was well. + +Life was a very simple matter to O Sana San. She rose when the sun +climbed over the mountain, bathed her face and hands in the shallow +copper basin in the garden, ate her breakfast of bean-curd and pickled +fish and warm yellow tea. Then she hung the quilts over poles to sun, +dusted the screens, and placed an offering of rice on the steps of the +tiny shrine to Inari, where the little foxes kept guard. These simple +duties being accomplished, she tied a bit of bean-cake in her gaily +colored handkerchief, and stepping into her _geta_, went pattering off +to school. + +It was an English school, where she sat with hands folded through the +long mornings, passively permitting the lessons to filter through her +brain, and listening in smiling patience while the kind foreign ladies +spoke incomprehensible things. Sometimes she helped pass the hours by +watching the shadows of the dancing leaves outside; sometimes she told +herself stories about "The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees to Blossom," +or about "Momotaro, the Little Peach Boy." Again she would repeat the +strange English words and phrases that she heard, and would puzzle out +their meaning. + +But the sum of her lore consisted in being happy; and when the shadow of +the mountains began to slip across the valley, she would dance back +along the homeward way, singing with the birds, laughing with the +rippling water, and adding her share of brightness to the sunshine of +the world. + +As she stood on this particular morning with her net poised over a +butterfly, she heard the tramping of many feet. A slow cavalcade was +coming around the road,--a long line of coolies bearing bamboo +stretchers,--and in the rear, in a jinrikisha, was a foreign man with a +red cross on his sleeve. + +O Sana San scrambled up the bank and watched with smiling curiosity as +the men halted to rest. On the stretcher nearest her lay a young +Russian prisoner with the fair skin and blond hair that are so +unfamiliar to Japanese eyes. His blanket was drawn tight around his +shoulders, and he lay very still, with lips set, gazing straight up +through the bamboo leaves to the blue beyond. + +Then it was that O Sana San, gazing in frank inquisitiveness at the +soldier, saw a strange thing happen. A tear formed on his lashes and +trickled slowly across his temple; then another and another, until they +formed a tiny rivulet. More and more curious, she drew yet nearer, and +watched the tears creep unheeded down the man's face. She was sure he +was not crying, because soldiers never cry; it could not be the pain, +because his face was very smooth and calm. What made the tears drop, +drop on the hard pillow, and why did he not brush them away? + +A vague trouble dawned in the breast of O Sana San. Running back to the +field, she gathered a handful of wild flowers and returned to the +soldier. The tears no longer fell, but his lips quivered and his face +was distorted with pain. She looked about her in dismay. The coolies +were down by the river, drinking from their hands and calling to one +another; the only person to whom she could appeal was the foreigner with +the red cross on his arm who was adjusting a bandage for a patient at +the end of the line. + +With halting steps and many misgivings, she timidly made her way to his +side; then placing her hands on her knees, she bowed low before him. The +embarrassment of speaking to a stranger and a foreigner almost +overwhelmed her, but she mustered her bravest array of English, and +pointing to the stretcher, faltered out her message: + +"Soldier not happy very much is. I sink soldier heart sorry." + +The Red Cross orderly looked up from his work, and his eyes followed her +gesture. + +"He is hurt bad," he said shortly; "no legs, no arms." + +"_So--deska_?" she said politely, then repeated his words in puzzled +incomprehension: "Nowarms? Nowarms?" + +When she returned to the soldier she gathered up the flowers which she +had dropped by the wayside, and timidly offered them to him. For a long +moment she waited, then her smile faded mid her hand dropped. With a +child's quick sensitiveness to rebuff, she was turning away when an +exclamation recalled her. + +The prisoner was looking at her in a strange, distressed way; his +deep-set gray eyes glanced down first at one bandaged shoulder, then at +the other, then he shook his head. + +As O Sana San followed his glance, a startled look of comprehension +sprang into her face. "Nowarms!" she repeated softly as the meaning +dawned upon her, then with a little cry of sympathy she ran forward and +gently laid her flowers on his breast. + +The cavalcade moved on, under the warm spring sun, over the smooth white +road, under the arching cryptomerias; but little O Sana Sun stood with +her butterfly net over her shoulder and watched it with troubled eyes. +A dreadful something was stirring in her breast, something clutched at +her throat, and she no longer saw the sunshine and the flowers. Kneeling +by the roadside, she loosened the little basket which was tied to her +_obi_ and gently lifted the lid. Slowly at first, and then with eager +wings, a dozen captive butterflies fluttered back to freedom. + + * * * * * + +Along the banks of the Upper Flowing River, in a rudely improvised +hospital, lay the wounded Russian prisoners. To one of the small rooms +at the end of the ward reserved for fatally wounded patients a +self-appointed nurse came daily, and rendered her tiny service in the +only way she knew. + +O Sana San's heart had been so wrought upon by the sad plight of her +soldier friend that she had begged to be taken to see him and to be +allowed to carry him flowers with her own hand. Her mother, in whom +smoldered the fires of dead samurai, was quick to be gracious to a +fallen foe, and it was with her consent that O Sana San went day after +day to the hospital. + +The nurses humored her childish whim, thinking each day would be the +last; but as the days grew into weeks and the weeks into months, her +visits became a matter of course. + +And the young Russian, lying on his rack of pain, learned to watch for +her coming as the one hour of brightness in an interminable night of +gloom. He made a sort of sun-dial of the cracks in the floor, and when +the shadows reached a certain spot his tired eyes grew eager, and he +turned his head to listen for the patter of the little _tabi_ that was +sure to sound along the hall. + +Sometimes she would bring her picture-books and read him wonderful +stories in words he did not understand, and show him the pictures of +Momotaro, who was born out of a peach and who grew up to be so strong +and brave that he went to the Ogres' Island and carried off all their +treasures,--caps and coats that made their wearers invisible, jewels +which made the tide come or go, coral and amber and tortoise-shell,--and +all these things the little Peach Boy took back to his kind old foster +mother and father, and they all lived happily forever after. And in the +telling O Sana Man's voice would thrill, and her almond eyes grow +bright, while her slender brown finger pointed out the figures on the +gaily colored pages. + +Sometimes she would sing to him, in soft minor strains, of the beauty of +the snow on the pine-trees, or the wonders of Fuji-San. + +And he would pucker his white lips and try to whistle the accompaniment, +to her great amusement and delight. + +Many were the treasures she brought forth from the depths of her long +sleeves, and many were the devices she contrived to amuse him. The most +ambitious achievement was a miniature garden in a wooden box--a +wonderful garden where grasses stood for tall bamboo, and a saucer of +water, surrounded by moss and pebbles, made a shining lake across which +a bridge led through a _torii_ to a diminutive shrine above. + +He would watch her deft fingers fashioning the minute objects, and +listen to her endless prattle in her soft, unknown tongue, and for a +little space the pain-racked body would relax and the cruel furrows +vanish from between his brows. + +But there were days in which the story and the song and the play had no +part. At such times O Sana San slipped in on tiptoe and took her place +at the head of the cot where he could not see her. Sitting on her heels, +with hand folded in hand, she watched patiently for hours, alert to +adjust the covers or smooth the pillow, but turning her eyes away when +the spasms of pain contorted his face. All the latent maternity in the +child rose to succor his helplessness. The same instinct that had +prompted her to strap her doll upon her back when yet a mere baby +herself, made her accept the burden of his suffering, and mother him +with a very passion of tenderness. + +Longer and sultrier grew the days; the wistaria, hanging in feathery +festoons from many a trellis, gave way to the flaming azalea, and the +azalea in turn vanished with the coming of the lotus that floated +sleepily in the old castle moat. + +Still the soul of the young Russian was held a prisoner in his shattered +body, and the spirit in him grew restive at the delay. Months passed +before the doctor told him his release was at hand. It was early in the +morning, and the sun fell in long, level rays across his cot. He turned +his head and looked wistfully at the distance it would have to travel +before it would be afternoon. + +The nurse brought the screen and placed it about the bed--the last +service she could render. For hours the end was expected, but moment by +moment he held death at bay, refusing to accept the freedom that he so +earnestly longed for. At noon the sky became overcast and the slow +falling of rain was heard on the low wooden roof. But still his fervent +eyes watched the sun-dial. + +At last the sound of _geta_ was heard without, and in a moment O Sana +San slipped past the screen and dropped on her knees beside him. Under +one arm was tightly held a small white kitten, her final offering at the +shrine of love. + +When he saw her quaint little figure, a look of peace came over his face +and he closed his eyes. An interpreter, knowing that a prisoner was +about to die, came to the bedside and asked if he wanted to leave any +message. He stirred slightly then, in a scarcely audible voice, asked in +Russian what the Japanese word was for "good-by." A long pause followed, +during which the spirit seemed to hover irresolute upon the brink of +eternity. + +O Sana San sat motionless, her lips parted, her face full of the awe and +mystery of death. Presently he stirred and turned his head slowly until +his eyes were on a level with her own. + +"_Sayonara_," he whispered faintly, and tried to smile; and O Sana San, +summoning all her courage to restrain the tears, smiled bravely back and +whispered, "Sayonara." + +It was scarcely said before the spirit of the prisoner started forth +upon his final journey, but he went not alone. The soul of a child went +with him, leaving in its place the tender, newborn soul of a woman. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories +by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MINK'S SOLDIER *** + +***** This file should be named 15230-8.txt or 15230-8.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/2/3/15230/ + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, Josephine +Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + +Release Date: March 2, 2005 [EBook #15230] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MINK'S SOLDIER *** + + + + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, Josephine +Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + + + + + +</pre> + + + +<div class="text"> +<div class="front"> + + +<div> +<h2>Miss Mink's Soldier And Other Stories</h2> + +<p>By</p> + +<p>Alice Hegan Rice</p> + +<p>Author of "Mrs. Wiggs Of The Cabbage Patch," +"Mr. Opp," "Calvary Alley," Etc.</p> + +<p>New York<br> +The Century Co.</p> +</div> + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> + +<p style="text-align: center"> +<img src="images/image01.png" alt="Then Miss Mink received a shock"></p> +<p style="text-align: center">Then Miss Mink received a shock</p> +</div> + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> + +<p style="text-align: center">To</p> +<p style="text-align: center">THE LADY OF THE DECORATION</p> +<p style="text-align: center">A Memento Of Many Happy Days<br> +Spent Together "East Of Suez"</p> + +</div> + +<hr class="page"> + +<div class="div" id="toc"><a name="toc_1"></a><h2>Contents</h2><ul class="toc"> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_1">Contents</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_2">Miss Mink's Soldier</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_3">A Darling Of Misfortune</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_4">"Pop"</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_5">Hoodooed</a></li> + +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_6">A Matter Of Friendship</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_7">The Wild Oats Of A Spinster</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_8">Cupid Goes Slumming</a></li> +<li style="margin: 0em 0em;"><a href="#toc_9">The Soul Of O Sana San</a></li> +</ul></div> +</div> + +<div class="body"> + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_2"></a> + +<h2>Miss Mink's Soldier</h2> + + +<p>Miss Mink sat in church with lips compressed +and hands tightly clasped in her +black alpaca lap, and stubbornly refused to comply +with the request that was being made from +the pulpit. She was a small desiccated person, +with a sharp chin and a sharper nose, and narrow +faded eyes that through the making of innumerable +buttonholes had come to resemble +them.</p> + +<p>For over forty years she had sat in that same +pew facing that same minister, regarding him +second only to his Maker, and striving in +thought and deed to follow his precepts. But +the time had come when Miss Mink's blind +allegiance wavered.</p> + +<p>Ever since the establishment of the big Cantonment +near the city, Dr. Morris, in order to +encourage church attendance, had been insistent +in his request that every member of his congregation + +should take a soldier home to Sunday +dinner.</p> + +<p>Now it was no lack of patriotism that made +Miss Mink refuse to do her part. Every ripple +in the small flag that fluttered over her humble +dwelling sent a corresponding ripple along her +spinal column. When she essayed to sing "My +Country, 'Tis of Thee," in her high, quavering +soprano, she invariably broke down from sheer +excess of emotion. But the American army +fighting for right and freedom in France, and +the Army individually tracking mud into her +spotless cottage, were two very different things. +Miss Mink had always regarded a man in her +house much as she regarded a gnat in her eye. +There was but one course to pursue in either +case—elimination!</p> + +<p>But her firm stand in the matter had not been +maintained without much misgiving. Every +Sunday when Dr. Morris made his earnest appeal, +something within urged her to comply. +She was like an automobile that gets cranked +up and then refuses to go. Church-going instead +of being her greatest joy came to be a + +nightmare. She no longer lingered in the vestibule, +for those highly cherished exchanges of +inoffensive gossip that constituted her social +life. Nobody seemed to have time for her. +Every one was busy with a soldier. Within +the sanctuary it was no better. Each khaki-clad +figure that dotted the congregation claimed her +attention as a possible candidate for hospitality. +And each one that presented himself to her +vision was indignantly repudiated. One was +too old, another too young, one too stylish, another +had forgotten to wash his ears. She +found a dozen excuses for withholding her invitation.</p> + +<p>But this morning as she sat upright and uncompromising +in her short pew, she was suddenly +thrown into a state of agitation by the +appearance in the aisle of an un-ushered soldier +who, after hesitating beside one or two +pews, slipped into the seat beside her. It +seemed almost as if Providence had taken a +hand and since she had refused to select a soldier, +had prompted a soldier to select her.</p> + +<p>During the service she sat gazing straight at + +the minister without comprehending a word +that he said. Never once did her glance stray +to that khaki-clad figure beside her, but her +thoughts played around him like lightning. +What if she should get up her courage and ask +him to dinner, how would she ever be able to +walk out the street with him! And once she +had got him to her cottage, what on earth would +she talk to him about? Her hands grew cold as +she thought about it. Yet something warned +her it was now or never, and that it was only by +taking the hated step and getting it over with, +that she could regain the peace of mind that had +of late deserted her.</p> + +<p>The Doxology found her weakening, but the +Benediction stiffened her resolve, and when the +final Amen sounded, she turned blindly to the +man beside her, and said, hardly above her +breath:</p> + +<p>"If you ain't got any place to go to dinner, +you can come home with me."</p> + +<p>The tall figure turned toward her, and a pair +of melancholy brown eyes looked down into +hers:</p> + + +<p>"You will excuse if I do not quite comprehend +your meaning," he said politely, with a +strong foreign accent.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink was plunged into instant panic; +suppose he was a German? Suppose she +should be convicted for entertaining a spy! +Then she remembered his uniform and was +slightly reassured.</p> + +<p>"I said would you come home to dinner with +me?" she repeated weakly, with a fervent +prayer that he would decline.</p> + +<p>But the soldier had no such intention. He +bowed gravely, and picked up his hat and overcoat.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink, looking like a small tug towing a +big steamer, shamefacedly made her way to the +nearest exit, and got him out through the Sunday-school +room. She would take him home +through a side street, feed him and send him +away as soon as possible. It was a horrible +ordeal, but Miss Mink was not one to turn back +once she had faced a difficult situation. As they +passed down the broad steps into the brilliant +October sunshine, she noticed with relief that + +his shoes were not muddy. Then, before she +could make other observations, her mind was +entirely preoccupied with a large, firm hand +that grasped her elbow, and seemed to half lift +her slight weight from step to step. Miss +Mink's elbow was not used to such treatment +and it indignantly freed itself before the pavement +was reached. The first square was traveled +in embarrassed silence, then Miss Mink +made a heroic effort to break the ice:</p> + +<p>"My name is Mink," she said, "Miss Libby +Mink. I do dress-making over on Sixth Street."</p> + +<p>"I am Bowinski," volunteered her tall companion, +"first name Alexis. I am a machinist +before I enlist in the army."</p> + +<p>"I knew you were some sort of a Dago," said +Miss Mink.</p> + +<p>"But no, Madame, I am Russian. My home +is in Kiev in Ukrania."</p> + +<p>"Why on earth didn't you stay there?" Miss +Mink asked from the depths of her heart.</p> + +<p>The soldier looked at her earnestly. "Because +of the persecution," he said. "My father +he was in exile. His family was suspect. I + +come alone to America when I am but fifteen."</p> + +<p>"Well I guess you're sorry enough now that +you came," Miss Mink said, "Now that you've +got drafted."</p> + +<p>They had reached her gate by this time, but +Bowinski paused before entering: "Madame +mistakes!" he said with dignity. "I was <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">not</span> +drafted. The day America enter the war, +that day I give up my job I have held for five +years, and enlist. America is my country, she +take me in when I have nowhere to go. It is +my proud moment when I fight for her!"</p> + +<p>Then it was that Miss Mink took her first real +look at him, and if it was a longer look than she +had ever before bestowed upon man, we must +put it down to the fact that he was well worth +looking at, with his tall square figure, and his +serious dark face lit up at the present with a +somewhat indignant enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink pushed open the gate and led the +way into her narrow yard. She usually entered +the house by way of the side door which +opened into the dining room, which was also her +bedroom by night, and her sewing room by day. + +But this morning, after a moment's hesitation, +she turned a key in the rusty lock of the front +door, and let a flood of sunshine dispel the +gloom of the room. The parlor had been furnished +by Miss Mink's parents some sixty years +ago, and nothing had been changed. A customer +had once suggested that if the sofa was +taken away from the window, and the table +put in its place, the room would be lighter. +Miss Mink had regarded the proposition as +preposterous. One might as well have asked +her to move her nose around to the back of her +head, or to exchange the positions of her eyes +and ears!</p> + +<p>You have seen a drop of water caught in a +crystal? Well, that was what Miss Mink was +like. She moved in the tiniest possible groove +with her home at one end and her church at the +other. Is it any wonder that when she beheld a +strange young foreigner sitting stiffly on her +parlor sofa, and realized that she must entertain +him for at least an hour, that panic seized her?</p> + +<p>"I better be seeing to dinner," she said + +hastily. "You can look at the album till I get +things dished up."</p> + +<p>Private Bowinski, surnamed Alexis, sat with +knees awkwardly hunched and obediently +turned the leaves of the large album, politely +scanning the placid countenances of departed +Minks for several generations.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink, moving about in the inner room, +glanced in at him from time to time. After +the first glance she went to the small store room +and got out a jar of sweet pickle, and after the +second she produced a glass of crab apple jelly. +Serving a soldier guest who had voluntarily +adopted her country, was after all not so distasteful, +if only she did not have to talk to him. +But already the coming ordeal was casting its +baleful shadow.</p> + +<p>When they were seated opposite one another +at the small table, her worst fears were realized. +They could neither of them think of anything to +say. If she made a move to pass the bread to +him he insisted upon passing it to her. When +she rose to serve him, he rose to serve her. She + +had never realized before how oppressive excessive +politeness could be.</p> + +<p>The one point of consolation for her lay in the +fact that he was enjoying his dinner. He ate +with a relish that would have flattered any +hostess. Sometimes when he put his knife in +his mouth she winced with apprehension, but +aside from a few such lapses in etiquette he +conducted himself with solemn and punctilious +propriety.</p> + +<p>When he had finished his second slice of pie, +and pushed back his chair, Miss Mink waited +hopefully for him to say good-bye. He was evidently +getting out his car fare now, searching +with thumb and forefinger in his vest +pocket.</p> + +<p>"If it is not to trouble you more, may I ask +a match?" he said.</p> + +<p>"A match? What on earth do you want with +a match?" demanded Miss Mink. Then a look +of apprehension swept over her face. Was this +young man actually proposing to profane the +virgin air of her domicile with the fumes of tobacco?</p> + + +<p>"Perhaps you do not like that I should +smoke?" Bowinski said instantly. "I beg you +excuse, I—"</p> + +<p>"Oh! that's all right," said Miss Mink in a +tone that she did not recognize as her own, "the +matches are in that little bisque figure on the +parlor mantel. I'll get you to leave the front +door open, if you don't mind. It's kinder hot in +here."</p> + +<p>Five o'clock that afternoon found Miss Mink +and Alexis Bowinski still sitting facing each +other in the front parlor. They were mutually +exhausted, and conversation after having suffered +innumerable relapses, seemed about to +succumb.</p> + +<p>"If there's any place else you want to go, you +mustn't feel that you've got to stay here," Miss +Mink had urged some time after dinner. But +Alexis had answered:</p> + +<p>"I know only two place. The Camp and the +railway depot. I go on last Sunday to the railway +depot. The Chaplain at the Camp advise +me I go to church this morning. Perhaps I +make a friend."</p> + + +<p>"But what do the other soldiers do on Sunday?" +Miss Mink asked desperately.</p> + +<p>"They promenade. Always promenade. Except +they go to photo-plays, and dance hall. It +is the hard part of war, the waiting part."</p> + +<p>Miss Mink agreed with him perfectly as she +helped him wait. She had never spent such a +long day in her life. At a quarter past five +he rose to go. A skillful word on her part +would have expedited matters, but Miss +Mink was not versed in the social trick of +speeding a departing guest. Fifteen minutes +dragged their weary length even after he was +on his feet. Then Miss Mink received a shock +from which it took her an even longer time to +recover. Alexis Bowinski, having at last arrived +at the moment of departure, took her hand +in his and, bowing awkwardly, raised it to his +lips and kissed it! Then he backed out of the +cottage, stalked into the twilight and was soon +lost to sight beyond the hedge.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink sank limply on the sofa by the window, +and regarded her small wrinkled hand +with stern surprise. It was a hand that had + +never been kissed before and it was tingling +in the strangest and most unaccountable manner.</p> + +<p>The following week was lived in the afterglow +of that eventful Sunday. She described +the soldier's visit in detail to the few customers +who came in. She went early to prayer-meeting +in order to tell about it. And in the telling +she subordinated everything to the dramatic climax:</p> + +<p>"I never was so took back in my life!" she +said. "After setting there for four mortal +hours with nothing to say, just boring each +other to death, for him to get up like that and +make a regular play-actor bow, and kiss my +hand! Well, I never <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">was</span> so took back!"</p> + +<p>And judging from the number of times Miss +Mink told the story, and the conscious smile with +which she concluded it, it was evident that she +was not averse to being "took back."</p> + +<p>By the time Sunday arrived she had worked +herself up to quite a state of excitement. +Would Bowinski he at church? Would he sit +on her side of the congregation? Would he + +wait after the service to speak to her? She put +on her best bonnet, which was usually reserved +for funerals, and pinned a bit of thread lace +over the shabby collar of her coat.</p> + +<p>The moment she entered church all doubts +were dispelled. There in her pew, quite as if +he belonged there, sat the tall young Russian. +He even stepped into the aisle for her to pass +in, helped her off with her coat, and found the +place for her in the hymn-book. Miss Mink realized +with a glow of satisfaction, that many curious +heads were craning in her direction. For +the first time since she had gone forward forty +years ago to confess her faith, she was an object +of interest to the congregation!</p> + +<p>When the benediction was pronounced several +women came forward ostensibly to speak +to her, but in reality to ask Bowinski to go home +to dinner with them. She waived them all +aside.</p> + +<p>"No, he's going with me!" she announced +firmly, and Bowinski obediently picked up his +hat and accompanied her.</p> + +<p>For the following month this scene was enacted + +each Sunday, with little change to outward +appearances but with great change to +Miss Mink herself. In the mothering of Bowinski +she had found the great adventure of her +life. She mended his clothes, and made fancy +dishes for him, she knit him everything that +could be knitted, including an aviator's helmet +for which he had no possible use. She talked +about "my soldier" to any one who would +listen.</p> + +<p>Bowinski accepted her attention with grave +politeness. He wore the things she made for +him, he ate the things she cooked for him, he +answered all her questions and kissed her hand +at parting. Miss Mink considered his behavior +perfect.</p> + +<p>One snowy Sunday in late November Miss +Mink was thrown into a panic by his failure +to appear on Sunday morning. She confided +to Sister Bacon in the adjoining pew that she +was afraid he had been sent to France. Sister +Bacon promptly whispered to her husband that +he <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">had</span> been sent to France, and the rumor +spread until after church quite a little group + +gathered around Miss Mink to hear about it.</p> + +<p>"What was his company?" some one asked.</p> + +<p>"Company C, 47th Infantry," Miss Mink +repeated importantly.</p> + +<p>"Why, that's my boy's company," said Mrs. +Bacon. "<span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">They</span> haven't gone to France."</p> + +<p>The thought of her soldier being in the +trenches even, was more tolerable to Miss Mink +than the thought of his being in town and +failing to come to her for Sunday dinner.</p> + +<p>"I bet he's sick," she announced. "I wish +I could find out."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Bacon volunteered to ask her Jim about +him, and three days later stopped by Miss +Mink's cottage to tell her that Bowinski had +broken his leg over a week before and was in +the Base Hospital.</p> + +<p>"Can anybody go out there that wants to?" +demanded Miss Mink.</p> + +<p>"Yes, on Sundays and Wednesdays. But +you can't count on the cars running to-day. Jim +says everything's snowed under two feet deep."</p> + +<p>Miss Mink held her own counsel but she knew +what she was going to do. Her soldier was + +in trouble, he had no family or friends. She +was going to him.</p> + +<p>With trembling fingers she packed a small +basket with some apples, a jar of jelly and a +slice of cake. There was no time for her own +lunch, so she hurriedly put on her coat and +twisting a faded scarf about her neck trudged +out into the blustery afternoon.</p> + +<p>The blizzard of the day before had almost +suspended traffic, and when she finally succeeded +in getting a car, it was only to find that +it ran no farther than the city limits.</p> + +<p>"How much farther is it to the Camp?" Miss +Mink asked desperately.</p> + +<p>"About a mile," said the conductor. "I +wouldn't try it if I was you, the walking's +fierce."</p> + +<p>But Miss Mink was not to be turned back. +Gathering her skirts as high as her sense of +propriety would permit, and grasping her basket +she set bravely forth. The trip alone to the +Camp, under the most auspicious circumstances, +would have been a trying ordeal for her, but under +the existing conditions it required nothing + +less than heroism. The snow had drifted in +places as high as her knees, and again and again +she stumbled and almost lost her footing as she +staggered forward against the force of the icy +wind.</p> + +<p>Before she had gone half a mile she was ready +to collapse with nervousness and exhaustion.</p> + +<p>"Looks like I just can't make it," she whimpered, +"and yet I'm going to!"</p> + +<p>The honk of an automobile sent her shying +into a snowdrift, and when she caught her +breath and turned around she saw that the machine +had stopped and a hand was beckoning to +her from the window.</p> + +<p>"May I give you a lift?" asked a girl's high +sweet voice and, looking up, she saw a sparkling +face smiling down at her over an upturned fur +collar.</p> + +<p>Without waiting to be urged she climbed into +the machine, stumbled over the rug, and sank +exhausted on the cushions.</p> + +<p>"Give me your basket," commanded the +young lady. "Now put your feet on the heater. +Sure you have room?"</p> + + +<p>Miss Mink, still breathless, nodded emphatically.</p> + +<p>"It's a shame to ask anyone to ride when I'm +so cluttered up," continued the girl gaily. +"I'm taking these things out to my sick soldier +boys."</p> + +<p>Miss Mink, looking down, saw that the floor of +the machine was covered with boxes and baskets.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to the Hospital, too," she said.</p> + +<p>"That's good!" exclaimed the girl. "I can +take you all the way. Perhaps you have a son +or a grandson out there?"</p> + +<p>Miss Mink winced. "No, he ain't any kin to +me," she said, "but I been sort of looking after +him."</p> + +<p>"How sweet of you!" said the pouting red +lips with embarrassing ardor. "Just think of +your walking out here this awful day at your +age. Quite sure you are getting warm?"</p> + +<p>Yes, Miss Mink was warm, but she felt suddenly +old, old and shrivelled beside this radiant +young thing.</p> + +<p>"I perfectly adore going to the hospital," said + +the girl, her blue eyes dancing. "Father's one +of the medical directors, Major Chalmers, I expect +you've heard of him. I'm Lois Chalmers."</p> + +<p>But Miss Mink was scarcely listening. She +was comparing the big luscious looking oranges +in the crate, with the hard little apples in her +own basket.</p> + +<p>"Here we are!" cried Lois, as the car plowed +through the snow and mud and stopped in front +of a long shed-like building. Two orderlies +sprang forward with smiling alacrity and began +unloading the boxes.</p> + +<p>"Aren't you the nicest ever?" cried Lois with +a skillful smile that embraced them both. +"Those to the medical, those to the surgical, +and these to my little fat-faced Mumpsies."</p> + +<p>Miss Mink got herself and her basket out unassisted, +then stood in doubt as to what she +should do next. She wanted to thank Miss +Chalmers for her courtesy, but two dapper +young officers had joined the group around her +making a circle of masculine admirers.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink slipped away unnoticed and presented + +herself at the door marked "Administration +Building."</p> + +<p>"Can you tell me where the broken-legged +soldiers are?" she asked timidly of a man at a +desk.</p> + +<p>"Who do you want to see?"</p> + +<p>"Alexis Bowinski. He come from Russia. +He's got curly hair and big sort of sad eyes, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Bowinski," the man repeated, running his +finger down a ledger, "A. Bowinski, Surgical +Ward 5-C. Through that door, two corridors +to the right midway down the second corridor."</p> + +<p>Miss Mink started boldly forth to follow directions, +but it was not until she had been ejected +from the X-ray Room, the Mess Hall, and the +Officers' Quarters, that she succeeded in reaching +her destination. By that time her courage +was at its lowest ebb. On either side of the +long wards were cots, on which lay men in various +stages of undress. Now Miss Mink had +seen pajamas in shop windows, she had even +made a pair once of silk for an ambitious groom, + +but this was the first time she had ever seen +them, as it were, occupied.</p> + +<p>So acute was her embarrassment that she +might have turned back at the last moment, had +her eyes not fallen on the cot nearest the door. +There, lying asleep, with his injured leg suspended +from a pulley from which depended two +heavy weights, lay Bowinski.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink slipped into the chair between his +cot and the wall. After the first glance at his +pale unshaven face and the pain-lined brow, she +forgot all about herself. She felt only overwhelming +pity for him, and indignation at the +treatment to which he was being subjected.</p> + +<p>By and by he stirred and opened his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Oh you came!" he said, "I mean you not to +know I be in hospital. You must have the kindness +not to trouble about me."</p> + +<p>"Trouble nothing," said Miss Mink, husky +with emotion, "I never knew a thing about it until +to-day. What have they got you harnessed +up like this for?"</p> + +<p>Then Alexis with difficulty found the English +words to tell her how his leg had not set straight, + +had been re-broken and was now being forced +into proper position.</p> + +<p>"It is like hell, Madame," he concluded with +a trembling lip, then he drew a sharp breath, +"But no, I forget, I am in the army. I beg you +excuse my complain."</p> + +<p>Miss Mink laid herself out to entertain him. +She unpacked her basket, and spread her meagre +offerings before him. She described in detail +all the surgical operations she had ever had any +experience with, following some to their direst +consequences. Alexis listened apathetically. +Now and then a spasm of pain contracted his +face, but he uttered no word of complaint.</p> + +<p>Only once during the afternoon did his eyes +brighten. Miss Mink caught the sudden change +in his expression and, following his glance, saw +Lois Chalmers coming through the ward. She +had thrown aside her heavy fur coat, and her +slim graceful little figure as alert as a bird's +darted from cart to cot as she tossed packages +of cigarettes to right and left.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, Mr. Whiskers!" she was calling +out gaily to one. "This is for you, Colonel + +Collar Bone. Where's Cadet Limpy? Discharged? +Good for him! Hello, Mr. Strong +Man!" For a moment she poised at the foot of +Bowinski's cot, then recognizing Miss Mink she +nodded:</p> + +<p>"So you found your soldier? I'm going back +to town in ten minutes, I'll take you along if +you like."</p> + +<p>She flitted out of the ward as quickly as she +had come, leaving two long rows of smiling faces +in her wake. She had brought no pity, nor +tenderness, nor understanding, but she had +brought her fresh young beauty, and her little +gift of gayety, and made men forget, at least +for a moment, their pain-racked bodies and their +weary brains.</p> + +<p>Miss Mink reached her cottage that night +weary and depressed. She had had nothing to +eat since breakfast, and yet was too tired to prepare +supper. She made her a cup of tea which +she drank standing, and then crept into bed +only to lie staring into the darkness tortured +by the thought of those heavy weights on Bowinski's +injured leg.</p> + + +<p>The result of her weariness and exposure was +a sharp attack of tonsilitis that kept her in bed +several weeks. The first time she was able to +be up, she began to count the hours until the +next visiting day at the Camp. Her basket +was packed the evening before, and placed beside +the box of carnations in which she had extravagantly +indulged. It is doubtful whether +Miss Mink was ever so happy in her life as during +that hour of pleased expectancy.</p> + +<p>As she moved feebly about putting the house +in order, so that she could make an early start +in the morning, she discovered a letter that the +Postman had thrust under the side door earlier +in the day. Across the left hand corner was +pictured an American flag, and across the right +was a red triangle in a circle. She hastily tore +off the envelop and read:</p> + +<div class="display"> +<p>Dear Miss Mink:</p> + +<p>I am out the Hospital, getting along fine. Hope +you are in the same circumstances. I am sending you +a book which I got from a Dear Young Lady, in the +Hospital. I really do not know what to call her because +I do not know her name, but I know she deserve +a nice, nice name for all good She dose to all soldiers. + +I think she deserve more especially from me than to +call her a Sweet Dear Lady, because that I have the +discouragement, and she make me to laugh and take +heart. I would ask your kind favor to please pass +the book back to the Young Lady, and pleas pass my +thankful word to her, and if you might be able to send +me her name before that I go to France, which I learn +is very soon. Excuse all errors if you pleas will. +This is goodby from</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">Your soldier friend,</p> + +<p style="text-align: right">A. BOWINSKI.</p> +</div> + +<p>Miss Mink read the letter through, then she +sat down limply in a kitchen chair and stared +at the stove. Twice she half rose to get the pen +and ink on the shelf above the coal box, but +each time she changed her mind, folded her +arms indignantly, and went back to her stern +contemplation of the stove. Presently a tear +rolled down her cheek, then another, and another +until she dropped her tired old face in +her tired old hands, and gave a long silent sob +that shook her slight body from head to foot. +Then she rose resolutely and sweeping the back +of her hand across her eyes, took down her writing +materials. On one side of a post card she +wrote the address of Alexis Bowinski, and on + +the other she penned in her cramped neat writing, +one line:</p> + +<p>"Her name is Lois Chalmers. Hotel LeRoy."</p> + +<p>This done she unpacked her basket, put her +half dozen carnations in a tumbler of water +and carried them into the dark parlor, pulled +her chair up to the kitchen table, drew the lamp +closer and patiently went back to her buttonholes.</p> +</div> + + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_3"></a> + +<h2>A Darling Of Misfortune</h2> + + +<p>A shabby but joyous citizen of the world +at large was Mr. Phelan Harrihan, as, +with a soul wholly in tune with the finite, he half +sat and half reclined on a baggage-truck at Lebanon +Junction. He wag relieving the tedium +of his waiting moments by entertaining a critical +if not fastidious audience of three.</p> + +<p>Beside him, with head thrust under his ragged +sleeve, sat a small and unlovely bull-terrier, +who, at each fresh burst of laughter, lifted a +pair of languishing eyes to the face of his master, +and then manifested his surplus affection +by ardently licking the buttons on the sleeve of +the arm that encircled him.</p> + +<p>It was a moot question whether Mr. Harrihan +resembled his dog, or whether his dog resembled +him. That there was a marked similarity +admitted of no discussion. If Corp's +nose had been encouraged and his lower jaw + +suppressed, if his intensely emotional nature +had been under better control, and his sentimentality +tempered with humor, the analogy +would have been more complete. In taste, they +were one. By birth, predilection, and instinct +both were philosophers of the open, preferring +an untrammeled life in Vagabondia to the collars +and conventions of society. Both delighted +in exquisite leisure, and spent it in pleased acquiescence +with things as they are.</p> + +<p>Some twenty-five years before, Phelan had +opened his eyes upon a half-circle of blue sky, +seen through the end of a canvas-covered wagon +on a Western prairie, and having first conceived +life to be a free-and-easy affair on a long, open +road, he thereafter declined to consider it in +any other light.</p> + +<p>The only break in his nomadic existence was +when a benevolent old gentleman found him, a +friendless lad in a Nashville hospital, cursed +him through a fever, and elected to educate him. +Those were years of black captivity for Phelan, +and after being crammed and coached for what +seemed an interminable time, he was proudly + +entered at the University, where he promptly +failed in every subject and was dropped at the +mid-year term.</p> + +<p>The old gentleman, fortunately, was spared +all disappointment in regard to his irresponsible +protégé, for he died before the catastrophe, +leaving Phelan Harrihan a legacy of fifteen dollars +a month and the memory of a kind, but misguided, +old man who was not quite right in his +head.</p> + +<p>Being thus provided with a sum more than +adequate to meet all his earthly needs, Phelan +joyously abandoned the straight and narrow +path of learning, and once more betook himself +to the open road.</p> + +<p>The call of blue skies and green fields, the excitement +of each day's encounter, the dramatic +possibilities of every passing incident, the opportunity +for quick and intimate fellowship, +and above all an inherited and chronic disinclination +for work, made Phelan an easy victim +to that malady called by the casual tourist +"wanderlust," but known in Hoboland as "railroad +fever."</p> + +<p>Only once a year did he return to civilization, +don a stiff collar, and recognize an institution. +During his meteoric career at the University +he had been made a member of the Alpha Delta +fraternity, in recognition of his varied accomplishments. +Not only could he sing and dance +and tell a tale with the best, but he was also a +mimic and a ventriloquist, gifts which had +proven invaluable in crucial conflicts with the +faculty, and had constituted him a hero in several +escapades. Of such material is college history +made, and the Alpha Delta, recognizing the +distinction of possessing this unique member, +refused to accept his resignation, but unanimously +demanded his presence at each annual +reunion.</p> + +<p>On June second, for five consecutive years, +the ends of the earth had yielded up Phelan +Harrihan; by a miracle of grace he had arrived +in Nashville, decently appareled, ready to respond +to his toast, to bask for his brief hour +in the full glare of the calcium, then to depart +again into oblivion.</p> + + +<p>It was now the first day of June and as Phelan +concluded his tale, which was in fact an +undress rehearsal of what he intended to tell on +the morrow, he looked forward with modest satisfaction +to the triumph that was sure to be his. +For the hundredth time he made certain that the +small brown purse, so unused to its present +obesity, was safe and sound in his inside pocket.</p> + +<p>During the pause that followed his recital, +his audience grew restive.</p> + +<p>"Go on, do it again," urged the ragged boy +who sold the sandwiches, "show us how Forty +Fathom Dan looked when he thought he was +sinking.</p> + +<p>"I don't dare trifle with me features," said +Phelan solemnly. "How much are those sandwiches. +One for five, is it? Two for fifteen, I +suppose. Well, here's one for me, and one for +Corp, and keep the change, kid. Ain't that the +train coming?"</p> + +<p>"It's the up train," said the station-master, +rising reluctantly; "it meets yours here. I've +got to be hustling."</p> + + +<p>Phelan, left without an audience, strolled up +and down the platform, closely followed by Corporal +Harrihan.</p> + +<p>As the train slowed up at the little Junction, +there was manifestly some commotion on board. +Standing in the doorway of the rear car a small, +white-faced woman argued excitedly with the +conductor.</p> + +<p>"I didn't have no ticket, I tell you!" she was +saying as the train came to a stop. "I 'lowed +I'd pay my way, but I lost my pocket-book. I +lost it somewheres on the train here, I don't +know where it is!"</p> + +<p>"I've seen your kind before," said the conductor +wearily; "what did you get on for when +you didn't have anything to pay your fare +with?"</p> + +<p>"I tell you I lost my pocket-book after I got +on!" she said doggedly; "I ain't going to get +off, you daren't put me off!"</p> + +<p>Phelan, who had sauntered up, grew sympathetic. +He, too, had experienced the annoyance +of being pressed for his fare when it was inconvenient +to produce it.</p> + + +<p>"Go ahead," demanded the conductor firmly, +"I don't want to push you off, but if you don't +step down and out right away, I'll have it to +do."</p> + +<p>The woman's expression changed from defiance +to terror. She clung to the brake with +both hands and looked at him fearfully.</p> + +<p>"No, no, don't touch me!" she cried. "Don't +make me get off! I've got to get to Cincinnati. +My man's there. He's been hurt in the +foundry. He's—maybe he's dying now."</p> + +<p>"I can't help that, maybe it's so and maybe +it ain't. You never had any money when you +got on this train and you know it. Go on, step +off!"</p> + +<p>"But I did!" she cried wildly; "I did. Oh, +God! don't put me off."</p> + +<p>The train began to move, and the conductor +seized the woman's arms from behind and +forced her forward. A moment more and she +would be pushed off the lowest step. She +turned beseeching eyes on the little group of +spectators, and as she did so Phelan Harrihan +sprang forward and with his hand on the railing, + +ran along with the slow-moving train.</p> + +<p>With a deft movement he bent forward and +apparently snatched something from the folds +of her skirt.</p> + +<p>"Get on to your luck now," he said with an +encouraging smile that played havoc with the +position of his features; "if here ain't your +pocket-book all the time!"</p> + +<p>The hysterical woman looked from the unfamiliar +little brown purse in her hand, to the +snub-nosed, grimy face of the young man running +along the track, then she caught her breath.</p> + +<p>"Why,—" she cried unsteadily, "yes—yes, +it's my purse."</p> + +<p>Phelan loosened his hold on the railing and +had only time to scramble breathlessly up the +bank before the down train, the train for Nashville +which was to have been his, whizzed past.</p> + +<p>He watched it regretfully as it slowed up at +the station, then almost immediately pulled out +again for the south, carrying his hopes with it.</p> + +<p>"Corporal," said Phelan, to the dog, who +had looked upon the whole episode as a physical-culture +exercise indulged in for his special benefit, + +"a noble act of charity is never to be regretted, +but wasn't I the original gun, not to +wait for the change?"</p> + +<p>His lack of business method seemed to weigh +upon him, and he continued to apologize to Corporal:</p> + +<p>"It was so sudden, you know, Corp. +Couldn't see a lady ditched, when I had a bit +of stuffed leather in my pocket. And two +hundred miles to Nashville! Well I'll—be—jammed!"</p> + +<p>He searched in his trousers pockets and found +a dime in one and a hole in the other. It was +an old trick of his to hide a piece of money in +time of prosperity, and then discover it in the +blackness of adversity.</p> + +<p>He held the dime out ruefully: "That's +punk and plaster for supper, but we'll have to +depend on a hand-out for breakfast. And, +Corp," he added apologetically, "you know I +told you we was going to ride regular like gentlemen? +Well, I've been compelled to change +my plans. We are going to turf it twelve miles +down to the watering tank, and sit out a couple + +of dances till the midnight freight comes along. +If a side door Pullman ain't convenient, I'll +have to go on the bumpers, then what'll become +of you, Mr. Corporal Harrihan?"</p> + +<p>The coming ordeal cast no shadow over Corporal. +He was declaring his passionate devotion, +by wild tense springs at Phelan's face, +seeking in vain to overcome the cruel limitation +of a physiognomy that made kissing well-nigh +impossible.</p> + +<p>Phelan picked up his small bundle and started +down the track with the easy, regular swing +of one who has long since gaged the distance of +railroad ties. But his step lacked its usual +buoyancy, and he forgot to whistle, Mr. Harrihan +was undergoing the novel experience of +being worried. Of course he would get to Nashville,—if +the train went, <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">he</span> could go,—but the +prospect of arriving without decent clothes and +with no money to pay for a lodging, did not in +the least appeal to him. He thought with regret +of his well-laid plans: an early arrival, a +Turkish bath, the purchase of a new outfit, instalment +at a good hotel, then—presentation at + +the fraternity headquarters of Mr. Phelan Harrihan, +Gentleman for a Night. He could picture +it all, the dramatic effect of his entrance, +the yell of welcome, the buzz of questions, and +the evasive, curiosity-enkindling answers which +he meant to give. Then the banquet, with its +innumerable courses of well-served food, the +speeches and toasts, and the personal ovation +that always followed Mr. Harrihan's unique +contribution.</p> + +<p>Oh! he couldn't miss it! Providence would +interfere in his behalf, he knew it would, it always +did. "Give me my luck, and keep your +lucre!" was a saying of Phelan's, quoted by +brother hoboes from Maine to the Gulf.</p> + +<p>All the long afternoon he tramped the ties, +with Corporal at his heels. As dusk came on +the clouds that had been doing picket duty, +joined the regiment on the horizon which slowly +wheeled and charged across the sky. Phelan +scanned the heavens with an experienced +weather eye, then began to look for a possible +shelter from the coming shower. On either +side, the fields stretched away in undulating + +lines, with no sign of a habitation in sight. A +dejected old scarecrow, and a tumble-down +shed in the distance were the only objects that +presented themselves.</p> + +<p>Turning up his coat-collar Phelan made a +dash for the shed, but the shower overtook him +half-way. It was not one of your gentle little +summer showers, that patter on the shingles +waking echoes underneath; it was a large and +instantaneous breakage in the celestial plumbing +that let gallons of water down Phelan's +back, filling his pockets, hat brim, and shoes +and sending a dashing cascade down Corporal's +oblique profile.</p> + +<p>"Float on your back, Corp, and pull for the +shore!" laughed Phelan as he landed with a +spring under the dilapidated shed. "Cheer up, +old pard; you look as if all your past misdeeds +had come before you in your drowning +hour."</p> + +<p>Corporal, shivering and unhappy, crept under +cover, and dumbly demanded of Phelan what +he intended to do about it.</p> + +<p>"Light a blaze, sure," said Phelan, "and linger + +here in the air of the tropics till the midnight +freight comes along."</p> + +<p>Scraping together the old wood and débris in +the rear of the shed, and extricating with some +difficulty a small tin match-box from his saturated +clothes, he knelt before the pile and used +all of his persuasive powers to induce it to ignite.</p> + +<p>At the first feeble blaze Corporal's spirits +rose so promptly that he had to be restrained.</p> + +<p>"Easy there! Corp," cautioned Phelan. "A +fire's like a woman, you can't be sure of it too +soon. And, dog alive, stop wagging your tail, +don't you see it makes a draft?"</p> + +<p>The fire capriciously would, then it wouldn't. +A tiny flame played tantalizingly along the top +of a stick only to go sullenly out when it reached +the end. Match after match was sacrificed to +the cause, but at last, down deep under the surface, +there was a steady, reassuring, cheerful +crackle that made Phelan sit back on his heels, +and remark complacently:</p> + +<p>"They most generally come around, in the +end!"</p> + + +<p>In five minutes the fire was burning bright, +Corporal was dreaming of meaty bones in far +fence corners, and Phelan, less free from the +incumbrances of civilization, was divesting himself +of his rain-soaked garments.</p> + +<p>From one of the innumerable pockets of his +old cutaway coat he took a comb and brush and +clothes-brush, and carefully deposited them before +the fire. Then from around his neck he removed +a small leather case, hung by a string +and holding a razor. His treasured toilet articles +thus being cared for, he turned his attention +to the contents of his dripping bundle. A +suit of underwear and a battered old copy of +Eli Perkins were ruefully examined, and spread +out to dry.</p> + +<p>The fire, while it lasted, was doing admirable +service, but the wood supply was limited, and +Phelan saw that he must take immediate advantage +of the heat. How to dry the underwear +which he wore was the question which puzzled +him, and he wrestled with it for several +moments before an inspiration came.</p> + +<p>"I'll borrow some duds from the scarecrow!" + +he said half aloud, and went forth immediately +to execute his idea.</p> + +<p>The rain had ceased, but the fields were still +afloat, and Phelan waded ankle deep through +the slush grass, to where the scarecrow raised +his threatening arms against the twilight sky.</p> + +<p>"Beggars and borrowers shouldn't be choosers," +said Phelan, as he divested the figure of +its ragged trousers and coat, "but I have a +strong feeling in my mind that these habiliments +ain't going to become me. Who's your +tailor, friend?"</p> + +<p>The scarecrow, reduced now to an old straw +hat and a necktie, maintained a dignified and +oppressive silence.</p> + +<p>"Well, he ain't on to the latest cut," continued +Phelan, wringing the water out of the coat. +"But maybe these here is your pajamas? +Don't tell me I disturbed you after you'd retired +for the night? Very well then, aurevoy."</p> + +<p>With the clothes under his arm he made his +way back to the shed, and divesting himself of +his own raiment he got into his borrowed property.</p> + + +<p>By this time the fire had died down, and the +place was in semi-darkness. Phelan threw on +a handful of sticks and, as the blaze flared up, +he caught his first clear sight of his newly acquired +clothes. They were ragged and weather-stained, +and circled about with broad, unmistakable +stripes.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be spiked!" said Phelan, vastly +amused. "I wouldn't 'a' thought it of a nice, +friendly scarecrow like that! Buncoed me, +didn't he? Well, feathers don't always make +the jail-bird. Wonder what poor devil wore + +'em last? Peeled out of 'em in this very shed, +like as not. Well, they'll serve my purpose all +right, all right."</p> + +<p>He took off his shoes, placed them under his +head for a pillow, lit a short cob pipe, threw +on fresh wood, and prepared to wait for his +clothes to dry.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile the question of the banquet revolved +itself continually in his mind. This time +to-morrow night, the preparations would be in +full swing. Instead of being hungry, half +naked, and chilled, he might be in a luxurious + +club-house dallying with caviar, stuffed olives, +and Benedictine. All that lay between him and +bliss were two hundred miles of railroad ties +and a decent suit of clothes!</p> + +<p>"Wake up, Corp; for the love of Mike be +sociable!" cried Phelan when the situation became +too gloomy to contemplate. "Ain't that +like a dog now? Hold your tongue when I'm +longing for a word of kindly sympathy an' encouragement, +and barking your fool head off +once we get on the freight. Much good it'll +be doing us to get to Nashville in this fix, but +we'll take our blessings as they come, Corp, +and just trust to luck that somebody will forget +to turn 'em off. I know when I get to the +banquet there'll be one other man absent. +That's Bell of Terre Haute. Him and me is +always in the same boat, he gets ten thousand +a year and ain't got the nerve to spend it, and +I get fifteen a month, and ain't got the nerve to +keep it! Poor old Bell."</p> + +<p>Corporal, roused from his slumbers, sniffed +inquiringly at the many garments spread about +the fire, yawned, turned around several times in + +dog fashion, then curled up beside Phelan, signifying +by his bored expression that he hadn't +the slightest interest in the matter under discussion.</p> + +<p>Gradually the darkness closed in, and the fire +died to embers. It would be four hours before +the night freight slowed up at the water tank, +and Phelan, tired from his long tramp, and +drowsy from the heat and the vapor rising from +the drying clothes, shifted the shoe-buttons +from under his left ear, and drifted into dreamland.</p> + +<p>How long he slept undisturbed, only the scarecrow +outside knew. He was dimly aware, in his +dreams, of subdued sounds and, by and by, the +sounds formed themselves into whispered words +and, still half asleep, he listened.</p> + +<p>"I thought we'd find him along here. This is +the road they always take," a low voice was saying; +"you and Sam stand here, John and me'll +tackle him from this side. He'll put up a stiff +fight, you bet."</p> + +<p>Phelan opened his eyes, and tried to remember +where he was.</p> + + +<p>"Gosh! look at that bulldog!" came another +whisper, and at the same moment Corporal +jumped to his feet, growling angrily.</p> + +<p>As he did so, four men sprang through the +opening of the shed, and seized Phelan by the +arms and legs.</p> + +<p>"Look out there," cried one excitedly; "don't +let him escape; here's the handcuffs."</p> + +<p>"But here," cried Phelan, "what's up; what +you doing to me?"</p> + +<p>By this time Corporal, thoroughly roused, +made a vicious lunge at the nearest man. The +next minute there was a sharp report of a pistol, +and the bull-terrier went yelping and limping +out into the night.</p> + +<p>"You coward!" cried Phelan, struggling to +rise, "if you killed that dog—"</p> + +<p>"Get those shackles on his legs," shouted one +of the men. "Is the wagon ready, Sam? Take +his legs there, I've got his head. Leave the +truck here, we've got to drive like sand to catch +that train!"</p> + +<p>After being dragged to the road and thrown +into a spring wagon, Phelan found himself lying + +on his back, jolting over a rough country road, +his three vigilant captors sitting beside him +with pistols in hand.</p> + +<p>Any effort on his part to explain or seek information +was promptly and emphatically discouraged. +But in time he gathered, from the +bits let fall by his captors, that he was an escaped +convict, of a most desperate character, for +whom a reward was offered, and that he had +been at large twenty-four hours.</p> + +<p>In vain did he struggle for a hearing. Only +once did he get a response to his oft-repeated +plea of innocence. It was when he told how he +had come by the clothes he had on. For once +Phelan got a laugh when he did not relish it.</p> + +<p>"Got 'em off a scarecrow, did you?" said the +man at his head, when the fun had subsided; +"say, I want to be 'round when you tell that to +the Superintendent of the Penitentiary—I ain't +heard him laugh in ten years!"</p> + +<p>So, in the face of such unbelief, Phelan lapsed +into silence and gloom. What became of him +concerned him less, at the moment, than the fate +of Corporal, and the thought of the faithful little + +beast wounded and perhaps dying out there in +the fields, made him sick at heart.</p> + +<p>Just as they came in sight of the lights of the +station, the whistle of the freight was heard +down the track and the horses were beaten to a +gallop.</p> + +<p>Phelan was hurried from the wagon into an +empty box car, with his full guard in attendance. +As the train pulled out he heard a little +whimper beside him and there, panting for +breath after his long run, and with one ear hanging +limp and bloody, cowered Corporal. Phelan's +hands were not at his disposal, but even +if they had been it is doubtful if he would have +denied Corp the joy for once of kissing him.</p> + +<p>Through the rest of the night the heavy cars +rumbled over the rails, and the men took turn +about sleeping and guarding the prisoner. +Only once did Phelan venture another question:</p> + +<p>"Say, you sports, you don't mind telling me +where you are taking me, do you?"</p> + +<p>"Listen at his gaff!" said one. "He'll know +all right when he gets to Nashville."</p> + +<p>Phelan sent such a radiant smile into the + +darkness that it threatened to reveal itself. +Then he slipped his encircled wrists about Corporal's +body and giving him a squeeze whispered:</p> + +<p>"It's better'n the bumpers, Corp."</p> + +<p>At the Penitentiary next day there was consternation +and dismay when instead of the desperate +criminal, who two days before had scaled +the walls and dropped to freedom, an innocent +little Irishman was presented, whose only offense +apparently was in having donned, temporarily, +the garb of crime.</p> + +<p>As the investigation proceeded, Phelan found +it expedient, to become excessively indignant. +That an American citizen, strolling harmlessly +through the fields of a summer evening, and +being caught in a shower, should attempt to dry +his clothes in an unused shed, and find himself +attacked and bound, and hurried away without +his belongings to a distant city, was an inconceivable +outrage. If a shadow of doubt remained +as to his identity, a score of prominent +gentlemen in the city would be able to identify +him. He named them, and added that he was + +totally unable to hazard a guess as to what form +their resentment of his treatment would assume.</p> + +<p>The authorities looked grave. Could Mr. +Harrihan remember just what articles he had +left behind? Mr. Harrihan could. A suit of +clothes, a pair of shoes, a hat, a toilet set, and +a small sum of money; "the loss of which," +added Phelan with a fine air of indifference, +"are as nothing compared to the indignity +offered to my person."</p> + +<p>Would the gentleman be satisfied if the cost +of these articles, together with the railroad fare +back to Lebanon Junction be paid him? The +gentleman, after an injured pause, announced +that he would.</p> + +<p>And thus it was that Mr. Phelan Harrihan, in +immaculate raiment, presented himself at the +Sixth Annual Reunion of the Alpha Delta fraternity +and, with a complacent smile encircling +a ten-cent cigar, won fresh laurels by recounting, +with many adornments, the adventures of +the previous night.</p> +</div> + + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_4"></a> + +<h2>"Pop"</h2> + + +<p>The gloomy corridor in the big Baltimore +hospital was still and deserted save for +a nurse who sat at a flat-topped desk under a +green lamp mechanically transferring figures +from one chart to another. It was the period +of quiet that usually precedes the first restless +stirring of the sick at the breaking of dawn. +The silence was intense as only a silence can be +that waits momentarily for an interrupting +sound.</p> + +<p>Suddenly it came in a prolonged, imperative +ring of the telephone bell. So insistent was the +call that the nurse's hand closed over the transmitter +long before the burr ceased. The office +was notifying Ward B that an emergency case +had been brought in and an immediate operation +was necessary.</p> + +<p>With prompt efficiency the well-ordered machinery +for saving human life was put in motion. + +Soft-footed nurses emerged from the +shadows and moved quickly about, making necessary +arrangements. A trim, comely woman, +straight of feature and clear of eye, gave directions +in low decisive tones. When the telephone +rang the second time she answered it.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Office," she said, "this is Miss +Fletcher. They are not going to operate? +Too late? I see. Very well. Send the patient +up to No. 16. Everything is ready."</p> + +<p>Even as she spoke the complaining creak of +the elevator could he heard, and presently two +orderlies appeared at the end of the corridor +bearing a stretcher.</p> + +<p>Beside it, with head erect and jaw set, strode +a strangely commanding figure. Six feet two +he loomed in the shadows, a gaunt, raw-boned +old mountaineer. On his head was a tall, wide-brimmed +hat and in his right hand he carried a +bulky carpet sack. The left sleeve of his long-tailed +coat hung empty to the elbow. The massive +head with its white flowing beard and hawklike +face, the beaked nose and fierce, deep-set +eyes, might have served as a model for Michael + +Angelo when he modeled his immortal Moses.</p> + +<p>As the orderlies passed through the door of +No. 16 and lowered the stretcher, the old man +put down his carpet sack and grimly watched +the nurse uncover the patient. Under the worn +homespun coverlet, stained with the dull dyes of +barks and berries, lay an emaciated figure, just +as it had been brought into the hospital. One +long coarse garment covered it, and the bare +feet with their prominent ankle bones and the +large work-hardened hands might have belonged +to either a boy or a girl.</p> + +<p>"Take that thar head wrappin' off!" ordered +the old man peremptorily.</p> + +<p>A nurse carefully unwound the rough woolen +scarf and as she did so a mass of red hair fell +across the pillow, hair that in spite of its matted +disorder showed flashes of gleaming gold.</p> + +<p>"We'll get her on the bed," a night nurse +said to an assistant. "Put your arm under her +knees. Don't jar the stretcher!"</p> + +<p>Before the novice could obey another and a +stronger arm was thrust forward.</p> + +<p>"Stand back thar, some of you-uns," commanded + +a loud voice, "I'll holp move Sal myself."</p> + +<p>In vain were protests from nurses and orderlies +alike, the old mountaineer seemed bent on +making good use of his one arm and with quick +dexterity he helped to lift her on the bed.</p> + +<p>"Now, whar's the doctor?" he demanded, +standing with feet far apart and head thrown +back.</p> + +<p>The doctor was at the desk in the corridor, +speaking to Miss Fletcher in an undertone:</p> + +<p>"We only made a superficial examination +down-stairs," he was saying, "but it is evidently +a ruptured appendix. If she's living +in a couple of hours I may be able to operate. +But it's ten to one she dies on the table."</p> + +<p>"Who are they, and where did they come +from?" Miss Fletcher asked curiously.</p> + +<p>"Their name is Hawkins, and they are from +somewhere in the Kentucky mountains. Think +of his starting with her in that condition! He +can't read or write; it's the first time he has +ever been in a city. I am afraid he's going to + +prove troublesome. You'd better get him out +of there as soon as possible."</p> + +<p>But anyone, however mighty in authority, +who proposed to move Jeb Hawkins when he +did not choose to be moved reckoned unknowingly. +All tactics were exhausted from suggestion +to positive command, and the rules of the +hospital were quoted in vain.</p> + +<p>In the remote regions where Jeb lived there +were no laws to break. Every man's home was +his stronghold, to be protected at the point of +a pistol. He was one of the three million people +of good Anglo-Saxon stock who had been +stranded in the highlands when the Cumberland +Mountains dammed the stream of humanity +that swept westward through the level wilderness. +Development had been arrested so +long in Jeb and his ancestors that the outside +world, its interests and its mode of living, was +a matter of supreme and profound indifference. +A sudden and unprecedented emergency had +driven him to the "Settlements." His girl had +developed an ailment that baffled the skill of the + +herb doctors; so, following one bit of advice +after another, he had finally landed in Baltimore. +And now that the terrible journey was +ended and Sal was in the hands of the doctor +who was to work the cure, the wholly preposterous +request was made of him that he abandon +her to her fate!</p> + +<p>With dogged determination he sat beside the +bed, and chewed silently and stolidly through +the argument.</p> + +<p>"You gals mought ez well save yer wind," he +announced at last. "Ef Sal stays, I stay. Ef +I go, Sal goes. We ain't axin' favors of nobody."</p> + +<p>He was so much in the way during the necessary +preparations for the possible operation +that finally Miss Fletcher was appealed to. She +was a woman accustomed to giving orders and +to having them obeyed; but she was also a +woman of tact. Ten minutes of valuable time +were spent in propitiating the old man before +she suggested that he come with her into the +corridor while the nurses straightened the room. +A few minutes later she returned, smiling:</p> + + +<p>"I've corralled him in the linen closet," she +whispered; "he is unpacking his carpet sack as +if he meant to take up his abode with us."</p> + +<p>"I am afraid," said the special nurse, glancing +toward the bed, "he won't have long to +stay. How do you suppose he ever got her +here?"</p> + +<p>"I asked him. He said he drove her for +three days in an ox-cart along the creek bottom +until they got to Jackson. Then he told the +ticket agent to send them to the best hospital +the train ran to. Neither of them had ever +seen a train before. It's a miracle she's lived +this long."</p> + +<p>"Does he realize her condition?"</p> + +<p>"I don't know. I suppose I ought to tell him +that the end may come at any time."</p> + +<p>But telling him was not an easy matter as +Miss Fletcher found when she joined him later +in the linen closet. He was busy spreading his +varied possessions along the shelves on top of +the piles of immaculate linen, stopping now and +then to refresh himself with a bite of salt pork +and some corn pone that had been packed for + +days along with Sally's shoes and sunbonnet +and his own scanty wardrobe.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you know," Miss Fletcher began +gently, trying not to show her chagrin at the +state of the room, "that your daughter is in a +very serious condition."</p> + +<p>He looked at her sharply. "Shucks! Sal'll +pull through," he said with mingled defiance +and alarm. "You ain't saw her afore in one +of them spells. Besides, hit meks a difference +when a gal's paw and grandpaw and great-grandpaw +was feud-followers. A feud-follower +teks more killin' then ordinary folks. Her maw +was subjec' to cramp colic afore her."</p> + +<p>"But this isn't cramp colic," Miss Fletcher +urged, "it's her appendix, and it wasn't taken +in time."</p> + +<p>"Well, ain't they goin' to draw it?" he asked +irritably. "Ain't that whut we're here fer?"</p> + +<p>"Yes; but you don't understand. The doctor +may decide <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">not</span>, to operate."</p> + +<p>The old man's face wore a puzzled look, then +his lips hardened:</p> + +<p>"Mebbe hit's the money thet's a-woriyin' + +him. You go toll him that Jeb Hawkins pays +ez he goes! I got pension money sewed in my +coat frum the hem clean up to the collar. I +hain't askin' none of you to cure my gal fer +nothin'!"</p> + +<p>Miss Fletcher laid her hand on his arm. It +was a shapely hand as well as a kindly one.</p> + +<p>"It isn't a question of money," she said +quietly, "it's a question of life or death. There +is only a slight chance that your daughter will +live through the day."</p> + +<p>Someone tapped at the door and Miss +Fletcher, after a whispered consultation, turned +again to the old man:</p> + +<p>"They have decided to take the chance," she +said hurriedly. "They are carrying her up +now. You stay here, and I will let you know +as soon as it is over."</p> + +<p>"Whar they fetching her to?" he demanded +savagely.</p> + +<p>"To the operating-room."</p> + +<p>"You take me thar!"</p> + +<p>"But you can't go, Mr. Hawkins. No one +but the surgeons and nurses can be with her. + +Besides, the nurse who was just here said she +had regained consciousness, and it might excite +her to see you."</p> + +<p>She might as well have tried to stop a mountain +torrent. He brushed past her and was +making his way to the elevator before she had +ceased speaking. At the open door of the operating-room +on the fourth floor he paused. On +a long white table lay the patient, a white-clad +doctor on either side of her, and a nurse in the +background sorting a handful of gleaming instruments. +With two strides the old man +reached the girl's side.</p> + +<p>"Sal!" he said fiercely, bending over her, +"air ye wuss?"</p> + +<p>Her dazed eyes cleared slightly.</p> + +<p>"I dunno, Pop," she murmured feebly.</p> + +<p>"Ye ain't fixin' to die, air ye?" he persisted.</p> + +<p>"I dunno, Pop."</p> + +<p>"Don't you let 'em skeer you," he commanded +sternly. "You keep on a-fightin'. +Don't you dare give up. Sal, do you hear me?"</p> + +<p>The girl's wavering consciousness steadied, +and for a moment the challenge that the old man + +flung at death was valiantly answered in her +pain-racked eyes.</p> + +<p>For an hour and a half the surgeons worked. +The case, critical enough at best, was greatly +complicated by the long delay. Twice further +effort seemed useless, and it was only by the +prompt administration of oxygen that the end +was averted. During the nerve-racking suspense +Pop not only refused to leave the room, +he even refused to stand back from the table. +With keen, suspicious eyes he followed every +movement of the surgeons' hands. Only once +did he speak out, and that was in the beginning, +to an interne who was administering the +anćsthetic:</p> + +<p>"Lift that funnel, you squash-headed fool!" +he thundered; "don't you see hit's marking of +her cheek?"</p> + +<p>When the work was finished and the unconscious +patient had been taken down to her ward, +Pop still kept his place beside her. With his +hand on her pulse he watched her breathing, +watched the first faint quivering of her lids, the +restlessness that grew into pain and later into + +agony. Hour after hour he sat there and +passed with her through that crucifixion that +follows some capital operations.</p> + +<p>On his refusal at luncheon time to leave the +bedside Miss Fletcher ignored the rules and sent +him a tray; but when night came and he still +refused to go, she became impatient.</p> + +<p>"You can't stay in here to-night, Mr. Hawkins," +she said firmly. "I have asked one of +the orderlies, who lives nearby, to take you +home with him. We can send for you if there +is any change. I must insist that you go now."</p> + +<p>"Ain't I made it cl'ar from the start," cried +Pop angrily, "thet I ain't a-goin' to be druv +out? You-uns kin call me muley-headed or +whatever you've a mind to. Sal's always stood +by me, and by golly, I'm a-goin' to stand by +Sal!"</p> + +<p>His raised voice roused the patient, and a +feeble summons brought Miss Fletcher to the +bedside.</p> + +<p>"Say," plead the girl faintly, "don't rile Pop. +He's the—fightenest man—in—Breathitt—when +his blood's—up."</p> + + +<p>"All right, dear," said Miss Fletcher, with a +soothing hand on the hot brow; "he shall do as +he likes."</p> + +<p>During that long night the girl passed from +one paroxysm of pain to another with brief intervals +of drug-induced sleep. During the quiet +moments the nurse snatched what rest she could; +but old Jeb Hawkins stuck to his post in the +straight-backed chair, never nodding, never relaxing +the vigilance of his watch. For Pop was +doing sentry duty, much as he had done it in +the old days of the Civil War, when he had answered +Lincoln's first call for volunteers and +given his left arm for his country.</p> + +<p>But the enemy to-night was mysterious, +crafty, one that might come in the twinkling of +an eye, and a sentry at seventy is not what he +was at twenty-two. When the doctor arrived +in the morning he found the old man haggard +with fatigue.</p> + +<p>"This won't do, Mr. Hawkins," he said +kindly; "you must get some rest."</p> + +<p>"Be she goin' to die?" Pop demanded, +steadying himself by a chair.</p> + +<p>"It is too soon to tell," the doctor said evasively; +"but I'll say this much, her pulse is better +than I expected. Now, go get some sleep."</p> + +<p>Half an hour later a strange rumbling sound +puzzled the nurses in Ward B. It came at regular +intervals, rising from a monotonous growl +to a staccato, then dying away in a plaintive +diminuendo. It was not until one of the nurses +needed clean sheets that the mystery was explained. +On the floor of the linen closet, +stretched on his back with his carpet sack under +his head and his empty sleeve across his chest, +lay Pop!</p> + +<p>From that time on the old mountaineer became +a daily problem to Ward B. It is true, he +agreed in time to go home at night with the +orderly; but by six in the morning he was sitting +on the hospital steps, impatiently awaiting +admission. The linen closet was still regarded +by him as his private apartment, to +which he repaired at such times as he could not +stay in Sally's room, and refreshed himself with +the luncheon he brought with him each day.</p> + +<p>During the first week, when the girl's life + +hung in the balance, he was granted privileges +which he afterward refused to relinquish. The +hospital confines, after the freedom of the hills, +chafed him sorely. As the days grew warmer +he discarded his coat, collar, and at times his +shoes.</p> + +<p>"I 'low I'm goin' to tek Sal home next week!" +became his daily threat.</p> + +<p>But the days and weeks slipped by, and still +the girl lay with a low, consuming fever, and +still Pop watched by her side, showing her no +affection by word or gesture but serving her +and anticipating her every want with a thoroughness +that left little for the nurses to do.</p> + +<p>In some way Miss Fletcher had gained his +confidence. To her he intrusted the bills which +he ripped from his coat at the end of each week +with the instruction that she "pay off them boys +down in the office fa'r an' squar', but not to 'low +'em to cheat her." It may have been her growing +interest in the invalid that won his favor, +for she came in often to chat awhile with Sally +and sometimes brought up a handful of flowers +to brighten the sick room.</p> + + +<p>"She's getting better," she said one morning +as she held the girl's big bony hand and looked +down at the thin bright face in its frame of +shining hair. "We'll have her sitting up now +before long."</p> + +<p>Pop's whole aspect brightened.</p> + +<p>"Ef Sal onct begins to git well, can't none of +'em beat her," he said proudly.</p> + +<p>"Have you any other children?" Miss +Fletcher asked.</p> + +<p>"Lord, yes," said Pop, "heaps of 'em. +Thar's Ted an' Larkin, an' Gus,—they wuz all +kilt in feud fights. An' Burt an' Jim,—they're +in jail in Jackson fer moonshinin'. Four more +died when they wuz babies. An' they ain't nary +a one at home now but jes' Sal."</p> + +<p>"How old is she?"</p> + +<p>"Seventeen or eighteen, mebbe."</p> + +<p>"And she tells me she has never been to +school."</p> + +<p>"Thar warn't no needcessity," said Pop complacently, +taking a long twist of tobacco from +his pocket. "Sal don't need no larnin'. She's + +pearter then most gals thet's got book sense. +You show me ary one of these gals round here +thet kin spin an' weave the cloth to mek ther +own dresses, thet kin mold candles, an' mek +soap, an' hoe terbaccy, an' handle a rifle good +ez a man."</p> + +<p>"But, Mr. Hawkins," insisted Miss Fletcher, +"there are better things than those for us to +learn. Haven't you ever felt the need of an +education yourself?"</p> + +<p>Pop looked at her suspiciously: "Look +a-here, young woman. I'm nigh on to seventy. +I never hed a doctor but onct in my life, +an' then he chopped my arm off when it might +hev got well whar it wuz. I kin plow, an' fell +trees, an' haul wood. Thar ain't a log-rollin' +ner a house-raisin' in our neck of the woods +thet Jeb Hawkins ain't sent fer. I kin h'ist a +barrel with the best of 'em, and shake up Ole +Dan Tucker ez peart ez the next one. Now how +about yer scholards? This here horspittle is +full of 'em. Pale-faced, spindly-legged, nerve-jerking +young fellows thet has spent ther fust + +twenty years gittin' larnin', an' ther next +twenty gittin' over hit. Me an' Sal will keep +to the open!"</p> + +<p>But Sally was not so confident. As her +strength began to return she took a growing +interest in all that went on around her, asking +eager, intelligent questions and noting with wistful +curiosity the speech and manners of the +nurses who served her. She was a raw recruit +from Nature, unsophisticated, illiterate. Under +a bondage of poverty and drudgery she had led +her starved life in the mountain fastnesses; but +now she had opened her eyes on a new and unexpected +world.</p> + +<p>"How do you go about gittin' a larnin'?" she +ventured at last to ask one of the friendly +nurses. "Can't you fetch me up some of them +thar picter books?"</p> + +<p>For hours after this she pored over her new +treasures, until one day Miss Fletcher brought +her a primer, and the seventeen-year-old girl +grappled for the first time with the alphabet. +After that she was loath to have the book out +of her hand, going painfully and slowly over the + +lessons, mastering each in turn with patient +perseverance.</p> + +<p>Pop viewed this proceeding with disfavor. +He seemed to sense the entering wedge that was +to separate her from him. His pride in her +accomplishment was overshadowed by his jealousy, +and when she was able to read a whole +page and attempted to explain the intricate +process to him, he was distinctly cast down. +He left the hospital that afternoon for the first +time, and was gone until dusk. When he returned +he carried a bunch of faded wild flowers +that he had tramped two miles in the country +to get for his girl.</p> + +<p>May dragged into June, and still they were +kept at the hospital. The old man became as +restless as a caged animal; he paced the corridors +for hours at a time and his eyes grew furtive +and defiant. He, who had lived out of sight +of the smoke from his nearest neighbor's chimneys, +who had spent his life in the vast, still +solitudes of the hills, was incredibly lonely here +among his fellow men.</p> + +<p>"If Pop has to stay here much longer, I'm + +afraid he'll smash the furniture," said the +night nurse who, like everybody else in the +ward, had grown interested in the old man. +"He packs his things every morning before the +doctor comes, only to unpack them after he +leaves."</p> + +<p>"The confinement is telling on him," said +Miss Fletcher. "I wish for his sake they could +start home to-day. But I do hate to see Sally +go! The girl is getting her first taste of civilization, +and I've never seen anyone so eager to +learn. We have to take the books away from +her every day, and when she can't study she +begs to be allowed to roll bandages. The third +day she sat up she wanted to help nurse the other +patients.</p> + +<p>"I am afraid we have spoiled her for hoeing +tobacco, and planting corn," said the night +nurse.</p> + +<p>"I hope so," Miss Fletcher answered fervently.</p> + +<p>It was nearly the last of June when the doctor +dismissed his patient. "This doesn't mean that +she is well," he warned Pop. "You will have + +to be careful of her for a long time. She has +worked too hard for a growing girl, and she's +not as strong now as she was."</p> + +<p>"She will be!" Pop responded confidently. +"That thar gal is made outen iron! Her maw +was afore her. Liza wuz my third wife, an' +she'd borned six or seven children, when she +died at thirty-five, an', by Joshuy, she'd never +once hed a doctor in all her life!"</p> + +<p>Pop's joy over their dismissal was slightly +dimmed by Sally's reception of the news. He +saw her draw a long breath and bite her lips; +then he saw what he had never seen since she +was a baby, two large tears gather slowly in her +eyes and roll down on the pillow. He watched +them in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Sal, whut ails ye?" he asked anxiously, +after the doctor was gone.</p> + +<p>"I want to git a larnin'!" she broke out. "I +don't want to go back to the hills."</p> + +<p>Instantly the old man's face, which had been +tender, hardened to a mask of fury.</p> + +<p>"That passel of fool women's been workin' on +ye," he cried hoarsely, "larnin', larnin', thet's + +all they know. Ain't the Fork good enough fer +ye? Ain't the cabin whar yer paw, an' yer +grandpaw, an' yer great-grandpaw was borned +good enough for ye?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, Pop, yes!" she gasped, terrified at the +storm she had raised. "I'm a-goin' back with +you. Don't tek on so, Pop, I'm a-goin'!"</p> + +<p>But the tempest was raging, and the old man +got up and strode angrily up and down the +small room, filling the air with his indignation.</p> + +<p>"I should say you <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">wuz</span> goin' back! I'd like +to see any of 'em try to keep you. They'd like +to make one o' them dressed-up doll women +outen you! You're goin' back with me to the +Fork, an' ef thar's ever any more nussin' er +doctorin' to do, I'm a-goin' to do hit. I've +nussed three women on their deathbeds, an' + +when your time comes I 'low I kin handle you +too."</p> + +<p>Then his mood changed suddenly, and he sat +down by the bed.</p> + +<p>"Sal," he said almost persuasively, "you'll +git over this here foolishness. Ag'in' fall you'll +be a-cappin corn, an' a-roastin' sweet pertatoes, + +an' singin' them ole ballarts along with the +Hicks gals, an' Cy West, an' Bub Holly. An' + +I'll tote you behind me on the beast over the +Ridge to the Baptist Meetin' House the very +next feet-washin' they hev. Jes' think how +good hit's goin' to be to see the sun a-risin' over +Ole Baldy, an' to hev room to stretch an' breathe +in. Seems ez if I hain't been able to git my +lungs full of wind sense I left Jackson."</p> + +<p>"I know it, Pop," Sally said miserably. +"You growed old in the hills afore you ever seen +the Settlements. But sence I got a sight of +whut folks is a-doin' down here, 'pears like I +can't be reconciled to goin' back. 'Tain't the +work back home, nor the lonesomeness, tho' the +Lord knows the only folks thet ever does pass +is when they're totin' deads down the creek bottom. +Hit's the feelin' of bein' shet off from my +chanct. Ef I could git a larnin' I wouldn't ask +nothin' better then to go back an' pass it along. +When I see these here gals a-larnin' how to holp +the sick, an' keer fer babies, an' doctor folks, I +lay here an' steddy 'bout all the good I could do +back home ef I only knowed how."</p> + + +<p>"You do know how," Pop declared vociferously; +"ain't you bin a-lookin' after folks thet's +ailin' around the Fork fer a couple of years or +more? Ez fer these new-fangled doctorin's, +they won't nary one ov 'em do the good yarbs +will. I'd ruther trust bitter-goldenseal root to +cure a ailment than all the durn physic in this +here horspittle. I ben a-studyin' these here +doctors, an' I don't take much stock in 'em; +instid of workin' on a organ thet gets twisted, +they ups and draws hit. Now the Lord +A'mighty put thet air pertickler thing in you fer +some good reason, an' ther's bound to be a hitch +in the machinery when hit's took out. Hit's a +marvel to me some of these here patients ain't +a amblin' round on all fours from what's been +did to their insides!"</p> + +<p>"But think whut the doctor did fer me," +urged Sally.</p> + +<p>"I ain't fergittin'," Pop said suddenly, "an' +I've paid 'em fer hit. But ef they calkerlate on +yer takin' root here, they're treein' the wrong +possum. You're a-goin' home along o' me to-morrow."</p> + + +<p>That afternoon he left the hospital, and several +hours later was seen walking up Monument +Street with his arm full of bundles.</p> + +<p>"I believe he's been buying clothes to take +Sally home in!" said one of the nurses, who +was watching him from an upper window. "He +asked me this morning if I knew a place where +he could buy women's togs."</p> + +<p>"It's a shame he won't let the girl stay," +said Miss Fletcher. "I have been talking to the +superintendent, and she is quite willing to let +her do light work around the hospital and pick +up what training she can. I should be glad +enough to look after her, and there's a good +night school two blocks over."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you talk to the old man?" urged +the nurse. "You are the only one who has ever +been able to do anything with him. Perhaps +you could make him see what an injustice he is +doing the girl."</p> + +<p>"I believe I'll try," said Miss Fletcher.</p> + +<p>The next morning, when she came on duty, she +found Sally's bed the repository of a strange +assortment of wearing apparel. A calico dress + +of pronounced hue, a large lace jabot, and a +small pair of yellow kid gloves were spread out +for inspection.</p> + +<p>"I knowed they wuz too leetle," Pop was saying, +as he carefully smoothed the kid fingers, +"but I 'lowed you could kerry 'em in yer hand."</p> + +<p>There was an unusual eagerness in his hard +face, an evident desire to make up to Sally in +one way for what he was depriving her of in +another. He was more talkative than at any +time since coming to the hospital, and he dilated +with satisfaction on the joys that awaited their +home-coming.</p> + +<p>"May I have a little talk with you before you +go?" asked Miss Fletcher.</p> + +<p>He flashed on her a quick look of suspicion, +but her calm, impassive face told him nothing. +She was a pretty woman, and Pop had evidently +recognized the fact from the start.</p> + +<p>"Wal, I'll come now," he said, rising reluctantly; +"but, Sal, you git yer clothes on an' be +ready to start time I git back. I ain't anxious +to stay round these here diggin's no longer'n +need be. Besides, that thar railroad car mought + +take a earlier start. You be ready ag'in I git +back."</p> + +<p>For an hour and a quarter Miss Fletcher was +shut up in the linen closet with the old man. +What arguments and persuasions she brought +to bear are not known. Occasionally his voice +could be heard in loud and angry dissent, but +when at last they emerged he looked like some +old king of the jungle that has been captured +and tamed. His shoulders drooped, his one arm +hung limply by his side, and his usually restless +eyes were bent upon the floor.</p> + +<p>Without a word he strode back to the room +where Sally in her misfit clothes was waiting +for him.</p> + +<p>"Come along o' me, Sal," he commanded +sternly as he picked up his carpet sack. "Leave +your things whar they be."</p> + +<p>Silently they passed out of the ward, down +the stairway, through the long vaultlike corridor +to the superintendent's room. Once there +he flung back his rusty coat and ripped the last +bill but one from its hiding place.</p> + +<p>"That thar is fer my gal," he said defiantly + +to the superintendent. "She'll git one the fust +day of every month. Give her the larnin' she's +so hell-bent on, stuff her plumb full on it. An' + +ef you let ennything happen to her"—his brows +lowered threateningly—"I'll come back an' blow +yer whole blame' horspittle into eternity!"</p> + +<p>"Pop!" Sally pleaded, "Pop!"</p> + +<p>But his emotions were at high tide and he did +not heed her. Pushing her roughly aside, he +strode back to the entrance hall, and was about +to pick up his carpet sack when his gaze was +suddenly arrested by the great marble figure +that bends its thorn-crowned head in pity over +the unhappy and the pain-racked mortals that +pass beneath its outstretched hands.</p> + +<p>"You ain't goin' to leave me like this, Pop?" +begged Sally. "Ef you take it so hard, I'll go +back, an' I'll go willin'. Jus' say the word, +Pop, an' I'll go!"</p> + +<p>The old mountaineer's one hand closed on the +girl's bony arm in a tight clasp, his shoulders +heaved, and his massive features worked, but his +gaze never left the calm, pitying face of the +Saviour overhead. He had followed his child + +without a tremor into the Valley of the Shadow +of Death, but at the entrance of this new life, +where he must let her go alone, his courage +failed and his spirit faltered. His dominant +will, hitherto the only law he knew, was in mortal +combat with a new and unknown force that +for the first time had entered his life.</p> + +<p>For several minutes he stood thus, his conflicting +passions swaying him, as opposing gales +shake a giant forest tree. Then he resolutely +loosened his grip on the girl's arm and taking +up his burden, without a word or a backward +glance, set his face toward the hills, leaving an +awkward, wistful girl watching him with her +tears only half obscuring the vision that was +already dawning for her.</p> +</div> + + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_5"></a> + +<h2>Hoodooed</h2> + + +<p>Gordon Lee Surrender Jones +lay upon what he confidently claimed to +be his death-bed. Now and again he glanced +furtively at the cabin door and listened. Being +assured that nobody was coming, he cautiously +extricated a large black foot from the bedclothes, +and, holding it near the candle, laboriously +tied a red string about one of his toes. +He was a powerful negro, with a close-cropped +bullet-head, a massive bulldog jaw, and a pair +of incongruously gentle and credulous eyes.</p> + +<p>According to his own diagnosis, he was suffering +from "asmy, bronketers, pneumony, grip, +diabeters, and old age." The last affliction was +hardly possible, as Gordon Lee was probably +born during the last days of the Civil War, +though he might have been eighty, for all he +knew to the contrary. In addition to his acknowledged + +ailments, there was one he cherished +in secret. It was by far the most mysterious +and deadly of the lot, a malady to be +pondered on in the dark watches of the night, to +be treated with weird rites and ceremonies, and +to be cured only by some specialist versed in the +deepest lore of witchcraft; for Gordon Lee knew +beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that a +hoodoo had been laid upon him.</p> + +<p>Of course, like most of his race, he had had +experiences in this line before; but this was different. +In fact, it was no less a calamity than +a cricket in his leg. Just how the cricket got +into his leg was a matter too deep for human +speculation; but the fact that it was there, and +that it hopped with ease from knee to ankle, +and made excruciating excursions into his five +toes, was as patent as the toes themselves.</p> + +<p>What complicated the situation for Gordon +Lee was that he could not discuss this painful +topic with his wife. Amanda Jones had embarked +on the higher education, and had long +ago thrown overboard her old superstitions. +She was not only Queen Mother of the Sisters of + +the Order of the Star, and an officer in various +church societies, but she was also a cook in the +house of Mrs. James Bertram, President of the +State Federation of Women's Clubs. The +crumbs of wisdom that fell from the lips of the +great Mrs. Bertram were carefully preserved +by Amanda, and warmed over, with sundry garnishings +of her own, for the various colored +clubs to which she belonged.</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee had succeeded in adorning only +three toes when he heard a quick step on the +gravel outside and, hastily getting his foot +under cover, he settled back on the pillow, closed +his eyes, and began laboriously inhaling with a +wheeze and exhaling with a groan.</p> + +<p>The candle sputtered as the door was flung +open, and a small, energetic mulatto woman, +twenty years Gordon Lee's junior, bustled into +the room.</p> + +<p>"Good lan'! but it's hot in heah!" she exclaimed, +flinging up a window. "I got a good +mind to <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">nail</span> this heah window down f'om the +top."</p> + +<p>"I done open' de door fer a spell dis mawnin'," + +said Gordon Lee, sullenly, pulling the bedclothes +tighter about his neck. "Lettin' in all +dis heah night air meks my eyes sore."</p> + +<p>The bedclothes, having thus been drawn up +from the bottom of the bed, left the patient's +feet exposed, and Amanda immediately spied the +string-encircled toes.</p> + +<p>"Gordon Lee Surrender Jones," she exclaimed +indignantly, "has that there meddlin' +ol' Aunt Kizzy been here again?"</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee's eyes blinked, and his thick, +sullen under lip dropped half an inch lower.</p> + +<p>"Ef you think," continued Amanda, furiously, +"that I'm a-goin' to keep on a-workin' + +my fingers to the bone, lak I been doin' for the +past year, a-payin' doctors' bills, an' buyin' +medicines fer you, while you lay up in this here +bed listenin' to the fool talk of a passel of igneramuses, +you's certainly mistaken. Hit's bad +enough to have you steddyin' up new ailments +ever' day, without folks a-puttin' 'em in yer +head. Whut them strings tied on yer toes fer?"</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee's wheezing had ceased under his +severe mental strain, and now he lay blinking at + +the ceiling, utterly unable to give a satisfactory +answer.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Kizzy jes happen' 'long," he muttered +presently. "Ain't no harm in a' ol' frien' +passin' de time ob day."</p> + +<p>"Whut them <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">strings</span> tied on yer toes fer?" +repeated Amanda with fearful insistence.</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee, pushed to the extreme, and knowing +by experience that he was as powerless in +the hands of his diminutive wife as an elephant +in those of his keeper, weakly capitulated.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Kizzy 'low'—I ain't sayin' she's right; +I's jes tellin' you what she <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">'low'</span>—Aunt Kizzy + +'low' dat, 'cordin' to de symtems, she say',—an' +I ain't sayin' I b'lieve her,—but she say' +hit looks to her lak I's sufferin' f'om a hoodoo."</p> + +<p>"A hoodoo!" Amanda's scorn was unbounded. +"Ef it don't beat my time how some +of you niggers hang on to them ol' notions. +'Tain't nothin' 't all but ignorant superstition. +Ain't I tol' you that a hunderd times?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you done tol' me," said Gordon Lee, +putting up a feeble defense. "You all time +quoilin' an' runnin' down conjurin' an' bad-luck + +signs an' all de <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">nigger</span> superstitions; but +you's quick 'nough to tek up all dese heah <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">white</span> + +superstitions."</p> + +<p>"How you mean?" demanded Amanda.</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee, flattered at having any remark +of his noticed, proceeded to elaborate.</p> + +<p>"I mean all dis heah talk 'bout hits bein' bad +luck to sleep wid de windows shet, an' bout flies +carrying disease, an' 'bout worms gittin' in de +milk ef you leave it settin' roun' unkivered."</p> + +<p>"Not worms," corrected Amanda; "<span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">germs</span>. +That ain't no superstition; that's a scientific +fac'. They is so little you don't see 'em; but +they's there all right. Mis' Bertram says +they's ever'where—in the water, in the air, +crawlin' up the very walls."</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee looked fearfully at the ceiling, +as if he expected an immediate attack from that +direction.</p> + +<p>"I ain't sayin' dey ain't, Amanda. Come to +think of hit, seems lak I 'member 'em scrunchin' +'g'inst my teeth when I eats. I ain't sayin' +nothin' 't all 'bout white folks superstitions,—I + +'spec' dey's true, ebery one ob 'em,—but hit + +look' lak you oughtn't to shet yer min' ag'inst +de colored signs dat done come down f'om yer +maw an' yer paw, an' yer gran'maw an' gran'paw +fer back as Adam. I 'spec' Adam hisself +was conjured. Lak as not de sarpint done +tricked him into regalin' hisself wid dat apple. +But I s'pose you'd lay hit on de germs whut was +disportin' deyselves on de apple. But dey ain't +no use in 'sputin' dat p'int, 'ca'se de fac' remains +dat de apple's done et."</p> + +<p>"I ain't astin' you to dispute nothin'," cried +Amanda, by this time in a high state of indignation. +"I'm a-talkin' scientific fac's, an' +you're talkin' nigger foolishness. The ignorance +jes nachully oozes outen the pores o' your +skin."</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee, thus arraigned, lay with contracted +brows and protruding lips, nursing his +wrongs, while Amanda disappeared into the adjoining +room, there to vent her wrath on the +pots and pans about the stove.</p> + +<p>Despite the fact that it was after eight o'clock +and she had been on her feet all day, she set +about preparing the evening meal for her husband + +with all the care she had bestowed on the +white folks' supper.</p> + +<p>Soon the little cabin was filled with the savory +odor of bacon, and when the corn battercakes +began to sizzle promisingly, and she +flipped them over dexterously with a fork, Gordon +Lee forgot his ill humor, and through the +door watched the performance with growing +eagerness.</p> + +<p>"Git yerself propped up," Amanda called +when the cakes were encircled with crisp, brown +edges. "I'll git the bread-board to put acrost +yer knees. You be eatin' this soup while I +dishes up the bacon an' onions. How'd you like +to have a little jam along with yer apple-dumplin'?"</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee, sitting up in bed with this liberal +repast spread on the bread-board across his +knees, and his large, bare feet, with their pink +adornments, rising like ebony tombstones at the +foot of the bed, forgot his grievance.</p> + +<p>"Jam!" he repeated. "Well, dat dere Sally +Ann Slocum's dumplin's may need jam, er +Maria Johnsing's, but dis heah dumplin' is complete + +in hitself. Ef dey ever was a pusson dat +could assemble a' apple-dumplin' so's you swoller +hit 'most afore hit gits to yer mouf, dat +pusson is you."</p> + +<p>Harmony being thus restored, and the patient +having emptied all the dishes before him, +Amanda proceeded to clear up. Her small, +energetic figure moved briskly from one room +to the other, and as she worked she sang in a +low, chanting tone:</p> + +<div class="lg"> +<p class="l">"You got a shoe,</p> +<p class="l">I got a shoe,</p> +<p class="l">All God's children got shoes.</p> +<p class="l">When I git to heaben, gwine try on my shoes,</p> +<p class="l">Gwine walk all over God's heaben, heaben, heaben.</p> + +<p class="l">Ever'body's talkin' 'bout heaben ain't gwine to heaben—</p> +<p class="l">Heaben, heaben, gwine walk all over God's heaben."</p> +</div> + +<p>But the truce, thus declared, was only temporary. +During the long days that Amanda +was away at her work, Gordon Lee had nothing +to do but lie on his back and think of his ailments. +For twenty years he had worked in an +iron foundry, where his muscles were as active +as his brain was passive. Now that the case + +was reversed, the result was disastrous. From +an attack of rheumatism a year ago he had +developed an amazing number of complaints, all +of which finally fell under the head of the dread +hoodoo.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kizzy, the object of Amanda's special +scorn, he held in great reverence. She had been +a familiar figure in his mother's chimney-corner +when he was a boy, and to doubt her knowledge +of charms and conjuring was to him nothing +short of heresy. She knew the value of every +herb and simple that grew in Hurricane Hollow. +She was an adept in getting people into the +world and getting them out of it. She was constantly +consulted about weaning calves, and +planting crops according to the stage of the +moon. And for everything in the heavens above +and the earth beneath and the waters under the +earth she "had a sign."</p> + +<p>Since Gordon Lee's illness, she had fallen into +the habit of dropping in to sit with him at such +hours as Amanda would not be there. She +would crouch over the fire, elbows on knees and +pipe in mouth, and regale him with hair-raising + +tales of "hants" and "sperrits" and the part +she had played in exorcising them.</p> + +<p>"Dis heah case ob yourn," she said one day, +"ain't no ordinary case. I done worked on lizards +in de laigs, but I nebber had no 'casion to +treat a <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">cricket</span> in de laig. Looks lak de cricket +is a more persistent animal dan de lizard. +'Sides, ez I signify afore, dis heah case ob yourn +ain't no ordinary case."</p> + +<p>"Why—why ain't it?" Gordon Lee stammered +apprehensively.</p> + +<p>Aunt Kizzy lifted a bony black hand, and +shook her turbaned head ominously.</p> + +<p>"Dey's two kinds ob hoodoos," she said, "de +libin' an' de daid. De daid ones is de easiest to +lift, 'ca'se dey answers to charms; but nobody +can lift a libin' hoodoo 'ceptin' de one dat laid +hit on. I been a-steddyin' an' a-steddyin', an' + +de signs claim dat dis heah hoodoo ob yourn +ain't no daid hoodoo."</p> + +<p>By this time the whites of Gordon Lee's eyes +were largely in evidence, and he raised himself +fearfully on his elbow.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Kizzy," he whispered hoarsely, "how + +am I gwine to fin' out who 't is done conjured +me?"</p> + +<p>"By de sign ob seben," she answered mysteriously. +"I's gwine home an' work hit out, den +I come back an' tell yer. Ef my 'spicions am +true, dat dis heah is a <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">libin'</span> hoodoo, de only +power in de earth to tek it off am ter git er bigger +trick an' lay on de top ob hit. I'm gwine +home now, an' I'll be back inside de hour."</p> + +<p>That night when Amanda returned home she +found Gordon Lee preoccupied and silent. He +ate gingerly of the tempting meal she prepared, +and refused to have his bed straightened before +he went to sleep.</p> + +<p>"Huccome you put yer pillow on the floor?" +she asked.</p> + +<p>"I ain't believin' in feathers," he answered +sullenly; "dey meks me heah things."</p> + +<p>In vain Amanda tried to cheer him; she recounted +the affairs of the day; she gave him +all the gossip of the Order of the Sisters of the +Star. He lay perfectly stolid, his horizontal +profile resembling a mountain-range the highest +peak of which was his under lip.</p> + + +<p>Finally Amanda's patience wore thin.</p> + +<p>"Whut's the matter with you, Gordon Lee +Surrender Jones?" she demanded. "Whut you +mean by stickin' out yer lip lak a circus camel?"</p> + +<p>Now that the opportunity for action had come, +he feared to take advantage of it. Amanda, +small as she was, looked firm and determined, +and he knew by experience that he was no match +for her.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't fer you to be astin' <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">me</span> whut's de +matter," he began significantly. "De glove's +on de other han'."</p> + +<p>"Whut you 'sinuatin', nigger?" cried +Amanda, now thoroughly roused.</p> + +<p>"I's tired layin' heah under dis heah spell," +complained Gordon Lee. "I knowed all 'long +'twas a hoodoo, but I neber 'spicioned till to-day +who was 'sponsible fer hit. Aunt Kizzy tried +de test, an', 'fore de Lawd, hit p'inted powerful' + +near home."</p> + +<p>Amanda sank into the one rocking-chair the +cabin boasted, and dropped her hands in her lap. +Her anger had given place for the moment to +sheer amazement.</p> + + +<p>"Well, if this ain't the beatenest thing I ever +heard tell of in all my born days! Do you mean +to say that that honery old cross-eyed nigger +Kizzy had the audacity to set up before my fire, +in my house, an' tell my husband I'd laid a spell +on him?"</p> + +<p>"Dat's whut de signs p'int to," said Gordon +Lee, doggedly.</p> + +<p>Amanda rose, and it seemed to him that she +towered to the ceiling. With hands on hips and +head thrown back, she delivered herself, and her +voice rang with suppressed passion.</p> + +<p>"Yas, I laid a spell on yer! I laid a spell on +yer when I let you quit work, an' lay up in bed +wid nothin' to do but to circulate yer symtems. +I put a spell on yer when I nuss you an' feed +you an' s'port you an' spile the life plumb outen +you. I ain't claimin' 't wasn't rheumatism in +the fust place, but it's a spell now, all right—a +spell I did lay on yer, a spell of laziness pure an' + +simple!"</p> + +<p>After this outburst the relations were decidedly +strained in the little cabin at the far end +of Hurricane Hollow. Gordon Lee persistently + +refused to eat anything his wife cooked for him, +depending upon the food that Aunt Kizzy or +other neighbors brought in.</p> + +<p>To Amanda the humiliation of this was acute. +She used every strategy to conciliate him, +and at last succeeded by bringing home some +pig's feet. His appetite got the better of his +resentment, and he disposed of four with evident +relish.</p> + +<p>With the approach of winter, however, other +and graver troubles developed. The rent of the +cabin, which had always been promptly paid out +of Gordon Lee's wages, had now to come out of +Amanda's limited earnings. Two years' joint +savings had gone to pay the doctor and the +druggist.</p> + +<p>Amanda gave up the joys of club life, and +began to take in small washings, which she did +at night. Gordon Lee, surrounded by every luxury +save that of approbation, continued to lie on +his back in the white bed and nurse his hallucinations.</p> + +<p>"'Mandy," he said one morning as she was +going to work, "wished you'd ast Marse Jim ef + +he got a' ol' pair of pants he could spare me."</p> + +<p>Her face brightened.</p> + +<p>"You fixin' to git up, Honey?" she asked +hopefully.</p> + +<p>"No, I's jes collectin' ob my grave-clothes," +said Gordon Lee. "Dere's a pair ob purple +socks in de bottom drawer, an' a b'iled shirt in +de wardrobe. But I been layin' heah steddyin' +'bout dat shirt. Hit's got Marse Jim's name +on de tail of it, an' s'pose I git to heaben, an' + +St. Peter he read de name an' look hit up in de +jedgment book. He's 'lowable to come to me +an' say, 'Huccome you wearin' dat shirt? Dey +ain't but one James Bartrum writ down in de +book, an' he ain't no colored pusson.' 'Co'se I + +<span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">could</span> explain, but I's got 'splainin' 'nough to +do when I git to heaben widout dat."</p> + +<p>Amanda paused with her hand on the doorknob.</p> + +<p>"Marse Jim'll beat you to heaben; that is, ef +he don't beat you to the bad place first. You +git that idea of dyin' outen yer mind, and you'll +git well."</p> + + +<p>"I can't git well till de hoodoo's lifted. Aunt +Kizzy 'lows—"</p> + +<p>But the door was slammed before he could +finish.</p> + +<p>The limit of Amanda's endurance was reached +about Christmas-time. One gloomy Sunday +afternoon when she had finished the numerous +chores that had accumulated during the week, +she started for the coal-shed to get an armful +of kindling.</p> + +<p>Dusk was coming on, and Hurricane Hollow +had never seemed more lonesome and deserted. +The corn-shocks leaned toward one another as +if they were afraid of a common enemy. Somewhere +down the road a dog howled dismally.</p> + +<p>Amanda resolutely pushed open the door of +the shed, and felt her way toward the pile of +chips. Suddenly she found her progress +blocked by a strange and colossal object. It +was an oblong affair, and it stood on one end, +which was larger than the other. With growing +curiosity she felt its back and sides, and then +peered around it to get a front view. What she + +saw sent her flying back to the cabin with her +mouth open and her limbs shaking.</p> + +<p>"Gordon Lee," she cried, "whose coffin is that +settin' in our coal-shed?"</p> + +<p>The candidate for the next world looked very +much embarrassed.</p> + +<p>"Well, 'Mandy," he began lamely, "I can't +say 'zactly ez hit's any pusson's jes yit. But +hit's gwine be mine when de summons comes."</p> + +<p>"Where'd you git it at?" demanded his Nemesis.</p> + +<p>His eyes shifted guiltily.</p> + +<p>"De foundry boss done been heah las' week, +an' he gimme some money. I 'lowed I was +layin' hit up fer a rainy day."</p> + +<p>"An' you mean to tell me," she cried, "that +you took that money an' spent it for a coffin, a +white one with shiny handles, an' a satin bolster +that'll done be wore out, an' et up by moths, +'fore you ever git a chancet to use it?"</p> + +<p>"Couldn't you fix hit up in terbaccy er mothballs +ag'in' de time I need hit?" Gordon Lee +asked helplessly.</p> + +<p>But Amanda was too exasperated this time to + +argue the matter. Fifty dollars' worth of coffin +in the coal-shed and fifty cents' worth of coal in +the bin constituted a situation that demanded +her entire attention.</p> + +<p>For six months now Gordon Lee had remained +in bed, firm in the belief that he could not walk +on account of the spell that had been laid upon +him. During that time he had come to take a +luxurious satisfaction in the interest his case +was exciting in the neighborhood. Being in +excellent physical condition, he could afford the +melancholy joy of playing with the idea of death. +He spent hours discussing the details of his +funeral, which had assumed in his mind the +proportions of a pageant.</p> + +<p>Amanda, on the other hand, overworked and +anxious, and compelled to forego her lodges and +societies, became more and more irascible and +depressed. In some subtle way she was aware +that the sympathy of the colored community +was solidly with Gordon Lee. Nobody now +asked her how he was. Nobody came to the +cabin when she was there, though it was apparent +that visitors were frequent during her absence. + +Aunt Kizzy had evidently been busy in +the neighborhood.</p> + +<p>One night Amanda sat very long over the +stove rolling her hair into little wads about the +length and thickness of her finger, then tightly +wrapping each with a stout bit of cord to take +out the kink. When Gordon Lee roused himself +now and then to inquire suspiciously what she +was doing, she answered with ominous calm.</p> + +<p>"Jes steddyin', that's all."</p> + +<p>Her meditations evidently resulted in a plan +of action, for the next night she came home from +her work in a most mysterious and unusual +mood. Gordon Lee heard her moving some +heavy and cumbersome article across the kitchen +floor, then he saw her surreptitiously put something +into a tin can before she presented herself +at the foot of his bed.</p> + +<p>"'Mandy," he said, anxious to break the silence, +and distrusting that subdued look of excitement +in her eyes, "did you bring me dat +possum, lak you 'lowed you was gwine to?"</p> + +<p>Her lips tightened.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I got the possum, an' also some apples + +fer a dumplin'; but before I lays a stick to the +fire I'm goin' to say my say."</p> + +<p>Gordon Lee looked at her with consternation. +She stood at the foot of his bed as if it wore a +rostrum, and with an air of detached dignity +addressed him as if he had been the whole Order +of the Sisters of the Star.</p> + +<p>"I done arrive' at a decision," she declared. +"I arrive' at it in the watches of the night. +I'm goin' to cure you 'cordin' to yer lights an' +knowledge. I'm goin' to lif' that spell ef I has +to purge my immortal soul to do it."</p> + +<p>"'Mandy," cried Gordon Lee, eagerly, "you +mean to say you gwine to remove the hoodoo?"</p> + +<p>"I am," she said solemnly. "I'm goin' to +draw out all yer miseries fer the rest of yer +life, <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">includin' of the cricket in yer leg</span>."</p> + +<p>"'Mandy," he cried again fearfully, "you +ain't gwine ter hurt me in no way, is you?"</p> + +<p>"Not effen you do as I tell you. But fust of +all you got to take the pledge of silence. Whatsomever +takes place heah in this cabin to-night +ain't never to be revealed till the jedgment-day. +Do you swear?"</p> + + +<p>The big negro, fascinated with the mystery, +and deeply impressed with his wife's manner, +laid his hand on the Bible and solemnly took the +oath.</p> + +<p>"Now," she continued impressively, "while +I go in the kitchen an' git the supper started, I +want you to ease yerse'f outen the bed on to the +floor, an' lay with yer head to the north an' your +han's outspread, an' yer mind on the heabenly +kingdom."</p> + +<p>"Air you shore hit ain't gwine hurt me?" +again he queried.</p> + +<p>"Not if you do 'zactly like I say. Besides," +she added dryly, "if it comes to the worst, ain't +you ready an' waitin' to go!"</p> + +<p>"Yas," agreed Gordon Lee; "but I ain't +fixin' to go till I's sent fer."</p> + +<p>It took not only time, but courage, for him to +follow the prescribed directions. He had for a +long time cherished the belief that any exertion +would prove fatal; but the prospect of having +the hoodoo removed, together with a lively curiosity +as to what means Amanda would employ + +to remove it, spurred him to persist despite +groans, wheezes, and ejaculations.</p> + +<p>Once stretched upon the floor, with his head +to the north and his arms extended, he encountered +a new difficulty: his mind refused to dwell +upon the heavenly kingdom. Anxiety as to the +treatment he was about to be subjected to alternated +with satisfaction at the savory odors that +floated in from the kitchen. If the ordeal was +uncertain, the reward at least was sure.</p> + +<p>After what seemed to him an endless vigil, +Amanda appeared in the doorway. With measured +steps and great solemnity of mien, she +approached, holding in her right hand a piece of +white chalk.</p> + +<p>"De hour has come," she chanted. "With +this chalk, an' around this man, I make the mark +of his image." Stooping, she began to trace his +outline on the dull rag-carpet, speaking monotonously +as she worked: "Gordon Lee Surrender +Jones, I command all the aches an' the pains, all +the miseries an' fool notions, includin' the +cricket in yer leg, to pass outen yer real body + +into this heah image on the floor. Keep yer +head still, nigger! I pass 'em through you into +yer symbol, an' from thence I draws 'em out to +satisfy yer mind now and forever more, amen. +Now roll over to the right an' watch what's +about to happen."</p> + +<p>The patient by this time was so interested +that he followed instructions mechanically. He +saw Amanda dart into the kitchen and emerge +with an object totally unfamiliar to him. It was +a heavy, box-shaped object, attached to a long +handle. This she placed on the chalked outline +of his right leg. Then she stood with her eyes +fixed on the floor and solemnly chanted:</p> + +<div class="lg"> +<p class="l">"Draw, draw, 'cordin' to the law,</p> +<p class="l">Lif' the hoodoo, now I beg,</p> +<p class="l">An' draw the cricket</p> + +<p class="l">F'om this heah leg!"</p> +</div> + +<p>And Gordon Lee, raised on his elbow, watching +with protruding eyes, <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">heard</span> it draw! He +heard the heavy, panting breathing as Amanda +ran the vacuum cleaner over every inch of the +chalked outline, and when she stopped and, +kneeling beside the box, removed a small bag of + +dust and lint, he was not in the least surprised +to see a cricket jump from the débris.</p> + +<p>"Praise be!" he cried in sudden ecstasy. +"De pain's done lef me, do spell's done lifted!"</p> + +<p>"An' the cricket's done removed," urged +Amanda, skilfully getting the machine out of +sight. "You seen it removed with yer own +eyes."</p> + +<p>"Wid my own eyes," echoed Gordon Lee, still +in a state of self-hypnosis.</p> + +<p>"An' now," she said, "I'm goin' to git that +supper ready jes as quick ez I kin."</p> + +<p>"Ain't you gwine help me back in bed fust?" +he asked from where he still lay on the floor.</p> + +<p>"What fer?" she exclaimed. "Ain't the +spell lifted? I'm goin' to set the table in the +kitchen, an' ef you wants any of that possum an' + +sweet pertater an' that apple-dumplin' an' hard +sass, you got to walk in there to git em."</p> + +<p>For ten minutes Gordon Lee Surrender Jones +lay flat on his back on the floor, trying to trace +the course of human events during the last half-hour. +Against the dim suspicion that Amanda +had in some way outwitted him rose the staggering + +evidence of that very live cricket that still +hopped about the room, chirping contentedly.</p> + +<p>Twice Amanda spoke to him, but he refused +to answer. His silence did not seem to affect +her good spirits, for she continued her work, +singing softly to herself.</p> + +<p>Despite himself, he became aware of the refrain, +and before he knew it he was going over +the familiar words with her:</p> + +<div class="lg"> +<p class="l">"Oh, chicken-pie an 'pepper, oh!</p> +<p class="l">Chicken-pie is good, I know;</p> +<p class="l">So is wattehmillion, too;</p> +<p class="l">So is rabbit in a stew;</p> +<p class="l">So is dumplin's, b'iled with squab;</p> +<p class="l">So is cawn, b'iled on de cob;</p> + +<p class="l">So is chine an' turkey breast;</p> +<p class="l">So is aigs des f'om de nest."</p> +</div> + +<p>Gordon Lee rose unsteadily. Holding to a +chair, he reached the table, then the door, +through which he shambled, and sheepishly took +his old place at the foot of the table. Amanda +outdid herself in serving him, emptying the +larder in honor of the occasion; but neither of +them spoke until the apple-dumpling was + +reached. Then Gordon Lee turned toward her +and said confidentially:</p> + +<p>"I wished we knowed some corpse we could +sell dat coffin to."</p> +</div> + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_6"></a> + +<h2>A Matter Of Friendship</h2> + + +<p>When a jovial young person in irreproachable +pongee, and a wholly reproachable +brown topi, scrambled up the lifting +gang-plank of the big Pacific liner, setting sail +from Yokohama, he was welcomed with acclaim. +The Captain stopped swearing long enough to +megaphone a greeting from the bridge, the First +Officer slapped him on the back, while the half +dozen sailors, tugging at the ropes, grinned as +one man.</p> + +<p>Three months before this good ship <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">East India</span> +had carried Frederick Reynolds out to the Orient +and deposited him on the alien soil, an untried +youth of unimpeachable morals with a +fatal facility for making friends.</p> + +<p>The temporary transplanting had had a +strange and exotic effect. The East has a way +of developing crops of wild oats that have been +neglected in the West, and by the end of his + +sojourn Mr. Frederick Reynolds had seen more, +felt more, and lived more than in all of his previous +twenty-four years put together. He had +learned the difference between a "straight +flush" and a "full house" under the palms at +Raffles Hotel in Singapore; he had been instructed +in the ways of the wise in Shanghai by +a sophisticated attaché of the French Legation, +who imparted his knowledge between sips of +absinthe, as he looked down on the passing show +from a teahouse on the Bubbling Well Road; he +had rapturously listened to every sweet secret +that Japan had to tell, and had left a wake of +smiles from Nagasaki to Yokohama.</p> + +<p>In fact, in three short months he was fully +qualified to pass a connoisseur's judgment on a +high-ball, to hold his own in a game of poker, +and to carry on a fairly coherent flirtation in +four different languages.</p> + +<p>With this newly acquired wisdom he was now +setting sail for home, having accomplished his +downward career with such alacrity that he did +not at all realize what had happened to him.</p> + +<p>Nor did the return voyage promise much in + +the way of silent meditation and timely repentance. +The Captain placed Reynolds next to +him at table, declaring that he was like an electric +fan on a sultry day; the Purser, with the +elasticity of conscience peculiar to pursers, +moved him from the inexpensive inside room +which he had engaged, to a spacious state-room +on the promenade deck, where sufficient corks +were drawn nightly to make a small life preserver.</p> + +<p>The one person who watched these proceedings +with disfavor was a short, attenuated, bow-legged +Chinaman, with a face like a grotesque +brass knocker, and a taciturnity that enveloped +him like a fog.</p> + +<p>On the voyage out, Tsang Foo, the assistant +deck steward, had gotten into a fight with a +brother Chinaman, and had been saved from +dismissal by Reynolds's timely intercession at +headquarters. In dumb gratitude for this service, +he had laid his celestial soul at the feet of +the young American and sworn eternal allegiance.</p> + +<p>From the day Reynolds reëmbarked, Tsang's + +silken, slippered feet silently followed him from +smoking-room to bar, from bar back to smoking-room. +Whatever emotion troubled the depths +of his being, no sign of it rose to his ageless, +youthless face. But whether he was silently +performing his duties on deck, or sitting on the +hatchway smoking his opium, his vigilant eyes +from their long, narrow slits kept watch.</p> + +<p>For thirteen days the sun sparkled on the +blue waters of the Pacific, and favoring breezes +gave every promise of landing the <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">East India</span> +in port with the fastest record of the season. +Bets went higher and higher on each day's running, +and the excitement was intense each evening +in the smoking-room when the numbers +most likely to win the next day's pool were auctioned +off to the highest bidder.</p> + +<p>It was the afternoon of the fourteenth day, +thirty-six hours out from San Francisco, that +Mr. Frederick Reynolds, who had bet more, +drunk more, talked more, and laughed more than +any man on board, suddenly came to his full +senses. Then it was that he went quietly to his +luxurious state-room with its brass bed and + +crimson hangings, and took a forty-two caliber +revolver from his steamer trunk. Slipping a +cartridge into the cylinder, he sat breathing +heavily and staring impatiently before him.</p> + +<p>From outside above the roar of the ocean, +came the tramp of the passengers on deck, and +the trivial scraps of conversation that floated in +kept side-tracking his thoughts, preventing their +reaching the desired destination.</p> + +<p>The world, which he had sternly resolved to +leave, seemed determined to stay with him as +long as possible. He heard Glass, the actor, +inquiring for him, and in spite of himself he +felt flattered; he heard the pretty girl whose +steamer chair was next his, make a conditional +engagement with the high-voiced army-officer, +and he knew why she left the matter open; even +a plaintive old voice inquiring how long it would +be before tea, caused him to wait for the answer.</p> + +<p>At last, as if to present his misery in embodied +form, he produced a note-book and tried to +concentrate his attention upon the items therein +recorded. Line after line of wavering figures +danced in impish glee before him, defying inspection. + +But at the foot of the column, like +soldiers waiting to shoot a prisoner, stood four +formidable units unquestionably pointing his +way to doom.</p> + +<p>As be looked at them Reynolds's thoughts got +back on the main track and rushed to a conclusion. +Tearing the leaf from the book, and +crushing it in his hand, he jumped to his feet. +Seized with a fury of self-disgust, he pulled +off his coat and collar, and with the reckless +courage of a boy put the mouth of the revolver +to his temple.</p> + +<p>As he did so the room darkened. He involuntarily +looked up. Framed in the circle of the +port-hole were the head and shoulders of Tsang +Foo. Not a muscle of the yellow face moved, +not a tremor of the slanting eyelids showed surprise. +The right hand, holding a bit of tow, +mechanically continued polishing the brass +around the port-hole, but the left—long, thin, +and with claw-like nails, shot stealthily forward +and snatched the pistol.</p> + +<p>For a full minute the polishing continued, +then face and figure vanished, and Reynolds + +was left staring in impotent rage at the empty +port-hole.</p> + +<p>When the room steward appeared in answer +to an imperative summons, he was directed to +send Tsang Foo to room No. 7 at once.</p> + +<p>Tsang came almost immediately, bearing tea +and anchovy sandwiches, which he urbanely +placed on a camp-stool.</p> + +<p>"Where's my pistol?" demanded Reynolds +hotly, holding to the door to steady himself.</p> + +<p>Tsang's eyes, earnest as a dog's, were lifted +to his:</p> + +<p>"He fall overboard," he explained suavely, +"me velly solly."</p> + +<p>Reynolds impulsively lifted his arm to strike, +but a second impulse, engulfing the first, made +him turn and fling himself upon his berth, struggling +to master the heavy sobs that shook him +from head to foot.</p> + +<p>The Chinaman softly closed the door and +slipped the bolt, then he dropped to a sitting +posture on the floor and waited.</p> + +<p>When the squall had passed, Reynolds addressed +his companion from the depths of the + +pillows in language suited to his comprehension.</p> + +<p>"Me belong large fool, Tsang!" he said savagely. +"Have drink too much. No good. You +go 'long, I'm all right now."</p> + +<p>Tsang's eye swept the disordered room and +returned to the figure on the bed. "Suppose +me go," he said, "you makee one hole in head?"</p> + +<p>"That's my business," said Reynolds, his +wrath rekindling. "You go 'long, and get my +pistol; there's a good chap."</p> + +<p>Tsang did not stir; he sat with his hands +clasped about his knees, and contemplated space +with the abstract look of a Buddha gazing into +Nirvana.</p> + +<p>Reynolds passed from persuasion to profanity +with no satisfactory result. His language, +whether eloquent or fiery, beat upon an unresponsive +ear. But being in that condition that +demands sympathy, he found the mere talking a +relief, and presently drifted into a recital of his +woes.</p> + +<p>"I'm up against it, in the hole, you know, +much largee trouble," he amplified with many +gestures, sitting on the side of his berth, and + +pounding out excited, incoherent phrases to the +impassive figure opposite. "Company sent me +out to collect money. My have spent all. No +can go back home. Suppose my lose face, more +better die!"</p> + +<p>Tsang shifted his position and nodded +gravely. Out of much that was unintelligible, +the last statement loomed clear and incontrovertible.</p> + +<p>"I'm a thief!" burst out Reynolds passionately, +not to Tsang now, but to the world at +large, "a plain, common thief. And the worst +of it is there isn't a man in that San Francisco +office that doesn't trust me down to the ground. +Then there's the Governor. O God! I can't +face the Governor!"</p> + +<p>Tsang sat immovable, lost in thought. Stray +words and phrases helped, but it was by some +subtle working of his own complex brain that +he was arriving at the truth.</p> + +<p>"Father, him no can lend money?" he suggested +presently.</p> + +<p>"The Governor? Good heavens, no. There's +not enough money in our whole family to wad a + +gun! They put up all they had to give me a +start, and look where I have landed! Do you +suppose I'd go back and ask them to put up a +thousand more for my rotten foolishness?" He +knotted his hands together until the nails grew +white then, seeing the unenlightened face below, +he added emphatically: "No, no, Tsang, no +can askee!"</p> + +<p>"How fashion you losee money!" asked +Tsang.</p> + +<p>"The money? Oh, belong gamble. Bet on +ship's run. First day—win. Second day—win. +Then lose, lose, keep on losing. Didn't +know half the time what I was doing. To-day +my settle up; no can pay office. A thousand +dollars out! Lord! All same two thousand +Mex', Tsang!"</p> + +<p>An invisible calculation was made on the end +of the steamer trunk by a long, pointed, fingernail, +but no change of expression crossed the +yellow face. For an incalculable time Tsang +sat, lost in thought. All his conserved energy +went to aid him in solving the problem. At last +he reached a decision: this was clearly a case to + +be laid before the only god be knew, the god of +Chance.</p> + +<p>"Me gamble too," he said; "me no lose."</p> + +<p>"But s'pose you <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">had</span> lost? S'pose you lose +what no belong you? What thing you do?"</p> + +<p>"You do all same my talkee you?" asked +Tsang, for the first time lifting his eyes.</p> + +<p>It was a slender straw, to be sure, but Reynolds +grasped at it.</p> + +<p>"What thing you mean, Tsang? What can +I do?"</p> + +<p>"Two more night' to San Flancisco," said +Tsang softly; "one more bet, maybe!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I've thought of that. What's the good +of throwing good money after bad? No use, I +no got chance."</p> + +<p>"<span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">My</span> have got chance," announced Tsang emphatically, +"you bet how fashion my talkee you, +your money come back."</p> + +<p>Reynolds studied the brass knocker of a face, +but found no clue to the riddle. "What you +mean, Tsang?" he asked. "What do you +know? For the Lord's sake don't fool with me +about it!"</p> + + +<p>"Me no fool," declared Tsang. "You le' +me talkee number, him win big heap money."</p> + +<p>"But how do you know?"</p> + +<p>"Me savey," said Tsang enigmatically.</p> + +<p>Again Reynolds studied the impassive face. +"It's on the square, Tsang? You don't stand +in with anybody below decks? The thing is on +the level?" Then finding further elucidation +necessary, he added, "No belong cheat!"</p> + +<p>Tsang Foo shook his head positively. "No +belong cheat, all belong ploper. No man savey, +only me savey, this side," and he tapped his +head significantly.</p> + +<p>Reynolds gave a short, unpleasant laugh. +"All right," he said, thrusting his hand in his +pocket. "I'll give myself one more chance. +There'll be time to-morrow to finish my job. +I'll make a bargain with you, Tsang! Bet this, +and this, and this, on the next run for me. You +win, I no makee shoot; you lose, you promise +bring back pistol, then go way. My can do +what thing my wantchee, see?"</p> + +<p>Tsang Foo looked at him cunningly: "I win, + +you belong good boy? Stop whisky-soda, +maybe?"</p> + +<p>Reynolds laughed in spite of himself: "Going +to reform me, oh? All right, it's a bargain."</p> + +<p>Tsang allowed his hand to be shaken, then he +carefully counted over the express checks that +had been given to him.</p> + +<p>"My go now," he announced as eight bells +sounded from the bridge.</p> + +<p>As the door closed Reynolds sighed, then his +eyes brightened as they fell upon the sandwiches. +Even a desperate young man on the +verge of suicide if he is hungry must needs +cheer up temporarily at the sight of food. +Reynolds had taken an early breakfast after being +up all night, and had eaten nothing since. +After devouring the sandwiches and tea with +relish, he ordered a hot bath, and in less than +an hour was wrapped in his berth sleeping the +sleep that is not confined to the righteous.</p> + +<p>It was high noon the next day when he awoke. +His first feeling was one of exhilaration: the +long sleep, the fresh sea air pouring in at the + +port-hole, and a sense of perfect physical well-being +had made him forget, for a moment, the +serious business the day might have in store for +him.</p> + +<p>As he lay, half dozing, he became dimly aware +that something was wrong. The throb of the +engines had ceased, and an ominous stillness +prevailed. He sat up in bed and listened, then +he thrust his head out of the port-hole, only to +see a deserted deck. The passage was likewise +deserted save for a hurried stewardess, who +called back, over her shoulder, "It's a man overboard, +sir, on the starboard side—"</p> + +<p>Reynolds flung on his clothes. The boy in +him was keen for excitement, and in five minutes +he was on deck, and had joined the crowd of +passengers that thronged the railing.</p> + +<p>The life-boat was being lowered, groaning and +protesting as it cleared the davits and swung +away from the ship's side. Far behind, in the +still shining wake of the steamer, a small black +object bobbed helplessly in the gray expanse of +waters.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" "Did he fall overboard!" + +"Did he jump in?" "Was it suicide?" +The air buzzed with questions. The +sentimental contingent clung to the theory that +it was some poor stoker who could no longer +stand the heat, or a foreign refugee afraid to +come into port. The more practical argued that +it was probably one of the seamen who, while +doing outside painting, had lost his balance and +fallen into the sea.</p> + +<p>A smug, well-dressed man, with close-cropped +gray beard, and a detached gaze that seemed +to go no further than his rimless glasses, turned +and spoke to Reynolds:</p> + +<p>"It has gotten to be quite the fashion for +somebody in the steerage to create this sort of +sensation. It happened as I went over. If a +man sees fit to jump overboard, all well and +good; in nine cases out of ten it's a good riddance +to the community. But why in Heaven's +name should the steamer put back? Why +should several hundred people be delayed an +hour or so for the sake of an inconsiderate, useless +fool?"</p> + +<p>Reynolds turned away sickened. From a + +point, apart from the rest, he strained his eyes +to keep in sight the small black object now hidden, +now revealed, by the waves. A fierce sense +of kinship for that man in the water seized him. +He, too, perhaps had grappled with some unendurable +situation and been overcome. What +if he was an utterly worthless asset on the +great human ledger? He was a fellow-being, +suffering, tempted, vanquished. Was it kind to +bring him back, to go through with it all +again?</p> + +<p>For answer Reynolds's muscles strained with +those of the sailors rowing below: all the life +and youth in him rose in rebellion against unnecessary +death. He watched with teeth hard +set as the small boat climbed to the crest of a +wave, then plunged into the trough again, crawling +by imperceptible inches toward the bobbing +spot in the water. He longed to be in the boat, +in the water even, helping to save that human +life that only on the verge of extinction had +gained significance. What if the man wished +to die? No matter, he must be saved, saved +from himself, given another chance, made to + +face it out, whatever it was. Not until then did +Reynolds remember another life that be had +dared to threaten, that even now he meant to +take if the wheel of chance swung against him. +Suddenly he faced the awful judgment of his +own act, and shuddered back as one who, standing +upon a precipice, trembles in terror before +the mad desire to leap.</p> + +<p>"I'll stick it out!" he said half aloud as if in +promise. "Whatever comes, I'll take my medicine, +I'll—"</p> + +<p>An eager murmur swept through the crowd. +A sailor with a rope about him was being lowered +from the life-boat.</p> + +<p>For five tense minutes the two men rose and +fell at the mercy of the high waves, and the distance +between them did not lessen by an inch.</p> + +<p>Then a passenger with a binocular announced +that the sailor was swimming around to the far +side to get the man between him and the boat.</p> + +<p>With long, steady, overhand strokes, the +sailor was gaining his way, and when at last he +reached the apparently motionless object and +got a rope under its arms, and the two were + +hauled into the life-boat, a rousing cheer went +up from the big steamer above.</p> + +<p>Reynolds drew in his breath sharply and +turned away from the railing. As he did so he +was hailed by a group of friends who were returning +to their cards, waiting face downward +on the small tables in the smoking-room.</p> + +<p>"Behold His Nibs!" shouted Glass, the actor, +"the luckiest duffer that ever hit a high-ball!"</p> + +<p>"How did you happen to do it?" cried another.</p> + +<p>Reynolds lifted his hand to his bewildered +head. "Do what?" he asked dully. "I'm not +on."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come!" said Glass, shaking him by the +shoulder; "that bet you sent in last night! +When the Chink said you wanted to buy the low +field for all six pools, and to bet five hundred to +boot that you'd win, I thought you were either +drunk or crazy. Yesterday's run was four-fifty-one, +a regular corker, and yet with even +better weather conditions, you took only the +numbers below four-thirty-one. I argued with +the Chinaman 'til I was blue in the face, but he + +stood pat, said, you were all right, and had told +him what to do. Nothing but an accident could +have saved you, and it arrived. You've won +the biggest pool of the crossing, don't you think +it's about time for you to set 'em up? Say Martini +cocktails for the crowd, eh?"</p> + +<p>Reynolds was jostled about in congratulation +and good-humored banter. Everybody was +glad of the boy's success, he was an all round +favorite, and some of the men who had won his +money felt relieved to return it.</p> + +<p>"Here's your cocktail, Freddy," cried Glass, +"and here's to you!"</p> + +<p>Reynolds stood in the midst of the crowd, his +face flushed, his hair tumbled. With a quick +movement he sent the glass and its contents +spinning out of a near-by port-hole.</p> + +<p>"Not for Frederick!" he said with emphasis, +"I've been that particular kind of a fool for +the last time."</p> + +<p>Some hours later when the crowd went below +to dress for dinner, Reynolds dropped behind +to ask the Second Officer about the man who +had been rescued.</p> + + +<p>"He is still pretty full of salt water," said +the Officer, "but he is being bailed out."</p> + +<p>"How did it happen?" asked Reynolds.</p> + +<p>"Give it up. He hasn't spoken yet. It looks +as if he were getting ready to do some outside +cleaning, for he had on a life-preserver. Funny +thing about it, though, that's not his work. +He's not even on duty during the starboard +watch. The man in the lookout saw him climb +out on the bow, shout something up to him, then +fall backward into the water. I'll be hanged +if I can make it out. Tsang Foo is one of the +steadiest sailors on board."</p> + +<p>"Tsang Foo!" shouted Reynolds. "You +don't mean that man was Tsang?"</p> + +<p>With headlong haste he seized the bewildered +officer and made him pilot him below decks. +Stumbling down the ladders and through dark +passages, he at last reached the bunk where +Tsang Foo lay with the ship's surgeon and a +steward in attendance.</p> + +<p>The Chinaman's lips were drawn tightly back +over his prominent teeth, and his breath came +in irregular gasps. Across the pillow in a + +straight black line lay his dripping queque. As +his eyelids fluttered feebly, the doctor straightened +his own tired back.</p> + +<p>"He'll come round now, all right," he said +to the steward. "Give him those drops and +don't talk to him. He's had a close call. I'll +be back in ten minutes."</p> + +<p>Reynolds crowded into the narrow apace the +doctor had left. The fact that he was saved +from disgrace was utterly blotted out by the bigger +fact that this ignorant, uncouth, foreign +sailor had fearlessly risked his life to save him +from facing a merited punishment. Reynolds's +very soul seemed to grow bigger to accommodate +the thought.</p> + +<p>"Tsang!" he whispered, seizing the yellow +hand, "You are a brick! Number one good +man. But my no can take money,—I—"</p> + +<p>The steward in attendance, who had stepped +aside, made a warning gesture and laid his finger +on his lips.</p> + +<p>For five minutes the man in the bunk and the +one beside it looked silently into each other's +eyes, then the drawn lips moved, and Reynolds, + +bending his head to listen, heard the broken +question:</p> + +<p>"You—no—blake—bargain?"</p> + +<p>Reynolds's mind dashed at two conclusions +and recoiled from each. Should be follow his +impulse to explain the whole affair, serious consequences +would result for Tsang, while the +other alternative of accepting the situation +made him a party, albeit an innocent one, to a +most reprehensible proceeding. It was to his +credit, that of the two courses the latter was infinitely +the more intolerable. He got up nervously, +then sat down again.</p> + +<p>"No—blake—bargain!" repeated Tsang anxiously.</p> + +<p>Still Reynolds waited for some prompting +from a conscience unaccustomed to being rusty. +Any course that would involve the loyal little +Chinaman, who had played the game according +to the rules as he knew them, was out of the +question. The money must be paid back, of +course, but how, and when? If he cleared himself +at the office it might be years before he +could settle this new debt, but he could do it in + +time, he must do it. Then at last, light came +to him. He would accept Tsang's sacrifice but +it should stand for more than the mere material +good it had purchased. It should pledge +him to a fresh start, a clean life. He would +justify the present by the future. He drew a +deep breath of relief and leaned forward:</p> + +<p>"Tsang," he said, and his voice trembled +with the earnestness of his resolve, "I no break +bargain. From now on my behave all same +proper. It wasn't right, old fellow, you +oughtn't—" then he gave it up and smiled helplessly, +"you belong my good friend Tsang, what +thing you wantchee?"</p> + +<p>A slow smile broke the brass-like stillness of +Tsang Foo's face:</p> + +<p>"Pipe," he gasped softly, "opium velly good,—make +land and sea—all same—by an' by!"</p> + +</div> + + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_7"></a> + +<h2>The Wild Oats Of A Spinster</h2> + + +<p>Judging from appearances Miss Lucinda +Perkins was justifying her reason for being +by conforming absolutely to her environment. +She apparently fitted as perfectly into +her little niche in the Locustwood Seminary +for young ladies as Miss Joe Hill fitted into +hers. The only difference was that Miss Joe +Hill did not confine herself to a niche; she filled +the seminary, as a plump hand does a tight +glove.</p> + +<p>It was the year after Miss Lucinda had come +to the seminary to teach elocution that Miss Joe +Hill discovered in her an affinity. As principal, +Miss Joe Hill's word was never questioned, +and Miss Lucinda, with pleased obedience, accepted +the honor that was thrust upon her, and +meekly moved her few belongings into Miss Joe +Hill's apartment.</p> + +<p>For four years they had lived in the rarified + +atmosphere of celestial friendship. They +clothed their bodies in the same raiment, and +their minds in the same thoughts, and when one +was cold the other shivered.</p> + +<p>If Miss Lucinda, in those early days found it +difficult to live up to Miss Joe Hill's transcendental +code she gave no sign of it. She laid +aside her mildly adorned garments and enveloped +her small angular person in a garb of +sombre severity. Even the modest bird that +adorned her hat was replaced by an uncompromising +band. She foreswore meat and became +a vegetarian. She stopped reading novels +and devoted her spare time to essays and biography. +In fact she and Miss Joe Hill became +one and that one was Miss Joe Hill.</p> + +<p>It was not until Floss Speckert entered the +senior class at Locustwood Seminary that this +sublimated friendship suffered a jar.</p> + +<p>Floss's father lived in Chicago, and it was +due to his unerring discernment in the buying +and selling of live stock that Floss was being +"finished" in all branches without regard to +the cost.</p> + + +<p>"Learn her all you want to," he said magnanimously +to Miss Lucinda, who negotiated the +arrangement. "I ain't got but two children, +her and Tom. He's just like me—don't know a +blame thing but business; but Floss—" his +bosom swelled under his checked vest—"she's +on to it all. I pay for everything you get into +her head. Dancin', singin', French—all them +extries goes."</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda had consequently undertaken +the management of Floss Speckert, and the result +had been far-reaching in its consequences.</p> + +<p>Floss was a person whose thoughts did not +dwell upon the highest development of the +spiritual life. Her mind was given over to the +pursuit of worldly amusements, her only serious +thought being a burning ambition to win +histrionic honors. The road to this led naturally +through the elocution classes, and Floss +accepted Miss Lucinda as the only means toward +the desired end.</p> + +<p>A drop of water in a bottle of ink produces +no visible result, but a drop of ink in a glass of +water contaminates it at once. Miss Lucinda + +took increasing interest in her frivolous young +pupil; she listened with half-suppressed eagerness +to unlimited gossip about stage-land, and +even sank to the regular perusal of certain bold +theatrical papers. She was unmistakably becoming +contaminated.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Miss Joe Hill, quite blind to the +situation, condoned the friendship. "You are +developing your own character," she told Miss +Lucinda. "You are exercising self-control and +forbearance in dealing with that crude, undisciplined +girl. Florence is the natural outcome +of common stock and newly acquired riches. It +is your noble aspiration to take this vulgar clay +and mold it into something higher. Your motive +is laudable, Lucinda; your self-sacrifice in +giving up our evening hour together is heroic. +I read you like an open book, dear."</p> + +<p>And Miss Lucinda listened and trembled. +They were standing together before the window +of their rigid little sitting room, the chastened +severity of which banished all ideas of comfort. +"What purpose do you serve?" Miss Joe Hill +demanded of every article that went into her + +apartment, and many of the comforts of life +failed to pass the examination.</p> + +<p>After Miss Joe Hill had gone out, Miss Lucinda +remained at the window and restlessly +tapped her knuckles against the sill. The insidious +spring sunshine, the laughter of the girls +in the court below, the foolish happy birds telling +their secrets under the new, green leaves, +all worked together to disturb her peace of mind.</p> + +<p>She resolutely turned her back to the window +and took breathing exercises. That was one of +Miss Joe Hill's sternest requirements—fifteen +minutes three times a day and two pints of +water between meals. Then she sat down in a +straight-back chair and tried to read "The +Power Through Poise." Her body was doing +its duty, but it did not deceive her mind. She +knew that she was living a life of black deception; +evidences of her guilt were on every hand. +Behind the books on her little shelf was a paper +of chocolate creams; in the music rack, back to +back with Grieg and Brahms, was an impertinent +sheet of ragtime which Floss had persuaded +her to learn as an accompaniment. And + +deeper and darker and falser than all was a +plan which had been fermenting in her mind +for days.</p> + +<p>In a fortnight the school term would be over. +Following the usual custom, Miss Lucinda was +to go to her brother in the country and Miss +Joe Hill to her sister for a week. This obligation +to their respective families being discharged, +they would repair to the seclusion of +a Catskill farmhouse, there to hang upon each +other's souls for the rest of the summer.</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda's visits to her brother were +reminiscent of a multiplicity of children and a +scarcity of room. To her the Inferno presented +no more disquieting prospect than the necessity +of sharing her bedroom. She always returned +from these sojourns in the country with impaired +digestion, and shattered nerves. She +looked forward to them with dread and looked +back on them with horror. Was it any wonder +that when a brilliant alternative presented itself +she was eager to accept it?</p> + +<p>Floss Speckert had gained her father's consent +to spend her first week out of school in + +New York provided she could find a suitable +chaperon. She had fallen upon the first and +most harmless person in sight and besieged +her with entreaties.</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda would have flared to the project +had not a forbidding presence loomed between +her and the alluring invitation. She knew only +too well that Miss Joe Hill would never countenance +the proposition.</p> + +<p>As she sat trying vainly to concentrate on +her "Power Through Poise," she was startled +by a noise at the window, followed immediately +by a dishevelled figure that scrambled laughingly +over the sill.</p> + +<p>"I came down the fire escape!" whispered the +invader breathlessly, "Miss Joe Hill caught us +making fudge in the linen closet, and I gave her +the slip."</p> + +<p>"But Florence!" Miss Lucinda began reproachfully, +but Floss interrupted her:</p> + +<p>"Don't 'Florence' me, Miss Lucy! You're +just pretending to be mad anyhow. You are a +perfect darling and Miss Joe Hill is an old +bear!"</p> + + +<p>Miss Lucinda was aghast at this irreverence +but her halting protests had no effect on the +torrent of Floss's eloquence.</p> + +<p>"I am going to take you to New York," the +girl declared "and I am going to give you the +time of your life! Dad's got to put us up in +style—a room and a bath apiece and maybe a +sitting room. He likes me to splurge around a +bit, says he'd hate to have a daughter that acted +like she wasn't used to money."</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda glanced apprehensively at the +door and then back at the sparkling face before +her.</p> + +<p>"I can't go," she insisted miserably, trying +to free her hand from Floss's plump grasp. +"My brother is expecting me and Miss Hill—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, bother Miss Joe Hill! You don't have +to tell her anything about it! You can pretend +you are going to your brother's and meet me +some place on the road instead."</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda looked horrified, but she listened. +A material kept plastic by years of +manipulation does not harden to a new hand. + +Her objections to Floss's plan grew fainter and +fainter.</p> + +<p>"Think of the theaters," went on the temptress, +putting an arm around her neck, and +ignoring the fact that caresses embarrassed +Miss Lucinda almost to the point of tears; +"think of it! A new show every night, and +operas and pictures. There will be three +Shakspere plays that week, 'Merchant of Venice,' +'Twelfth Night,' and 'Hamlet.'"</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda's heart fluttered in her bosom. +Although she had spent a great part of her life +interpreting the Bard of Avon, she had never +seen one of his plays produced. In her secret +soul she believed that her own rendition of +"The quality of mercy," was not to be excelled.</p> + +<p>"I—I haven't any clothes," she urged feebly, +putting up her last defense.</p> + +<p>"I have," declared Floss in triumph—"two +trunks full, and we are almost the same size. +It's just for a week, Miss Lucy; won't you +come?"</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda, sitting rigid, felt a warm + +cheek pressed against her own, and a stray curl +touched her lips. She sat for a moment with +her eyes closed. It was more than disconcerting +to be so close to youth and joy and life; it +was infectious. The blood surged suddenly +through her veins, and an exultation seized her.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to do it," she cried recklessly; +"I never had a real good time in my life."</p> + +<p>Floss threw her arms about her and waltzed +her across the room, but a step in the hall +brought them to a halt.</p> + +<p>"It's Miss Joe Hill," whispered Floss, with +trepidation; "I am going out the way I came. +Don't you forget; you have promised."</p> + +<p>When Miss Joe Hill entered, she smiled complacently +at finding Miss Lucinda in the +straight-back chair, absorbed in the second +volume of the "Power Through Poise."</p> + +<p>At the Union Depot in Chicago, two weeks +later, a small, nervous lady fluttered uncertainly +from one door to another. She wore a short, +brown coat suit of classic severity, and a felt + +hat which was fastened under her smoothly +braided hair by a narrow elastic band.</p> + +<p>On her fourth trip to the main entrance she +stopped a train-boy. "Can you tell me where I +can get a drink?" she asked, fanning her flushed +face. He looked surprised. "Third door to +the left," he answered. Miss Lucinda, carrying +a hand-bag, a suit-case, and an umbrella, +followed directions. When she pushed open the +heavy door she was confronted by a long counter +with shining glasses and a smiling bartender. +Beating a confused retreat, she fled back to +the main entrance, and stood there trembling. +For the hundredth time that day she wished +she had not come.</p> + +<p>The arrangements, so glibly planned by Floss, +had not been adhered to in any particular. At +the last moment that mercurial young person +had decided to go on two days in advance and +visit a friend in Philadelphia. She wrote Miss +Lucinda to come on to Chicago, where Tom +would meet her and give her her ticket, and that +she would meet her in New York.</p> + + +<p>With many misgivings and grievous twinges +of conscience, Miss Lucinda had bade Miss Joe +Hill a guilty farewell, and started ostensibly +for her brother's home. At the Junction she +changed cars for Chicago, missed two connections, +and lost her lunch-box. Now that she had +arrived In Chicago, three hours late, nervous +and excited over her experiences, there was no +one to meet her.</p> + +<p>A sense of homesickness rushed over her, and +she decided to return to Locustwood. It was +the same motive that might prompt a newly +hatched chicken, embarrassed by its sudden liberty, +to return to its shell. Just as she was going +in search of a time-table, a round-faced +young man came up.</p> + +<p>"Miss Perkins?" he asked, and when she +nodded, he went on: "Been looking for you for +half an hour. Sis told me what you looked like, +but I couldn't find you." He failed to observe +that Floss's comparison had been a squirrel.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it nearly time to start?" asked Miss +Lucinda, nervously.</p> + +<p>"Just five minutes; but I want to explain + +something to you first." He looked through +the papers in his pocket and selected one. +"This is a pass," he explained; "the governor +can get them over this road. I got there late, +so I could only get one that had been made out +for somebody else and not been used. It's all +right, you know; you won't have a bit of +trouble."</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda took the bit of paper, put on +her glasses, and read, "Mrs. Lura Doring."</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Tom; "that's the lady it was +made out for. Nine chances out of ten they +won't mention it; but if anything comes up, you +just say yes, you are Mrs. Doring, and it will +be all right."</p> + +<p>"But," protested Miss Lucinda, ready to +weep, "I cannot tell a falsehood."</p> + +<p>"I don't think you'll have to," said Tom, +somewhat impatiently; "but if you deny it, +you'll get us both into no end of a scrape. +Hello! there's the call for your train. I'll bring +your bag."</p> + +<p>In the confusion of getting settled in her section, +and of expressing her gratitude to Tom, + +Miss Lucinda forgot for the time the deadly +weight of guilt that rested upon her. It was +not until the conductor called for her ticket that +her heart grew cold, and a look of consternation +swept over her face. It seemed to her that he +eyed the pass suspiciously and when he did not +return it a terror seized her. She knew he was +coming back to ask her name, and what was her +name? Mrs. Dora Luring, or Mrs. Dura Loring, +or Mrs. Lura Doring?</p> + +<p>In despair she fled to the dressing room and +stood there concealed by the curtains. In a +few moments the conductor passed, and she +peeped at his retreating figure. He stopped in +the narrow passage by the window and studied +her pass, then he compared it with a telegram +which he held in his hand. Just then the porter +joined him, and she flattened herself against the +wall and held her breath.</p> + +<p>"It's the same name," she heard the conductor +say in an undertone. "I'll wire back to +headquarters at the next stop."</p> + +<p>If ever retribution followed an erring soul, it +followed Miss Lucinda on that trip. No one + +spoke to her, and nothing happened, but she sat +in terrified suspense, looking neither to right +nor left, her heart beating frantically at every +approach, and the whirring wheels repeating +the questioning refrain, "Dora Luring? Dura +Loring? Lura Doring?"</p> + +<p>In New York, Floss met her as she stepped +off the train, fairly enveloping her in her enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>"Here you are, you old darling! I have +been having a fit a minute for fear you wouldn't +come. This is my Cousin May. She is going +to stay with us the whole week. New York is +simply heavenly, Miss Lucy. We have made +four engagements already. Matinée this afternoon, +a dinner to-night—What's the matter? +Did you leave anything on the train?"</p> + +<p>"No, no," stammered Miss Lucinda, still +casting furtive glances backward at the conductor. +"Was he talking to a policeman?" she +asked suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Who?"</p> + +<p>"The conductor."</p> + +<p>The girls laughed.</p> + + +<p>"I don't wonder you were scared," said +Floss; "a policeman always does remind me of +Miss Joe Hill."</p> + +<p>They called a cab and, to Miss Lucinda's vast +relief, were soon rolling away from the scene +of danger.</p> + +<br> + +<p>It needed only one glance into a handsome +suite of an up-town hotel one week later to prove +the rapid moral deterioration of the prodigal.</p> + +<p>Arrayed in a shell-pink kimono, she was having +her nails manicured. Her gaily figured garment +was sufficient in itself to give her an unusual +appearance; but there was a more startling +reason.</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda's hair, hitherto a pale drab +smoothly drawn into a braided coil at the back, +had undergone a startling metamorphosis. It +was Floss's suggestion that Miss Lucinda wash +it in "Golden Glow," a preparation guaranteed +to restore luster and beauty to faded locks. +Miss Lucinda had been over-zealous, and the +result was that of copper in sunshine.</p> + +<p>These outward manifestations, however, were + +insignificant compared with the evidences of +Miss Lucinda's inner guilt. She was taking the +keenest interest in the manicure's progress, +only lifting her eyes occasionally to survey herself +with satisfaction in the mirror opposite.</p> + +<p>At first her sense of propriety had been deeply +offended by her changed appearance. She wept +so bitterly that the girls, seeking to console her, +had overdone the matter.</p> + +<p>"I never thought you <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">could</span> look so pretty," +Floss had declared; "you look ten years +younger. It makes your eyes brighter and your +skin clearer. Of course this awfully bright color +will wear off, and then it will be just dear."</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda began to feel better; she even +allowed May to arrange her changed locks in a +modest pompadour.</p> + +<p>The week she had spent in New York was a +riotous round of dissipation. May's fiancé had +prepared a whirlwind of pleasures, and Miss +Lucinda was caught up and revolved at a pace +that made her dizzy. Dances, dinners, plays, +roof-gardens, coaching parties, were all held together +by a line of candy, telegrams, and roses.</p> + + +<p>There was only one time in the day when Miss +Lucinda came down to earth. Every evening, +no matter how exhausted she might he from the +frivolities of the day, she conscientiously penned +an affectionate letter to her celestial affinity, expressing +her undying devotion, and incidentally +mentioning the health and doings of her +brother's family. These she sent under separate +cover to her brother to be mailed.</p> + +<p>Her conscience assured her that the reckoning +would come, that sooner or later she would +face the bar of justice and receive the verdict +of guilty; but while one day of grace remained, +she would still "in the fire of spring, her winter +garments of repentance fling."</p> + +<p>As the manicure put the finishing touch to +her nails, Floss came rushing in:</p> + +<p>"Hurry up, Miss Lucy dear! Dick Benson +has just 'phoned that he is going to take us for +a farewell frolic. We leave here at five, have +dinner somewhere, then do all sorts of stunts. +You are going to wear my tan coat-suit and +light blue waist. Yes, you are, too! That's all +foolishness; everybody wears elbow-sleeves. + +Blue's your color, and I've got the hat to match. +May says she'll fix your hair, and you can wear +her French-heel Oxfords again. They pitch +you over? Oh, nonsense! you just tripped along +the other day like a nice little jay-bird. Hurry, +hurry!"</p> + +<p>Even Miss Lucinda's week of strenuous living +had not prepared her for what followed. First, +there was a short trip on the train, during which +she conscientiously studied a map. Then followed +a dinner at a large and ostentatious hotel. +The decorations were more brilliant, the music +louder, and the dresses gayer, than at any place +Miss Lucinda had yet been. She viewed the +passing show through her glasses, and experienced +a pleasant thrill of sophistication. This, +she assured herself, was society; henceforth she +was in a position to rail at its follies as one having +authority.</p> + +<p>In the midst of these complacent reflections +she choked on a crumb, and, after groping with +closed eyes for her tumbler, gulped down the +contents. A strange, delicious tingle filled her +mouth; she forgot she was choking, and opened + +her eyes. To her horror, she found that she +had emptied her glass of champagne.</p> + +<p>"Spirituous liquor!" she thought in dismay, +as the shade of Miss Joe Hill rose before +her.</p> + +<p>Total abstinence was such a firm plank in the +platform of the celestial affinity that, even in +the chafing-dish, alcohol had been tabooed. +The utter iniquity of having deliberately swallowed +a glass of champagne was appalling to +Miss Lucinda. She sat silent during the rest +of the dinner, eating little, and plucking nervously +at the ruffles about her elbows. The fear +of rheumatism in her wrists which had assailed +her earlier in the evening gave way to a deeper +and more disturbing discomfort.</p> + +<p>When the dinner was over, the party started +forth on a hilarious round of sight-seeing. +Miss Lucinda limped after them, vaguely aware +that she was in a giant electric cage filled with +swarming humanity, that bands were playing, +drums beating, and that at every turn disagreeable +men with loud voices were imploring her to +"step this way."</p> + +<p>"Come on!" cried Dick. "We are going on +the scenic railway."</p> + +<p>But the worm turned. "I—I'm not going," +she protested. "I will wait here. All of you +go; I will wait right here."</p> + +<p>With a sigh of relief she slipped into a vacant +corner, and gave herself up to the luxury of being +miserable. She longed for solitude in which +to face the full enormity of her misdeed, and +to plan an immediate reformation. She would +throw herself bodily upon the mercy of Miss +Joe Hill, she would spare herself nothing; penance +of any kind would be welcome, bodily pain +even—</p> + +<p>She shifted her weight to the slender support +of one high-heeled shoe while she rested the +other foot. Her hair, unused to its new arrangement, +pulled cruelly upon every restraining +hair-pin, and her head was beginning to +ache.</p> + +<p>"I deny the slavery of sense. I repudiate +the bondage of matter. I affirm spirit and +freedom," she quoted to herself, but the thought +failed to have any effect.</p> + + +<p>A two-ringed circus was in progress at her +right while at her left a procession of camels and +Egyptians was followed by a noisy crowd of +urchins. People were thronging in every direction, +and she realized that she was occasionally +the recipient of a curious glance. She began +to watch rather anxiously for the return of her +party. Ten minutes passed, and still they did +not come.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the awful possibility presented itself +that they might have lost her. She had no +money, and even with it, she knew she could not +find her way back to the hotel alone. Anxiety +gained upon her in leaps. In bitter remorse she +upbraided herself for ever having strayed from +the blessed protection of Miss Joe Hill's authority. +Gulfs of hideous possibility yawned +at her feet; imagination faltered at the things +that might befall a lone and unprotected lady +in this bedlam of frivolity.</p> + +<p>Just as her fear was turning to terror the +party returned.</p> + +<p>"Oh, here you are!" cried Floss. "We + +thought we had lost you. It was just dandy, +Miss Lucy; you ought to have gone. It makes +you feel like your feet are growing right out +of the top of your head. Come on; we are going +to have our tintypes taken."</p> + +<p>Strengthened by the fear of being left alone +again, Miss Lucinda rallied her courage, and +once more followed in their wake. She was +faint and exhausted, but the one grain of comfort +she extracted from the situation was that +through her present suffering she was atoning +for her sins.</p> + +<p>At midnight Dick said: "There's only one +other thing to do. It's more fun than all the +rest put together. Come this way."</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda followed blindly. She had +ceased to think; there were only two realities +left in the world, French-heels and hair-pins.</p> + +<p>At the foot of a flight of steps the party +paused to buy tickets.</p> + +<p>"You can wait for us here, Miss Lucy," said +Floss.</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda protested eagerly that she was + +not too tired to go with them. The prospect +of being left alone again nerved her to climb +to any height.</p> + +<p>"But," cried Floss, "if you get up there, +there's only one way to come down. You have +to—"</p> + +<p>"Let her come!" interrupted the others in +laughing chorus, and, to Miss Lucinda's great +relief, she was allowed to pass through the little +gate.</p> + +<p>When she reached the top of the long stairs, +she looked about for the attraction. A wide +inclined plane slanted down to the ground floor, +and on it were bumps of various sizes and +shapes, all of a shining smoothness. She had +a vague idea that it was a mammoth map for +the blind, until she saw Dick and Floss sit down +at the top and go sliding to the bottom.</p> + +<p>"Come on, Miss Lucinda!" cried May. +"You can't get down any other way, you know. +Look out! Here I go!"</p> + +<p>One by one the others followed, and Miss Lucinda +could not distinguish them as they merged +in the laughing crowd at the base.</p> + + +<p>Delay was fatal; they would lose her again if +she hesitated. In desperation she gathered her +skirts about her, and let herself cautiously down +on the floor. For one awful moment terror +paralyzed her, then, grasping her skirts with +one hand and her hat with the other and closing +her eyes, she slid.</p> + +<p>Miss Lucinda did not "hump the bumps"; +she slid gracefully around them, describing +fanciful curves and loops in her airy flight. +When she arrived in a confused bunch on the +cushioned platform below, she was greeted with +a burst of applause.</p> + +<p>"Ain't it great?" cried Floss, straightening +Miss Lucinda's hat and trying to get her to +open her eyes. "Dick says you are the gamest +chaperon he ever saw. Sit up and let me pin +your collar straight."</p> + +<p>But Miss Lucinda's sense of direction had +evidently been disturbed, for she did not yet +know which was up, and which was down. She +leaned limply against Floss and tried to get +her breath.</p> + +<p>"Excuse me," said a man's voice above her, + +"but are either of you ladies Mrs. Lura Doring?"</p> + +<p>The effect was electrical. Miss Lucinda sat +bolt upright and stared madly about. Tom +Speckert had told her to be sure to answer to +that name. It would get him into trouble if she +failed to do so.</p> + +<p>"Yes, yes," she gasped; "I am Mrs. Lura +Doring."</p> + +<p>The members of her little party looked at her +anxiously and ceased to laugh. The slide had +evidently unsettled her mind.</p> + +<p>"Why, this is Miss Perkins—Miss Lucinda +Perkins of Locustwood, Ohio," explained Dick +Benson to the officer, "She's rather upset by +her tobogganing, and didn't understand you."</p> + +<p>"I did," declared Miss Lucinda, making mysterious +signs to Dick to be silent. "It's all +right; I am Mrs. Doring."</p> + +<p>The officer looked suspiciously from one to the +other, then consulted his memorandum: +"Small, slender woman, yellow hair, gray eyes, +answers to name of Mrs. Lura Doring. Left +Chicago on June 10."</p> + + +<p>"When did she get to New York?" asked the +officer.</p> + +<p>"A week ago to-morrow, on the eleventh," +said Floss.</p> + +<p>"Then I guess I'll have to take her up," said +the officer; "she answers all the requirements. +I've got a warrant for her arrest."</p> + +<p>"Arrest!" gasped Benson. "What for?"</p> + +<p>"For forging her husband's name, and defrauding +two hotels in Chicago."</p> + +<p>"My husband—" Miss Lucinda staggered to +her feet, then, catching sight of the crowd that +had collected, she gave a fluttering cry and +fainted away in the arms of the law.</p> + +<br> + +<p>When Miss Joe Hill arrived in New York, in +answer to an urgent telegram, she went directly +to work with her usual executive ability to unravel +the mystery. After obtaining the full +facts in the case, she was able to make a satisfactory +explanation to the officers at headquarters. +Then she sent the girls to their respective +homes, and turned her full attention upon Miss +Lucinda.</p> + +<p>"The barber will be here in half an hour to +cut your hair," she announced on the eve of +their departure for the Catskills.</p> + +<p>"You ought not to be so good to me!" sobbed +Miss Lucinda, who was lying limply on a couch.</p> + +<p>Miss Joe Hill took her hand firmly and said: +"Lucinda, error and illness and disorder are +man-made perversions. Let the past week be +wiped from our memories. Once we are in the +mountains we will turn the formative power of +our thoughts upon things invisible, and yield +ourselves to the higher harmonies."</p> + +<p>The next morning, Miss Lucinda, shorn and +penitent, was led forth from the scene of her +recent profligacy. It was her final exit from +a world which for a little space she had loved +not wisely but too well.</p> +</div> + + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_8"></a> + +<h2>Cupid Goes Slumming</h2> + + +<p>It is a debatable question whether love is a +cause or an effect, whether Adam discovered +a heart in the recesses of his anatomy before +or after the appearance of Eve. In the +case of Joe Ridder it was distinctly the former.</p> + +<p>At nineteen his knowledge of the tender passion +consisted of dynamic impressions received +across the footlights at an angle of forty-five +degrees. Love was something that hovered +with the calcium light about beauty in distress, +something that brought the hero from the uttermost +parts of the earth to hurl defiance at the +villain and clasp the swooning maiden in his +arms; it was something that sent a fellow down +from his perch in the peanut gallery with his +head hot and his hands cold, and a sort of blissful +misery rioting in his soul.</p> + +<p>Joe lived in what was known by courtesy as +Rear Ninth Street. "Rear Ninth Street" has + +a sound of exclusive aristocracy, and the name +was a matter of some pride to the dwellers in +the narrow, unpaved alley that writhed its watery +way between two rows of tumble-down +cottages, Joe's family consisted of his father, +whose vocation was plumbing, and whose avocation +was driving either in the ambulance or the +patrol wagon; his mother, who had discharged +her entire debt to society when she bestowed +nine healthy young citizens upon it; eight young +Ridders, and Joe himself, who had stopped +school at twelve to assume the financial responsibilities +of a rapidly increasing family.</p> + +<p>Lack of time and the limited opportunities of +Rear Ninth Street, together with an uncontrollable +shyness, had brought Joe to his nineteenth +year of broad-shouldered, muscular manhood, +with no acquaintance whatever among the +girls. But where a shrine is built for Cupid +and the tapers are kept burning, the devotee is +seldom disappointed.</p> + +<p>One morning in October, as Joe was guiding +his rickety wheel around the mud puddles on +his way to the cooper shops, he saw a new sign + +on the first cottage after he left the alley—"Mrs. +R. Beaver, Modiste & Dress Maker." +In the yard and on the steps were a confusion +of household effects, and in their midst a girl +with a pink shawl over her head.</p> + +<p>So absorbed was Joe in open-mouthed wonder +over the "Modiste," that he failed to see +the girl, until a laughing exclamation made him +look up.</p> + +<p>"Watch out!"</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked Joe, coming to +a halt.</p> + +<p>"I thought maybe you didn't know your +wheels was going 'round!" the girl said audaciously, +then fled into the house and slammed +the door.</p> + +<p>All day at the shops Joe worked as in a trance. +Every iron rivet that he drove into a wooden +hoop was duly informed of the romantic occurrence +of the morning, and as some four thousand +rivets are fastened into four thousand +hoops in the course of one day, it will be seen +that the matter was duly considered. The stray +spark from a feminine eye had kindled such a + +fierce fire in his heart that by the time the six +o'clock whistle blew the conflagration threw a +rosy glow over the entire landscape.</p> + +<p>As he rode home, the girl was sitting on the +steps, but she would not look at him. Joe had +formulated a definite course of action, and +though the utter boldness of it nearly cost him +his balance, he adhered to it strictly. When +just opposite her gate, without turning his head +or his eyes, he lifted his hat, then rode at a +furious pace around the corner.</p> + +<p>"What you tidying up so fer, Joe?" asked +his mother that night; "you goin' out?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Joe evasively, as he endeavoured +in vain to coax back the shine to an old pair of +shoes.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm right glad you ain't. Berney and +Dick ain't got up the coal, and there's all them +dishes to wash, and the baby she's got a misery +in her year."</p> + +<p>"Has paw turned up?" asked Joe.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered Mrs. Ridder indifferently. +"He looked in 'bout three o'clock. He was +tolerable full then, and I 'spec he's been took + +up by now. He said he was goin' to buy me +a bird-cage with a bird in it, but I surely hope +he won't. Them white mice he brought me on +his last spree chewed a hole in Berney's stocking; +besides, I never did care much for birds. +Good lands! what are you goin' to wash yer +head for?"</p> + +<p>Joe was substituting a basin of water for a +small girl in the nearest kitchen chair, and a +howl ensued.</p> + +<p>"Shut up, Lottie!" admonished Mrs. Ridder, +"you ain't any too good to set on the floor. +It's a good thing this is pay-day, Joe, for the +rent's due and four of the children's got their +feet on the ground. You paid up the grocery +last week, didn't you!"</p> + +<p>Joe nodded a dripping head.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll jes' git yer money out of yer +coat while I think about it," she went on as she +rummaged in his pocket and brought out nine +dollars.</p> + +<p>"Leave me a quarter," demanded Joe, gasping +beneath his soap-suds.</p> + +<p>"All right," said Mrs. Ridder accommodatingly; + +"now that Bob and Ike are gitting fifty +cents a day, it ain't so hard to make out. I'll +be gittin' a new dress first thing, you know."</p> + +<p>"I seen one up at the corner!" said Joe.</p> + +<p>"A new dress?"</p> + +<p>"Naw, a dressmaker. She's got out her +sign."</p> + +<p>"What's her name?" asked Mrs. Ridder, keen +with interest.</p> + +<p>"Mrs. R. Beaver, Modiste," repeated Joe +from the sign that floated in letters of gold in +his memory.</p> + +<p>"I knowed a Mrs. Beaver wunst, up on +Eleventh Street—a big, fat woman that got in +a fuss with the preacher and smacked his jaws."</p> + +<p>"Did she have any children?" asked Joe.</p> + +<p>"Seems like there was one, a pretty little +tow-headed girl."</p> + +<p>"That's her," announced Joe conclusively. +"What was her name?"</p> + +<p>"Lawsee, I don't know. I never would 'a' +ricollected Mrs. Beaver 'cepten she was such +a tarnashious woman, always a-tearin' up +stumps, and never happy unless she was rippitin' + +'bout somethin'. <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">What</span> you want? A +needle and thread to mend your coat? Why, +what struck you? You been wearin' it that +a-way for a month. You better leave it be 'til +I git time to fix it."</p> + +<p>But Joe had determined to work out the +salvation of his own wardrobe. Late in the +evening after the family had retired, he sat +before the stove with back humped and knees +drawn up trying to coax a coarse thread through +a small needle. Surely no rich man need have +any fear about entering the kingdom of heaven +since Joe Ridder managed to get that particular +thread through the eye of that particular +needle!</p> + +<p>But when a boy is put at a work-bench at +twelve years of age and does the same thing +day in and day out for seven long years, he +may have lost all of the things that youth +holds dear, but one thing he is apt to have +learned, a dogged, plodding, unquestioning patience +that shoves silently along at the appointed +task until the work is done.</p> + +<p>By midnight all the rents were mended and + +a large new patch adorned each elbow. The +patches, to be sure, were blue, and the coat was +black, but the stitches were set with mechanical +regularity. Joe straightened his aching shoulders +and held the garment at arm's length with +a smile. It was his first votive offering at the +shrine of love.</p> + +<p>The effect of Joe's efforts were prompt and +satisfactory. The next day being Sunday, he +spent the major part of it in passing and repassing +the house on the corner, only going +home between times to remove the mud from +his shoes and give an extra brush to his hair. +The girl, meanwhile, was devoting her day to +sweeping off the front pavement, a scant three +feet of pathway from her steps to the wooden +gate. Every time Joe passed she looked up +and smiled, and every time she smiled Joe +suffered all the symptoms of locomotor +ataxia!</p> + +<p>By afternoon his emotional nature had +reached the saturation point. Without any +conscious volition on his part, his feet carried +him to the gate and refused to carry him farther. + +His voice then decided to speak for itself, +and in strange, hollow tones he heard himself +saying—</p> + +<p>"Say, do you wanter go to the show with +me?"</p> + +<p>"Sure," said the pink fascinator. "When?"</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Joe, too much embarrassed +to remember the days of the week.</p> + +<p>"To-morrer night?" prompted the girl.</p> + +<p>"I don't care," said Joe, and the conversation +seeming to lauguish, he moved on.</p> + +<p>After countless eons of time the next night +arrived. It found Joe and his girl cosily +squeezed in between two fat women in the gallery +of the People's Theatre. Joe had to sit +sideways and double his feet up, but he would +willingly have endured a rack of torture for the +privilege of looking down on that fluffy, blond +pompadour under its large bow, and of receiving +the sparkling glances that were flashed up +at him from time to time.</p> + +<p>"I ain't ever gone with a feller that I didn't +know his name before!" she confided before +the curtain rose.</p> + + +<p>"It's Joe," he said, "Joe Ridder, What's +your front name?"</p> + +<p>"Miss Beaver," she said mischievously. +"What do you think it is?"</p> + +<p>Joe could not guess.</p> + +<p>"Say," she went on, "I knew who you was +all right even if I didn't know yer name. I +seen you over to the hall when they had the +boxin' match."</p> + +<p>"The last one?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, when you and Ben Schenk was fightin'. +Say, you didn't do a thing to him!"</p> + +<p>The surest of all antidotes to masculine shyness +was not without its immediate effect. Joe +straightened his shoulders and smiled complacently.</p> + +<p>"Didn't I massacre him?" he said. "That +there was a half-Nelson holt I give him. It put +him out of business all right, all right. Say, +I never knowed you was there!"</p> + +<p>"You bet I was," said his companion in honest +admiration; "that was when I got stuck on +you!"</p> + +<p>Before he could fully comprehend the significance + +of this confession, the curtain rose, +and love itself had to make way for the tragic +and absorbing career of "The Widowed Bride." +By the end of the third act Joe's emotions were +so wrought upon by the unhappy fate of the +heroine, that he rose abruptly and, muttering +something about "gittin' some gum," fled to +the rear. When he returned and squeezed his +way back to his seat he found "Miss Beaver" +with red eyes and a dejected mien.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter with you?" he asked +banteringly.</p> + +<p>"My shoe hurts me," said Miss Beaver evasively.</p> + +<p>"What you givin' me?" asked Joe, with fine +superiority. "These here kinds of play never +hurts my feelin's none. Catch me cryin' at a +show!"</p> + +<p>But Miss Beaver was too much moved to recover +herself at once. She sat in limp dejection +and surreptitiously dabbed her eyes with +her moist ball of a handkerchief.</p> + +<p>Joe was at a loss to know how to meet the +situation until his hand, quite by chance, + +touched hers as it lay on the arm of her chair. +He withdrew it as quickly as if he had received +an electric shock, but the next moment, like a +lodestone following a magnet, it traveled slowly +back to hers.</p> + +<p>From that time on Joe sat staring straight +ahead of him in embarrassed ecstasy, while +Miss Beaver, thus comforted, was able to pass +through the tragic finale of the last act with +remarkable composure.</p> + +<p>When the time came to say "Good night" +at the Beavers' door, all Joe's reticence and +awkwardness returned. He watched her let +herself in and waited until she lit a candle. +Then he found himself out on the pavement +in the dark feeling as if the curtain had gone +down on the best show be had ever seen. Suddenly +a side window was raised cautiously and +he heard his name called softly. He had turned +the corner, but he went back to the fence.</p> + +<p>"Say!" whispered the voice at the window, +"I forgot to tell you—It's Mittie."</p> + +<p>The course of true love thus auspiciously +started might have flowed on to blissful fulfilment + +had it not encountered the inevitable barrier +in the formidable person of Mrs. Beaver. +Not that she disapproved of Mittie receiving +attention; on the contrary, it was her oft-repeated +boast that "Mittie had been keepin' +company with the boys ever since she was six, +and she 'spected she'd keep right on till she +was sixty." It was not attention in the abstract +that she objected to, it was rather the +threatening of "a steady," and that steady, the +big, awkward, shy Joe Ridder. With serpentine +wisdom she instituted a counter-attraction.</p> + +<p>Under her skilful manipulation, Ben Schenk, +the son of the saloon-keeper, soon developed +into a rival suitor. Ben was engaged at a down-town +pool-room, and wore collars on a weekday +without any apparent discomfort. The +style of his garments, together with his easy +air of sophistication, entirely captivated Mrs. +Beaver, while Ben on his part found it increasingly +pleasant to lounge in the Beavers' best +parlour chair and recount to a credulous audience +the prominent part which he was taking in +all the affairs of the day.</p> + + +<p>Matters reached a climax one night when, +after some close financing, Joe Ridder took +Mittie to the Skating Rink. An unexpected +run on the tin savings bank at the Ridders' +had caused a temporary embarrassment, and +by the closest calculation Joe could do no better +than pay for two entrance-tickets and hire +one pair of skates. He therefore found it necessary +to develop a sprained ankle, which grew +rapidly worse as they neared the rink.</p> + +<p>"I don't think you orter skate on it, Joe!" +said Mittie sympathetically.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I reckon I kin manage it all O.K.," said +Joe.</p> + +<p>"But I ain't agoin' to let you!" she declared +with divine authority. "We can just set down +and rubber at the rest of them."</p> + +<p>"Naw, you don't," said Joe; "you kin go on +an' skate, and I'll watch you."</p> + +<p>The arrangement proved entirely satisfactory +so long as Mittie paused on every other round +to rest or to get him to adjust a strap, or to +hold her hat, but when Ben Schenk arrived on +the scene, the situation was materially changed.</p> + + +<p>It was sufficiently irritating to see Ben go +through an exhaustive exhibition of his accomplishments +under the admiring glances of Mittie, +but when he condescended to ask her to +skate, and even offered to teach her some new +figures, Joe's irritation rose to ire. In vain +he tried to catch her eye; she was laughing and +clinging to Ben and giving all her attention to +his instructions.</p> + +<p>Joe sat sullen and indignant, savagely biting +his nails. He would have parted with everything +he had in the world at that moment for +three paltry nickels!</p> + +<p>On and on went the skaters, and on and on +went the music, and Joe turned his face to the +wall and doggedly waited. When at last Mittie +came to him flushed and radiant, he had no +word of greeting for her.</p> + +<p>"Did you see all the new steps Mr. Ben +learnt me?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Naw," said Joe.</p> + +<p>"Does yer foot hurt you, Joe?"</p> + +<p>"Naw," said Joe.</p> + +<p>Mittie was too versed in masculine moods + +to press the subject. She waited until they +were out under the starlight in the clear stretch +of common near home. Then she slipped her +hand through his arm and said coaxingly—</p> + +<p>"Say now, Joe, what you kickin' 'bout?"</p> + +<p>"Him," said Joe comprehensively.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Ben? Why, he's one of our best +friends. Maw likes him better'n anybody I +ever kept company with. What have all you +fellers got against him?"</p> + +<p>"He was black marveled at the hall all +right," said Joe grimly.</p> + +<p>"What for?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't none of my business to tell what +for," said Joe, though his lips ached to tell +what he knew.</p> + +<p>"Maw says all you fellows are jealous 'cause +he talks so pretty and wears such stylish +clothes."</p> + +<p>"We might, too, if we got 'em like he done," +Joe began, then checked himself. "Say, Mittie, +why don't yer maw like me?"</p> + +<p>"She says you haven't got any school education +and don't talk good grammar."</p> + + +<p>"Don't I talk good grammar?" asked Joe +anxiously.</p> + +<p>"I don't know," said Mittie; "that's what +she says. How long did you go to school?"</p> + +<p>"Me? Oh, off and on 'bout two year. The +old man was always poorly, and Maw, she had +to work out, till me an' the boys done got +big enough to work. 'Fore that I had to stay +home and mind the kids. Don't I talk like other +fellers, Mittie?"</p> + +<p>"You talk better than some," said Mittie +loyally.</p> + +<p>After he left her, Joe reviewed the matter +carefully. He thought of the few educated people +he knew—the boss at the shops, the preacher +up on Twelfth Street, the doctor who sewed up +his head after he stopped a runaway team, even +Ben Schenk, who had gone through the eighth +grade. Yes, there was a difference. Being +clean and wearing good clothes were not the +only things.</p> + +<p>When he got home, he tiptoed into the front +room, and picking his way around the various +beds and pallets, took Berney's school satchel + +from the top of the wardrobe. Retracing his +steps, he returned to the kitchen, and with +his hat still on and his coat collar turned up, +he began to take an inventory of his mental +stock.</p> + +<p>One after another of the dog-eared, grimy +books he pondered over, and one after another +he laid aside, with a puzzled, distressed +look deepening in his face.</p> + +<p>"Berney she ain't but fourteen an' she gits +on to 'em," he said to himself; "looks like I +orter."</p> + +<p>Once more he seized the nearest book, and +with the courage of despair repeated the sentences +again and again to himself.</p> + +<p>"That you, Joe?" asked Mrs. Ridder from +the next room an hour later. "I didn't know +you'd come. Yer paw sent word by old man +Jackson that he was at Hank's Exchange way +down on Market Street, and fer you to come git +him."</p> + +<p>"It's twelve o'clock," remonstrated Joe.</p> + +<p>"I know it," said Mrs. Ridder, yawning, "but +I reckon you better go. The old man always + +gits the rheumatiz when he lays out all night, +and that there rheumatiz medicine cost sixty-five +cents a bottle!"</p> + +<p>"All right," said Joe with a resignation born +of experience, "but don't you go and put no +more of the kids in my bed. Jack and Gus kick +the stuffin' out of me now."</p> + +<p>And with this parting injunction he went +wearily out into the night, giving up his struggle +with Minerva, only to begin the next round +with Bacchus.</p> + +<p>The seeds of ambition, though sown late, grew +steadily, and Joe became so desirous of proving +worthy of the consideration of Mrs. Beaver +that he took the boss of the shops partially into +his confidence.</p> + +<p>"It's a first-rate idea, Joe," said the boss, +a big, capable fellow who had worked his way +up from the bottom. "I could move you right +along the line if you had a better education. I +have a good offer up in Chicago next year; if +you can get more book sense in your head, I +will take you along."</p> + +<p>"Where can I get it at?" asked Joe, somewhat + +dubious of his own power of achievement.</p> + +<p>"Night school," said the boss. "I know a +man that teaches in the Settlement over on +Burk Street. I'll put you in there if you like."</p> + +<p>Now, the prospect of going to school to a +man who had been head of a family for seven +years, who had been the champion scrapper of +the South End, who was in the midst of a critical +love affair, was trebly humiliating. But Joe +was game, and while he determined to keep the +matter as secret as possible, he agreed to the +boss's proposition.</p> + +<p>"You're mighty stingy with yourself these +days!" said Mittie Beaver one night a month +later, when he stopped on his way to school.</p> + +<p>Joe grinned somewhat foolishly. "I come +every evenin'," he said.</p> + +<p>"For 'bout ten minutes," said Mittie, with a +toss of her voluminous pompadour; "there's +some wants more'n ten minutes."</p> + +<p>"Ben Schenk?" asked Joe, alert with jealousy.</p> + +<p>"I ain't sayin'," went on Mittie. "What do +you do of nights, hang around the hall?"</p> + + +<p>"Naw," said Joe indignantly. "There ain't +nobody can say they've sawn me around the hall +sence I've went with you!"</p> + +<p>"Well, where do you go?"</p> + +<p>"I'm trainin'," said Joe evasively.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe you like me as much as you +used to," said Mittie plaintively.</p> + +<p>Joe looked at her dumbly. His one thought +from the time he cooked his own early breakfast, +down to the moment when he undressed +in the cold and dropped into his place in bed +between Gussie and Dick, was of her. The love +of her made his back stop aching as he bent +hour after hour over the machine; it made all +the problems and hard words and new ideas at +night school come straight at last; it made the +whole sordid, ugly day swing round the glorious +ten minutes that they spent together in the twilight.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I like you all right," he said, twisting +his big, grease-stained hands in embarrassment. +"You're the onliest girl I ever could care about. +Besides, I couldn't go with no other girl if I +wanted to, 'cause I don't know none."</p> + + +<p>Is it small wonder that Ben Schenk's glib +protestations, reinforced by Mrs. Beaver's own +zealous approval, should have in time outclassed +the humble Joe? The blow fell just when the +second term of night school was over, and Joe +was looking forward to long summer evenings +of unlimited joy.</p> + +<p>He had bought two tickets for a river excursion, +and was hurrying into the Beavers' when +he encountered a stolid bulwark in the form of +Mrs. Beaver, whose portly person seemed permanently +wedged into the narrow aperture of +the front door. She sat in silent majesty, her +hands just succeeding in clasping each other +around her ample waist. Had she closed her +eyes, she might have passed for a placid, amiable +person, whose angles of disposition had +also become curves. But Mrs. Beaver did not +close her eyes. She opened them as widely as +the geography of her face would permit, and +coldly surveyed Joe Ridder.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Beaver was a born manager; she had +managed her husband into an untimely grave, +she had managed her daughter from the hour + +she was born, she had dismissed three preachers, +induced two women to leave their husbands, +and now dogmatically announced herself arbiter +of fashions and conduct in Rear Ninth Street.</p> + +<p>"No, she can't see you," she said firmly in +reply to Joe's question. "She's going out to +a dance party with Mr. Schenk."</p> + +<p>"Where at?" demanded Joe, who still trembled +in her presence.</p> + +<p>"Somewheres down town," said Mrs. Beaver, +"to a real swell party."</p> + +<p>"He oughtn't to take her to no down-town +dance," said Joe, his indignation getting the +better of his shyness. "I don't want her to go, +and I'm going to tell her so."</p> + +<p>"In-deed!" said Mrs. Beaver in scorn. +"And what have you got to say about it? I +guess Mr. Schenk's got the right to take her +anywhere he wants to!"</p> + +<p>"What right?" demanded Joe, getting suddenly +a bit dizzy.</p> + +<p>"'Cause he's got engaged to her. He's going +to give her a real handsome turquoise ring, +fourteen-carat gold."</p> + + +<p>"Didn't Mittie send me no word?" faltered +Joe.</p> + +<p>"No," said Mrs. Beaver unhesitatingly, +though she had in her pocket a note for him +from the unhappy Mittie.</p> + +<p>Joe fumbled for his hat. "I guess I better +be goin'," he said, a lump rising ominously +in his throat. He got the gate open and made +his way half dazed around the corner. As he +did so, he saw a procession of small Ridders +bearing joyously down upon him.</p> + +<p>"Joe!" shrieked Lottie, arriving first, "Maw +says hurry on home; we got another new baby +to our house."</p> + +<p>During the weeks that followed, Rear Ninth +Street was greatly thrilled over the unusual +event of a home wedding. The reticence of +the groom was more than made up for by the +bulletins of news issued daily by Mrs. Beaver. +To use that worthy lady's own words, "she was +in her elements!" She organised various committees—on +decoration, on refreshment, and +even on the bride's trousseau, tactfully permitting +each assistant to contribute in some way + +to the general grandeur of the occasion.</p> + +<p>"I am going to have this a real showy wedding," +she said from her point of vantage by +the parlour window, where she sat like a field-marshal +and issued her orders. "Those paper +fringes want to go clean across every one of the +shelves, and you all must make enough paper +roses to pin 'round the edges of all the curtains. +Ever'thing's got to look gay and festive."</p> + +<p>"Mittie don't look very gay," ventured one +of the assistants. "I seen her in the kitchen +cryin' a minute ago."</p> + +<p>"Mittie's a fool!" announced Mrs. Beaver +calmly. "She don't know a good thing when +she sees it! Get them draperies up a little +higher in the middle; I'm going to hang a +silver horseshoe on to the loop."</p> + +<p>The wedding night arrived, and the Beaver +cottage was filled to suffocation with the <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">élite</span> +of Rear Ninth Street. The guests found it +difficult to circulate freely in the room on account +of the elaborate and aggressive decorations, +so they stood in silent rows awaiting the +approaching ceremony. As the appointed hour + +drew near, and none of the groom's family arrived, +a few whispered comments were exchanged.</p> + +<p>"It's 'most time to begin," whispered the +preacher to Mrs. Beaver, whose keen black +eyes had been watching the door with growing +impatience.</p> + +<p>"Well, we won't wait on nobody," she said +positively, as she rose and left the room to +give the signal.</p> + +<p>In the kitchen she found great consternation: +the bride, pale and dejected in all her finery, +sat on the table, all the chairs being in the parlour.</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" demanded Mrs. +Beaver.</p> + +<p>"He ain't come!" announced one of the +women in tragic tones.</p> + +<p>"Ben Schenk ain't here?" asked Mrs. Beaver +in accents so awful that her listeners quaked. +"Well, I'll see the reason why!"</p> + +<p>Out into the night she sallied, picking her way +around the puddles until she reached the saloon +at the corner.</p> + + +<p>"Where's Ben Schenk?" she demanded +sternly of the men around the bar.</p> + +<p>There was an ominous silence, broken only +by the embarrassed shuffling of feet.</p> + +<p>Drawing herself up, Mrs. Beaver thumped +the counter.</p> + +<p>"Where's he at?" she repeated, glaring at +the most embarrassed of the lot.</p> + +<p>"He don't know where he's at," said the +man. "I rickon he cilebrated a little too much +fer the weddin'."</p> + +<p>"Can he stand up?" demanded Mrs. Beaver.</p> + +<p>"Not without starchin'," said the man, and +amid the titter that followed, Mrs. Beaver made +her exit.</p> + +<p>On the corner she paused to reconnoitre. +Across the street was her gaily lighted cottage, +where all the guests were waiting. She thought +of the ignominy that would follow their abrupt +dismissal, she thought of the refreshments that +must be used to-night or never, she thought of +the little bride sitting disconsolate on the +kitchen table.</p> + +<p>With a sudden determination she decided to + +lead a forlorn hope. Facing about, she marched +weightily around to the rear of the saloon and +began laboriously to climb the steps that lead +to the hall. At the door she paused and made +a rapid survey of the room until she found what +she was looking for.</p> + +<p>"Joe Ridder!" she called peremptorily.</p> + +<p>Joe, haggard and listless, put down his billiard-cue +and came to the door.</p> + +<p>Five minutes later a breathless figure presented +himself at the Beaver kitchen. He had +on a clean shirt and his Sunday clothes, and +while he wore no collar, a clean handkerchief +was neatly pinned about his neck.</p> + +<p>"Everybody but the bride and groom come +into the parlour," commanded Mrs. Beaver. +"I'm a-going to make a speech, and tell 'em +that the bride has done changed her mind."</p> + +<p>Joe and Mittie, left alone, looked at each +other in dazed rapture. She was the first to +recover.</p> + +<p>"Joe!" she cried, moving timidly towards +him, "ain't you mad? Do you still want me?"</p> + +<p>Joe, with both hands entangled in her veil + +and his feet lost in her train, looked down at +her through swimming eyes.</p> + +<p>"Want yer?" he repeated, and his lips trembled, +"gee whiz! I feel like I done ribbeted a +hoop round the hull world!"</p> + +<p>The signal was given for them to enter the +parlour, and without further interruption the +ceremony proceeded, if not in exact accordance +with the plans of Mrs. Beaver, at least in obedience +to the mandate of a certain little autocrat +who sometimes takes a hand in the affairs of +man even in Rear Ninth Street.</p> +</div> + + + +<hr class="page"> + +<div> +<a name="toc_9"></a> + +<h2>The Soul Of O Sana San</h2> + + +<p>O Sana San stood in the heart of a joyous +world, as much a part of the radiant, +throbbing, irresponsible spring as the +golden butterfly which fluttered in her hand. +Through the close-stemmed bamboos she could +see the sparkling river racing away to the Inland +Sea, while slow-moving junks, with their +sixfold sails, glided with almost imperceptible +motion toward a far-distant port. From below, +across the rice-fields, came the shouts and laughter +of naked bronze babies who played at the +water's edge, and from above, high up on the +ferny cliff, a mellow-throated temple bell answered +the call of each vagrant breeze. Far +away, shutting out the strange, big world, the +luminous mountains hung in the purple mists of +May.</p> + +<p>And every note of color in the varied landscape, +from the purple irises whose royal reflection + +stained the water below, to the rosy-tipped +clover at the foot of the hill, was repeated in the +kimono and <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">obi</span> of the child who flitted about in +the grasses, catching butterflies in her long-handled +net.</p> + +<p>It was in the days of the Japanese-Russian +War, but the constant echo of the great conflict +that sounded around her disturbed her no more +than it did the birds overhead. All day long the +bugles sounded from the parade-grounds, and +always and always the soldiers went marching +away to the front. Around the bend in the river +were miniature fortifications where recruits +learned to make forts and trenches, and to shoot +through tiny holes in a wall at imaginary Russian +troopers. Down in the town below were +long white hospitals where twenty thousand sick +and wounded soldiers lay. No thought of the +horror of it came to trouble O Sana San. The +cherry-trees gladly and freely gave up their +blossoms to the wind, and so much the country +give up its men for the Emperor. Her father +had marched away, then one brother, then another, +and she had held up her hands and + +shouted, "Banzai!" and smiled because her +mother smiled. Everything was vague and uncertain, +and no imagined catastrophe troubled +her serenity. It was all the will of the Emperor, +and it was well.</p> + +<p>Life was a very simple matter to O Sana San. +She rose when the sun climbed over the mountain, +bathed her face and hands in the shallow +copper basin in the garden, ate her breakfast +of bean-curd and pickled fish and warm yellow +tea. Then she hung the quilts over poles to +sun, dusted the screens, and placed an offering +of rice on the steps of the tiny shrine to Inari, +where the little foxes kept guard. These simple +duties being accomplished, she tied a bit of +bean-cake in her gaily colored handkerchief, +and stepping into her <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">geta</span>, went pattering off +to school.</p> + +<p>It was an English school, where she sat with +hands folded through the long mornings, passively +permitting the lessons to filter through +her brain, and listening in smiling patience +while the kind foreign ladies spoke incomprehensible +things. Sometimes she helped pass the + +hours by watching the shadows of the dancing +leaves outside; sometimes she told herself +stories about "The Old Man Who Made Withered +Trees to Blossom," or about "Momotaro, +the Little Peach Boy." Again she would repeat +the strange English words and phrases that +she heard, and would puzzle out their meaning.</p> + +<p>But the sum of her lore consisted in being +happy; and when the shadow of the mountains +began to slip across the valley, she would dance +back along the homeward way, singing with the +birds, laughing with the rippling water, and adding +her share of brightness to the sunshine of +the world.</p> + +<p>As she stood on this particular morning with +her net poised over a butterfly, she heard the +tramping of many feet. A slow cavalcade was +coming around the road,—a long line of coolies +bearing bamboo stretchers,—and in the rear, in +a jinrikisha, was a foreign man with a red cross +on his sleeve.</p> + +<p>O Sana San scrambled up the bank and +watched with smiling curiosity as the men halted + +to rest. On the stretcher nearest her lay a +young Russian prisoner with the fair skin and +blond hair that are so unfamiliar to Japanese +eyes. His blanket was drawn tight around his +shoulders, and he lay very still, with lips set, +gazing straight up through the bamboo leaves +to the blue beyond.</p> + +<p>Then it was that O Sana San, gazing in frank +inquisitiveness at the soldier, saw a strange +thing happen. A tear formed on his lashes and +trickled slowly across his temple; then another +and another, until they formed a tiny rivulet. +More and more curious, she drew yet nearer, +and watched the tears creep unheeded down the +man's face. She was sure he was not crying, +because soldiers never cry; it could not be the +pain, because his face was very smooth and +calm. What made the tears drop, drop on the +hard pillow, and why did he not brush them +away?</p> + +<p>A vague trouble dawned in the breast of O +Sana San. Running back to the field, she gathered +a handful of wild flowers and returned to +the soldier. The tears no longer fell, but his + +lips quivered and his face was distorted with +pain. She looked about her in dismay. The +coolies were down by the river, drinking from +their hands and calling to one another; the only +person to whom she could appeal was the foreigner +with the red cross on his arm who was +adjusting a bandage for a patient at the end of +the line.</p> + +<p>With halting steps and many misgivings, she +timidly made her way to his side; then placing +her hands on her knees, she bowed low before +him. The embarrassment of speaking to a +stranger and a foreigner almost overwhelmed +her, but she mustered her bravest array of English, +and pointing to the stretcher, faltered out +her message:</p> + +<p>"Soldier not happy very much is. I sink soldier +heart sorry."</p> + +<p>The Red Cross orderly looked up from his +work, and his eyes followed her gesture.</p> + +<p>"He is hurt bad," he said shortly; "no legs, +no arms."</p> + +<p>"<span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">So—deska</span>?" she said politely, then repeated + +his words in puzzled incomprehension: "Nowarms? +Nowarms?"</p> + +<p>When she returned to the soldier she gathered +up the flowers which she had dropped by +the wayside, and timidly offered them to him. +For a long moment she waited, then her smile +faded mid her hand dropped. With a child's +quick sensitiveness to rebuff, she was turning +away when an exclamation recalled her.</p> + +<p>The prisoner was looking at her in a strange, +distressed way; his deep-set gray eyes glanced +down first at one bandaged shoulder, then at the +other, then he shook his head.</p> + +<p>As O Sana San followed his glance, a startled +look of comprehension sprang into her face. +"Nowarms!" she repeated softly as the meaning +dawned upon her, then with a little cry of +sympathy she ran forward and gently laid her +flowers on his breast.</p> + +<p>The cavalcade moved on, under the warm +spring sun, over the smooth white road, under +the arching cryptomerias; but little O Sana Sun +stood with her butterfly net over her shoulder + +and watched it with troubled eyes. A dreadful +something was stirring in her breast, something +clutched at her throat, and she no longer saw the +sunshine and the flowers. Kneeling by the +roadside, she loosened the little basket which +was tied to her <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">obi</span> and gently lifted the lid. +Slowly at first, and then with eager wings, a +dozen captive butterflies fluttered back to freedom.</p> + +<br> + +<p>Along the banks of the Upper Flowing River, +in a rudely improvised hospital, lay the wounded +Russian prisoners. To one of the small rooms +at the end of the ward reserved for fatally +wounded patients a self-appointed nurse came +daily, and rendered her tiny service in the only +way she knew.</p> + +<p>O Sana San's heart had been so wrought +upon by the sad plight of her soldier friend that +she had begged to be taken to see him and to be +allowed to carry him flowers with her own hand. +Her mother, in whom smoldered the fires of +dead samurai, was quick to be gracious to a +fallen foe, and it was with her consent that O + +Sana San went day after day to the hospital.</p> + +<p>The nurses humored her childish whim, thinking +each day would be the last; but as the days +grew into weeks and the weeks into months, her +visits became a matter of course.</p> + +<p>And the young Russian, lying on his rack of +pain, learned to watch for her coming as the one +hour of brightness in an interminable night of +gloom. He made a sort of sun-dial of the cracks +in the floor, and when the shadows reached a +certain spot his tired eyes grew eager, and he +turned his head to listen for the patter of the +little <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">tabi</span> that was sure to sound along the hall.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she would bring her picture-books +and read him wonderful stories in words he did +not understand, and show him the pictures of +Momotaro, who was born out of a peach and +who grew up to be so strong and brave that he +went to the Ogres' Island and carried off all +their treasures,—caps and coats that made their +wearers invisible, jewels which made the tide +come or go, coral and amber and tortoise-shell,—and +all these things the little Peach Boy took +back to his kind old foster mother and father, + +and they all lived happily forever after. And +in the telling O Sana Man's voice would thrill, +and her almond eyes grow bright, while her +slender brown finger pointed out the figures on +the gaily colored pages.</p> + +<p>Sometimes she would sing to him, in soft +minor strains, of the beauty of the snow on the +pine-trees, or the wonders of Fuji-San.</p> + +<p>And he would pucker his white lips and try +to whistle the accompaniment, to her great +amusement and delight.</p> + +<p>Many were the treasures she brought forth +from the depths of her long sleeves, and many +were the devices she contrived to amuse him. +The most ambitious achievement was a miniature +garden in a wooden box—a wonderful garden +where grasses stood for tall bamboo, and a +saucer of water, surrounded by moss and pebbles, +made a shining lake across which a bridge +led through a <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">torii</span> to a diminutive shrine above.</p> + +<p>He would watch her deft fingers fashioning +the minute objects, and listen to her endless +prattle in her soft, unknown tongue, and for a +little space the pain-racked body would relax + +and the cruel furrows vanish from between his +brows.</p> + +<p>But there were days in which the story and +the song and the play had no part. At such +times O Sana San slipped in on tiptoe and took +her place at the head of the cot where he could +not see her. Sitting on her heels, with hand +folded in hand, she watched patiently for hours, +alert to adjust the covers or smooth the pillow, +but turning her eyes away when the spasms of +pain contorted his face. All the latent maternity +in the child rose to succor his helplessness. +The same instinct that had prompted her to +strap her doll upon her back when yet a mere +baby herself, made her accept the burden of his +suffering, and mother him with a very passion +of tenderness.</p> + +<p>Longer and sultrier grew the days; the wistaria, +hanging in feathery festoons from many a +trellis, gave way to the flaming azalea, and the +azalea in turn vanished with the coming of the +lotus that floated sleepily in the old castle moat.</p> + +<p>Still the soul of the young Russian was held a +prisoner in his shattered body, and the spirit in + +him grew restive at the delay. Months passed +before the doctor told him his release was at +hand. It was early in the morning, and the sun +fell in long, level rays across his cot. He turned +his head and looked wistfully at the distance it +would have to travel before it would be afternoon.</p> + +<p>The nurse brought the screen and placed it +about the bed—the last service she could render. +For hours the end was expected, but moment +by moment he held death at bay, refusing +to accept the freedom that he so earnestly +longed for. At noon the sky became overcast +and the slow falling of rain was heard on the +low wooden roof. But still his fervent eyes +watched the sun-dial.</p> + +<p>At last the sound of <span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">geta</span> was heard without, +and in a moment O Sana San slipped past the +screen and dropped on her knees beside him. +Under one arm was tightly held a small white +kitten, her final offering at the shrine of love.</p> + +<p>When he saw her quaint little figure, a look +of peace came over his face and he closed his +eyes. An interpreter, knowing that a prisoner + +was about to die, came to the bedside and asked +if he wanted to leave any message. He stirred +slightly then, in a scarcely audible voice, asked +in Russian what the Japanese word was for +"good-by." A long pause followed, during +which the spirit seemed to hover irresolute upon +the brink of eternity.</p> + +<p>O Sana San sat motionless, her lips parted, +her face full of the awe and mystery of death. +Presently he stirred and turned his head slowly +until his eyes were on a level with her own.</p> + +<p>"<span class="hi" style="font-style: italic;">Sayonara</span>," he whispered faintly, and tried +to smile; and O Sana San, summoning all her +courage to restrain the tears, smiled bravely +back and whispered, "Sayonara."</p> + +<p>It was scarcely said before the spirit of the +prisoner started forth upon his final journey, +but he went not alone. The soul of a child went +with him, leaving in its place the tender, newborn +soul of a woman.</p> +</div> +</div> +</div> + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories +by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MINK'S SOLDIER *** + +***** This file should be named 15230-h.htm or 15230-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/2/3/15230/ + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, Josephine +Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories + +Author: Alice Hegan Rice + +Release Date: March 2, 2005 [EBook #15230] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MINK'S SOLDIER *** + + + + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, Josephine +Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + + + + + + + + + +MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + +AND OTHER STORIES + + +[Illustration: Then Miss Mink received a shock] + + + + +MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + +AND OTHER STORIES + +BY + +ALICE HEGAN RICE + +Author of "MRS. WIGGS OF THE CABBAGE PATCH," "MR. OPP," "CALVARY ALLEY," +ETC. + + +NEW YORK +THE CENTURY CO. +1918 + + + + +Copyright, 1905, 1906, 1910, 1918, by THE CENTURY CO. + +Copyright, 1914, by THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY + +_Published, October, 1918_ + + + + + TO + THE LADY OF THE DECORATION + + A MEMENTO OF MANY HAPPY DAYS + SPENT TOGETHER "EAST OF SUEZ" + + + + +CONTENTS + + MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + + A DARLING OF MISFORTUNE + + "POP" + + HOODOOED + + A MATTER OF FRIENDSHIP + + THE WILD OATS OF A SPINSTER + + CUPID GOES SLUMMING + + THE SOUL OF O SANA SAN + + + + +MISS MINK'S SOLDIER + + +Miss Mink sat in church with lips compressed and hands tightly clasped +in her black alpaca lap, and stubbornly refused to comply with the +request that was being made from the pulpit. She was a small desiccated +person, with a sharp chin and a sharper nose, and narrow faded eyes that +through the making of innumerable buttonholes had come to resemble them. + +For over forty years she had sat in that same pew facing that same +minister, regarding him second only to his Maker, and striving in +thought and deed to follow his precepts. But the time had come when Miss +Mink's blind allegiance wavered. + +Ever since the establishment of the big Cantonment near the city, Dr. +Morris, in order to encourage church attendance, had been insistent in +his request that every member of his congregation should take a soldier +home to Sunday dinner. + +Now it was no lack of patriotism that made Miss Mink refuse to do her +part. Every ripple in the small flag that fluttered over her humble +dwelling sent a corresponding ripple along her spinal column. When she +essayed to sing "My Country, 'Tis of Thee," in her high, quavering +soprano, she invariably broke down from sheer excess of emotion. But the +American army fighting for right and freedom in France, and the Army +individually tracking mud into her spotless cottage, were two very +different things. Miss Mink had always regarded a man in her house much +as she regarded a gnat in her eye. There was but one course to pursue in +either case--elimination! + +But her firm stand in the matter had not been maintained without much +misgiving. Every Sunday when Dr. Morris made his earnest appeal, +something within urged her to comply. She was like an automobile that +gets cranked up and then refuses to go. Church-going instead of being +her greatest joy came to be a nightmare. She no longer lingered in the +vestibule, for those highly cherished exchanges of inoffensive gossip +that constituted her social life. Nobody seemed to have time for her. +Every one was busy with a soldier. Within the sanctuary it was no +better. Each khaki-clad figure that dotted the congregation claimed her +attention as a possible candidate for hospitality. And each one that +presented himself to her vision was indignantly repudiated. One was too +old, another too young, one too stylish, another had forgotten to wash +his ears. She found a dozen excuses for withholding her invitation. + +But this morning as she sat upright and uncompromising in her short pew, +she was suddenly thrown into a state of agitation by the appearance in +the aisle of an un-ushered soldier who, after hesitating beside one or +two pews, slipped into the seat beside her. It seemed almost as if +Providence had taken a hand and since she had refused to select a +soldier, had prompted a soldier to select her. + +During the service she sat gazing straight at the minister without +comprehending a word that he said. Never once did her glance stray to +that khaki-clad figure beside her, but her thoughts played around him +like lightning. What if she should get up her courage and ask him to +dinner, how would she ever be able to walk out the street with him! And +once she had got him to her cottage, what on earth would she talk to him +about? Her hands grew cold as she thought about it. Yet something warned +her it was now or never, and that it was only by taking the hated step +and getting it over with, that she could regain the peace of mind that +had of late deserted her. + +The Doxology found her weakening, but the Benediction stiffened her +resolve, and when the final Amen sounded, she turned blindly to the man +beside her, and said, hardly above her breath: + +"If you ain't got any place to go to dinner, you can come home with me." + +The tall figure turned toward her, and a pair of melancholy brown eyes +looked down into hers: + +"You will excuse if I do not quite comprehend your meaning," he said +politely, with a strong foreign accent. + +Miss Mink was plunged into instant panic; suppose he was a German? +Suppose she should be convicted for entertaining a spy! Then she +remembered his uniform and was slightly reassured. + +"I said would you come home to dinner with me?" she repeated weakly, +with a fervent prayer that he would decline. + +But the soldier had no such intention. He bowed gravely, and picked up +his hat and overcoat. + +Miss Mink, looking like a small tug towing a big steamer, shamefacedly +made her way to the nearest exit, and got him out through the +Sunday-school room. She would take him home through a side street, feed +him and send him away as soon as possible. It was a horrible ordeal, but +Miss Mink was not one to turn back once she had faced a difficult +situation. As they passed down the broad steps into the brilliant +October sunshine, she noticed with relief that his shoes were not +muddy. Then, before she could make other observations, her mind was +entirely preoccupied with a large, firm hand that grasped her elbow, and +seemed to half lift her slight weight from step to step. Miss Mink's +elbow was not used to such treatment and it indignantly freed itself +before the pavement was reached. The first square was traveled in +embarrassed silence, then Miss Mink made a heroic effort to break the +ice: + +"My name is Mink," she said, "Miss Libby Mink. I do dress-making over on +Sixth Street." + +"I am Bowinski," volunteered her tall companion, "first name Alexis. I +am a machinist before I enlist in the army." + +"I knew you were some sort of a Dago," said Miss Mink. + +"But no, Madame, I am Russian. My home is in Kiev in Ukrania." + +"Why on earth didn't you stay there?" Miss Mink asked from the depths of +her heart. + +The soldier looked at her earnestly. "Because of the persecution," he +said. "My father he was in exile. His family was suspect. I come alone +to America when I am but fifteen." + +"Well I guess you're sorry enough now that you came," Miss Mink said, +"Now that you've got drafted." + +They had reached her gate by this time, but Bowinski paused before +entering: "Madame mistakes!" he said with dignity. "I was _not_ drafted. +The day America enter the war, that day I give up my job I have held for +five years, and enlist. America is my country, she take me in when I +have nowhere to go. It is my proud moment when I fight for her!" + +Then it was that Miss Mink took her first real look at him, and if it +was a longer look than she had ever before bestowed upon man, we must +put it down to the fact that he was well worth looking at, with his tall +square figure, and his serious dark face lit up at the present with a +somewhat indignant enthusiasm. + +Miss Mink pushed open the gate and led the way into her narrow yard. She +usually entered the house by way of the side door which opened into the +dining room, which was also her bedroom by night, and her sewing room by +day. But this morning, after a moment's hesitation, she turned a key in +the rusty lock of the front door, and let a flood of sunshine dispel the +gloom of the room. The parlor had been furnished by Miss Mink's parents +some sixty years ago, and nothing had been changed. A customer had once +suggested that if the sofa was taken away from the window, and the table +put in its place, the room would be lighter. Miss Mink had regarded the +proposition as preposterous. One might as well have asked her to move +her nose around to the back of her head, or to exchange the positions of +her eyes and ears! + +You have seen a drop of water caught in a crystal? Well, that was what +Miss Mink was like. She moved in the tiniest possible groove with her +home at one end and her church at the other. Is it any wonder that when +she beheld a strange young foreigner sitting stiffly on her parlor sofa, +and realized that she must entertain him for at least an hour, that +panic seized her? + +"I better be seeing to dinner," she said hastily. "You can look at the +album till I get things dished up." + +Private Bowinski, surnamed Alexis, sat with knees awkwardly hunched and +obediently turned the leaves of the large album, politely scanning the +placid countenances of departed Minks for several generations. + +Miss Mink, moving about in the inner room, glanced in at him from time +to time. After the first glance she went to the small store room and got +out a jar of sweet pickle, and after the second she produced a glass of +crab apple jelly. Serving a soldier guest who had voluntarily adopted +her country, was after all not so distasteful, if only she did not have +to talk to him. But already the coming ordeal was casting its baleful +shadow. + +When they were seated opposite one another at the small table, her worst +fears were realized. They could neither of them think of anything to +say. If she made a move to pass the bread to him he insisted upon +passing it to her. When she rose to serve him, he rose to serve her. She +had never realized before how oppressive excessive politeness could be. + +The one point of consolation for her lay in the fact that he was +enjoying his dinner. He ate with a relish that would have flattered any +hostess. Sometimes when he put his knife in his mouth she winced with +apprehension, but aside from a few such lapses in etiquette he conducted +himself with solemn and punctilious propriety. + +When he had finished his second slice of pie, and pushed back his chair, +Miss Mink waited hopefully for him to say good-bye. He was evidently +getting out his car fare now, searching with thumb and forefinger in his +vest pocket. + +"If it is not to trouble you more, may I ask a match?" he said. + +"A match? What on earth do you want with a match?" demanded Miss Mink. +Then a look of apprehension swept over her face. Was this young man +actually proposing to profane the virgin air of her domicile with the +fumes of tobacco? + +"Perhaps you do not like that I should smoke?" Bowinski said instantly. +"I beg you excuse, I--" + +"Oh! that's all right," said Miss Mink in a tone that she did not +recognize as her own, "the matches are in that little bisque figure on +the parlor mantel. I'll get you to leave the front door open, if you +don't mind. It's kinder hot in here." + +Five o'clock that afternoon found Miss Mink and Alexis Bowinski still +sitting facing each other in the front parlor. They were mutually +exhausted, and conversation after having suffered innumerable relapses, +seemed about to succumb. + +"If there's any place else you want to go, you mustn't feel that you've +got to stay here," Miss Mink had urged some time after dinner. But +Alexis had answered: + +"I know only two place. The Camp and the railway depot. I go on last +Sunday to the railway depot. The Chaplain at the Camp advise me I go to +church this morning. Perhaps I make a friend." + +"But what do the other soldiers do on Sunday?" Miss Mink asked +desperately. + +"They promenade. Always promenade. Except they go to photo-plays, and +dance hall. It is the hard part of war, the waiting part." + +Miss Mink agreed with him perfectly as she helped him wait. She had +never spent such a long day in her life. At a quarter past five he rose +to go. A skillful word on her part would have expedited matters, but +Miss Mink was not versed in the social trick of speeding a departing +guest. Fifteen minutes dragged their weary length even after he was on +his feet. Then Miss Mink received a shock from which it took her an even +longer time to recover. Alexis Bowinski, having at last arrived at the +moment of departure, took her hand in his and, bowing awkwardly, raised +it to his lips and kissed it! Then he backed out of the cottage, stalked +into the twilight and was soon lost to sight beyond the hedge. + +Miss Mink sank limply on the sofa by the window, and regarded her small +wrinkled hand with stern surprise. It was a hand that had never been +kissed before and it was tingling in the strangest and most +unaccountable manner. + +The following week was lived in the afterglow of that eventful Sunday. +She described the soldier's visit in detail to the few customers who +came in. She went early to prayer-meeting in order to tell about it. And +in the telling she subordinated everything to the dramatic climax: + +"I never was so took back in my life!" she said. "After setting there +for four mortal hours with nothing to say, just boring each other to +death, for him to get up like that and make a regular play-actor bow, +and kiss my hand! Well, I never _was_ so took back!" + +And judging from the number of times Miss Mink told the story, and the +conscious smile with which she concluded it, it was evident that she was +not averse to being "took back." + +By the time Sunday arrived she had worked herself up to quite a state of +excitement. Would Bowinski he at church? Would he sit on her side of the +congregation? Would he wait after the service to speak to her? She put +on her best bonnet, which was usually reserved for funerals, and pinned +a bit of thread lace over the shabby collar of her coat. + +The moment she entered church all doubts were dispelled. There in her +pew, quite as if he belonged there, sat the tall young Russian. He even +stepped into the aisle for her to pass in, helped her off with her coat, +and found the place for her in the hymn-book. Miss Mink realized with a +glow of satisfaction, that many curious heads were craning in her +direction. For the first time since she had gone forward forty years ago +to confess her faith, she was an object of interest to the congregation! + +When the benediction was pronounced several women came forward +ostensibly to speak to her, but in reality to ask Bowinski to go home to +dinner with them. She waived them all aside. + +"No, he's going with me!" she announced firmly, and Bowinski obediently +picked up his hat and accompanied her. + +For the following month this scene was enacted each Sunday, with little +change to outward appearances but with great change to Miss Mink +herself. In the mothering of Bowinski she had found the great adventure +of her life. She mended his clothes, and made fancy dishes for him, she +knit him everything that could be knitted, including an aviator's helmet +for which he had no possible use. She talked about "my soldier" to any +one who would listen. + +Bowinski accepted her attention with grave politeness. He wore the +things she made for him, he ate the things she cooked for him, he +answered all her questions and kissed her hand at parting. Miss Mink +considered his behavior perfect. + +One snowy Sunday in late November Miss Mink was thrown into a panic by +his failure to appear on Sunday morning. She confided to Sister Bacon in +the adjoining pew that she was afraid he had been sent to France. Sister +Bacon promptly whispered to her husband that he _had_ been sent to +France, and the rumor spread until after church quite a little group +gathered around Miss Mink to hear about it. + +"What was his company?" some one asked. + +"Company C, 47th Infantry," Miss Mink repeated importantly. + +"Why, that's my boy's company," said Mrs. Bacon. "_They_ haven't gone to +France." + +The thought of her soldier being in the trenches even, was more +tolerable to Miss Mink than the thought of his being in town and failing +to come to her for Sunday dinner. + +"I bet he's sick," she announced. "I wish I could find out." + +Mrs. Bacon volunteered to ask her Jim about him, and three days later +stopped by Miss Mink's cottage to tell her that Bowinski had broken his +leg over a week before and was in the Base Hospital. + +"Can anybody go out there that wants to?" demanded Miss Mink. + +"Yes, on Sundays and Wednesdays. But you can't count on the cars running +to-day. Jim says everything's snowed under two feet deep." + +Miss Mink held her own counsel but she knew what she was going to do. +Her soldier was in trouble, he had no family or friends. She was going +to him. + +With trembling fingers she packed a small basket with some apples, a jar +of jelly and a slice of cake. There was no time for her own lunch, so +she hurriedly put on her coat and twisting a faded scarf about her neck +trudged out into the blustery afternoon. + +The blizzard of the day before had almost suspended traffic, and when +she finally succeeded in getting a car, it was only to find that it ran +no farther than the city limits. + +"How much farther is it to the Camp?" Miss Mink asked desperately. + +"About a mile," said the conductor. "I wouldn't try it if I was you, the +walking's fierce." + +But Miss Mink was not to be turned back. Gathering her skirts as high as +her sense of propriety would permit, and grasping her basket she set +bravely forth. The trip alone to the Camp, under the most auspicious +circumstances, would have been a trying ordeal for her, but under the +existing conditions it required nothing less than heroism. The snow had +drifted in places as high as her knees, and again and again she stumbled +and almost lost her footing as she staggered forward against the force +of the icy wind. + +Before she had gone half a mile she was ready to collapse with +nervousness and exhaustion. + +"Looks like I just can't make it," she whimpered, "and yet I'm going +to!" + +The honk of an automobile sent her shying into a snowdrift, and when she +caught her breath and turned around she saw that the machine had stopped +and a hand was beckoning to her from the window. + +"May I give you a lift?" asked a girl's high sweet voice and, looking +up, she saw a sparkling face smiling down at her over an upturned fur +collar. + +Without waiting to be urged she climbed into the machine, stumbled over +the rug, and sank exhausted on the cushions. + +"Give me your basket," commanded the young lady. "Now put your feet on +the heater. Sure you have room?" + +Miss Mink, still breathless, nodded emphatically. + +"It's a shame to ask anyone to ride when I'm so cluttered up," continued +the girl gaily. "I'm taking these things out to my sick soldier boys." + +Miss Mink, looking down, saw that the floor of the machine was covered +with boxes and baskets. + +"I'm going to the Hospital, too," she said. + +"That's good!" exclaimed the girl. "I can take you all the way. Perhaps +you have a son or a grandson out there?" + +Miss Mink winced. "No, he ain't any kin to me," she said, "but I been +sort of looking after him." + +"How sweet of you!" said the pouting red lips with embarrassing ardor. +"Just think of your walking out here this awful day at your age. Quite +sure you are getting warm?" + +Yes, Miss Mink was warm, but she felt suddenly old, old and shrivelled +beside this radiant young thing. + +"I perfectly adore going to the hospital," said the girl, her blue eyes +dancing. "Father's one of the medical directors, Major Chalmers, I +expect you've heard of him. I'm Lois Chalmers." + +But Miss Mink was scarcely listening. She was comparing the big luscious +looking oranges in the crate, with the hard little apples in her own +basket. + +"Here we are!" cried Lois, as the car plowed through the snow and mud +and stopped in front of a long shed-like building. Two orderlies sprang +forward with smiling alacrity and began unloading the boxes. + +"Aren't you the nicest ever?" cried Lois with a skillful smile that +embraced them both. "Those to the medical, those to the surgical, and +these to my little fat-faced Mumpsies." + +Miss Mink got herself and her basket out unassisted, then stood in doubt +as to what she should do next. She wanted to thank Miss Chalmers for her +courtesy, but two dapper young officers had joined the group around her +making a circle of masculine admirers. + +Miss Mink slipped away unnoticed and presented herself at the door +marked "Administration Building." + +"Can you tell me where the broken-legged soldiers are?" she asked +timidly of a man at a desk. + +"Who do you want to see?" + +"Alexis Bowinski. He come from Russia. He's got curly hair and big sort +of sad eyes, and--" + +"Bowinski," the man repeated, running his finger down a ledger, "A. +Bowinski, Surgical Ward 5-C. Through that door, two corridors to the +right midway down the second corridor." + +Miss Mink started boldly forth to follow directions, but it was not +until she had been ejected from the X-ray Room, the Mess Hall, and the +Officers' Quarters, that she succeeded in reaching her destination. By +that time her courage was at its lowest ebb. On either side of the long +wards were cots, on which lay men in various stages of undress. Now Miss +Mink had seen pajamas in shop windows, she had even made a pair once of +silk for an ambitious groom, but this was the first time she had ever +seen them, as it were, occupied. + +So acute was her embarrassment that she might have turned back at the +last moment, had her eyes not fallen on the cot nearest the door. There, +lying asleep, with his injured leg suspended from a pulley from which +depended two heavy weights, lay Bowinski. + +Miss Mink slipped into the chair between his cot and the wall. After the +first glance at his pale unshaven face and the pain-lined brow, she +forgot all about herself. She felt only overwhelming pity for him, and +indignation at the treatment to which he was being subjected. + +By and by he stirred and opened his eyes. + +"Oh you came!" he said, "I mean you not to know I be in hospital. You +must have the kindness not to trouble about me." + +"Trouble nothing," said Miss Mink, husky with emotion, "I never knew a +thing about it until to-day. What have they got you harnessed up like +this for?" + +Then Alexis with difficulty found the English words to tell her how his +leg had not set straight, had been re-broken and was now being forced +into proper position. + +"It is like hell, Madame," he concluded with a trembling lip, then he +drew a sharp breath, "But no, I forget, I am in the army. I beg you +excuse my complain." + +Miss Mink laid herself out to entertain him. She unpacked her basket, +and spread her meagre offerings before him. She described in detail all +the surgical operations she had ever had any experience with, following +some to their direst consequences. Alexis listened apathetically. Now +and then a spasm of pain contracted his face, but he uttered no word of +complaint. + +Only once during the afternoon did his eyes brighten. Miss Mink caught +the sudden change in his expression and, following his glance, saw Lois +Chalmers coming through the ward. She had thrown aside her heavy fur +coat, and her slim graceful little figure as alert as a bird's darted +from cart to cot as she tossed packages of cigarettes to right and left. + +"Here you are, Mr. Whiskers!" she was calling out gaily to one. "This is +for you, Colonel Collar Bone. Where's Cadet Limpy? Discharged? Good for +him! Hello, Mr. Strong Man!" For a moment she poised at the foot of +Bowinski's cot, then recognizing Miss Mink she nodded: + +"So you found your soldier? I'm going back to town in ten minutes, I'll +take you along if you like." + +She flitted out of the ward as quickly as she had come, leaving two long +rows of smiling faces in her wake. She had brought no pity, nor +tenderness, nor understanding, but she had brought her fresh young +beauty, and her little gift of gayety, and made men forget, at least for +a moment, their pain-racked bodies and their weary brains. + +Miss Mink reached her cottage that night weary and depressed. She had +had nothing to eat since breakfast, and yet was too tired to prepare +supper. She made her a cup of tea which she drank standing, and then +crept into bed only to lie staring into the darkness tortured by the +thought of those heavy weights on Bowinski's injured leg. + +The result of her weariness and exposure was a sharp attack of +tonsilitis that kept her in bed several weeks. The first time she was +able to be up, she began to count the hours until the next visiting day +at the Camp. Her basket was packed the evening before, and placed beside +the box of carnations in which she had extravagantly indulged. It is +doubtful whether Miss Mink was ever so happy in her life as during that +hour of pleased expectancy. + +As she moved feebly about putting the house in order, so that she could +make an early start in the morning, she discovered a letter that the +Postman had thrust under the side door earlier in the day. Across the +left hand corner was pictured an American flag, and across the right was +a red triangle in a circle. She hastily tore off the envelop and read: + + Dear Miss Mink: + + I am out the Hospital, getting along fine. Hope you are in the same + circumstances. I am sending you a book which I got from a Dear Young + Lady, in the Hospital. I really do not know what to call her because + I do not know her name, but I know she deserve a nice, nice name for + all good She dose to all soldiers. I think she deserve more + especially from me than to call her a Sweet Dear Lady, because that + I have the discouragement, and she make me to laugh and take heart. + I would ask your kind favor to please pass the book back to the + Young Lady, and pleas pass my thankful word to her, and if you might + be able to send me her name before that I go to France, which I + learn is very soon. Excuse all errors if you pleas will. This is + goodby from + + Your soldier friend, + A. BOWINSKI. + +Miss Mink read the letter through, then she sat down limply in a kitchen +chair and stared at the stove. Twice she half rose to get the pen and +ink on the shelf above the coal box, but each time she changed her mind, +folded her arms indignantly, and went back to her stern contemplation of +the stove. Presently a tear rolled down her cheek, then another, and +another until she dropped her tired old face in her tired old hands, and +gave a long silent sob that shook her slight body from head to foot. +Then she rose resolutely and sweeping the back of her hand across her +eyes, took down her writing materials. On one side of a post card she +wrote the address of Alexis Bowinski, and on the other she penned in +her cramped neat writing, one line: + +"Her name is Lois Chalmers. Hotel LeRoy." + +This done she unpacked her basket, put her half dozen carnations in a +tumbler of water and carried them into the dark parlor, pulled her chair +up to the kitchen table, drew the lamp closer and patiently went back to +her buttonholes. + + + + +A DARLING OF MISFORTUNE + + +A shabby but joyous citizen of the world at large was Mr. Phelan +Harrihan, as, with a soul wholly in tune with the finite, he half sat +and half reclined on a baggage-truck at Lebanon Junction. He wag +relieving the tedium of his waiting moments by entertaining a critical +if not fastidious audience of three. + +Beside him, with head thrust under his ragged sleeve, sat a small and +unlovely bull-terrier, who, at each fresh burst of laughter, lifted a +pair of languishing eyes to the face of his master, and then manifested +his surplus affection by ardently licking the buttons on the sleeve of +the arm that encircled him. + +It was a moot question whether Mr. Harrihan resembled his dog, or +whether his dog resembled him. That there was a marked similarity +admitted of no discussion. If Corp's nose had been encouraged and his +lower jaw suppressed, if his intensely emotional nature had been under +better control, and his sentimentality tempered with humor, the analogy +would have been more complete. In taste, they were one. By birth, +predilection, and instinct both were philosophers of the open, +preferring an untrammeled life in Vagabondia to the collars and +conventions of society. Both delighted in exquisite leisure, and spent +it in pleased acquiescence with things as they are. + +Some twenty-five years before, Phelan had opened his eyes upon a +half-circle of blue sky, seen through the end of a canvas-covered wagon +on a Western prairie, and having first conceived life to be a +free-and-easy affair on a long, open road, he thereafter declined to +consider it in any other light. + +The only break in his nomadic existence was when a benevolent old +gentleman found him, a friendless lad in a Nashville hospital, cursed +him through a fever, and elected to educate him. Those were years of +black captivity for Phelan, and after being crammed and coached for what +seemed an interminable time, he was proudly entered at the University, +where he promptly failed in every subject and was dropped at the +mid-year term. + +The old gentleman, fortunately, was spared all disappointment in regard +to his irresponsible protege, for he died before the catastrophe, +leaving Phelan Harrihan a legacy of fifteen dollars a month and the +memory of a kind, but misguided, old man who was not quite right in his +head. + +Being thus provided with a sum more than adequate to meet all his +earthly needs, Phelan joyously abandoned the straight and narrow path of +learning, and once more betook himself to the open road. + +The call of blue skies and green fields, the excitement of each day's +encounter, the dramatic possibilities of every passing incident, the +opportunity for quick and intimate fellowship, and above all an +inherited and chronic disinclination for work, made Phelan an easy +victim to that malady called by the casual tourist "wanderlust," but +known in Hoboland as "railroad fever." + +Only once a year did he return to civilization, don a stiff collar, and +recognize an institution. During his meteoric career at the University +he had been made a member of the Alpha Delta fraternity, in recognition +of his varied accomplishments. Not only could he sing and dance and tell +a tale with the best, but he was also a mimic and a ventriloquist, gifts +which had proven invaluable in crucial conflicts with the faculty, and +had constituted him a hero in several escapades. Of such material is +college history made, and the Alpha Delta, recognizing the distinction +of possessing this unique member, refused to accept his resignation, but +unanimously demanded his presence at each annual reunion. + +On June second, for five consecutive years, the ends of the earth had +yielded up Phelan Harrihan; by a miracle of grace he had arrived in +Nashville, decently appareled, ready to respond to his toast, to bask +for his brief hour in the full glare of the calcium, then to depart +again into oblivion. + +It was now the first day of June and as Phelan concluded his tale, +which was in fact an undress rehearsal of what he intended to tell on +the morrow, he looked forward with modest satisfaction to the triumph +that was sure to be his. For the hundredth time he made certain that the +small brown purse, so unused to its present obesity, was safe and sound +in his inside pocket. + +During the pause that followed his recital, his audience grew restive. + +"Go on, do it again," urged the ragged boy who sold the sandwiches, +"show us how Forty Fathom Dan looked when he thought he was sinking. + +"I don't dare trifle with me features," said Phelan solemnly. "How much +are those sandwiches. One for five, is it? Two for fifteen, I suppose. +Well, here's one for me, and one for Corp, and keep the change, kid. +Ain't that the train coming?" + +"It's the up train," said the station-master, rising reluctantly; "it +meets yours here. I've got to be hustling." + +Phelan, left without an audience, strolled up and down the platform, +closely followed by Corporal Harrihan. + +As the train slowed up at the little Junction, there was manifestly some +commotion on board. Standing in the doorway of the rear car a small, +white-faced woman argued excitedly with the conductor. + +"I didn't have no ticket, I tell you!" she was saying as the train came +to a stop. "I 'lowed I'd pay my way, but I lost my pocket-book. I lost +it somewheres on the train here, I don't know where it is!" + +"I've seen your kind before," said the conductor wearily; "what did you +get on for when you didn't have anything to pay your fare with?" + +"I tell you I lost my pocket-book after I got on!" she said doggedly; "I +ain't going to get off, you daren't put me off!" + +Phelan, who had sauntered up, grew sympathetic. He, too, had experienced +the annoyance of being pressed for his fare when it was inconvenient to +produce it. + +"Go ahead," demanded the conductor firmly, "I don't want to push you +off, but if you don't step down and out right away, I'll have it to do." + +The woman's expression changed from defiance to terror. She clung to the +brake with both hands and looked at him fearfully. + +"No, no, don't touch me!" she cried. "Don't make me get off! I've got to +get to Cincinnati. My man's there. He's been hurt in the foundry. +He's--maybe he's dying now." + +"I can't help that, maybe it's so and maybe it ain't. You never had any +money when you got on this train and you know it. Go on, step off!" + +"But I did!" she cried wildly; "I did. Oh, God! don't put me off." + +The train began to move, and the conductor seized the woman's arms from +behind and forced her forward. A moment more and she would be pushed off +the lowest step. She turned beseeching eyes on the little group of +spectators, and as she did so Phelan Harrihan sprang forward and with +his hand on the railing, ran along with the slow-moving train. + +With a deft movement he bent forward and apparently snatched something +from the folds of her skirt. + +"Get on to your luck now," he said with an encouraging smile that played +havoc with the position of his features; "if here ain't your pocket-book +all the time!" + +The hysterical woman looked from the unfamiliar little brown purse in +her hand, to the snub-nosed, grimy face of the young man running along +the track, then she caught her breath. + +"Why,--" she cried unsteadily, "yes--yes, it's my purse." + +Phelan loosened his hold on the railing and had only time to scramble +breathlessly up the bank before the down train, the train for Nashville +which was to have been his, whizzed past. + +He watched it regretfully as it slowed up at the station, then almost +immediately pulled out again for the south, carrying his hopes with it. + +"Corporal," said Phelan, to the dog, who had looked upon the whole +episode as a physical-culture exercise indulged in for his special +benefit, "a noble act of charity is never to be regretted, but wasn't I +the original gun, not to wait for the change?" + +His lack of business method seemed to weigh upon him, and he continued +to apologize to Corporal: + +"It was so sudden, you know, Corp. Couldn't see a lady ditched, when I +had a bit of stuffed leather in my pocket. And two hundred miles to +Nashville! Well I'll--be--jammed!" + +He searched in his trousers pockets and found a dime in one and a hole +in the other. It was an old trick of his to hide a piece of money in +time of prosperity, and then discover it in the blackness of adversity. + +He held the dime out ruefully: "That's punk and plaster for supper, but +we'll have to depend on a hand-out for breakfast. And, Corp," he added +apologetically, "you know I told you we was going to ride regular like +gentlemen? Well, I've been compelled to change my plans. We are going to +turf it twelve miles down to the watering tank, and sit out a couple of +dances till the midnight freight comes along. If a side door Pullman +ain't convenient, I'll have to go on the bumpers, then what'll become of +you, Mr. Corporal Harrihan?" + +The coming ordeal cast no shadow over Corporal. He was declaring his +passionate devotion, by wild tense springs at Phelan's face, seeking in +vain to overcome the cruel limitation of a physiognomy that made kissing +well-nigh impossible. + +Phelan picked up his small bundle and started down the track with the +easy, regular swing of one who has long since gaged the distance of +railroad ties. But his step lacked its usual buoyancy, and he forgot to +whistle, Mr. Harrihan was undergoing the novel experience of being +worried. Of course he would get to Nashville,--if the train went, _he_ +could go,--but the prospect of arriving without decent clothes and with +no money to pay for a lodging, did not in the least appeal to him. He +thought with regret of his well-laid plans: an early arrival, a Turkish +bath, the purchase of a new outfit, instalment at a good hotel, +then--presentation at the fraternity headquarters of Mr. Phelan +Harrihan, Gentleman for a Night. He could picture it all, the dramatic +effect of his entrance, the yell of welcome, the buzz of questions, and +the evasive, curiosity-enkindling answers which he meant to give. Then +the banquet, with its innumerable courses of well-served food, the +speeches and toasts, and the personal ovation that always followed Mr. +Harrihan's unique contribution. + +Oh! he couldn't miss it! Providence would interfere in his behalf, he +knew it would, it always did. "Give me my luck, and keep your lucre!" +was a saying of Phelan's, quoted by brother hoboes from Maine to the +Gulf. + +All the long afternoon he tramped the ties, with Corporal at his heels. +As dusk came on the clouds that had been doing picket duty, joined the +regiment on the horizon which slowly wheeled and charged across the sky. +Phelan scanned the heavens with an experienced weather eye, then began +to look for a possible shelter from the coming shower. On either side, +the fields stretched away in undulating lines, with no sign of a +habitation in sight. A dejected old scarecrow, and a tumble-down shed in +the distance were the only objects that presented themselves. + +Turning up his coat-collar Phelan made a dash for the shed, but the +shower overtook him half-way. It was not one of your gentle little +summer showers, that patter on the shingles waking echoes underneath; it +was a large and instantaneous breakage in the celestial plumbing that +let gallons of water down Phelan's back, filling his pockets, hat brim, +and shoes and sending a dashing cascade down Corporal's oblique profile. + +"Float on your back, Corp, and pull for the shore!" laughed Phelan as he +landed with a spring under the dilapidated shed. "Cheer up, old pard; +you look as if all your past misdeeds had come before you in your +drowning hour." + +Corporal, shivering and unhappy, crept under cover, and dumbly demanded +of Phelan what he intended to do about it. + +"Light a blaze, sure," said Phelan, "and linger here in the air of the +tropics till the midnight freight comes along." + +Scraping together the old wood and debris in the rear of the shed, and +extricating with some difficulty a small tin match-box from his +saturated clothes, he knelt before the pile and used all of his +persuasive powers to induce it to ignite. + +At the first feeble blaze Corporal's spirits rose so promptly that he +had to be restrained. + +"Easy there! Corp," cautioned Phelan. "A fire's like a woman, you can't +be sure of it too soon. And, dog alive, stop wagging your tail, don't +you see it makes a draft?" + +The fire capriciously would, then it wouldn't. A tiny flame played +tantalizingly along the top of a stick only to go sullenly out when it +reached the end. Match after match was sacrificed to the cause, but at +last, down deep under the surface, there was a steady, reassuring, +cheerful crackle that made Phelan sit back on his heels, and remark +complacently: + +"They most generally come around, in the end!" + +In five minutes the fire was burning bright, Corporal was dreaming of +meaty bones in far fence corners, and Phelan, less free from the +incumbrances of civilization, was divesting himself of his rain-soaked +garments. + +From one of the innumerable pockets of his old cutaway coat he took a +comb and brush and clothes-brush, and carefully deposited them before +the fire. Then from around his neck he removed a small leather case, +hung by a string and holding a razor. His treasured toilet articles thus +being cared for, he turned his attention to the contents of his dripping +bundle. A suit of underwear and a battered old copy of Eli Perkins were +ruefully examined, and spread out to dry. + +The fire, while it lasted, was doing admirable service, but the wood +supply was limited, and Phelan saw that he must take immediate advantage +of the heat. How to dry the underwear which he wore was the question +which puzzled him, and he wrestled with it for several moments before an +inspiration came. + +"I'll borrow some duds from the scarecrow!" he said half aloud, and +went forth immediately to execute his idea. + +The rain had ceased, but the fields were still afloat, and Phelan waded +ankle deep through the slush grass, to where the scarecrow raised his +threatening arms against the twilight sky. + +"Beggars and borrowers shouldn't be choosers," said Phelan, as he +divested the figure of its ragged trousers and coat, "but I have a +strong feeling in my mind that these habiliments ain't going to become +me. Who's your tailor, friend?" + +The scarecrow, reduced now to an old straw hat and a necktie, maintained +a dignified and oppressive silence. + +"Well, he ain't on to the latest cut," continued Phelan, wringing the +water out of the coat. "But maybe these here is your pajamas? Don't tell +me I disturbed you after you'd retired for the night? Very well then, +aurevoy." + +With the clothes under his arm he made his way back to the shed, and +divesting himself of his own raiment he got into his borrowed property. + +By this time the fire had died down, and the place was in +semi-darkness. Phelan threw on a handful of sticks and, as the blaze +flared up, he caught his first clear sight of his newly acquired +clothes. They were ragged and weather-stained, and circled about with +broad, unmistakable stripes. + +"Well, I'll be spiked!" said Phelan, vastly amused. "I wouldn't 'a' +thought it of a nice, friendly scarecrow like that! Buncoed me, didn't +he? Well, feathers don't always make the jail-bird. Wonder what poor +devil wore 'em last? Peeled out of 'em in this very shed, like as not. +Well, they'll serve my purpose all right, all right." + +He took off his shoes, placed them under his head for a pillow, lit a +short cob pipe, threw on fresh wood, and prepared to wait for his +clothes to dry. + +Meanwhile the question of the banquet revolved itself continually in his +mind. This time to-morrow night, the preparations would be in full +swing. Instead of being hungry, half naked, and chilled, he might be in +a luxurious club-house dallying with caviar, stuffed olives, and +Benedictine. All that lay between him and bliss were two hundred miles +of railroad ties and a decent suit of clothes! + +"Wake up, Corp; for the love of Mike be sociable!" cried Phelan when the +situation became too gloomy to contemplate. "Ain't that like a dog now? +Hold your tongue when I'm longing for a word of kindly sympathy an' +encouragement, and barking your fool head off once we get on the +freight. Much good it'll be doing us to get to Nashville in this fix, +but we'll take our blessings as they come, Corp, and just trust to luck +that somebody will forget to turn 'em off. I know when I get to the +banquet there'll be one other man absent. That's Bell of Terre Haute. +Him and me is always in the same boat, he gets ten thousand a year and +ain't got the nerve to spend it, and I get fifteen a month, and ain't +got the nerve to keep it! Poor old Bell." + +Corporal, roused from his slumbers, sniffed inquiringly at the many +garments spread about the fire, yawned, turned around several times in +dog fashion, then curled up beside Phelan, signifying by his bored +expression that he hadn't the slightest interest in the matter under +discussion. + +Gradually the darkness closed in, and the fire died to embers. It would +be four hours before the night freight slowed up at the water tank, and +Phelan, tired from his long tramp, and drowsy from the heat and the +vapor rising from the drying clothes, shifted the shoe-buttons from +under his left ear, and drifted into dreamland. + +How long he slept undisturbed, only the scarecrow outside knew. He was +dimly aware, in his dreams, of subdued sounds and, by and by, the sounds +formed themselves into whispered words and, still half asleep, he +listened. + +"I thought we'd find him along here. This is the road they always take," +a low voice was saying; "you and Sam stand here, John and me'll tackle +him from this side. He'll put up a stiff fight, you bet." + +Phelan opened his eyes, and tried to remember where he was. + +"Gosh! look at that bulldog!" came another whisper, and at the same +moment Corporal jumped to his feet, growling angrily. + +As he did so, four men sprang through the opening of the shed, and +seized Phelan by the arms and legs. + +"Look out there," cried one excitedly; "don't let him escape; here's the +handcuffs." + +"But here," cried Phelan, "what's up; what you doing to me?" + +By this time Corporal, thoroughly roused, made a vicious lunge at the +nearest man. The next minute there was a sharp report of a pistol, and +the bull-terrier went yelping and limping out into the night. + +"You coward!" cried Phelan, struggling to rise, "if you killed that +dog--" + +"Get those shackles on his legs," shouted one of the men. "Is the wagon +ready, Sam? Take his legs there, I've got his head. Leave the truck +here, we've got to drive like sand to catch that train!" + +After being dragged to the road and thrown into a spring wagon, Phelan +found himself lying on his back, jolting over a rough country road, his +three vigilant captors sitting beside him with pistols in hand. + +Any effort on his part to explain or seek information was promptly and +emphatically discouraged. But in time he gathered, from the bits let +fall by his captors, that he was an escaped convict, of a most desperate +character, for whom a reward was offered, and that he had been at large +twenty-four hours. + +In vain did he struggle for a hearing. Only once did he get a response +to his oft-repeated plea of innocence. It was when he told how he had +come by the clothes he had on. For once Phelan got a laugh when he did +not relish it. + +"Got 'em off a scarecrow, did you?" said the man at his head, when the +fun had subsided; "say, I want to be 'round when you tell that to the +Superintendent of the Penitentiary--I ain't heard him laugh in ten +years!" + +So, in the face of such unbelief, Phelan lapsed into silence and gloom. +What became of him concerned him less, at the moment, than the fate of +Corporal, and the thought of the faithful little beast wounded and +perhaps dying out there in the fields, made him sick at heart. + +Just as they came in sight of the lights of the station, the whistle of +the freight was heard down the track and the horses were beaten to a +gallop. + +Phelan was hurried from the wagon into an empty box car, with his full +guard in attendance. As the train pulled out he heard a little whimper +beside him and there, panting for breath after his long run, and with +one ear hanging limp and bloody, cowered Corporal. Phelan's hands were +not at his disposal, but even if they had been it is doubtful if he +would have denied Corp the joy for once of kissing him. + +Through the rest of the night the heavy cars rumbled over the rails, and +the men took turn about sleeping and guarding the prisoner. Only once +did Phelan venture another question: + +"Say, you sports, you don't mind telling me where you are taking me, do +you?" + +"Listen at his gaff!" said one. "He'll know all right when he gets to +Nashville." + +Phelan sent such a radiant smile into the darkness that it threatened +to reveal itself. Then he slipped his encircled wrists about Corporal's +body and giving him a squeeze whispered: + +"It's better'n the bumpers, Corp." + +At the Penitentiary next day there was consternation and dismay when +instead of the desperate criminal, who two days before had scaled the +walls and dropped to freedom, an innocent little Irishman was presented, +whose only offense apparently was in having donned, temporarily, the +garb of crime. + +As the investigation proceeded, Phelan found it expedient, to become +excessively indignant. That an American citizen, strolling harmlessly +through the fields of a summer evening, and being caught in a shower, +should attempt to dry his clothes in an unused shed, and find himself +attacked and bound, and hurried away without his belongings to a distant +city, was an inconceivable outrage. If a shadow of doubt remained as to +his identity, a score of prominent gentlemen in the city would be able +to identify him. He named them, and added that he was totally unable to +hazard a guess as to what form their resentment of his treatment would +assume. + +The authorities looked grave. Could Mr. Harrihan remember just what +articles he had left behind? Mr. Harrihan could. A suit of clothes, a +pair of shoes, a hat, a toilet set, and a small sum of money; "the loss +of which," added Phelan with a fine air of indifference, "are as nothing +compared to the indignity offered to my person." + +Would the gentleman be satisfied if the cost of these articles, together +with the railroad fare back to Lebanon Junction be paid him? The +gentleman, after an injured pause, announced that he would. + +And thus it was that Mr. Phelan Harrihan, in immaculate raiment, +presented himself at the Sixth Annual Reunion of the Alpha Delta +fraternity and, with a complacent smile encircling a ten-cent cigar, won +fresh laurels by recounting, with many adornments, the adventures of the +previous night. + + + + +"POP" + + +The gloomy corridor in the big Baltimore hospital was still and deserted +save for a nurse who sat at a flat-topped desk under a green lamp +mechanically transferring figures from one chart to another. It was the +period of quiet that usually precedes the first restless stirring of the +sick at the breaking of dawn. The silence was intense as only a silence +can be that waits momentarily for an interrupting sound. + +Suddenly it came in a prolonged, imperative ring of the telephone bell. +So insistent was the call that the nurse's hand closed over the +transmitter long before the burr ceased. The office was notifying Ward B +that an emergency case had been brought in and an immediate operation +was necessary. + +With prompt efficiency the well-ordered machinery for saving human life +was put in motion. Soft-footed nurses emerged from the shadows and +moved quickly about, making necessary arrangements. A trim, comely +woman, straight of feature and clear of eye, gave directions in low +decisive tones. When the telephone rang the second time she answered it. + +"Yes, Office," she said, "this is Miss Fletcher. They are not going to +operate? Too late? I see. Very well. Send the patient up to No. 16. +Everything is ready." + +Even as she spoke the complaining creak of the elevator could he heard, +and presently two orderlies appeared at the end of the corridor bearing +a stretcher. + +Beside it, with head erect and jaw set, strode a strangely commanding +figure. Six feet two he loomed in the shadows, a gaunt, raw-boned old +mountaineer. On his head was a tall, wide-brimmed hat and in his right +hand he carried a bulky carpet sack. The left sleeve of his long-tailed +coat hung empty to the elbow. The massive head with its white flowing +beard and hawklike face, the beaked nose and fierce, deep-set eyes, +might have served as a model for Michael Angelo when he modeled his +immortal Moses. + +As the orderlies passed through the door of No. 16 and lowered the +stretcher, the old man put down his carpet sack and grimly watched the +nurse uncover the patient. Under the worn homespun coverlet, stained +with the dull dyes of barks and berries, lay an emaciated figure, just +as it had been brought into the hospital. One long coarse garment +covered it, and the bare feet with their prominent ankle bones and the +large work-hardened hands might have belonged to either a boy or a girl. + +"Take that thar head wrappin' off!" ordered the old man peremptorily. + +A nurse carefully unwound the rough woolen scarf and as she did so a +mass of red hair fell across the pillow, hair that in spite of its +matted disorder showed flashes of gleaming gold. + +"We'll get her on the bed," a night nurse said to an assistant. "Put +your arm under her knees. Don't jar the stretcher!" + +Before the novice could obey another and a stronger arm was thrust +forward. + +"Stand back thar, some of you-uns," commanded a loud voice, "I'll holp +move Sal myself." + +In vain were protests from nurses and orderlies alike, the old +mountaineer seemed bent on making good use of his one arm and with quick +dexterity he helped to lift her on the bed. + +"Now, whar's the doctor?" he demanded, standing with feet far apart and +head thrown back. + +The doctor was at the desk in the corridor, speaking to Miss Fletcher in +an undertone: + +"We only made a superficial examination down-stairs," he was saying, +"but it is evidently a ruptured appendix. If she's living in a couple of +hours I may be able to operate. But it's ten to one she dies on the +table." + +"Who are they, and where did they come from?" Miss Fletcher asked +curiously. + +"Their name is Hawkins, and they are from somewhere in the Kentucky +mountains. Think of his starting with her in that condition! He can't +read or write; it's the first time he has ever been in a city. I am +afraid he's going to prove troublesome. You'd better get him out of +there as soon as possible." + +But anyone, however mighty in authority, who proposed to move Jeb +Hawkins when he did not choose to be moved reckoned unknowingly. All +tactics were exhausted from suggestion to positive command, and the +rules of the hospital were quoted in vain. + +In the remote regions where Jeb lived there were no laws to break. Every +man's home was his stronghold, to be protected at the point of a pistol. +He was one of the three million people of good Anglo-Saxon stock who had +been stranded in the highlands when the Cumberland Mountains dammed the +stream of humanity that swept westward through the level wilderness. +Development had been arrested so long in Jeb and his ancestors that the +outside world, its interests and its mode of living, was a matter of +supreme and profound indifference. A sudden and unprecedented emergency +had driven him to the "Settlements." His girl had developed an ailment +that baffled the skill of the herb doctors; so, following one bit of +advice after another, he had finally landed in Baltimore. And now that +the terrible journey was ended and Sal was in the hands of the doctor +who was to work the cure, the wholly preposterous request was made of +him that he abandon her to her fate! + +With dogged determination he sat beside the bed, and chewed silently and +stolidly through the argument. + +"You gals mought ez well save yer wind," he announced at last. "Ef Sal +stays, I stay. Ef I go, Sal goes. We ain't axin' favors of nobody." + +He was so much in the way during the necessary preparations for the +possible operation that finally Miss Fletcher was appealed to. She was a +woman accustomed to giving orders and to having them obeyed; but she was +also a woman of tact. Ten minutes of valuable time were spent in +propitiating the old man before she suggested that he come with her into +the corridor while the nurses straightened the room. A few minutes later +she returned, smiling: + +"I've corralled him in the linen closet," she whispered; "he is +unpacking his carpet sack as if he meant to take up his abode with us." + +"I am afraid," said the special nurse, glancing toward the bed, "he +won't have long to stay. How do you suppose he ever got her here?" + +"I asked him. He said he drove her for three days in an ox-cart along +the creek bottom until they got to Jackson. Then he told the ticket +agent to send them to the best hospital the train ran to. Neither of +them had ever seen a train before. It's a miracle she's lived this +long." + +"Does he realize her condition?" + +"I don't know. I suppose I ought to tell him that the end may come at +any time." + +But telling him was not an easy matter as Miss Fletcher found when she +joined him later in the linen closet. He was busy spreading his varied +possessions along the shelves on top of the piles of immaculate linen, +stopping now and then to refresh himself with a bite of salt pork and +some corn pone that had been packed for days along with Sally's shoes +and sunbonnet and his own scanty wardrobe. + +"I suppose you know," Miss Fletcher began gently, trying not to show her +chagrin at the state of the room, "that your daughter is in a very +serious condition." + +He looked at her sharply. "Shucks! Sal'll pull through," he said with +mingled defiance and alarm. "You ain't saw her afore in one of them +spells. Besides, hit meks a difference when a gal's paw and grandpaw and +great-grandpaw was feud-followers. A feud-follower teks more killin' +then ordinary folks. Her maw was subjec' to cramp colic afore her." + +"But this isn't cramp colic," Miss Fletcher urged, "it's her appendix, +and it wasn't taken in time." + +"Well, ain't they goin' to draw it?" he asked irritably. "Ain't that +whut we're here fer?" + +"Yes; but you don't understand. The doctor may decide _not_, to +operate." + +The old man's face wore a puzzled look, then his lips hardened: + +"Mebbe hit's the money thet's a-woriyin' him. You go toll him that Jeb +Hawkins pays ez he goes! I got pension money sewed in my coat frum the +hem clean up to the collar. I hain't askin' none of you to cure my gal +fer nothin'!" + +Miss Fletcher laid her hand on his arm. It was a shapely hand as well as +a kindly one. + +"It isn't a question of money," she said quietly, "it's a question of +life or death. There is only a slight chance that your daughter will +live through the day." + +Someone tapped at the door and Miss Fletcher, after a whispered +consultation, turned again to the old man: + +"They have decided to take the chance," she said hurriedly. "They are +carrying her up now. You stay here, and I will let you know as soon as +it is over." + +"Whar they fetching her to?" he demanded savagely. + +"To the operating-room." + +"You take me thar!" + +"But you can't go, Mr. Hawkins. No one but the surgeons and nurses can +be with her. Besides, the nurse who was just here said she had regained +consciousness, and it might excite her to see you." + +She might as well have tried to stop a mountain torrent. He brushed past +her and was making his way to the elevator before she had ceased +speaking. At the open door of the operating-room on the fourth floor he +paused. On a long white table lay the patient, a white-clad doctor on +either side of her, and a nurse in the background sorting a handful of +gleaming instruments. With two strides the old man reached the girl's +side. + +"Sal!" he said fiercely, bending over her, "air ye wuss?" + +Her dazed eyes cleared slightly. + +"I dunno, Pop," she murmured feebly. + +"Ye ain't fixin' to die, air ye?" he persisted. + +"I dunno, Pop." + +"Don't you let 'em skeer you," he commanded sternly. "You keep on +a-fightin'. Don't you dare give up. Sal, do you hear me?" + +The girl's wavering consciousness steadied, and for a moment the +challenge that the old man flung at death was valiantly answered in her +pain-racked eyes. + +For an hour and a half the surgeons worked. The case, critical enough at +best, was greatly complicated by the long delay. Twice further effort +seemed useless, and it was only by the prompt administration of oxygen +that the end was averted. During the nerve-racking suspense Pop not only +refused to leave the room, he even refused to stand back from the table. +With keen, suspicious eyes he followed every movement of the surgeons' +hands. Only once did he speak out, and that was in the beginning, to an +interne who was administering the anaesthetic: + +"Lift that funnel, you squash-headed fool!" he thundered; "don't you see +hit's marking of her cheek?" + +When the work was finished and the unconscious patient had been taken +down to her ward, Pop still kept his place beside her. With his hand on +her pulse he watched her breathing, watched the first faint quivering of +her lids, the restlessness that grew into pain and later into agony. +Hour after hour he sat there and passed with her through that +crucifixion that follows some capital operations. + +On his refusal at luncheon time to leave the bedside Miss Fletcher +ignored the rules and sent him a tray; but when night came and he still +refused to go, she became impatient. + +"You can't stay in here to-night, Mr. Hawkins," she said firmly. "I have +asked one of the orderlies, who lives nearby, to take you home with him. +We can send for you if there is any change. I must insist that you go +now." + +"Ain't I made it cl'ar from the start," cried Pop angrily, "thet I ain't +a-goin' to be druv out? You-uns kin call me muley-headed or whatever +you've a mind to. Sal's always stood by me, and by golly, I'm a-goin' to +stand by Sal!" + +His raised voice roused the patient, and a feeble summons brought Miss +Fletcher to the bedside. + +"Say," plead the girl faintly, "don't rile Pop. He's the--fightenest +man--in--Breathitt--when his blood's--up." + +"All right, dear," said Miss Fletcher, with a soothing hand on the hot +brow; "he shall do as he likes." + +During that long night the girl passed from one paroxysm of pain to +another with brief intervals of drug-induced sleep. During the quiet +moments the nurse snatched what rest she could; but old Jeb Hawkins +stuck to his post in the straight-backed chair, never nodding, never +relaxing the vigilance of his watch. For Pop was doing sentry duty, much +as he had done it in the old days of the Civil War, when he had answered +Lincoln's first call for volunteers and given his left arm for his +country. + +But the enemy to-night was mysterious, crafty, one that might come in +the twinkling of an eye, and a sentry at seventy is not what he was at +twenty-two. When the doctor arrived in the morning he found the old man +haggard with fatigue. + +"This won't do, Mr. Hawkins," he said kindly; "you must get some rest." + +"Be she goin' to die?" Pop demanded, steadying himself by a chair. + +"It is too soon to tell," the doctor said evasively; "but I'll say this +much, her pulse is better than I expected. Now, go get some sleep." + +Half an hour later a strange rumbling sound puzzled the nurses in Ward +B. It came at regular intervals, rising from a monotonous growl to a +staccato, then dying away in a plaintive diminuendo. It was not until +one of the nurses needed clean sheets that the mystery was explained. On +the floor of the linen closet, stretched on his back with his carpet +sack under his head and his empty sleeve across his chest, lay Pop! + +From that time on the old mountaineer became a daily problem to Ward B. +It is true, he agreed in time to go home at night with the orderly; but +by six in the morning he was sitting on the hospital steps, impatiently +awaiting admission. The linen closet was still regarded by him as his +private apartment, to which he repaired at such times as he could not +stay in Sally's room, and refreshed himself with the luncheon he brought +with him each day. + +During the first week, when the girl's life hung in the balance, he was +granted privileges which he afterward refused to relinquish. The +hospital confines, after the freedom of the hills, chafed him sorely. As +the days grew warmer he discarded his coat, collar, and at times his +shoes. + +"I 'low I'm goin' to tek Sal home next week!" became his daily threat. + +But the days and weeks slipped by, and still the girl lay with a low, +consuming fever, and still Pop watched by her side, showing her no +affection by word or gesture but serving her and anticipating her every +want with a thoroughness that left little for the nurses to do. + +In some way Miss Fletcher had gained his confidence. To her he intrusted +the bills which he ripped from his coat at the end of each week with the +instruction that she "pay off them boys down in the office fa'r an' +squar', but not to 'low 'em to cheat her." It may have been her growing +interest in the invalid that won his favor, for she came in often to +chat awhile with Sally and sometimes brought up a handful of flowers to +brighten the sick room. + +"She's getting better," she said one morning as she held the girl's big +bony hand and looked down at the thin bright face in its frame of +shining hair. "We'll have her sitting up now before long." + +Pop's whole aspect brightened. + +"Ef Sal onct begins to git well, can't none of 'em beat her," he said +proudly. + +"Have you any other children?" Miss Fletcher asked. + +"Lord, yes," said Pop, "heaps of 'em. Thar's Ted an' Larkin, an' +Gus,--they wuz all kilt in feud fights. An' Burt an' Jim,--they're in +jail in Jackson fer moonshinin'. Four more died when they wuz babies. +An' they ain't nary a one at home now but jes' Sal." + +"How old is she?" + +"Seventeen or eighteen, mebbe." + +"And she tells me she has never been to school." + +"Thar warn't no needcessity," said Pop complacently, taking a long twist +of tobacco from his pocket. "Sal don't need no larnin'. She's pearter +then most gals thet's got book sense. You show me ary one of these gals +round here thet kin spin an' weave the cloth to mek ther own dresses, +thet kin mold candles, an' mek soap, an' hoe terbaccy, an' handle a +rifle good ez a man." + +"But, Mr. Hawkins," insisted Miss Fletcher, "there are better things +than those for us to learn. Haven't you ever felt the need of an +education yourself?" + +Pop looked at her suspiciously: "Look a-here, young woman. I'm nigh on +to seventy. I never hed a doctor but onct in my life, an' then he +chopped my arm off when it might hev got well whar it wuz. I kin plow, +an' fell trees, an' haul wood. Thar ain't a log-rollin' ner a +house-raisin' in our neck of the woods thet Jeb Hawkins ain't sent fer. +I kin h'ist a barrel with the best of 'em, and shake up Ole Dan Tucker +ez peart ez the next one. Now how about yer scholards? This here +horspittle is full of 'em. Pale-faced, spindly-legged, nerve-jerking +young fellows thet has spent ther fust twenty years gittin' larnin', +an' ther next twenty gittin' over hit. Me an' Sal will keep to the +open!" + +But Sally was not so confident. As her strength began to return she took +a growing interest in all that went on around her, asking eager, +intelligent questions and noting with wistful curiosity the speech and +manners of the nurses who served her. She was a raw recruit from Nature, +unsophisticated, illiterate. Under a bondage of poverty and drudgery she +had led her starved life in the mountain fastnesses; but now she had +opened her eyes on a new and unexpected world. + +"How do you go about gittin' a larnin'?" she ventured at last to ask one +of the friendly nurses. "Can't you fetch me up some of them thar picter +books?" + +For hours after this she pored over her new treasures, until one day +Miss Fletcher brought her a primer, and the seventeen-year-old girl +grappled for the first time with the alphabet. After that she was loath +to have the book out of her hand, going painfully and slowly over the +lessons, mastering each in turn with patient perseverance. + +Pop viewed this proceeding with disfavor. He seemed to sense the +entering wedge that was to separate her from him. His pride in her +accomplishment was overshadowed by his jealousy, and when she was able +to read a whole page and attempted to explain the intricate process to +him, he was distinctly cast down. He left the hospital that afternoon +for the first time, and was gone until dusk. When he returned he carried +a bunch of faded wild flowers that he had tramped two miles in the +country to get for his girl. + +May dragged into June, and still they were kept at the hospital. The old +man became as restless as a caged animal; he paced the corridors for +hours at a time and his eyes grew furtive and defiant. He, who had lived +out of sight of the smoke from his nearest neighbor's chimneys, who had +spent his life in the vast, still solitudes of the hills, was incredibly +lonely here among his fellow men. + +"If Pop has to stay here much longer, I'm afraid he'll smash the +furniture," said the night nurse who, like everybody else in the ward, +had grown interested in the old man. "He packs his things every morning +before the doctor comes, only to unpack them after he leaves." + +"The confinement is telling on him," said Miss Fletcher. "I wish for his +sake they could start home to-day. But I do hate to see Sally go! The +girl is getting her first taste of civilization, and I've never seen +anyone so eager to learn. We have to take the books away from her every +day, and when she can't study she begs to be allowed to roll bandages. +The third day she sat up she wanted to help nurse the other patients. + +"I am afraid we have spoiled her for hoeing tobacco, and planting corn," +said the night nurse. + +"I hope so," Miss Fletcher answered fervently. + +It was nearly the last of June when the doctor dismissed his patient. +"This doesn't mean that she is well," he warned Pop. "You will have to +be careful of her for a long time. She has worked too hard for a growing +girl, and she's not as strong now as she was." + +"She will be!" Pop responded confidently. "That thar gal is made outen +iron! Her maw was afore her. Liza wuz my third wife, an' she'd borned +six or seven children, when she died at thirty-five, an', by Joshuy, +she'd never once hed a doctor in all her life!" + +Pop's joy over their dismissal was slightly dimmed by Sally's reception +of the news. He saw her draw a long breath and bite her lips; then he +saw what he had never seen since she was a baby, two large tears gather +slowly in her eyes and roll down on the pillow. He watched them in +amazement. + +"Sal, whut ails ye?" he asked anxiously, after the doctor was gone. + +"I want to git a larnin'!" she broke out. "I don't want to go back to +the hills." + +Instantly the old man's face, which had been tender, hardened to a mask +of fury. + +"That passel of fool women's been workin' on ye," he cried hoarsely, +"larnin', larnin', thet's all they know. Ain't the Fork good enough fer +ye? Ain't the cabin whar yer paw, an' yer grandpaw, an' yer +great-grandpaw was borned good enough for ye?" + +"Yes, Pop, yes!" she gasped, terrified at the storm she had raised. "I'm +a-goin' back with you. Don't tek on so, Pop, I'm a-goin'!" + +But the tempest was raging, and the old man got up and strode angrily up +and down the small room, filling the air with his indignation. + +"I should say you _wuz_ goin' back! I'd like to see any of 'em try to +keep you. They'd like to make one o' them dressed-up doll women outen +you! You're goin' back with me to the Fork, an' ef thar's ever any more +nussin' er doctorin' to do, I'm a-goin' to do hit. I've nussed three +women on their deathbeds, an' when your time comes I 'low I kin handle +you too." + +Then his mood changed suddenly, and he sat down by the bed. + +"Sal," he said almost persuasively, "you'll git over this here +foolishness. Ag'in' fall you'll be a-cappin corn, an' a-roastin' sweet +pertatoes, an' singin' them ole ballarts along with the Hicks gals, an' +Cy West, an' Bub Holly. An' I'll tote you behind me on the beast over +the Ridge to the Baptist Meetin' House the very next feet-washin' they +hev. Jes' think how good hit's goin' to be to see the sun a-risin' over +Ole Baldy, an' to hev room to stretch an' breathe in. Seems ez if I +hain't been able to git my lungs full of wind sense I left Jackson." + +"I know it, Pop," Sally said miserably. "You growed old in the hills +afore you ever seen the Settlements. But sence I got a sight of whut +folks is a-doin' down here, 'pears like I can't be reconciled to goin' +back. 'Tain't the work back home, nor the lonesomeness, tho' the Lord +knows the only folks thet ever does pass is when they're totin' deads +down the creek bottom. Hit's the feelin' of bein' shet off from my +chanct. Ef I could git a larnin' I wouldn't ask nothin' better then to +go back an' pass it along. When I see these here gals a-larnin' how to +holp the sick, an' keer fer babies, an' doctor folks, I lay here an' +steddy 'bout all the good I could do back home ef I only knowed how." + +"You do know how," Pop declared vociferously; "ain't you bin a-lookin' +after folks thet's ailin' around the Fork fer a couple of years or more? +Ez fer these new-fangled doctorin's, they won't nary one ov 'em do the +good yarbs will. I'd ruther trust bitter-goldenseal root to cure a +ailment than all the durn physic in this here horspittle. I ben +a-studyin' these here doctors, an' I don't take much stock in 'em; +instid of workin' on a organ thet gets twisted, they ups and draws hit. +Now the Lord A'mighty put thet air pertickler thing in you fer some good +reason, an' ther's bound to be a hitch in the machinery when hit's took +out. Hit's a marvel to me some of these here patients ain't a amblin' +round on all fours from what's been did to their insides!" + +"But think whut the doctor did fer me," urged Sally. + +"I ain't fergittin'," Pop said suddenly, "an' I've paid 'em fer hit. But +ef they calkerlate on yer takin' root here, they're treein' the wrong +possum. You're a-goin' home along o' me to-morrow." + +That afternoon he left the hospital, and several hours later was seen +walking up Monument Street with his arm full of bundles. + +"I believe he's been buying clothes to take Sally home in!" said one of +the nurses, who was watching him from an upper window. "He asked me this +morning if I knew a place where he could buy women's togs." + +"It's a shame he won't let the girl stay," said Miss Fletcher. "I have +been talking to the superintendent, and she is quite willing to let her +do light work around the hospital and pick up what training she can. I +should be glad enough to look after her, and there's a good night school +two blocks over." + +"Why don't you talk to the old man?" urged the nurse. "You are the only +one who has ever been able to do anything with him. Perhaps you could +make him see what an injustice he is doing the girl." + +"I believe I'll try," said Miss Fletcher. + +The next morning, when she came on duty, she found Sally's bed the +repository of a strange assortment of wearing apparel. A calico dress +of pronounced hue, a large lace jabot, and a small pair of yellow kid +gloves were spread out for inspection. + +"I knowed they wuz too leetle," Pop was saying, as he carefully smoothed +the kid fingers, "but I 'lowed you could kerry 'em in yer hand." + +There was an unusual eagerness in his hard face, an evident desire to +make up to Sally in one way for what he was depriving her of in another. +He was more talkative than at any time since coming to the hospital, and +he dilated with satisfaction on the joys that awaited their home-coming. + +"May I have a little talk with you before you go?" asked Miss Fletcher. + +He flashed on her a quick look of suspicion, but her calm, impassive +face told him nothing. She was a pretty woman, and Pop had evidently +recognized the fact from the start. + +"Wal, I'll come now," he said, rising reluctantly; "but, Sal, you git +yer clothes on an' be ready to start time I git back. I ain't anxious to +stay round these here diggin's no longer'n need be. Besides, that thar +railroad car mought take a earlier start. You be ready ag'in I git +back." + +For an hour and a quarter Miss Fletcher was shut up in the linen closet +with the old man. What arguments and persuasions she brought to bear are +not known. Occasionally his voice could be heard in loud and angry +dissent, but when at last they emerged he looked like some old king of +the jungle that has been captured and tamed. His shoulders drooped, his +one arm hung limply by his side, and his usually restless eyes were bent +upon the floor. + +Without a word he strode back to the room where Sally in her misfit +clothes was waiting for him. + +"Come along o' me, Sal," he commanded sternly as he picked up his carpet +sack. "Leave your things whar they be." + +Silently they passed out of the ward, down the stairway, through the +long vaultlike corridor to the superintendent's room. Once there he +flung back his rusty coat and ripped the last bill but one from its +hiding place. + +"That thar is fer my gal," he said defiantly to the superintendent. +"She'll git one the fust day of every month. Give her the larnin' she's +so hell-bent on, stuff her plumb full on it. An' ef you let ennything +happen to her"--his brows lowered threateningly--"I'll come back an' +blow yer whole blame' horspittle into eternity!" + +"Pop!" Sally pleaded, "Pop!" + +But his emotions were at high tide and he did not heed her. Pushing her +roughly aside, he strode back to the entrance hall, and was about to +pick up his carpet sack when his gaze was suddenly arrested by the great +marble figure that bends its thorn-crowned head in pity over the unhappy +and the pain-racked mortals that pass beneath its outstretched hands. + +"You ain't goin' to leave me like this, Pop?" begged Sally. "Ef you take +it so hard, I'll go back, an' I'll go willin'. Jus' say the word, Pop, +an' I'll go!" + +The old mountaineer's one hand closed on the girl's bony arm in a tight +clasp, his shoulders heaved, and his massive features worked, but his +gaze never left the calm, pitying face of the Saviour overhead. He had +followed his child without a tremor into the Valley of the Shadow of +Death, but at the entrance of this new life, where he must let her go +alone, his courage failed and his spirit faltered. His dominant will, +hitherto the only law he knew, was in mortal combat with a new and +unknown force that for the first time had entered his life. + +For several minutes he stood thus, his conflicting passions swaying him, +as opposing gales shake a giant forest tree. Then he resolutely loosened +his grip on the girl's arm and taking up his burden, without a word or a +backward glance, set his face toward the hills, leaving an awkward, +wistful girl watching him with her tears only half obscuring the vision +that was already dawning for her. + + + + +HOODOOED + + +Gordon Lee Surrender Jones lay upon what he confidently claimed to be +his death-bed. Now and again he glanced furtively at the cabin door and +listened. Being assured that nobody was coming, he cautiously extricated +a large black foot from the bedclothes, and, holding it near the candle, +laboriously tied a red string about one of his toes. He was a powerful +negro, with a close-cropped bullet-head, a massive bulldog jaw, and a +pair of incongruously gentle and credulous eyes. + +According to his own diagnosis, he was suffering from "asmy, bronketers, +pneumony, grip, diabeters, and old age." The last affliction was hardly +possible, as Gordon Lee was probably born during the last days of the +Civil War, though he might have been eighty, for all he knew to the +contrary. In addition to his acknowledged ailments, there was one he +cherished in secret. It was by far the most mysterious and deadly of the +lot, a malady to be pondered on in the dark watches of the night, to be +treated with weird rites and ceremonies, and to be cured only by some +specialist versed in the deepest lore of witchcraft; for Gordon Lee knew +beyond the faintest shadow of a doubt that a hoodoo had been laid upon +him. + +Of course, like most of his race, he had had experiences in this line +before; but this was different. In fact, it was no less a calamity than +a cricket in his leg. Just how the cricket got into his leg was a matter +too deep for human speculation; but the fact that it was there, and that +it hopped with ease from knee to ankle, and made excruciating excursions +into his five toes, was as patent as the toes themselves. + +What complicated the situation for Gordon Lee was that he could not +discuss this painful topic with his wife. Amanda Jones had embarked on +the higher education, and had long ago thrown overboard her old +superstitions. She was not only Queen Mother of the Sisters of the +Order of the Star, and an officer in various church societies, but she +was also a cook in the house of Mrs. James Bertram, President of the +State Federation of Women's Clubs. The crumbs of wisdom that fell from +the lips of the great Mrs. Bertram were carefully preserved by Amanda, +and warmed over, with sundry garnishings of her own, for the various +colored clubs to which she belonged. + +Gordon Lee had succeeded in adorning only three toes when he heard a +quick step on the gravel outside and, hastily getting his foot under +cover, he settled back on the pillow, closed his eyes, and began +laboriously inhaling with a wheeze and exhaling with a groan. + +The candle sputtered as the door was flung open, and a small, energetic +mulatto woman, twenty years Gordon Lee's junior, bustled into the room. + +"Good lan'! but it's hot in heah!" she exclaimed, flinging up a window. +"I got a good mind to _nail_ this heah window down f'om the top." + +"I done open' de door fer a spell dis mawnin'," said Gordon Lee, +sullenly, pulling the bedclothes tighter about his neck. "Lettin' in all +dis heah night air meks my eyes sore." + +The bedclothes, having thus been drawn up from the bottom of the bed, +left the patient's feet exposed, and Amanda immediately spied the +string-encircled toes. + +"Gordon Lee Surrender Jones," she exclaimed indignantly, "has that there +meddlin' ol' Aunt Kizzy been here again?" + +Gordon Lee's eyes blinked, and his thick, sullen under lip dropped half +an inch lower. + +"Ef you think," continued Amanda, furiously, "that I'm a-goin' to keep +on a-workin' my fingers to the bone, lak I been doin' for the past year, +a-payin' doctors' bills, an' buyin' medicines fer you, while you lay up +in this here bed listenin' to the fool talk of a passel of igneramuses, +you's certainly mistaken. Hit's bad enough to have you steddyin' up new +ailments ever' day, without folks a-puttin' 'em in yer head. Whut them +strings tied on yer toes fer?" + +Gordon Lee's wheezing had ceased under his severe mental strain, and now +he lay blinking at the ceiling, utterly unable to give a satisfactory +answer. + +"Aunt Kizzy jes happen' 'long," he muttered presently. "Ain't no harm in +a' ol' frien' passin' de time ob day." + +"Whut them _strings_ tied on yer toes fer?" repeated Amanda with fearful +insistence. + +Gordon Lee, pushed to the extreme, and knowing by experience that he was +as powerless in the hands of his diminutive wife as an elephant in those +of his keeper, weakly capitulated. + +"Aunt Kizzy 'low'--I ain't sayin' she's right; I's jes tellin' you what +she _'low'_--Aunt Kizzy 'low' dat, 'cordin' to de symtems, she +say',--an' I ain't sayin' I b'lieve her,--but she say' hit looks to her +lak I's sufferin' f'om a hoodoo." + +"A hoodoo!" Amanda's scorn was unbounded. "Ef it don't beat my time how +some of you niggers hang on to them ol' notions. 'Tain't nothin' 't all +but ignorant superstition. Ain't I tol' you that a hunderd times?" + +"Yes, you done tol' me," said Gordon Lee, putting up a feeble defense. +"You all time quoilin' an' runnin' down conjurin' an' bad-luck signs +an' all de _nigger_ superstitions; but you's quick 'nough to tek up all +dese heah _white_ superstitions." + +"How you mean?" demanded Amanda. + +Gordon Lee, flattered at having any remark of his noticed, proceeded to +elaborate. + +"I mean all dis heah talk 'bout hits bein' bad luck to sleep wid de +windows shet, an' bout flies carrying disease, an' 'bout worms gittin' +in de milk ef you leave it settin' roun' unkivered." + +"Not worms," corrected Amanda; "_germs_. That ain't no superstition; +that's a scientific fac'. They is so little you don't see 'em; but +they's there all right. Mis' Bertram says they's ever'where--in the +water, in the air, crawlin' up the very walls." + +Gordon Lee looked fearfully at the ceiling, as if he expected an +immediate attack from that direction. + +"I ain't sayin' dey ain't, Amanda. Come to think of hit, seems lak I +'member 'em scrunchin' 'g'inst my teeth when I eats. I ain't sayin' +nothin' 't all 'bout white folks superstitions,--I 'spec' dey's true, +ebery one ob 'em,--but hit look' lak you oughtn't to shet yer min' +ag'inst de colored signs dat done come down f'om yer maw an' yer paw, +an' yer gran'maw an' gran'paw fer back as Adam. I 'spec' Adam hisself +was conjured. Lak as not de sarpint done tricked him into regalin' +hisself wid dat apple. But I s'pose you'd lay hit on de germs whut was +disportin' deyselves on de apple. But dey ain't no use in 'sputin' dat +p'int, 'ca'se de fac' remains dat de apple's done et." + +"I ain't astin' you to dispute nothin'," cried Amanda, by this time in a +high state of indignation. "I'm a-talkin' scientific fac's, an' you're +talkin' nigger foolishness. The ignorance jes nachully oozes outen the +pores o' your skin." + +Gordon Lee, thus arraigned, lay with contracted brows and protruding +lips, nursing his wrongs, while Amanda disappeared into the adjoining +room, there to vent her wrath on the pots and pans about the stove. + +Despite the fact that it was after eight o'clock and she had been on her +feet all day, she set about preparing the evening meal for her husband +with all the care she had bestowed on the white folks' supper. + +Soon the little cabin was filled with the savory odor of bacon, and when +the corn battercakes began to sizzle promisingly, and she flipped them +over dexterously with a fork, Gordon Lee forgot his ill humor, and +through the door watched the performance with growing eagerness. + +"Git yerself propped up," Amanda called when the cakes were encircled +with crisp, brown edges. "I'll git the bread-board to put acrost yer +knees. You be eatin' this soup while I dishes up the bacon an' onions. +How'd you like to have a little jam along with yer apple-dumplin'?" + +Gordon Lee, sitting up in bed with this liberal repast spread on the +bread-board across his knees, and his large, bare feet, with their pink +adornments, rising like ebony tombstones at the foot of the bed, forgot +his grievance. + +"Jam!" he repeated. "Well, dat dere Sally Ann Slocum's dumplin's may +need jam, er Maria Johnsing's, but dis heah dumplin' is complete in +hitself. Ef dey ever was a pusson dat could assemble a' apple-dumplin' +so's you swoller hit 'most afore hit gits to yer mouf, dat pusson is +you." + +Harmony being thus restored, and the patient having emptied all the +dishes before him, Amanda proceeded to clear up. Her small, energetic +figure moved briskly from one room to the other, and as she worked she +sang in a low, chanting tone: + + "You got a shoe, + I got a shoe, + All God's children got shoes. + When I git to heaben, gwine try on my shoes, + Gwine walk all over God's heaben, heaben, heaben. + Ever'body's talkin' 'bout heaben ain't gwine to heaben-- + Heaben, heaben, gwine walk all over God's heaben." + +But the truce, thus declared, was only temporary. During the long days +that Amanda was away at her work, Gordon Lee had nothing to do but lie +on his back and think of his ailments. For twenty years he had worked in +an iron foundry, where his muscles were as active as his brain was +passive. Now that the case was reversed, the result was disastrous. +From an attack of rheumatism a year ago he had developed an amazing +number of complaints, all of which finally fell under the head of the +dread hoodoo. + +Aunt Kizzy, the object of Amanda's special scorn, he held in great +reverence. She had been a familiar figure in his mother's chimney-corner +when he was a boy, and to doubt her knowledge of charms and conjuring +was to him nothing short of heresy. She knew the value of every herb and +simple that grew in Hurricane Hollow. She was an adept in getting people +into the world and getting them out of it. She was constantly consulted +about weaning calves, and planting crops according to the stage of the +moon. And for everything in the heavens above and the earth beneath and +the waters under the earth she "had a sign." + +Since Gordon Lee's illness, she had fallen into the habit of dropping in +to sit with him at such hours as Amanda would not be there. She would +crouch over the fire, elbows on knees and pipe in mouth, and regale him +with hair-raising tales of "hants" and "sperrits" and the part she had +played in exorcising them. + +"Dis heah case ob yourn," she said one day, "ain't no ordinary case. I +done worked on lizards in de laigs, but I nebber had no 'casion to treat +a _cricket_ in de laig. Looks lak de cricket is a more persistent animal +dan de lizard. 'Sides, ez I signify afore, dis heah case ob yourn ain't +no ordinary case." + +"Why--why ain't it?" Gordon Lee stammered apprehensively. + +Aunt Kizzy lifted a bony black hand, and shook her turbaned head +ominously. + +"Dey's two kinds ob hoodoos," she said, "de libin' an' de daid. De daid +ones is de easiest to lift, 'ca'se dey answers to charms; but nobody can +lift a libin' hoodoo 'ceptin' de one dat laid hit on. I been a-steddyin' +an' a-steddyin', an' de signs claim dat dis heah hoodoo ob yourn ain't +no daid hoodoo." + +By this time the whites of Gordon Lee's eyes were largely in evidence, +and he raised himself fearfully on his elbow. + +"Aunt Kizzy," he whispered hoarsely, "how am I gwine to fin' out who 't +is done conjured me?" + +"By de sign ob seben," she answered mysteriously. "I's gwine home an' +work hit out, den I come back an' tell yer. Ef my 'spicions am true, dat +dis heah is a _libin'_ hoodoo, de only power in de earth to tek it off +am ter git er bigger trick an' lay on de top ob hit. I'm gwine home now, +an' I'll be back inside de hour." + +That night when Amanda returned home she found Gordon Lee preoccupied +and silent. He ate gingerly of the tempting meal she prepared, and +refused to have his bed straightened before he went to sleep. + +"Huccome you put yer pillow on the floor?" she asked. + +"I ain't believin' in feathers," he answered sullenly; "dey meks me heah +things." + +In vain Amanda tried to cheer him; she recounted the affairs of the day; +she gave him all the gossip of the Order of the Sisters of the Star. He +lay perfectly stolid, his horizontal profile resembling a mountain-range +the highest peak of which was his under lip. + +Finally Amanda's patience wore thin. + +"Whut's the matter with you, Gordon Lee Surrender Jones?" she demanded. +"Whut you mean by stickin' out yer lip lak a circus camel?" + +Now that the opportunity for action had come, he feared to take +advantage of it. Amanda, small as she was, looked firm and determined, +and he knew by experience that he was no match for her. + +"'Tain't fer you to be astin' _me_ whut's de matter," he began +significantly. "De glove's on de other han'." + +"Whut you 'sinuatin', nigger?" cried Amanda, now thoroughly roused. + +"I's tired layin' heah under dis heah spell," complained Gordon Lee. "I +knowed all 'long 'twas a hoodoo, but I neber 'spicioned till to-day who +was 'sponsible fer hit. Aunt Kizzy tried de test, an', 'fore de Lawd, +hit p'inted powerful' near home." + +Amanda sank into the one rocking-chair the cabin boasted, and dropped +her hands in her lap. Her anger had given place for the moment to sheer +amazement. + +"Well, if this ain't the beatenest thing I ever heard tell of in all my +born days! Do you mean to say that that honery old cross-eyed nigger +Kizzy had the audacity to set up before my fire, in my house, an' tell +my husband I'd laid a spell on him?" + +"Dat's whut de signs p'int to," said Gordon Lee, doggedly. + +Amanda rose, and it seemed to him that she towered to the ceiling. With +hands on hips and head thrown back, she delivered herself, and her voice +rang with suppressed passion. + +"Yas, I laid a spell on yer! I laid a spell on yer when I let you quit +work, an' lay up in bed wid nothin' to do but to circulate yer symtems. +I put a spell on yer when I nuss you an' feed you an' s'port you an' +spile the life plumb outen you. I ain't claimin' 't wasn't rheumatism in +the fust place, but it's a spell now, all right--a spell I did lay on +yer, a spell of laziness pure an' simple!" + +After this outburst the relations were decidedly strained in the little +cabin at the far end of Hurricane Hollow. Gordon Lee persistently +refused to eat anything his wife cooked for him, depending upon the +food that Aunt Kizzy or other neighbors brought in. + +To Amanda the humiliation of this was acute. She used every strategy to +conciliate him, and at last succeeded by bringing home some pig's feet. +His appetite got the better of his resentment, and he disposed of four +with evident relish. + +With the approach of winter, however, other and graver troubles +developed. The rent of the cabin, which had always been promptly paid +out of Gordon Lee's wages, had now to come out of Amanda's limited +earnings. Two years' joint savings had gone to pay the doctor and the +druggist. + +Amanda gave up the joys of club life, and began to take in small +washings, which she did at night. Gordon Lee, surrounded by every luxury +save that of approbation, continued to lie on his back in the white bed +and nurse his hallucinations. + +"'Mandy," he said one morning as she was going to work, "wished you'd +ast Marse Jim ef he got a' ol' pair of pants he could spare me." + +Her face brightened. + +"You fixin' to git up, Honey?" she asked hopefully. + +"No, I's jes collectin' ob my grave-clothes," said Gordon Lee. "Dere's a +pair ob purple socks in de bottom drawer, an' a b'iled shirt in de +wardrobe. But I been layin' heah steddyin' 'bout dat shirt. Hit's got +Marse Jim's name on de tail of it, an' s'pose I git to heaben, an' St. +Peter he read de name an' look hit up in de jedgment book. He's 'lowable +to come to me an' say, 'Huccome you wearin' dat shirt? Dey ain't but one +James Bartrum writ down in de book, an' he ain't no colored pusson.' +'Co'se I _could_ explain, but I's got 'splainin' 'nough to do when I git +to heaben widout dat." + +Amanda paused with her hand on the doorknob. + +"Marse Jim'll beat you to heaben; that is, ef he don't beat you to the +bad place first. You git that idea of dyin' outen yer mind, and you'll +git well." + +"I can't git well till de hoodoo's lifted. Aunt Kizzy 'lows--" + +But the door was slammed before he could finish. + +The limit of Amanda's endurance was reached about Christmas-time. One +gloomy Sunday afternoon when she had finished the numerous chores that +had accumulated during the week, she started for the coal-shed to get an +armful of kindling. + +Dusk was coming on, and Hurricane Hollow had never seemed more lonesome +and deserted. The corn-shocks leaned toward one another as if they were +afraid of a common enemy. Somewhere down the road a dog howled dismally. + +Amanda resolutely pushed open the door of the shed, and felt her way +toward the pile of chips. Suddenly she found her progress blocked by a +strange and colossal object. It was an oblong affair, and it stood on +one end, which was larger than the other. With growing curiosity she +felt its back and sides, and then peered around it to get a front view. +What she saw sent her flying back to the cabin with her mouth open and +her limbs shaking. + +"Gordon Lee," she cried, "whose coffin is that settin' in our +coal-shed?" + +The candidate for the next world looked very much embarrassed. + +"Well, 'Mandy," he began lamely, "I can't say 'zactly ez hit's any +pusson's jes yit. But hit's gwine be mine when de summons comes." + +"Where'd you git it at?" demanded his Nemesis. + +His eyes shifted guiltily. + +"De foundry boss done been heah las' week, an' he gimme some money. I +'lowed I was layin' hit up fer a rainy day." + +"An' you mean to tell me," she cried, "that you took that money an' +spent it for a coffin, a white one with shiny handles, an' a satin +bolster that'll done be wore out, an' et up by moths, 'fore you ever git +a chancet to use it?" + +"Couldn't you fix hit up in terbaccy er mothballs ag'in' de time I need +hit?" Gordon Lee asked helplessly. + +But Amanda was too exasperated this time to argue the matter. Fifty +dollars' worth of coffin in the coal-shed and fifty cents' worth of coal +in the bin constituted a situation that demanded her entire attention. + +For six months now Gordon Lee had remained in bed, firm in the belief +that he could not walk on account of the spell that had been laid upon +him. During that time he had come to take a luxurious satisfaction in +the interest his case was exciting in the neighborhood. Being in +excellent physical condition, he could afford the melancholy joy of +playing with the idea of death. He spent hours discussing the details of +his funeral, which had assumed in his mind the proportions of a pageant. + +Amanda, on the other hand, overworked and anxious, and compelled to +forego her lodges and societies, became more and more irascible and +depressed. In some subtle way she was aware that the sympathy of the +colored community was solidly with Gordon Lee. Nobody now asked her how +he was. Nobody came to the cabin when she was there, though it was +apparent that visitors were frequent during her absence. Aunt Kizzy had +evidently been busy in the neighborhood. + +One night Amanda sat very long over the stove rolling her hair into +little wads about the length and thickness of her finger, then tightly +wrapping each with a stout bit of cord to take out the kink. When Gordon +Lee roused himself now and then to inquire suspiciously what she was +doing, she answered with ominous calm. + +"Jes steddyin', that's all." + +Her meditations evidently resulted in a plan of action, for the next +night she came home from her work in a most mysterious and unusual mood. +Gordon Lee heard her moving some heavy and cumbersome article across the +kitchen floor, then he saw her surreptitiously put something into a tin +can before she presented herself at the foot of his bed. + +"'Mandy," he said, anxious to break the silence, and distrusting that +subdued look of excitement in her eyes, "did you bring me dat possum, +lak you 'lowed you was gwine to?" + +Her lips tightened. + +"Yes, I got the possum, an' also some apples fer a dumplin'; but before +I lays a stick to the fire I'm goin' to say my say." + +Gordon Lee looked at her with consternation. She stood at the foot of +his bed as if it wore a rostrum, and with an air of detached dignity +addressed him as if he had been the whole Order of the Sisters of the +Star. + +"I done arrive' at a decision," she declared. "I arrive' at it in the +watches of the night. I'm goin' to cure you 'cordin' to yer lights an' +knowledge. I'm goin' to lif' that spell ef I has to purge my immortal +soul to do it." + +"'Mandy," cried Gordon Lee, eagerly, "you mean to say you gwine to +remove the hoodoo?" + +"I am," she said solemnly. "I'm goin' to draw out all yer miseries fer +the rest of yer life, _includin' of the cricket in yer leg_." + +"'Mandy," he cried again fearfully, "you ain't gwine ter hurt me in no +way, is you?" + +"Not effen you do as I tell you. But fust of all you got to take the +pledge of silence. Whatsomever takes place heah in this cabin to-night +ain't never to be revealed till the jedgment-day. Do you swear?" + +The big negro, fascinated with the mystery, and deeply impressed with +his wife's manner, laid his hand on the Bible and solemnly took the +oath. + +"Now," she continued impressively, "while I go in the kitchen an' git +the supper started, I want you to ease yerse'f outen the bed on to the +floor, an' lay with yer head to the north an' your han's outspread, an' +yer mind on the heabenly kingdom." + +"Air you shore hit ain't gwine hurt me?" again he queried. + +"Not if you do 'zactly like I say. Besides," she added dryly, "if it +comes to the worst, ain't you ready an' waitin' to go!" + +"Yas," agreed Gordon Lee; "but I ain't fixin' to go till I's sent fer." + +It took not only time, but courage, for him to follow the prescribed +directions. He had for a long time cherished the belief that any +exertion would prove fatal; but the prospect of having the hoodoo +removed, together with a lively curiosity as to what means Amanda would +employ to remove it, spurred him to persist despite groans, wheezes, +and ejaculations. + +Once stretched upon the floor, with his head to the north and his arms +extended, he encountered a new difficulty: his mind refused to dwell +upon the heavenly kingdom. Anxiety as to the treatment he was about to +be subjected to alternated with satisfaction at the savory odors that +floated in from the kitchen. If the ordeal was uncertain, the reward at +least was sure. + +After what seemed to him an endless vigil, Amanda appeared in the +doorway. With measured steps and great solemnity of mien, she +approached, holding in her right hand a piece of white chalk. + +"De hour has come," she chanted. "With this chalk, an' around this man, +I make the mark of his image." Stooping, she began to trace his outline +on the dull rag-carpet, speaking monotonously as she worked: "Gordon Lee +Surrender Jones, I command all the aches an' the pains, all the miseries +an' fool notions, includin' the cricket in yer leg, to pass outen yer +real body into this heah image on the floor. Keep yer head still, +nigger! I pass 'em through you into yer symbol, an' from thence I draws +'em out to satisfy yer mind now and forever more, amen. Now roll over to +the right an' watch what's about to happen." + +The patient by this time was so interested that he followed instructions +mechanically. He saw Amanda dart into the kitchen and emerge with an +object totally unfamiliar to him. It was a heavy, box-shaped object, +attached to a long handle. This she placed on the chalked outline of his +right leg. Then she stood with her eyes fixed on the floor and solemnly +chanted: + + "Draw, draw, 'cordin' to the law, + Lif' the hoodoo, now I beg, + An' draw the cricket + F'om this heah leg!" + +And Gordon Lee, raised on his elbow, watching with protruding eyes, +_heard_ it draw! He heard the heavy, panting breathing as Amanda ran the +vacuum cleaner over every inch of the chalked outline, and when she +stopped and, kneeling beside the box, removed a small bag of dust and +lint, he was not in the least surprised to see a cricket jump from the +debris. + +"Praise be!" he cried in sudden ecstasy. "De pain's done lef me, do +spell's done lifted!" + +"An' the cricket's done removed," urged Amanda, skilfully getting the +machine out of sight. "You seen it removed with yer own eyes." + +"Wid my own eyes," echoed Gordon Lee, still in a state of self-hypnosis. + +"An' now," she said, "I'm goin' to git that supper ready jes as quick ez +I kin." + +"Ain't you gwine help me back in bed fust?" he asked from where he still +lay on the floor. + +"What fer?" she exclaimed. "Ain't the spell lifted? I'm goin' to set the +table in the kitchen, an' ef you wants any of that possum an' sweet +pertater an' that apple-dumplin' an' hard sass, you got to walk in there +to git em." + +For ten minutes Gordon Lee Surrender Jones lay flat on his back on the +floor, trying to trace the course of human events during the last +half-hour. Against the dim suspicion that Amanda had in some way +outwitted him rose the staggering evidence of that very live cricket +that still hopped about the room, chirping contentedly. + +Twice Amanda spoke to him, but he refused to answer. His silence did not +seem to affect her good spirits, for she continued her work, singing +softly to herself. + +Despite himself, he became aware of the refrain, and before he knew it +he was going over the familiar words with her: + + "Oh, chicken-pie an 'pepper, oh! + Chicken-pie is good, I know; + So is wattehmillion, too; + So is rabbit in a stew; + So is dumplin's, b'iled with squab; + So is cawn, b'iled on de cob; + So is chine an' turkey breast; + So is aigs des f'om de nest." + +Gordon Lee rose unsteadily. Holding to a chair, he reached the table, +then the door, through which he shambled, and sheepishly took his old +place at the foot of the table. Amanda outdid herself in serving him, +emptying the larder in honor of the occasion; but neither of them spoke +until the apple-dumpling was reached. Then Gordon Lee turned toward her +and said confidentially: + +"I wished we knowed some corpse we could sell dat coffin to." + + + + +A MATTER OF FRIENDSHIP + + +When a jovial young person in irreproachable pongee, and a wholly +reproachable brown topi, scrambled up the lifting gang-plank of the big +Pacific liner, setting sail from Yokohama, he was welcomed with acclaim. +The Captain stopped swearing long enough to megaphone a greeting from +the bridge, the First Officer slapped him on the back, while the half +dozen sailors, tugging at the ropes, grinned as one man. + +Three months before this good ship _East India_ had carried Frederick +Reynolds out to the Orient and deposited him on the alien soil, an +untried youth of unimpeachable morals with a fatal facility for making +friends. + +The temporary transplanting had had a strange and exotic effect. The +East has a way of developing crops of wild oats that have been neglected +in the West, and by the end of his sojourn Mr. Frederick Reynolds had +seen more, felt more, and lived more than in all of his previous +twenty-four years put together. He had learned the difference between a +"straight flush" and a "full house" under the palms at Raffles Hotel in +Singapore; he had been instructed in the ways of the wise in Shanghai by +a sophisticated attache of the French Legation, who imparted his +knowledge between sips of absinthe, as he looked down on the passing +show from a teahouse on the Bubbling Well Road; he had rapturously +listened to every sweet secret that Japan had to tell, and had left a +wake of smiles from Nagasaki to Yokohama. + +In fact, in three short months he was fully qualified to pass a +connoisseur's judgment on a high-ball, to hold his own in a game of +poker, and to carry on a fairly coherent flirtation in four different +languages. + +With this newly acquired wisdom he was now setting sail for home, having +accomplished his downward career with such alacrity that he did not at +all realize what had happened to him. + +Nor did the return voyage promise much in the way of silent meditation +and timely repentance. The Captain placed Reynolds next to him at table, +declaring that he was like an electric fan on a sultry day; the Purser, +with the elasticity of conscience peculiar to pursers, moved him from +the inexpensive inside room which he had engaged, to a spacious +state-room on the promenade deck, where sufficient corks were drawn +nightly to make a small life preserver. + +The one person who watched these proceedings with disfavor was a short, +attenuated, bow-legged Chinaman, with a face like a grotesque brass +knocker, and a taciturnity that enveloped him like a fog. + +On the voyage out, Tsang Foo, the assistant deck steward, had gotten +into a fight with a brother Chinaman, and had been saved from dismissal +by Reynolds's timely intercession at headquarters. In dumb gratitude for +this service, he had laid his celestial soul at the feet of the young +American and sworn eternal allegiance. + +From the day Reynolds reembarked, Tsang's silken, slippered feet +silently followed him from smoking-room to bar, from bar back to +smoking-room. Whatever emotion troubled the depths of his being, no sign +of it rose to his ageless, youthless face. But whether he was silently +performing his duties on deck, or sitting on the hatchway smoking his +opium, his vigilant eyes from their long, narrow slits kept watch. + +For thirteen days the sun sparkled on the blue waters of the Pacific, +and favoring breezes gave every promise of landing the _East India_ in +port with the fastest record of the season. Bets went higher and higher +on each day's running, and the excitement was intense each evening in +the smoking-room when the numbers most likely to win the next day's pool +were auctioned off to the highest bidder. + +It was the afternoon of the fourteenth day, thirty-six hours out from +San Francisco, that Mr. Frederick Reynolds, who had bet more, drunk +more, talked more, and laughed more than any man on board, suddenly came +to his full senses. Then it was that he went quietly to his luxurious +state-room with its brass bed and crimson hangings, and took a +forty-two caliber revolver from his steamer trunk. Slipping a cartridge +into the cylinder, he sat breathing heavily and staring impatiently +before him. + +From outside above the roar of the ocean, came the tramp of the +passengers on deck, and the trivial scraps of conversation that floated +in kept side-tracking his thoughts, preventing their reaching the +desired destination. + +The world, which he had sternly resolved to leave, seemed determined to +stay with him as long as possible. He heard Glass, the actor, inquiring +for him, and in spite of himself he felt flattered; he heard the pretty +girl whose steamer chair was next his, make a conditional engagement +with the high-voiced army-officer, and he knew why she left the matter +open; even a plaintive old voice inquiring how long it would be before +tea, caused him to wait for the answer. + +At last, as if to present his misery in embodied form, he produced a +note-book and tried to concentrate his attention upon the items therein +recorded. Line after line of wavering figures danced in impish glee +before him, defying inspection. But at the foot of the column, like +soldiers waiting to shoot a prisoner, stood four formidable units +unquestionably pointing his way to doom. + +As be looked at them Reynolds's thoughts got back on the main track and +rushed to a conclusion. Tearing the leaf from the book, and crushing it +in his hand, he jumped to his feet. Seized with a fury of self-disgust, +he pulled off his coat and collar, and with the reckless courage of a +boy put the mouth of the revolver to his temple. + +As he did so the room darkened. He involuntarily looked up. Framed in +the circle of the port-hole were the head and shoulders of Tsang Foo. +Not a muscle of the yellow face moved, not a tremor of the slanting +eyelids showed surprise. The right hand, holding a bit of tow, +mechanically continued polishing the brass around the port-hole, but the +left--long, thin, and with claw-like nails, shot stealthily forward and +snatched the pistol. + +For a full minute the polishing continued, then face and figure +vanished, and Reynolds was left staring in impotent rage at the empty +port-hole. + +When the room steward appeared in answer to an imperative summons, he +was directed to send Tsang Foo to room No. 7 at once. + +Tsang came almost immediately, bearing tea and anchovy sandwiches, which +he urbanely placed on a camp-stool. + +"Where's my pistol?" demanded Reynolds hotly, holding to the door to +steady himself. + +Tsang's eyes, earnest as a dog's, were lifted to his: + +"He fall overboard," he explained suavely, "me velly solly." + +Reynolds impulsively lifted his arm to strike, but a second impulse, +engulfing the first, made him turn and fling himself upon his berth, +struggling to master the heavy sobs that shook him from head to foot. + +The Chinaman softly closed the door and slipped the bolt, then he +dropped to a sitting posture on the floor and waited. + +When the squall had passed, Reynolds addressed his companion from the +depths of the pillows in language suited to his comprehension. + +"Me belong large fool, Tsang!" he said savagely. "Have drink too much. +No good. You go 'long, I'm all right now." + +Tsang's eye swept the disordered room and returned to the figure on the +bed. "Suppose me go," he said, "you makee one hole in head?" + +"That's my business," said Reynolds, his wrath rekindling. "You go +'long, and get my pistol; there's a good chap." + +Tsang did not stir; he sat with his hands clasped about his knees, and +contemplated space with the abstract look of a Buddha gazing into +Nirvana. + +Reynolds passed from persuasion to profanity with no satisfactory +result. His language, whether eloquent or fiery, beat upon an +unresponsive ear. But being in that condition that demands sympathy, he +found the mere talking a relief, and presently drifted into a recital of +his woes. + +"I'm up against it, in the hole, you know, much largee trouble," he +amplified with many gestures, sitting on the side of his berth, and +pounding out excited, incoherent phrases to the impassive figure +opposite. "Company sent me out to collect money. My have spent all. No +can go back home. Suppose my lose face, more better die!" + +Tsang shifted his position and nodded gravely. Out of much that was +unintelligible, the last statement loomed clear and incontrovertible. + +"I'm a thief!" burst out Reynolds passionately, not to Tsang now, but to +the world at large, "a plain, common thief. And the worst of it is there +isn't a man in that San Francisco office that doesn't trust me down to +the ground. Then there's the Governor. O God! I can't face the +Governor!" + +Tsang sat immovable, lost in thought. Stray words and phrases helped, +but it was by some subtle working of his own complex brain that he was +arriving at the truth. + +"Father, him no can lend money?" he suggested presently. + +"The Governor? Good heavens, no. There's not enough money in our whole +family to wad a gun! They put up all they had to give me a start, and +look where I have landed! Do you suppose I'd go back and ask them to put +up a thousand more for my rotten foolishness?" He knotted his hands +together until the nails grew white then, seeing the unenlightened face +below, he added emphatically: "No, no, Tsang, no can askee!" + +"How fashion you losee money!" asked Tsang. + +"The money? Oh, belong gamble. Bet on ship's run. First day--win. Second +day--win. Then lose, lose, keep on losing. Didn't know half the time +what I was doing. To-day my settle up; no can pay office. A thousand +dollars out! Lord! All same two thousand Mex', Tsang!" + +An invisible calculation was made on the end of the steamer trunk by a +long, pointed, fingernail, but no change of expression crossed the +yellow face. For an incalculable time Tsang sat, lost in thought. All +his conserved energy went to aid him in solving the problem. At last he +reached a decision: this was clearly a case to be laid before the only +god be knew, the god of Chance. + +"Me gamble too," he said; "me no lose." + +"But s'pose you _had_ lost? S'pose you lose what no belong you? What +thing you do?" + +"You do all same my talkee you?" asked Tsang, for the first time lifting +his eyes. + +It was a slender straw, to be sure, but Reynolds grasped at it. + +"What thing you mean, Tsang? What can I do?" + +"Two more night' to San Flancisco," said Tsang softly; "one more bet, +maybe!" + +"Oh, I've thought of that. What's the good of throwing good money after +bad? No use, I no got chance." + +"_My_ have got chance," announced Tsang emphatically, "you bet how +fashion my talkee you, your money come back." + +Reynolds studied the brass knocker of a face, but found no clue to the +riddle. "What you mean, Tsang?" he asked. "What do you know? For the +Lord's sake don't fool with me about it!" + +"Me no fool," declared Tsang. "You le' me talkee number, him win big +heap money." + +"But how do you know?" + +"Me savey," said Tsang enigmatically. + +Again Reynolds studied the impassive face. "It's on the square, Tsang? +You don't stand in with anybody below decks? The thing is on the level?" +Then finding further elucidation necessary, he added, "No belong cheat!" + +Tsang Foo shook his head positively. "No belong cheat, all belong +ploper. No man savey, only me savey, this side," and he tapped his head +significantly. + +Reynolds gave a short, unpleasant laugh. "All right," he said, thrusting +his hand in his pocket. "I'll give myself one more chance. There'll be +time to-morrow to finish my job. I'll make a bargain with you, Tsang! +Bet this, and this, and this, on the next run for me. You win, I no +makee shoot; you lose, you promise bring back pistol, then go way. My +can do what thing my wantchee, see?" + +Tsang Foo looked at him cunningly: "I win, you belong good boy? Stop +whisky-soda, maybe?" + +Reynolds laughed in spite of himself: "Going to reform me, oh? All +right, it's a bargain." + +Tsang allowed his hand to be shaken, then he carefully counted over the +express checks that had been given to him. + +"My go now," he announced as eight bells sounded from the bridge. + +As the door closed Reynolds sighed, then his eyes brightened as they +fell upon the sandwiches. Even a desperate young man on the verge of +suicide if he is hungry must needs cheer up temporarily at the sight of +food. Reynolds had taken an early breakfast after being up all night, +and had eaten nothing since. After devouring the sandwiches and tea with +relish, he ordered a hot bath, and in less than an hour was wrapped in +his berth sleeping the sleep that is not confined to the righteous. + +It was high noon the next day when he awoke. His first feeling was one +of exhilaration: the long sleep, the fresh sea air pouring in at the +port-hole, and a sense of perfect physical well-being had made him +forget, for a moment, the serious business the day might have in store +for him. + +As he lay, half dozing, he became dimly aware that something was wrong. +The throb of the engines had ceased, and an ominous stillness prevailed. +He sat up in bed and listened, then he thrust his head out of the +port-hole, only to see a deserted deck. The passage was likewise +deserted save for a hurried stewardess, who called back, over her +shoulder, "It's a man overboard, sir, on the starboard side--" + +Reynolds flung on his clothes. The boy in him was keen for excitement, +and in five minutes he was on deck, and had joined the crowd of +passengers that thronged the railing. + +The life-boat was being lowered, groaning and protesting as it cleared +the davits and swung away from the ship's side. Far behind, in the still +shining wake of the steamer, a small black object bobbed helplessly in +the gray expanse of waters. + +"What's the matter?" "Did he fall overboard!" "Did he jump in?" "Was it +suicide?" The air buzzed with questions. The sentimental contingent +clung to the theory that it was some poor stoker who could no longer +stand the heat, or a foreign refugee afraid to come into port. The more +practical argued that it was probably one of the seamen who, while doing +outside painting, had lost his balance and fallen into the sea. + +A smug, well-dressed man, with close-cropped gray beard, and a detached +gaze that seemed to go no further than his rimless glasses, turned and +spoke to Reynolds: + +"It has gotten to be quite the fashion for somebody in the steerage to +create this sort of sensation. It happened as I went over. If a man sees +fit to jump overboard, all well and good; in nine cases out of ten it's +a good riddance to the community. But why in Heaven's name should the +steamer put back? Why should several hundred people be delayed an hour +or so for the sake of an inconsiderate, useless fool?" + +Reynolds turned away sickened. From a point, apart from the rest, he +strained his eyes to keep in sight the small black object now hidden, +now revealed, by the waves. A fierce sense of kinship for that man in +the water seized him. He, too, perhaps had grappled with some +unendurable situation and been overcome. What if he was an utterly +worthless asset on the great human ledger? He was a fellow-being, +suffering, tempted, vanquished. Was it kind to bring him back, to go +through with it all again? + +For answer Reynolds's muscles strained with those of the sailors rowing +below: all the life and youth in him rose in rebellion against +unnecessary death. He watched with teeth hard set as the small boat +climbed to the crest of a wave, then plunged into the trough again, +crawling by imperceptible inches toward the bobbing spot in the water. +He longed to be in the boat, in the water even, helping to save that +human life that only on the verge of extinction had gained significance. +What if the man wished to die? No matter, he must be saved, saved from +himself, given another chance, made to face it out, whatever it was. +Not until then did Reynolds remember another life that be had dared to +threaten, that even now he meant to take if the wheel of chance swung +against him. Suddenly he faced the awful judgment of his own act, and +shuddered back as one who, standing upon a precipice, trembles in terror +before the mad desire to leap. + +"I'll stick it out!" he said half aloud as if in promise. "Whatever +comes, I'll take my medicine, I'll--" + +An eager murmur swept through the crowd. A sailor with a rope about him +was being lowered from the life-boat. + +For five tense minutes the two men rose and fell at the mercy of the +high waves, and the distance between them did not lessen by an inch. + +Then a passenger with a binocular announced that the sailor was swimming +around to the far side to get the man between him and the boat. + +With long, steady, overhand strokes, the sailor was gaining his way, and +when at last he reached the apparently motionless object and got a rope +under its arms, and the two were hauled into the life-boat, a rousing +cheer went up from the big steamer above. + +Reynolds drew in his breath sharply and turned away from the railing. As +he did so he was hailed by a group of friends who were returning to +their cards, waiting face downward on the small tables in the +smoking-room. + +"Behold His Nibs!" shouted Glass, the actor, "the luckiest duffer that +ever hit a high-ball!" + +"How did you happen to do it?" cried another. + +Reynolds lifted his hand to his bewildered head. "Do what?" he asked +dully. "I'm not on." + +"Oh, come!" said Glass, shaking him by the shoulder; "that bet you sent +in last night! When the Chink said you wanted to buy the low field for +all six pools, and to bet five hundred to boot that you'd win, I thought +you were either drunk or crazy. Yesterday's run was four-fifty-one, a +regular corker, and yet with even better weather conditions, you took +only the numbers below four-thirty-one. I argued with the Chinaman 'til +I was blue in the face, but he stood pat, said, you were all right, and +had told him what to do. Nothing but an accident could have saved you, +and it arrived. You've won the biggest pool of the crossing, don't you +think it's about time for you to set 'em up? Say Martini cocktails for +the crowd, eh?" + +Reynolds was jostled about in congratulation and good-humored banter. +Everybody was glad of the boy's success, he was an all round favorite, +and some of the men who had won his money felt relieved to return it. + +"Here's your cocktail, Freddy," cried Glass, "and here's to you!" + +Reynolds stood in the midst of the crowd, his face flushed, his hair +tumbled. With a quick movement he sent the glass and its contents +spinning out of a near-by port-hole. + +"Not for Frederick!" he said with emphasis, "I've been that particular +kind of a fool for the last time." + +Some hours later when the crowd went below to dress for dinner, Reynolds +dropped behind to ask the Second Officer about the man who had been +rescued. + +"He is still pretty full of salt water," said the Officer, "but he is +being bailed out." + +"How did it happen?" asked Reynolds. + +"Give it up. He hasn't spoken yet. It looks as if he were getting ready +to do some outside cleaning, for he had on a life-preserver. Funny thing +about it, though, that's not his work. He's not even on duty during the +starboard watch. The man in the lookout saw him climb out on the bow, +shout something up to him, then fall backward into the water. I'll be +hanged if I can make it out. Tsang Foo is one of the steadiest sailors +on board." + +"Tsang Foo!" shouted Reynolds. "You don't mean that man was Tsang?" + +With headlong haste he seized the bewildered officer and made him pilot +him below decks. Stumbling down the ladders and through dark passages, +he at last reached the bunk where Tsang Foo lay with the ship's surgeon +and a steward in attendance. + +The Chinaman's lips were drawn tightly back over his prominent teeth, +and his breath came in irregular gasps. Across the pillow in a straight +black line lay his dripping queque. As his eyelids fluttered feebly, the +doctor straightened his own tired back. + +"He'll come round now, all right," he said to the steward. "Give him +those drops and don't talk to him. He's had a close call. I'll be back +in ten minutes." + +Reynolds crowded into the narrow apace the doctor had left. The fact +that he was saved from disgrace was utterly blotted out by the bigger +fact that this ignorant, uncouth, foreign sailor had fearlessly risked +his life to save him from facing a merited punishment. Reynolds's very +soul seemed to grow bigger to accommodate the thought. + +"Tsang!" he whispered, seizing the yellow hand, "You are a brick! Number +one good man. But my no can take money,--I--" + +The steward in attendance, who had stepped aside, made a warning gesture +and laid his finger on his lips. + +For five minutes the man in the bunk and the one beside it looked +silently into each other's eyes, then the drawn lips moved, and +Reynolds, bending his head to listen, heard the broken question: + +"You--no--blake--bargain?" + +Reynolds's mind dashed at two conclusions and recoiled from each. Should +be follow his impulse to explain the whole affair, serious consequences +would result for Tsang, while the other alternative of accepting the +situation made him a party, albeit an innocent one, to a most +reprehensible proceeding. It was to his credit, that of the two courses +the latter was infinitely the more intolerable. He got up nervously, +then sat down again. + +"No--blake--bargain!" repeated Tsang anxiously. + +Still Reynolds waited for some prompting from a conscience unaccustomed +to being rusty. Any course that would involve the loyal little Chinaman, +who had played the game according to the rules as he knew them, was out +of the question. The money must be paid back, of course, but how, and +when? If he cleared himself at the office it might be years before he +could settle this new debt, but he could do it in time, he must do it. +Then at last, light came to him. He would accept Tsang's sacrifice but +it should stand for more than the mere material good it had purchased. +It should pledge him to a fresh start, a clean life. He would justify +the present by the future. He drew a deep breath of relief and leaned +forward: + +"Tsang," he said, and his voice trembled with the earnestness of his +resolve, "I no break bargain. From now on my behave all same proper. It +wasn't right, old fellow, you oughtn't--" then he gave it up and smiled +helplessly, "you belong my good friend Tsang, what thing you wantchee?" + +A slow smile broke the brass-like stillness of Tsang Foo's face: + +"Pipe," he gasped softly, "opium velly good,--make land and sea--all +same--by an' by!" + + + + +THE WILD OATS OF A SPINSTER + + +Judging from appearances Miss Lucinda Perkins was justifying her reason +for being by conforming absolutely to her environment. She apparently +fitted as perfectly into her little niche in the Locustwood Seminary for +young ladies as Miss Joe Hill fitted into hers. The only difference was +that Miss Joe Hill did not confine herself to a niche; she filled the +seminary, as a plump hand does a tight glove. + +It was the year after Miss Lucinda had come to the seminary to teach +elocution that Miss Joe Hill discovered in her an affinity. As +principal, Miss Joe Hill's word was never questioned, and Miss Lucinda, +with pleased obedience, accepted the honor that was thrust upon her, and +meekly moved her few belongings into Miss Joe Hill's apartment. + +For four years they had lived in the rarified atmosphere of celestial +friendship. They clothed their bodies in the same raiment, and their +minds in the same thoughts, and when one was cold the other shivered. + +If Miss Lucinda, in those early days found it difficult to live up to +Miss Joe Hill's transcendental code she gave no sign of it. She laid +aside her mildly adorned garments and enveloped her small angular person +in a garb of sombre severity. Even the modest bird that adorned her hat +was replaced by an uncompromising band. She foreswore meat and became a +vegetarian. She stopped reading novels and devoted her spare time to +essays and biography. In fact she and Miss Joe Hill became one and that +one was Miss Joe Hill. + +It was not until Floss Speckert entered the senior class at Locustwood +Seminary that this sublimated friendship suffered a jar. + +Floss's father lived in Chicago, and it was due to his unerring +discernment in the buying and selling of live stock that Floss was being +"finished" in all branches without regard to the cost. + +"Learn her all you want to," he said magnanimously to Miss Lucinda, who +negotiated the arrangement. "I ain't got but two children, her and Tom. +He's just like me--don't know a blame thing but business; but Floss--" +his bosom swelled under his checked vest--"she's on to it all. I pay for +everything you get into her head. Dancin', singin', French--all them +extries goes." + +Miss Lucinda had consequently undertaken the management of Floss +Speckert, and the result had been far-reaching in its consequences. + +Floss was a person whose thoughts did not dwell upon the highest +development of the spiritual life. Her mind was given over to the +pursuit of worldly amusements, her only serious thought being a burning +ambition to win histrionic honors. The road to this led naturally +through the elocution classes, and Floss accepted Miss Lucinda as the +only means toward the desired end. + +A drop of water in a bottle of ink produces no visible result, but a +drop of ink in a glass of water contaminates it at once. Miss Lucinda +took increasing interest in her frivolous young pupil; she listened +with half-suppressed eagerness to unlimited gossip about stage-land, and +even sank to the regular perusal of certain bold theatrical papers. She +was unmistakably becoming contaminated. + +Meanwhile Miss Joe Hill, quite blind to the situation, condoned the +friendship. "You are developing your own character," she told Miss +Lucinda. "You are exercising self-control and forbearance in dealing +with that crude, undisciplined girl. Florence is the natural outcome of +common stock and newly acquired riches. It is your noble aspiration to +take this vulgar clay and mold it into something higher. Your motive is +laudable, Lucinda; your self-sacrifice in giving up our evening hour +together is heroic. I read you like an open book, dear." + +And Miss Lucinda listened and trembled. They were standing together +before the window of their rigid little sitting room, the chastened +severity of which banished all ideas of comfort. "What purpose do you +serve?" Miss Joe Hill demanded of every article that went into her +apartment, and many of the comforts of life failed to pass the +examination. + +After Miss Joe Hill had gone out, Miss Lucinda remained at the window +and restlessly tapped her knuckles against the sill. The insidious +spring sunshine, the laughter of the girls in the court below, the +foolish happy birds telling their secrets under the new, green leaves, +all worked together to disturb her peace of mind. + +She resolutely turned her back to the window and took breathing +exercises. That was one of Miss Joe Hill's sternest +requirements--fifteen minutes three times a day and two pints of water +between meals. Then she sat down in a straight-back chair and tried to +read "The Power Through Poise." Her body was doing its duty, but it did +not deceive her mind. She knew that she was living a life of black +deception; evidences of her guilt were on every hand. Behind the books +on her little shelf was a paper of chocolate creams; in the music rack, +back to back with Grieg and Brahms, was an impertinent sheet of ragtime +which Floss had persuaded her to learn as an accompaniment. And deeper +and darker and falser than all was a plan which had been fermenting in +her mind for days. + +In a fortnight the school term would be over. Following the usual +custom, Miss Lucinda was to go to her brother in the country and Miss +Joe Hill to her sister for a week. This obligation to their respective +families being discharged, they would repair to the seclusion of a +Catskill farmhouse, there to hang upon each other's souls for the rest +of the summer. + +Miss Lucinda's visits to her brother were reminiscent of a multiplicity +of children and a scarcity of room. To her the Inferno presented no more +disquieting prospect than the necessity of sharing her bedroom. She +always returned from these sojourns in the country with impaired +digestion, and shattered nerves. She looked forward to them with dread +and looked back on them with horror. Was it any wonder that when a +brilliant alternative presented itself she was eager to accept it? + +Floss Speckert had gained her father's consent to spend her first week +out of school in New York provided she could find a suitable chaperon. +She had fallen upon the first and most harmless person in sight and +besieged her with entreaties. + +Miss Lucinda would have flared to the project had not a forbidding +presence loomed between her and the alluring invitation. She knew only +too well that Miss Joe Hill would never countenance the proposition. + +As she sat trying vainly to concentrate on her "Power Through Poise," +she was startled by a noise at the window, followed immediately by a +dishevelled figure that scrambled laughingly over the sill. + +"I came down the fire escape!" whispered the invader breathlessly, "Miss +Joe Hill caught us making fudge in the linen closet, and I gave her the +slip." + +"But Florence!" Miss Lucinda began reproachfully, but Floss interrupted +her: + +"Don't 'Florence' me, Miss Lucy! You're just pretending to be mad +anyhow. You are a perfect darling and Miss Joe Hill is an old bear!" + +Miss Lucinda was aghast at this irreverence but her halting protests +had no effect on the torrent of Floss's eloquence. + +"I am going to take you to New York," the girl declared "and I am going +to give you the time of your life! Dad's got to put us up in style--a +room and a bath apiece and maybe a sitting room. He likes me to splurge +around a bit, says he'd hate to have a daughter that acted like she +wasn't used to money." + +Miss Lucinda glanced apprehensively at the door and then back at the +sparkling face before her. + +"I can't go," she insisted miserably, trying to free her hand from +Floss's plump grasp. "My brother is expecting me and Miss Hill--" + +"Oh, bother Miss Joe Hill! You don't have to tell her anything about it! +You can pretend you are going to your brother's and meet me some place +on the road instead." + +Miss Lucinda looked horrified, but she listened. A material kept plastic +by years of manipulation does not harden to a new hand. Her objections +to Floss's plan grew fainter and fainter. + +"Think of the theaters," went on the temptress, putting an arm around +her neck, and ignoring the fact that caresses embarrassed Miss Lucinda +almost to the point of tears; "think of it! A new show every night, and +operas and pictures. There will be three Shakspere plays that week, +'Merchant of Venice,' 'Twelfth Night,' and 'Hamlet.'" + +Miss Lucinda's heart fluttered in her bosom. Although she had spent a +great part of her life interpreting the Bard of Avon, she had never seen +one of his plays produced. In her secret soul she believed that her own +rendition of "The quality of mercy," was not to be excelled. + +"I--I haven't any clothes," she urged feebly, putting up her last +defense. + +"I have," declared Floss in triumph--"two trunks full, and we are almost +the same size. It's just for a week, Miss Lucy; won't you come?" + +Miss Lucinda, sitting rigid, felt a warm cheek pressed against her own, +and a stray curl touched her lips. She sat for a moment with her eyes +closed. It was more than disconcerting to be so close to youth and joy +and life; it was infectious. The blood surged suddenly through her +veins, and an exultation seized her. + +"I'm going to do it," she cried recklessly; "I never had a real good +time in my life." + +Floss threw her arms about her and waltzed her across the room, but a +step in the hall brought them to a halt. + +"It's Miss Joe Hill," whispered Floss, with trepidation; "I am going out +the way I came. Don't you forget; you have promised." + +When Miss Joe Hill entered, she smiled complacently at finding Miss +Lucinda in the straight-back chair, absorbed in the second volume of the +"Power Through Poise." + +At the Union Depot in Chicago, two weeks later, a small, nervous lady +fluttered uncertainly from one door to another. She wore a short, brown +coat suit of classic severity, and a felt hat which was fastened under +her smoothly braided hair by a narrow elastic band. + +On her fourth trip to the main entrance she stopped a train-boy. "Can +you tell me where I can get a drink?" she asked, fanning her flushed +face. He looked surprised. "Third door to the left," he answered. Miss +Lucinda, carrying a hand-bag, a suit-case, and an umbrella, followed +directions. When she pushed open the heavy door she was confronted by a +long counter with shining glasses and a smiling bartender. Beating a +confused retreat, she fled back to the main entrance, and stood there +trembling. For the hundredth time that day she wished she had not come. + +The arrangements, so glibly planned by Floss, had not been adhered to in +any particular. At the last moment that mercurial young person had +decided to go on two days in advance and visit a friend in Philadelphia. +She wrote Miss Lucinda to come on to Chicago, where Tom would meet her +and give her her ticket, and that she would meet her in New York. + +With many misgivings and grievous twinges of conscience, Miss Lucinda +had bade Miss Joe Hill a guilty farewell, and started ostensibly for her +brother's home. At the Junction she changed cars for Chicago, missed two +connections, and lost her lunch-box. Now that she had arrived In +Chicago, three hours late, nervous and excited over her experiences, +there was no one to meet her. + +A sense of homesickness rushed over her, and she decided to return to +Locustwood. It was the same motive that might prompt a newly hatched +chicken, embarrassed by its sudden liberty, to return to its shell. Just +as she was going in search of a time-table, a round-faced young man came +up. + +"Miss Perkins?" he asked, and when she nodded, he went on: "Been looking +for you for half an hour. Sis told me what you looked like, but I +couldn't find you." He failed to observe that Floss's comparison had +been a squirrel. + +"Isn't it nearly time to start?" asked Miss Lucinda, nervously. + +"Just five minutes; but I want to explain something to you first." He +looked through the papers in his pocket and selected one. "This is a +pass," he explained; "the governor can get them over this road. I got +there late, so I could only get one that had been made out for somebody +else and not been used. It's all right, you know; you won't have a bit +of trouble." + +Miss Lucinda took the bit of paper, put on her glasses, and read, "Mrs. +Lura Doring." + +"Yes," said Tom; "that's the lady it was made out for. Nine chances out +of ten they won't mention it; but if anything comes up, you just say +yes, you are Mrs. Doring, and it will be all right." + +"But," protested Miss Lucinda, ready to weep, "I cannot tell a +falsehood." + +"I don't think you'll have to," said Tom, somewhat impatiently; "but if +you deny it, you'll get us both into no end of a scrape. Hello! there's +the call for your train. I'll bring your bag." + +In the confusion of getting settled in her section, and of expressing +her gratitude to Tom, Miss Lucinda forgot for the time the deadly +weight of guilt that rested upon her. It was not until the conductor +called for her ticket that her heart grew cold, and a look of +consternation swept over her face. It seemed to her that he eyed the +pass suspiciously and when he did not return it a terror seized her. She +knew he was coming back to ask her name, and what was her name? Mrs. +Dora Luring, or Mrs. Dura Loring, or Mrs. Lura Doring? + +In despair she fled to the dressing room and stood there concealed by +the curtains. In a few moments the conductor passed, and she peeped at +his retreating figure. He stopped in the narrow passage by the window +and studied her pass, then he compared it with a telegram which he held +in his hand. Just then the porter joined him, and she flattened herself +against the wall and held her breath. + +"It's the same name," she heard the conductor say in an undertone. "I'll +wire back to headquarters at the next stop." + +If ever retribution followed an erring soul, it followed Miss Lucinda on +that trip. No one spoke to her, and nothing happened, but she sat in +terrified suspense, looking neither to right nor left, her heart beating +frantically at every approach, and the whirring wheels repeating the +questioning refrain, "Dora Luring? Dura Loring? Lura Doring?" + +In New York, Floss met her as she stepped off the train, fairly +enveloping her in her enthusiasm. + +"Here you are, you old darling! I have been having a fit a minute for +fear you wouldn't come. This is my Cousin May. She is going to stay with +us the whole week. New York is simply heavenly, Miss Lucy. We have made +four engagements already. Matinee this afternoon, a dinner +to-night--What's the matter? Did you leave anything on the train?" + +"No, no," stammered Miss Lucinda, still casting furtive glances backward +at the conductor. "Was he talking to a policeman?" she asked +suspiciously. + +"Who?" + +"The conductor." + +The girls laughed. + +"I don't wonder you were scared," said Floss; "a policeman always does +remind me of Miss Joe Hill." + +They called a cab and, to Miss Lucinda's vast relief, were soon rolling +away from the scene of danger. + + * * * * * + +It needed only one glance into a handsome suite of an up-town hotel one +week later to prove the rapid moral deterioration of the prodigal. + +Arrayed in a shell-pink kimono, she was having her nails manicured. Her +gaily figured garment was sufficient in itself to give her an unusual +appearance; but there was a more startling reason. + +Miss Lucinda's hair, hitherto a pale drab smoothly drawn into a braided +coil at the back, had undergone a startling metamorphosis. It was +Floss's suggestion that Miss Lucinda wash it in "Golden Glow," a +preparation guaranteed to restore luster and beauty to faded locks. Miss +Lucinda had been over-zealous, and the result was that of copper in +sunshine. + +These outward manifestations, however, were insignificant compared with +the evidences of Miss Lucinda's inner guilt. She was taking the keenest +interest in the manicure's progress, only lifting her eyes occasionally +to survey herself with satisfaction in the mirror opposite. + +At first her sense of propriety had been deeply offended by her changed +appearance. She wept so bitterly that the girls, seeking to console her, +had overdone the matter. + +"I never thought you _could_ look so pretty," Floss had declared; "you +look ten years younger. It makes your eyes brighter and your skin +clearer. Of course this awfully bright color will wear off, and then it +will be just dear." + +Miss Lucinda began to feel better; she even allowed May to arrange her +changed locks in a modest pompadour. + +The week she had spent in New York was a riotous round of dissipation. +May's fiance had prepared a whirlwind of pleasures, and Miss Lucinda was +caught up and revolved at a pace that made her dizzy. Dances, dinners, +plays, roof-gardens, coaching parties, were all held together by a line +of candy, telegrams, and roses. + +There was only one time in the day when Miss Lucinda came down to earth. +Every evening, no matter how exhausted she might he from the frivolities +of the day, she conscientiously penned an affectionate letter to her +celestial affinity, expressing her undying devotion, and incidentally +mentioning the health and doings of her brother's family. These she sent +under separate cover to her brother to be mailed. + +Her conscience assured her that the reckoning would come, that sooner or +later she would face the bar of justice and receive the verdict of +guilty; but while one day of grace remained, she would still "in the +fire of spring, her winter garments of repentance fling." + +As the manicure put the finishing touch to her nails, Floss came rushing +in: + +"Hurry up, Miss Lucy dear! Dick Benson has just 'phoned that he is going +to take us for a farewell frolic. We leave here at five, have dinner +somewhere, then do all sorts of stunts. You are going to wear my tan +coat-suit and light blue waist. Yes, you are, too! That's all +foolishness; everybody wears elbow-sleeves. Blue's your color, and I've +got the hat to match. May says she'll fix your hair, and you can wear +her French-heel Oxfords again. They pitch you over? Oh, nonsense! you +just tripped along the other day like a nice little jay-bird. Hurry, +hurry!" + +Even Miss Lucinda's week of strenuous living had not prepared her for +what followed. First, there was a short trip on the train, during which +she conscientiously studied a map. Then followed a dinner at a large and +ostentatious hotel. The decorations were more brilliant, the music +louder, and the dresses gayer, than at any place Miss Lucinda had yet +been. She viewed the passing show through her glasses, and experienced a +pleasant thrill of sophistication. This, she assured herself, was +society; henceforth she was in a position to rail at its follies as one +having authority. + +In the midst of these complacent reflections she choked on a crumb, and, +after groping with closed eyes for her tumbler, gulped down the +contents. A strange, delicious tingle filled her mouth; she forgot she +was choking, and opened her eyes. To her horror, she found that she had +emptied her glass of champagne. + +"Spirituous liquor!" she thought in dismay, as the shade of Miss Joe +Hill rose before her. + +Total abstinence was such a firm plank in the platform of the celestial +affinity that, even in the chafing-dish, alcohol had been tabooed. The +utter iniquity of having deliberately swallowed a glass of champagne was +appalling to Miss Lucinda. She sat silent during the rest of the dinner, +eating little, and plucking nervously at the ruffles about her elbows. +The fear of rheumatism in her wrists which had assailed her earlier in +the evening gave way to a deeper and more disturbing discomfort. + +When the dinner was over, the party started forth on a hilarious round +of sight-seeing. Miss Lucinda limped after them, vaguely aware that she +was in a giant electric cage filled with swarming humanity, that bands +were playing, drums beating, and that at every turn disagreeable men +with loud voices were imploring her to "step this way." + +"Come on!" cried Dick. "We are going on the scenic railway." + +But the worm turned. "I--I'm not going," she protested. "I will wait +here. All of you go; I will wait right here." + +With a sigh of relief she slipped into a vacant corner, and gave herself +up to the luxury of being miserable. She longed for solitude in which to +face the full enormity of her misdeed, and to plan an immediate +reformation. She would throw herself bodily upon the mercy of Miss Joe +Hill, she would spare herself nothing; penance of any kind would be +welcome, bodily pain even-- + +She shifted her weight to the slender support of one high-heeled shoe +while she rested the other foot. Her hair, unused to its new +arrangement, pulled cruelly upon every restraining hair-pin, and her +head was beginning to ache. + +"I deny the slavery of sense. I repudiate the bondage of matter. I +affirm spirit and freedom," she quoted to herself, but the thought +failed to have any effect. + +A two-ringed circus was in progress at her right while at her left a +procession of camels and Egyptians was followed by a noisy crowd of +urchins. People were thronging in every direction, and she realized that +she was occasionally the recipient of a curious glance. She began to +watch rather anxiously for the return of her party. Ten minutes passed, +and still they did not come. + +Suddenly the awful possibility presented itself that they might have +lost her. She had no money, and even with it, she knew she could not +find her way back to the hotel alone. Anxiety gained upon her in leaps. +In bitter remorse she upbraided herself for ever having strayed from the +blessed protection of Miss Joe Hill's authority. Gulfs of hideous +possibility yawned at her feet; imagination faltered at the things that +might befall a lone and unprotected lady in this bedlam of frivolity. + +Just as her fear was turning to terror the party returned. + +"Oh, here you are!" cried Floss. "We thought we had lost you. It was +just dandy, Miss Lucy; you ought to have gone. It makes you feel like +your feet are growing right out of the top of your head. Come on; we are +going to have our tintypes taken." + +Strengthened by the fear of being left alone again, Miss Lucinda rallied +her courage, and once more followed in their wake. She was faint and +exhausted, but the one grain of comfort she extracted from the situation +was that through her present suffering she was atoning for her sins. + +At midnight Dick said: "There's only one other thing to do. It's more +fun than all the rest put together. Come this way." + +Miss Lucinda followed blindly. She had ceased to think; there were only +two realities left in the world, French-heels and hair-pins. + +At the foot of a flight of steps the party paused to buy tickets. + +"You can wait for us here, Miss Lucy," said Floss. + +Miss Lucinda protested eagerly that she was not too tired to go with +them. The prospect of being left alone again nerved her to climb to any +height. + +"But," cried Floss, "if you get up there, there's only one way to come +down. You have to--" + +"Let her come!" interrupted the others in laughing chorus, and, to Miss +Lucinda's great relief, she was allowed to pass through the little gate. + +When she reached the top of the long stairs, she looked about for the +attraction. A wide inclined plane slanted down to the ground floor, and +on it were bumps of various sizes and shapes, all of a shining +smoothness. She had a vague idea that it was a mammoth map for the +blind, until she saw Dick and Floss sit down at the top and go sliding +to the bottom. + +"Come on, Miss Lucinda!" cried May. "You can't get down any other way, +you know. Look out! Here I go!" + +One by one the others followed, and Miss Lucinda could not distinguish +them as they merged in the laughing crowd at the base. + +Delay was fatal; they would lose her again if she hesitated. In +desperation she gathered her skirts about her, and let herself +cautiously down on the floor. For one awful moment terror paralyzed her, +then, grasping her skirts with one hand and her hat with the other and +closing her eyes, she slid. + +Miss Lucinda did not "hump the bumps"; she slid gracefully around them, +describing fanciful curves and loops in her airy flight. When she +arrived in a confused bunch on the cushioned platform below, she was +greeted with a burst of applause. + +"Ain't it great?" cried Floss, straightening Miss Lucinda's hat and +trying to get her to open her eyes. "Dick says you are the gamest +chaperon he ever saw. Sit up and let me pin your collar straight." + +But Miss Lucinda's sense of direction had evidently been disturbed, for +she did not yet know which was up, and which was down. She leaned limply +against Floss and tried to get her breath. + +"Excuse me," said a man's voice above her, "but are either of you +ladies Mrs. Lura Doring?" + +The effect was electrical. Miss Lucinda sat bolt upright and stared +madly about. Tom Speckert had told her to be sure to answer to that +name. It would get him into trouble if she failed to do so. + +"Yes, yes," she gasped; "I am Mrs. Lura Doring." + +The members of her little party looked at her anxiously and ceased to +laugh. The slide had evidently unsettled her mind. + +"Why, this is Miss Perkins--Miss Lucinda Perkins of Locustwood, Ohio," +explained Dick Benson to the officer, "She's rather upset by her +tobogganing, and didn't understand you." + +"I did," declared Miss Lucinda, making mysterious signs to Dick to be +silent. "It's all right; I am Mrs. Doring." + +The officer looked suspiciously from one to the other, then consulted +his memorandum: "Small, slender woman, yellow hair, gray eyes, answers +to name of Mrs. Lura Doring. Left Chicago on June 10." + +"When did she get to New York?" asked the officer. + +"A week ago to-morrow, on the eleventh," said Floss. + +"Then I guess I'll have to take her up," said the officer; "she answers +all the requirements. I've got a warrant for her arrest." + +"Arrest!" gasped Benson. "What for?" + +"For forging her husband's name, and defrauding two hotels in Chicago." + +"My husband--" Miss Lucinda staggered to her feet, then, catching sight +of the crowd that had collected, she gave a fluttering cry and fainted +away in the arms of the law. + + * * * * * + +When Miss Joe Hill arrived in New York, in answer to an urgent telegram, +she went directly to work with her usual executive ability to unravel +the mystery. After obtaining the full facts in the case, she was able to +make a satisfactory explanation to the officers at headquarters. Then +she sent the girls to their respective homes, and turned her full +attention upon Miss Lucinda. + +"The barber will be here in half an hour to cut your hair," she +announced on the eve of their departure for the Catskills. + +"You ought not to be so good to me!" sobbed Miss Lucinda, who was lying +limply on a couch. + +Miss Joe Hill took her hand firmly and said: "Lucinda, error and illness +and disorder are man-made perversions. Let the past week be wiped from +our memories. Once we are in the mountains we will turn the formative +power of our thoughts upon things invisible, and yield ourselves to the +higher harmonies." + +The next morning, Miss Lucinda, shorn and penitent, was led forth from +the scene of her recent profligacy. It was her final exit from a world +which for a little space she had loved not wisely but too well. + + + + +CUPID GOES SLUMMING + + +It is a debatable question whether love is a cause or an effect, whether +Adam discovered a heart in the recesses of his anatomy before or after +the appearance of Eve. In the case of Joe Ridder it was distinctly the +former. + +At nineteen his knowledge of the tender passion consisted of dynamic +impressions received across the footlights at an angle of forty-five +degrees. Love was something that hovered with the calcium light about +beauty in distress, something that brought the hero from the uttermost +parts of the earth to hurl defiance at the villain and clasp the +swooning maiden in his arms; it was something that sent a fellow down +from his perch in the peanut gallery with his head hot and his hands +cold, and a sort of blissful misery rioting in his soul. + +Joe lived in what was known by courtesy as Rear Ninth Street. "Rear +Ninth Street" has a sound of exclusive aristocracy, and the name was a +matter of some pride to the dwellers in the narrow, unpaved alley that +writhed its watery way between two rows of tumble-down cottages, Joe's +family consisted of his father, whose vocation was plumbing, and whose +avocation was driving either in the ambulance or the patrol wagon; his +mother, who had discharged her entire debt to society when she bestowed +nine healthy young citizens upon it; eight young Ridders, and Joe +himself, who had stopped school at twelve to assume the financial +responsibilities of a rapidly increasing family. + +Lack of time and the limited opportunities of Rear Ninth Street, +together with an uncontrollable shyness, had brought Joe to his +nineteenth year of broad-shouldered, muscular manhood, with no +acquaintance whatever among the girls. But where a shrine is built for +Cupid and the tapers are kept burning, the devotee is seldom +disappointed. + +One morning in October, as Joe was guiding his rickety wheel around the +mud puddles on his way to the cooper shops, he saw a new sign on the +first cottage after he left the alley--"Mrs. R. Beaver, Modiste & Dress +Maker." In the yard and on the steps were a confusion of household +effects, and in their midst a girl with a pink shawl over her head. + +So absorbed was Joe in open-mouthed wonder over the "Modiste," that he +failed to see the girl, until a laughing exclamation made him look up. + +"Watch out!" + +"What's the matter?" asked Joe, coming to a halt. + +"I thought maybe you didn't know your wheels was going 'round!" the girl +said audaciously, then fled into the house and slammed the door. + +All day at the shops Joe worked as in a trance. Every iron rivet that he +drove into a wooden hoop was duly informed of the romantic occurrence of +the morning, and as some four thousand rivets are fastened into four +thousand hoops in the course of one day, it will be seen that the matter +was duly considered. The stray spark from a feminine eye had kindled +such a fierce fire in his heart that by the time the six o'clock +whistle blew the conflagration threw a rosy glow over the entire +landscape. + +As he rode home, the girl was sitting on the steps, but she would not +look at him. Joe had formulated a definite course of action, and though +the utter boldness of it nearly cost him his balance, he adhered to it +strictly. When just opposite her gate, without turning his head or his +eyes, he lifted his hat, then rode at a furious pace around the corner. + +"What you tidying up so fer, Joe?" asked his mother that night; "you +goin' out?" + +"No," said Joe evasively, as he endeavoured in vain to coax back the +shine to an old pair of shoes. + +"Well, I'm right glad you ain't. Berney and Dick ain't got up the coal, +and there's all them dishes to wash, and the baby she's got a misery in +her year." + +"Has paw turned up?" asked Joe. + +"Yes," answered Mrs. Ridder indifferently. "He looked in 'bout three +o'clock. He was tolerable full then, and I 'spec he's been took up by +now. He said he was goin' to buy me a bird-cage with a bird in it, but I +surely hope he won't. Them white mice he brought me on his last spree +chewed a hole in Berney's stocking; besides, I never did care much for +birds. Good lands! what are you goin' to wash yer head for?" + +Joe was substituting a basin of water for a small girl in the nearest +kitchen chair, and a howl ensued. + +"Shut up, Lottie!" admonished Mrs. Ridder, "you ain't any too good to +set on the floor. It's a good thing this is pay-day, Joe, for the rent's +due and four of the children's got their feet on the ground. You paid up +the grocery last week, didn't you!" + +Joe nodded a dripping head. + +"Well, I'll jes' git yer money out of yer coat while I think about it," +she went on as she rummaged in his pocket and brought out nine dollars. + +"Leave me a quarter," demanded Joe, gasping beneath his soap-suds. + +"All right," said Mrs. Ridder accommodatingly; "now that Bob and Ike +are gitting fifty cents a day, it ain't so hard to make out. I'll be +gittin' a new dress first thing, you know." + +"I seen one up at the corner!" said Joe. + +"A new dress?" + +"Naw, a dressmaker. She's got out her sign." + +"What's her name?" asked Mrs. Ridder, keen with interest. + +"Mrs. R. Beaver, Modiste," repeated Joe from the sign that floated in +letters of gold in his memory. + +"I knowed a Mrs. Beaver wunst, up on Eleventh Street--a big, fat woman +that got in a fuss with the preacher and smacked his jaws." + +"Did she have any children?" asked Joe. + +"Seems like there was one, a pretty little tow-headed girl." + +"That's her," announced Joe conclusively. "What was her name?" + +"Lawsee, I don't know. I never would 'a' ricollected Mrs. Beaver 'cepten +she was such a tarnashious woman, always a-tearin' up stumps, and never +happy unless she was rippitin' 'bout somethin'. _What_ you want? A +needle and thread to mend your coat? Why, what struck you? You been +wearin' it that a-way for a month. You better leave it be 'til I git +time to fix it." + +But Joe had determined to work out the salvation of his own wardrobe. +Late in the evening after the family had retired, he sat before the +stove with back humped and knees drawn up trying to coax a coarse thread +through a small needle. Surely no rich man need have any fear about +entering the kingdom of heaven since Joe Ridder managed to get that +particular thread through the eye of that particular needle! + +But when a boy is put at a work-bench at twelve years of age and does +the same thing day in and day out for seven long years, he may have lost +all of the things that youth holds dear, but one thing he is apt to have +learned, a dogged, plodding, unquestioning patience that shoves silently +along at the appointed task until the work is done. + +By midnight all the rents were mended and a large new patch adorned +each elbow. The patches, to be sure, were blue, and the coat was black, +but the stitches were set with mechanical regularity. Joe straightened +his aching shoulders and held the garment at arm's length with a smile. +It was his first votive offering at the shrine of love. + +The effect of Joe's efforts were prompt and satisfactory. The next day +being Sunday, he spent the major part of it in passing and repassing the +house on the corner, only going home between times to remove the mud +from his shoes and give an extra brush to his hair. The girl, meanwhile, +was devoting her day to sweeping off the front pavement, a scant three +feet of pathway from her steps to the wooden gate. Every time Joe passed +she looked up and smiled, and every time she smiled Joe suffered all the +symptoms of locomotor ataxia! + +By afternoon his emotional nature had reached the saturation point. +Without any conscious volition on his part, his feet carried him to the +gate and refused to carry him farther. His voice then decided to speak +for itself, and in strange, hollow tones he heard himself saying-- + +"Say, do you wanter go to the show with me?" + +"Sure," said the pink fascinator. "When?" + +"I don't care," said Joe, too much embarrassed to remember the days of +the week. + +"To-morrer night?" prompted the girl. + +"I don't care," said Joe, and the conversation seeming to lauguish, he +moved on. + +After countless eons of time the next night arrived. It found Joe and +his girl cosily squeezed in between two fat women in the gallery of the +People's Theatre. Joe had to sit sideways and double his feet up, but he +would willingly have endured a rack of torture for the privilege of +looking down on that fluffy, blond pompadour under its large bow, and of +receiving the sparkling glances that were flashed up at him from time to +time. + +"I ain't ever gone with a feller that I didn't know his name before!" +she confided before the curtain rose. + +"It's Joe," he said, "Joe Ridder, What's your front name?" + +"Miss Beaver," she said mischievously. "What do you think it is?" + +Joe could not guess. + +"Say," she went on, "I knew who you was all right even if I didn't know +yer name. I seen you over to the hall when they had the boxin' match." + +"The last one?" + +"Yes, when you and Ben Schenk was fightin'. Say, you didn't do a thing +to him!" + +The surest of all antidotes to masculine shyness was not without its +immediate effect. Joe straightened his shoulders and smiled +complacently. + +"Didn't I massacre him?" he said. "That there was a half-Nelson holt I +give him. It put him out of business all right, all right. Say, I never +knowed you was there!" + +"You bet I was," said his companion in honest admiration; "that was when +I got stuck on you!" + +Before he could fully comprehend the significance of this confession, +the curtain rose, and love itself had to make way for the tragic and +absorbing career of "The Widowed Bride." By the end of the third act +Joe's emotions were so wrought upon by the unhappy fate of the heroine, +that he rose abruptly and, muttering something about "gittin' some gum," +fled to the rear. When he returned and squeezed his way back to his seat +he found "Miss Beaver" with red eyes and a dejected mien. + +"What's the matter with you?" he asked banteringly. + +"My shoe hurts me," said Miss Beaver evasively. + +"What you givin' me?" asked Joe, with fine superiority. "These here +kinds of play never hurts my feelin's none. Catch me cryin' at a show!" + +But Miss Beaver was too much moved to recover herself at once. She sat +in limp dejection and surreptitiously dabbed her eyes with her moist +ball of a handkerchief. + +Joe was at a loss to know how to meet the situation until his hand, +quite by chance, touched hers as it lay on the arm of her chair. He +withdrew it as quickly as if he had received an electric shock, but the +next moment, like a lodestone following a magnet, it traveled slowly +back to hers. + +From that time on Joe sat staring straight ahead of him in embarrassed +ecstasy, while Miss Beaver, thus comforted, was able to pass through the +tragic finale of the last act with remarkable composure. + +When the time came to say "Good night" at the Beavers' door, all Joe's +reticence and awkwardness returned. He watched her let herself in and +waited until she lit a candle. Then he found himself out on the pavement +in the dark feeling as if the curtain had gone down on the best show be +had ever seen. Suddenly a side window was raised cautiously and he heard +his name called softly. He had turned the corner, but he went back to +the fence. + +"Say!" whispered the voice at the window, "I forgot to tell you--It's +Mittie." + +The course of true love thus auspiciously started might have flowed on +to blissful fulfilment had it not encountered the inevitable barrier in +the formidable person of Mrs. Beaver. Not that she disapproved of Mittie +receiving attention; on the contrary, it was her oft-repeated boast that +"Mittie had been keepin' company with the boys ever since she was six, +and she 'spected she'd keep right on till she was sixty." It was not +attention in the abstract that she objected to, it was rather the +threatening of "a steady," and that steady, the big, awkward, shy Joe +Ridder. With serpentine wisdom she instituted a counter-attraction. + +Under her skilful manipulation, Ben Schenk, the son of the +saloon-keeper, soon developed into a rival suitor. Ben was engaged at a +down-town pool-room, and wore collars on a weekday without any apparent +discomfort. The style of his garments, together with his easy air of +sophistication, entirely captivated Mrs. Beaver, while Ben on his part +found it increasingly pleasant to lounge in the Beavers' best parlour +chair and recount to a credulous audience the prominent part which he +was taking in all the affairs of the day. + +Matters reached a climax one night when, after some close financing, +Joe Ridder took Mittie to the Skating Rink. An unexpected run on the tin +savings bank at the Ridders' had caused a temporary embarrassment, and +by the closest calculation Joe could do no better than pay for two +entrance-tickets and hire one pair of skates. He therefore found it +necessary to develop a sprained ankle, which grew rapidly worse as they +neared the rink. + +"I don't think you orter skate on it, Joe!" said Mittie sympathetically. + +"Oh, I reckon I kin manage it all O.K.," said Joe. + +"But I ain't agoin' to let you!" she declared with divine authority. "We +can just set down and rubber at the rest of them." + +"Naw, you don't," said Joe; "you kin go on an' skate, and I'll watch +you." + +The arrangement proved entirely satisfactory so long as Mittie paused on +every other round to rest or to get him to adjust a strap, or to hold +her hat, but when Ben Schenk arrived on the scene, the situation was +materially changed. + +It was sufficiently irritating to see Ben go through an exhaustive +exhibition of his accomplishments under the admiring glances of Mittie, +but when he condescended to ask her to skate, and even offered to teach +her some new figures, Joe's irritation rose to ire. In vain he tried to +catch her eye; she was laughing and clinging to Ben and giving all her +attention to his instructions. + +Joe sat sullen and indignant, savagely biting his nails. He would have +parted with everything he had in the world at that moment for three +paltry nickels! + +On and on went the skaters, and on and on went the music, and Joe turned +his face to the wall and doggedly waited. When at last Mittie came to +him flushed and radiant, he had no word of greeting for her. + +"Did you see all the new steps Mr. Ben learnt me?" she asked. + +"Naw," said Joe. + +"Does yer foot hurt you, Joe?" + +"Naw," said Joe. + +Mittie was too versed in masculine moods to press the subject. She +waited until they were out under the starlight in the clear stretch of +common near home. Then she slipped her hand through his arm and said +coaxingly-- + +"Say now, Joe, what you kickin' 'bout?" + +"Him," said Joe comprehensively. + +"Mr. Ben? Why, he's one of our best friends. Maw likes him better'n +anybody I ever kept company with. What have all you fellers got against +him?" + +"He was black marveled at the hall all right," said Joe grimly. + +"What for?" + +"It ain't none of my business to tell what for," said Joe, though his +lips ached to tell what he knew. + +"Maw says all you fellows are jealous 'cause he talks so pretty and +wears such stylish clothes." + +"We might, too, if we got 'em like he done," Joe began, then checked +himself. "Say, Mittie, why don't yer maw like me?" + +"She says you haven't got any school education and don't talk good +grammar." + +"Don't I talk good grammar?" asked Joe anxiously. + +"I don't know," said Mittie; "that's what she says. How long did you go +to school?" + +"Me? Oh, off and on 'bout two year. The old man was always poorly, and +Maw, she had to work out, till me an' the boys done got big enough to +work. 'Fore that I had to stay home and mind the kids. Don't I talk like +other fellers, Mittie?" + +"You talk better than some," said Mittie loyally. + +After he left her, Joe reviewed the matter carefully. He thought of the +few educated people he knew--the boss at the shops, the preacher up on +Twelfth Street, the doctor who sewed up his head after he stopped a +runaway team, even Ben Schenk, who had gone through the eighth grade. +Yes, there was a difference. Being clean and wearing good clothes were +not the only things. + +When he got home, he tiptoed into the front room, and picking his way +around the various beds and pallets, took Berney's school satchel from +the top of the wardrobe. Retracing his steps, he returned to the +kitchen, and with his hat still on and his coat collar turned up, he +began to take an inventory of his mental stock. + +One after another of the dog-eared, grimy books he pondered over, and +one after another he laid aside, with a puzzled, distressed look +deepening in his face. + +"Berney she ain't but fourteen an' she gits on to 'em," he said to +himself; "looks like I orter." + +Once more he seized the nearest book, and with the courage of despair +repeated the sentences again and again to himself. + +"That you, Joe?" asked Mrs. Ridder from the next room an hour later. "I +didn't know you'd come. Yer paw sent word by old man Jackson that he was +at Hank's Exchange way down on Market Street, and fer you to come git +him." + +"It's twelve o'clock," remonstrated Joe. + +"I know it," said Mrs. Ridder, yawning, "but I reckon you better go. The +old man always gits the rheumatiz when he lays out all night, and that +there rheumatiz medicine cost sixty-five cents a bottle!" + +"All right," said Joe with a resignation born of experience, "but don't +you go and put no more of the kids in my bed. Jack and Gus kick the +stuffin' out of me now." + +And with this parting injunction he went wearily out into the night, +giving up his struggle with Minerva, only to begin the next round with +Bacchus. + +The seeds of ambition, though sown late, grew steadily, and Joe became +so desirous of proving worthy of the consideration of Mrs. Beaver that +he took the boss of the shops partially into his confidence. + +"It's a first-rate idea, Joe," said the boss, a big, capable fellow who +had worked his way up from the bottom. "I could move you right along the +line if you had a better education. I have a good offer up in Chicago +next year; if you can get more book sense in your head, I will take you +along." + +"Where can I get it at?" asked Joe, somewhat dubious of his own power +of achievement. + +"Night school," said the boss. "I know a man that teaches in the +Settlement over on Burk Street. I'll put you in there if you like." + +Now, the prospect of going to school to a man who had been head of a +family for seven years, who had been the champion scrapper of the South +End, who was in the midst of a critical love affair, was trebly +humiliating. But Joe was game, and while he determined to keep the +matter as secret as possible, he agreed to the boss's proposition. + +"You're mighty stingy with yourself these days!" said Mittie Beaver one +night a month later, when he stopped on his way to school. + +Joe grinned somewhat foolishly. "I come every evenin'," he said. + +"For 'bout ten minutes," said Mittie, with a toss of her voluminous +pompadour; "there's some wants more'n ten minutes." + +"Ben Schenk?" asked Joe, alert with jealousy. + +"I ain't sayin'," went on Mittie. "What do you do of nights, hang around +the hall?" + +"Naw," said Joe indignantly. "There ain't nobody can say they've sawn +me around the hall sence I've went with you!" + +"Well, where do you go?" + +"I'm trainin'," said Joe evasively. + +"I don't believe you like me as much as you used to," said Mittie +plaintively. + +Joe looked at her dumbly. His one thought from the time he cooked his +own early breakfast, down to the moment when he undressed in the cold +and dropped into his place in bed between Gussie and Dick, was of her. +The love of her made his back stop aching as he bent hour after hour +over the machine; it made all the problems and hard words and new ideas +at night school come straight at last; it made the whole sordid, ugly +day swing round the glorious ten minutes that they spent together in the +twilight. + +"Yes, I like you all right," he said, twisting his big, grease-stained +hands in embarrassment. "You're the onliest girl I ever could care +about. Besides, I couldn't go with no other girl if I wanted to, 'cause +I don't know none." + +Is it small wonder that Ben Schenk's glib protestations, reinforced by +Mrs. Beaver's own zealous approval, should have in time outclassed the +humble Joe? The blow fell just when the second term of night school was +over, and Joe was looking forward to long summer evenings of unlimited +joy. + +He had bought two tickets for a river excursion, and was hurrying into +the Beavers' when he encountered a stolid bulwark in the form of Mrs. +Beaver, whose portly person seemed permanently wedged into the narrow +aperture of the front door. She sat in silent majesty, her hands just +succeeding in clasping each other around her ample waist. Had she closed +her eyes, she might have passed for a placid, amiable person, whose +angles of disposition had also become curves. But Mrs. Beaver did not +close her eyes. She opened them as widely as the geography of her face +would permit, and coldly surveyed Joe Ridder. + +Mrs. Beaver was a born manager; she had managed her husband into an +untimely grave, she had managed her daughter from the hour she was +born, she had dismissed three preachers, induced two women to leave +their husbands, and now dogmatically announced herself arbiter of +fashions and conduct in Rear Ninth Street. + +"No, she can't see you," she said firmly in reply to Joe's question. +"She's going out to a dance party with Mr. Schenk." + +"Where at?" demanded Joe, who still trembled in her presence. + +"Somewheres down town," said Mrs. Beaver, "to a real swell party." + +"He oughtn't to take her to no down-town dance," said Joe, his +indignation getting the better of his shyness. "I don't want her to go, +and I'm going to tell her so." + +"In-deed!" said Mrs. Beaver in scorn. "And what have you got to say +about it? I guess Mr. Schenk's got the right to take her anywhere he +wants to!" + +"What right?" demanded Joe, getting suddenly a bit dizzy. + +"'Cause he's got engaged to her. He's going to give her a real handsome +turquoise ring, fourteen-carat gold." + +"Didn't Mittie send me no word?" faltered Joe. + +"No," said Mrs. Beaver unhesitatingly, though she had in her pocket a +note for him from the unhappy Mittie. + +Joe fumbled for his hat. "I guess I better be goin'," he said, a lump +rising ominously in his throat. He got the gate open and made his way +half dazed around the corner. As he did so, he saw a procession of small +Ridders bearing joyously down upon him. + +"Joe!" shrieked Lottie, arriving first, "Maw says hurry on home; we got +another new baby to our house." + +During the weeks that followed, Rear Ninth Street was greatly thrilled +over the unusual event of a home wedding. The reticence of the groom was +more than made up for by the bulletins of news issued daily by Mrs. +Beaver. To use that worthy lady's own words, "she was in her elements!" +She organised various committees--on decoration, on refreshment, and +even on the bride's trousseau, tactfully permitting each assistant to +contribute in some way to the general grandeur of the occasion. + +"I am going to have this a real showy wedding," she said from her point +of vantage by the parlour window, where she sat like a field-marshal and +issued her orders. "Those paper fringes want to go clean across every +one of the shelves, and you all must make enough paper roses to pin +'round the edges of all the curtains. Ever'thing's got to look gay and +festive." + +"Mittie don't look very gay," ventured one of the assistants. "I seen +her in the kitchen cryin' a minute ago." + +"Mittie's a fool!" announced Mrs. Beaver calmly. "She don't know a good +thing when she sees it! Get them draperies up a little higher in the +middle; I'm going to hang a silver horseshoe on to the loop." + +The wedding night arrived, and the Beaver cottage was filled to +suffocation with the _elite_ of Rear Ninth Street. The guests found it +difficult to circulate freely in the room on account of the elaborate +and aggressive decorations, so they stood in silent rows awaiting the +approaching ceremony. As the appointed hour drew near, and none of the +groom's family arrived, a few whispered comments were exchanged. + +"It's 'most time to begin," whispered the preacher to Mrs. Beaver, whose +keen black eyes had been watching the door with growing impatience. + +"Well, we won't wait on nobody," she said positively, as she rose and +left the room to give the signal. + +In the kitchen she found great consternation: the bride, pale and +dejected in all her finery, sat on the table, all the chairs being in +the parlour. + +"What's the matter?" demanded Mrs. Beaver. + +"He ain't come!" announced one of the women in tragic tones. + +"Ben Schenk ain't here?" asked Mrs. Beaver in accents so awful that her +listeners quaked. "Well, I'll see the reason why!" + +Out into the night she sallied, picking her way around the puddles until +she reached the saloon at the corner. + +"Where's Ben Schenk?" she demanded sternly of the men around the bar. + +There was an ominous silence, broken only by the embarrassed shuffling +of feet. + +Drawing herself up, Mrs. Beaver thumped the counter. + +"Where's he at?" she repeated, glaring at the most embarrassed of the +lot. + +"He don't know where he's at," said the man. "I rickon he cilebrated a +little too much fer the weddin'." + +"Can he stand up?" demanded Mrs. Beaver. + +"Not without starchin'," said the man, and amid the titter that +followed, Mrs. Beaver made her exit. + +On the corner she paused to reconnoitre. Across the street was her gaily +lighted cottage, where all the guests were waiting. She thought of the +ignominy that would follow their abrupt dismissal, she thought of the +refreshments that must be used to-night or never, she thought of the +little bride sitting disconsolate on the kitchen table. + +With a sudden determination she decided to lead a forlorn hope. Facing +about, she marched weightily around to the rear of the saloon and began +laboriously to climb the steps that lead to the hall. At the door she +paused and made a rapid survey of the room until she found what she was +looking for. + +"Joe Ridder!" she called peremptorily. + +Joe, haggard and listless, put down his billiard-cue and came to the +door. + +Five minutes later a breathless figure presented himself at the Beaver +kitchen. He had on a clean shirt and his Sunday clothes, and while he +wore no collar, a clean handkerchief was neatly pinned about his neck. + +"Everybody but the bride and groom come into the parlour," commanded +Mrs. Beaver. "I'm a-going to make a speech, and tell 'em that the bride +has done changed her mind." + +Joe and Mittie, left alone, looked at each other in dazed rapture. She +was the first to recover. + +"Joe!" she cried, moving timidly towards him, "ain't you mad? Do you +still want me?" + +Joe, with both hands entangled in her veil and his feet lost in her +train, looked down at her through swimming eyes. + +"Want yer?" he repeated, and his lips trembled, "gee whiz! I feel like I +done ribbeted a hoop round the hull world!" + +The signal was given for them to enter the parlour, and without further +interruption the ceremony proceeded, if not in exact accordance with the +plans of Mrs. Beaver, at least in obedience to the mandate of a certain +little autocrat who sometimes takes a hand in the affairs of man even in +Rear Ninth Street. + + + + +THE SOUL OF O SANA SAN + + +O Sana San stood in the heart of a joyous world, as much a part of the +radiant, throbbing, irresponsible spring as the golden butterfly which +fluttered in her hand. Through the close-stemmed bamboos she could see +the sparkling river racing away to the Inland Sea, while slow-moving +junks, with their sixfold sails, glided with almost imperceptible motion +toward a far-distant port. From below, across the rice-fields, came the +shouts and laughter of naked bronze babies who played at the water's +edge, and from above, high up on the ferny cliff, a mellow-throated +temple bell answered the call of each vagrant breeze. Far away, shutting +out the strange, big world, the luminous mountains hung in the purple +mists of May. + +And every note of color in the varied landscape, from the purple irises +whose royal reflection stained the water below, to the rosy-tipped +clover at the foot of the hill, was repeated in the kimono and _obi_ of +the child who flitted about in the grasses, catching butterflies in her +long-handled net. + +It was in the days of the Japanese-Russian War, but the constant echo of +the great conflict that sounded around her disturbed her no more than it +did the birds overhead. All day long the bugles sounded from the +parade-grounds, and always and always the soldiers went marching away to +the front. Around the bend in the river were miniature fortifications +where recruits learned to make forts and trenches, and to shoot through +tiny holes in a wall at imaginary Russian troopers. Down in the town +below were long white hospitals where twenty thousand sick and wounded +soldiers lay. No thought of the horror of it came to trouble O Sana San. +The cherry-trees gladly and freely gave up their blossoms to the wind, +and so much the country give up its men for the Emperor. Her father had +marched away, then one brother, then another, and she had held up her +hands and shouted, "Banzai!" and smiled because her mother smiled. +Everything was vague and uncertain, and no imagined catastrophe troubled +her serenity. It was all the will of the Emperor, and it was well. + +Life was a very simple matter to O Sana San. She rose when the sun +climbed over the mountain, bathed her face and hands in the shallow +copper basin in the garden, ate her breakfast of bean-curd and pickled +fish and warm yellow tea. Then she hung the quilts over poles to sun, +dusted the screens, and placed an offering of rice on the steps of the +tiny shrine to Inari, where the little foxes kept guard. These simple +duties being accomplished, she tied a bit of bean-cake in her gaily +colored handkerchief, and stepping into her _geta_, went pattering off +to school. + +It was an English school, where she sat with hands folded through the +long mornings, passively permitting the lessons to filter through her +brain, and listening in smiling patience while the kind foreign ladies +spoke incomprehensible things. Sometimes she helped pass the hours by +watching the shadows of the dancing leaves outside; sometimes she told +herself stories about "The Old Man Who Made Withered Trees to Blossom," +or about "Momotaro, the Little Peach Boy." Again she would repeat the +strange English words and phrases that she heard, and would puzzle out +their meaning. + +But the sum of her lore consisted in being happy; and when the shadow of +the mountains began to slip across the valley, she would dance back +along the homeward way, singing with the birds, laughing with the +rippling water, and adding her share of brightness to the sunshine of +the world. + +As she stood on this particular morning with her net poised over a +butterfly, she heard the tramping of many feet. A slow cavalcade was +coming around the road,--a long line of coolies bearing bamboo +stretchers,--and in the rear, in a jinrikisha, was a foreign man with a +red cross on his sleeve. + +O Sana San scrambled up the bank and watched with smiling curiosity as +the men halted to rest. On the stretcher nearest her lay a young +Russian prisoner with the fair skin and blond hair that are so +unfamiliar to Japanese eyes. His blanket was drawn tight around his +shoulders, and he lay very still, with lips set, gazing straight up +through the bamboo leaves to the blue beyond. + +Then it was that O Sana San, gazing in frank inquisitiveness at the +soldier, saw a strange thing happen. A tear formed on his lashes and +trickled slowly across his temple; then another and another, until they +formed a tiny rivulet. More and more curious, she drew yet nearer, and +watched the tears creep unheeded down the man's face. She was sure he +was not crying, because soldiers never cry; it could not be the pain, +because his face was very smooth and calm. What made the tears drop, +drop on the hard pillow, and why did he not brush them away? + +A vague trouble dawned in the breast of O Sana San. Running back to the +field, she gathered a handful of wild flowers and returned to the +soldier. The tears no longer fell, but his lips quivered and his face +was distorted with pain. She looked about her in dismay. The coolies +were down by the river, drinking from their hands and calling to one +another; the only person to whom she could appeal was the foreigner with +the red cross on his arm who was adjusting a bandage for a patient at +the end of the line. + +With halting steps and many misgivings, she timidly made her way to his +side; then placing her hands on her knees, she bowed low before him. The +embarrassment of speaking to a stranger and a foreigner almost +overwhelmed her, but she mustered her bravest array of English, and +pointing to the stretcher, faltered out her message: + +"Soldier not happy very much is. I sink soldier heart sorry." + +The Red Cross orderly looked up from his work, and his eyes followed her +gesture. + +"He is hurt bad," he said shortly; "no legs, no arms." + +"_So--deska_?" she said politely, then repeated his words in puzzled +incomprehension: "Nowarms? Nowarms?" + +When she returned to the soldier she gathered up the flowers which she +had dropped by the wayside, and timidly offered them to him. For a long +moment she waited, then her smile faded mid her hand dropped. With a +child's quick sensitiveness to rebuff, she was turning away when an +exclamation recalled her. + +The prisoner was looking at her in a strange, distressed way; his +deep-set gray eyes glanced down first at one bandaged shoulder, then at +the other, then he shook his head. + +As O Sana San followed his glance, a startled look of comprehension +sprang into her face. "Nowarms!" she repeated softly as the meaning +dawned upon her, then with a little cry of sympathy she ran forward and +gently laid her flowers on his breast. + +The cavalcade moved on, under the warm spring sun, over the smooth white +road, under the arching cryptomerias; but little O Sana Sun stood with +her butterfly net over her shoulder and watched it with troubled eyes. +A dreadful something was stirring in her breast, something clutched at +her throat, and she no longer saw the sunshine and the flowers. Kneeling +by the roadside, she loosened the little basket which was tied to her +_obi_ and gently lifted the lid. Slowly at first, and then with eager +wings, a dozen captive butterflies fluttered back to freedom. + + * * * * * + +Along the banks of the Upper Flowing River, in a rudely improvised +hospital, lay the wounded Russian prisoners. To one of the small rooms +at the end of the ward reserved for fatally wounded patients a +self-appointed nurse came daily, and rendered her tiny service in the +only way she knew. + +O Sana San's heart had been so wrought upon by the sad plight of her +soldier friend that she had begged to be taken to see him and to be +allowed to carry him flowers with her own hand. Her mother, in whom +smoldered the fires of dead samurai, was quick to be gracious to a +fallen foe, and it was with her consent that O Sana San went day after +day to the hospital. + +The nurses humored her childish whim, thinking each day would be the +last; but as the days grew into weeks and the weeks into months, her +visits became a matter of course. + +And the young Russian, lying on his rack of pain, learned to watch for +her coming as the one hour of brightness in an interminable night of +gloom. He made a sort of sun-dial of the cracks in the floor, and when +the shadows reached a certain spot his tired eyes grew eager, and he +turned his head to listen for the patter of the little _tabi_ that was +sure to sound along the hall. + +Sometimes she would bring her picture-books and read him wonderful +stories in words he did not understand, and show him the pictures of +Momotaro, who was born out of a peach and who grew up to be so strong +and brave that he went to the Ogres' Island and carried off all their +treasures,--caps and coats that made their wearers invisible, jewels +which made the tide come or go, coral and amber and tortoise-shell,--and +all these things the little Peach Boy took back to his kind old foster +mother and father, and they all lived happily forever after. And in the +telling O Sana Man's voice would thrill, and her almond eyes grow +bright, while her slender brown finger pointed out the figures on the +gaily colored pages. + +Sometimes she would sing to him, in soft minor strains, of the beauty of +the snow on the pine-trees, or the wonders of Fuji-San. + +And he would pucker his white lips and try to whistle the accompaniment, +to her great amusement and delight. + +Many were the treasures she brought forth from the depths of her long +sleeves, and many were the devices she contrived to amuse him. The most +ambitious achievement was a miniature garden in a wooden box--a +wonderful garden where grasses stood for tall bamboo, and a saucer of +water, surrounded by moss and pebbles, made a shining lake across which +a bridge led through a _torii_ to a diminutive shrine above. + +He would watch her deft fingers fashioning the minute objects, and +listen to her endless prattle in her soft, unknown tongue, and for a +little space the pain-racked body would relax and the cruel furrows +vanish from between his brows. + +But there were days in which the story and the song and the play had no +part. At such times O Sana San slipped in on tiptoe and took her place +at the head of the cot where he could not see her. Sitting on her heels, +with hand folded in hand, she watched patiently for hours, alert to +adjust the covers or smooth the pillow, but turning her eyes away when +the spasms of pain contorted his face. All the latent maternity in the +child rose to succor his helplessness. The same instinct that had +prompted her to strap her doll upon her back when yet a mere baby +herself, made her accept the burden of his suffering, and mother him +with a very passion of tenderness. + +Longer and sultrier grew the days; the wistaria, hanging in feathery +festoons from many a trellis, gave way to the flaming azalea, and the +azalea in turn vanished with the coming of the lotus that floated +sleepily in the old castle moat. + +Still the soul of the young Russian was held a prisoner in his shattered +body, and the spirit in him grew restive at the delay. Months passed +before the doctor told him his release was at hand. It was early in the +morning, and the sun fell in long, level rays across his cot. He turned +his head and looked wistfully at the distance it would have to travel +before it would be afternoon. + +The nurse brought the screen and placed it about the bed--the last +service she could render. For hours the end was expected, but moment by +moment he held death at bay, refusing to accept the freedom that he so +earnestly longed for. At noon the sky became overcast and the slow +falling of rain was heard on the low wooden roof. But still his fervent +eyes watched the sun-dial. + +At last the sound of _geta_ was heard without, and in a moment O Sana +San slipped past the screen and dropped on her knees beside him. Under +one arm was tightly held a small white kitten, her final offering at the +shrine of love. + +When he saw her quaint little figure, a look of peace came over his face +and he closed his eyes. An interpreter, knowing that a prisoner was +about to die, came to the bedside and asked if he wanted to leave any +message. He stirred slightly then, in a scarcely audible voice, asked in +Russian what the Japanese word was for "good-by." A long pause followed, +during which the spirit seemed to hover irresolute upon the brink of +eternity. + +O Sana San sat motionless, her lips parted, her face full of the awe and +mystery of death. Presently he stirred and turned his head slowly until +his eyes were on a level with her own. + +"_Sayonara_," he whispered faintly, and tried to smile; and O Sana San, +summoning all her courage to restrain the tears, smiled bravely back and +whispered, "Sayonara." + +It was scarcely said before the spirit of the prisoner started forth +upon his final journey, but he went not alone. The soul of a child went +with him, leaving in its place the tender, newborn soul of a woman. + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Miss Mink's Soldier and Other Stories +by Alice Hegan Rice + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MISS MINK'S SOLDIER *** + +***** This file should be named 15230.txt or 15230.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/5/2/3/15230/ + +Produced by Kentuckiana Digital Library, David Garcia, Josephine +Paolucci, Joshua Hutchinson and the PG Online Distributed Proofreading +Team. + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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