diff options
| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:51:15 -0700 |
|---|---|---|
| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:51:15 -0700 |
| commit | f67956ddacd97f03281e6c6242105fe37a32d2dd (patch) | |
| tree | 0f883cbe0c7854074c1cee743500384eeaed95b9 /17497-h | |
Diffstat (limited to '17497-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/17497-h.htm | 3831 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/crest.jpg | bin | 0 -> 26800 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img004.jpg | bin | 0 -> 73390 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img009.jpg | bin | 0 -> 42291 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img011.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35331 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img012.jpg | bin | 0 -> 46121 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img017.jpg | bin | 0 -> 92140 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img039.jpg | bin | 0 -> 96360 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img047.jpg | bin | 0 -> 100355 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img051.jpg | bin | 0 -> 98965 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img062.jpg | bin | 0 -> 88024 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img075.jpg | bin | 0 -> 66633 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img086.jpg | bin | 0 -> 50876 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img103.jpg | bin | 0 -> 98188 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img117.jpg | bin | 0 -> 45507 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img118.jpg | bin | 0 -> 29910 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img121.jpg | bin | 0 -> 74854 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 17497-h/images/img128.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35688 bytes |
18 files changed, 3831 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/17497-h/17497-h.htm b/17497-h/17497-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8894d98 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/17497-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,3831 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Ole Mammy's Torment, by Annie Fellows Johnston</title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + p { margin-top: .75em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: .75em; + } + h1,h2,h3,h4,h5,h6 { + text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ + clear: both; + } + hr { width: 33%; + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + clear: both; + } + + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;} + + body{margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; + } + + .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ + /* visibility: hidden; */ + position: absolute; + left: 92%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + } /* page numbers */ + + .linenum {position: absolute; top: auto; left: 4%;} /* poetry number */ + .blockquot{margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 10%;} + .sidenote {width: 20%; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em; margin-left: 1em; + float: right; clear: right; margin-top: 1em; + font-size: smaller; color: black; background: #eeeeee; border: dashed 1px;} + + .bb {border-bottom: solid 2px;} + .bl {border-left: solid 2px;} + .bt {border-top: solid 2px;} + .br {border-right: solid 2px;} + .bbox {border: solid 2px; padding-bottom: .5em; padding-top: .5em; + padding-left: .5em; padding-right: .5em;} + .padding {padding-bottom: 2em; padding-top: 2em;} + + .center {text-align: center;} + .right {text-align: right;} + .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + .u {text-decoration: underline;} + + .caption {font-weight: bold;} + + .figcenter {margin: auto; text-align: center;} + + .figleft {float: left; clear: left; margin-left: 0; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-top: + 1em; margin-right: 1em; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .figright {float: right; clear: right; margin-left: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; + margin-top: 1em; margin-right: 0; padding: 0; text-align: center;} + + .footnotes {border: dashed 1px;} + .footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;} + .footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;} + .fnanchor {vertical-align: super; font-size: .8em; text-decoration: none;} + + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem .stanza {margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em;} + .poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + hr.full { width: 100%; } + pre {font-size: 75%;} + .ind2 { margin-left: 2em; } + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> +</head> +<body> +<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, Ole Mammy's Torment, by Annie Fellows +Johnston, Illustrated by Mary G. Johnston and Amy M. Sacker</h1> +<pre> +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 <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre> +<p>Title: Ole Mammy's Torment</p> +<p>Author: Annie Fellows Johnston</p> +<p>Release Date: January 12, 2006 [eBook #17497]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT***</p> +<p> </p> +<h4>E-text prepared by David Garcia, Christine D.,<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (<a href="http://www.pgdp.net/">http://www.pgdp.net/</a>)<br /> + from page images generously made available by the<br /> + <a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/">Kentuckiana Digital Library</a></h4> +<p> </p> +<table border="0" cellpadding="10" style="background-color: #ccccff;"> + <tr> + <td valign="top"> + Note: + </td> + <td> + Images of the original pages are available through the Electronic + Text Collection of the Kentuckiana Digital Library. See + <a href="http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-247-31689486&view=toc"> + http://kdl.kyvl.org/cgi/t/text/text-idx?c=kyetexts;cc=kyetexts;xc=1&idno=B92-247-31689486&view=toc</a> + </td> + </tr> +</table> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> +<p> </p> + +<h1>OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT</h1> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p class="center"> +<a href="#ILLUSTRATIONS"><b>ILLUSTRATIONS</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_I"><b>CHAPTER I.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_II"><b>CHAPTER II.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_III"><b>CHAPTER III.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IV"><b>CHAPTER IV.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_V"><b>CHAPTER V.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VI"><b>CHAPTER VI.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VII"><b>CHAPTER VII.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII"><b>CHAPTER VIII.</b></a><br /> +<a href="#CHAPTER_IX"><b>CHAPTER IX.</b></a><br /></p> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + + + +<div class="bbox"> +<h5>Works of</h5> +<h4>ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</h4> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary="other_books_by_author"> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><hr style='width: 15%;' /></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><b>The Little Colonel Series</b></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>(<i>Trade Mark, Reg. U.S. Pat. Of.</i>)</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>Each one vol., large 12mo, cloth, illustrated</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel Stories</td><td align='right'>$1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='center'>(Containing in one volume the three stories, "The Little Colonel," "The Giant Scissors," and "Two Little Knights of Kentucky.")</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's House Party</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Holidays</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Hero</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel at Boarding-School</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel in Arizona</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Christmas Vacation</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel: Maid of Honor</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel's Knight Comes Riding</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mary Ware: The Little Colonel's Chum</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> The above 10 vols., <i>boxed</i></td><td align='right'>15.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'> <i>In Preparation</i>: A new "Little Colonel" Book.</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel Good Times Book</td><td align='right'>1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><b>Illustrated Holiday Editions</b></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>Each one vol., small quarto, cloth, illustrated, and printed in colour</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel</td><td align='right'>$1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Giant Scissors</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Two Little Knights of Kentucky</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Big Brother</td><td align='right'>1.25</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><b>Cosy Corner Series</b></td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'>Each one vol., thin 12mo, cloth, illustrated</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Little Colonel</td><td align='right'>$.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Giant Scissors</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Two Little Knights of Kentucky</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Big Brother</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Ole Mammy's Torment</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Story of Dago</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Cicely</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Aunt 'Liza's Hero</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Quilt that Jack Built</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Flip's "Islands of Providence"</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Mildred's Inheritance</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><b>Other Books</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Joel: A Boy of Galilee</td><td align='right'>$1.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>In the Desert of Waiting</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Three Weavers</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Keeping Tryst</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Legend of the Bleeding Heart</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Rescue of the Princess Winsome</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>The Jester's Sword</td><td align='right'>.50</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Asa Holmes</td><td align='right'>1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>Songs Ysame (Poems, with Albion Fellows Bacon)</td><td align='right'>1.00</td></tr> +<tr><td colspan='2' align='center'><b>L. C. PAGE & COMPANY</b></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><b>53 Beacon Street</b></td><td align='right'><b>Boston, Mass.</b></td></tr> +</table></div> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<p><a name="Frontispiece" id="Frontispiece"></a></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img004.jpg" width="400" height="299" alt="Bud and Ivy" title="Bud and Ivy" /> +<span class="smcap">Bud and Ivy</span> +</div> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT</h1> +<div class='padding'> +<h4>BY</h4> +<h2>ANNIE FELLOWS JOHNSTON</h2> +</div> + +<div class='padding'> +<p class="center">Illustrated by</p> +<h3>MARY G. JOHNSTON</h3> +<p class="center">AND</p> +<h3>AMY M. SACKER</h3> +</div> + +<div class='padding'> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 152px;"> +<img src="images/crest.jpg" width="152" height="187" alt="crest" title="crest" /> +</div> +</div> + +<div class='padding'> +<p class="center">BOSTON<br /> +L. C. PAGE AND COMPANY<br /> +(INCORPORATED)<br /> +Publishers +</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='padding'> +<p class="center"><i>Copyright, 1897</i><br /> +<span class="smcap">By L. C. Page and Company</span><br /> +(INCORPORATED)</p> +</div> +<div class='padding'> +<p class="center">Thirteenth Impression, February, 1907<br /> +Fourteenth Impression, March, 1909<br /> +Fifteenth Impression, August, 1910</p> +</div> +<div class='padding'> +<p class="center"><b>Colonial Press:</b><br /> +Electrotyped and Printed by C.H. Simonds & Co.<br /> +Boston, Mass., U.S.A. +</p> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<div class='padding'> +<p class="center">TO<br /> +TWO TORMENTS WHOM I KNOW</p> +</div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img009.jpg" width="400" height="141" alt="Illustrations" title="Illustrations" /> +</div> + +<p><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a></p> + +<div class='center'> +<table border="0" cellpadding="4" cellspacing="0" summary=""> +<tr><td align='left'></td><td align='right'>PAGE</td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Bud And Ivy</span></td><td align='right'><i><a href="#Frontispiece">Frontispiece</a></i></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">John Jay</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_2">2</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">'Wot we all gwine do now?'</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Mars' Nat</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">A group of pretty girls sat on the porch</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Filled both his hands</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Under the apple-tree</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'><span class="smcap">Uncle Billy</span></td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">The ganders had chased him around</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">George came out and locked the door</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_93">93</a></td></tr> +<tr><td align='left'>"<span class="smcap">Sat alone by the church steps</span>"</td><td align='right'><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td></tr> +</table></div> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img011.jpg" width="400" height="153" alt="Cabin" title="Cabin" /> +</div> + +<h2>OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT.</h2> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I.</h3> + + +<p>Uncle Billy rested his axe on the log he +was chopping, and turned his grizzly old head +to one side, listening intently. A confusion of +sounds came from the little cabin across the +road. It was a dilapidated negro cabin, with +its roof awry and the weather-boarding off in +great patches; still, it was a place of interest +to Uncle Billy. His sister lived there with +three orphan grandchildren.</p> + +<p>Leaning heavily on his axe-handle, he thrust +out his under lip, and rolled his eyes in the +direction of the uproar. A broad grin spread +over his wrinkled black face as he heard the +rapid spank of a shingle, the scolding tones of +an angry voice, and a prolonged howl. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> + +<p>"John Jay an' he gran'mammy 'peah to be +havin' a right sma't difference of opinion togethah +this mawnin'," he chuckled.</p> + +<div class="figleft" style="width: 277px;"> +<img src="images/img012.jpg" width="277" height="269" alt="John Jay" title="John Jay" /> +<span class="smcap">John Jay</span> +</div> +<p>He shaded his eyes with his stiff, crooked +fingers for a better view. A pair of nimble +black legs skipped back and forth across the +open doorway, in a vain attempt to dodge the +descending shingle, +while a clatter of falling +tinware followed old +Mammy's portly figure, +as she made awkward +but surprising turns in +her wrathful circuit of +the crowded room.</p> + +<p>"Ow! I'll be good! +I'll be good! Oh, +Mammy, don't! You'se a-killin' me!" came in +a high shriek.</p> + +<p>Then there was a sudden dash for the cabin +door, and an eight-year-old colored boy scurried +down the path like a little wild rabbit, as fast as +his bare feet could carry him. The noise ended +as suddenly as it had begun; so suddenly, indeed, +that the silence seemed intense, although +the air was full of all the low twitterings and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> +soft spring sounds that come with the early +days of April.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy stood chuckling over the boy's +escape. The situation had been made clear to +him by the angry exclamations he had just overheard. +John Jay, left in charge of the weekly +washing, flapping on the line, had been unfaithful +to his trust. A neighbor's goat had taken +advantage of his absence to chew up a pillowcase +and two aprons.</p> + +<p>Really, the child was not so much to blame. +It was the fault of the fish-pond, sparkling +below the hill. But old Mammy couldn't +understand that. She had never been a boy, +with the water tempting her to come and angle +for its shining minnows; with the budding willows +beckoning her, and the warm winds luring +her on. But Uncle Billy understood, and felt +with a sympathetic tingle in every rheumatic +old joint, that it was a temptation beyond the +strength of any boy living to resist.</p> + +<p>His chuckling suddenly stopped as the old +woman appeared in the doorway. He fell to +chopping again with such vigor that the chips +flew wildly in all directions. He knew from +the way that her broad feet slapped along the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> +beaten path that she was still angry, and he +thought it safest to take no notice of her, beyond +a cheery "Good mawnin', sis' Sheba."</p> + +<p>"Huh! Not much good about it that I can +see!" was her gloomy reply. Lowering the +basket she carried from her head to a fence-post, +she began the story of her grievances. +It was an old story to Uncle Billy, somewhat +on the order of "The house that Jack built;" +for, after telling John Jay's latest pranks, she +always repeated the long line of misdeeds of +which he had been guilty since the first day he +had found a home under her sagging rooftree.</p> + +<p>Usually she found a sympathetic listener in +Uncle Billy, but this morning the only comfort +he offered was an old plantation proverb, spoken +with brotherly frankness.</p> + +<p>"Well, sis' Sheba, I 'low it'll be good for you +in the long run. 'Troubles is seasonin'. 'Simmons +ain't good twel dey er fros'bit,' you know."</p> + +<p>He stole a sidelong glance at her from under +his bushy eyebrows, to see the effect of his +remark. She tossed her head defiantly. "I +'low if the choice was left to the 'simmon or +you eithah, brer Billy, you'd both take the +greenness an' the puckah befo' the fros'bite +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> +every time." Then a tone of complaint trembled +in her voice.</p> + +<p>"I might a needed chastenin' in my youth, +I don't 'spute that; but why should I now, a +trim'lin' on the aidge of the tomb, almos', +have to put up with that limb of a John Jay? +If my poah Ellen knew what a tawment her +boy is to her ole mammy, I know she couldn't +rest easy in her grave."</p> + +<p>"John Jay, he don't mean to be bad," remarked +Uncle Billy soothingly. "It's jus' +'cause he's so young an' onthinkin'. An' aftah +all, it ain't what he <i>does</i>. It's mo' like what +the white folks say in they church up on the +hill. 'I have lef' undone the things what I +ought to 'uv done.'"</p> + +<p>Doubled up out of sight, behind the bushes +that lined the roadside ditch, John Jay held his +breath and listened. When the ringing strokes +of the axe began again, he ventured to poke out +his woolly head until the whites of his eyes +were visible. Sheba was trudging down the +road with her basket on her head, to the place +where she always washed on Tuesdays, she +was far enough on her way now to make it +safe for him to come out of hiding. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span></p> + +<p>The tears had dried on the boy's long curling +lashes, but his bare legs still smarted from the +blows of the shingle, as he climbed slowly out +of the bushes and started back to the cabin.</p> + +<p>"Hey, Bud! Come on, Ivy!" he called +cheerfully. Nobody answered. It was a part +of the programme, whenever John Jay was +punished, for the little brother and sister to +run and hide under the back-door step. There +they cowered, with covered heads, until the danger +was over. Old Sheba had never frowned +on the four-year-old Bud, or baby Ivy, but +they scuttled out of sight like frightened mice +at the first signal of her gathering wrath.</p> + +<p>Ivy lay still with her thumb in her mouth, +but Bud began solemnly crawling out from between +the steps. Everything that Bud did +seemed solemn. Even his smiles were slow-spreading +and dignified. Some people called +him Judge; but John Jay, wise in the negro +lore of their neighborhood Uncle Remus, +called him "Brer Tarrypin" for good reasons +of his own.</p> + +<p>"Wot we all gwine do now?" drawled Bud, +with a turtle-like stretch of his little round head +as he peered through the steps. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img017.jpg" width="400" height="383" alt="'Wot we all gwine do now?'" title="'Wot we all gwine do now?'" /> +<span class="smcap">'Wot we all gwine do now?'</span> +</div> + +<p>John Jay scanned the horizon on all sides, +and thoughtfully rubbed his ear. His quick +eyes saw unlimited possibilities for enjoyment, +where older sight would have found but a dreary +outlook; but older sight is always on a strain +for the birds in the bush. It is never satisfied +with the one in the hand. Older sight would +have seen only a poor shanty set in a patch of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> +weeds and briers, and a narrow path straggling +down to the dust of the public road. But the +outlook was satisfactory to John Jay. So was +it to the neighbor's goat, standing motionless +in the warm sunshine, with its eyes cast in the +direction of a newly-made garden. So was it +to the brood of little yellow goslings, waddling +after their mother. They were out of their +shells, and the world was wide.</p> + +<p>Added to this same feeling of general contentment +with his lot, John Jay had the peace +that came from the certainty that, no matter +what he might do, punishment could not possibly +overtake him before nightfall. His grandmother +was always late coming home on Tuesday.</p> + +<p>"Wot we all gwine do now?" repeated Bud.</p> + +<p>John Jay caught at the low branch of the +apple-tree to which the clothes-line was tied, +and drew himself slowly up. He did not reply +until he had turned himself over the limb several +times, and hung head downward by the knees.</p> + +<p>"Go snake huntin', I reckon."</p> + +<p>"But Mammy said not to take Ivy in the +briah-patch again," said Bud solemnly.</p> + +<p>"That's so," exclaimed John Jay, "an' shingle +say so too," he added, with a grin, for his legs +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span> +still smarted. Loosening the grip of his knees on +the apple-bough, he turned a summersault backward +and landed on his feet as lightly as a cat.</p> + +<p>"Ivy'll go to sleep aftah dinnah," suggested +Bud. "She always do." It seemed a long time +to wait until then, but with the remembrance of +his last punishment still warm in mind and +body, John Jay knew better than to take his +little sister to the forbidden briar-patch.</p> + +<p>"Well, we can dig a lot of fishin' worms," he +decided, "an' put 'em in those tomato cans +undah the ash-hoppah. Then we'll make us a +mud oven an' roast us some duck aigs. Nobody +but me knows where the nest is."</p> + +<p>Bud's eyes shone. The prospect was an inviting +one.</p> + +<p>Most of the morning passed quickly, but the +last half-hour was spent in impatiently waiting +for their dinner. They knew it was spread out +under a newspaper on the rickety old table, but +they had strict orders not to touch it until Aunt +Susan sounded her signal for Uncle Billy. So +they sat watching the house across the road.</p> + +<p>"Now it's time!" cried Bud excitedly. "I +see Aunt Susan goin' around the end of the +house with her spoon." +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span></p> + +<p>An old cross-cut saw hung by one handle +from a peg in the stick chimney. As she beat +upon it now with a long, rusty iron spoon, the +din that filled the surrounding air was worse +than any made by the noisiest gong ever beaten +before a railroad restaurant. Uncle Billy, hoeing +in a distant field, gave an answering whoop, +and waved his old hat.</p> + +<p>The children raced into the house and tore +the newspaper from the table. Under it were +three cold boiled potatoes, a dish of salt, a cup +of molasses, and a big pone of corn-bread. As +head of the family, John Jay divided everything +but the salt exactly into thirds, and wasted no +time in ceremonies before beginning. As soon +as the last crumb was finished he spread an old +quilt in front of the fireplace, where the embers, +though covered deep in ashes, still kept the +hearth warm.</p> + +<p>No coaxing was needed to induce Ivy to lie +down. Even if she had not been tired and +sleepy she would have obeyed. John Jay's +word was law in his grandmother's absence. +Then he sat down on the doorstep and waited +for her to go to sleep.</p> + +<p>"If she wakes up and gets out on the road +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> +while we're gone, won't I catch it, though!" +he exclaimed to Bud in an undertone.</p> + +<p>"Shet the doah," suggested Bud.</p> + +<p>"No, she'd sut'n'ly get into some devilmint +if she was shet in by herself," he answered.</p> + +<p>"How oft the sight of means to do ill deeds +makes ill deeds done!" John Jay's roving eyes +fell on a broken teacup on the window-sill, that +Mammy kept as a catch-all for stray buttons +and bits of twine. He remembered having +seen some rusty tacks among the odds and +ends. A loose brickbat stuck up suggestively +from the sunken hearth. The idea had not +much sooner popped into his head than the +deed was done. Bending over breathlessly to +make sure that the unsuspecting Ivy was +asleep, he nailed her little pink dress to the +floor with a row of rusty tacks. Then cautiously +replacing the bit of broken brick, he +made for the door, upsetting Bud in his hasty +leave-taking.</p> + +<p>Over in the briar-patch, out of sight of the +house, two happy little darkeys played all the +afternoon. They beat the ground with the stout +clubs they carried. They pried up logs in +search of snakes. They whooped, they sang, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> +they whistled. They rolled over and over each +other, giggling as they wrestled, in the sheer +delight of being alive on such a day. When +they finally killed a harmless little chicken-snake, +no prince of the royal blood, hunting +tigers in Indian jungles, could have been +prouder of his striped trophies than they were +of theirs.</p> + +<p>Meanwhile Ivy slept peacefully on, one little +hand sticking to her plump, molasses-smeared +cheek, the other holding fast to her headless +doll. Beside her on the floor lay a tattered +picture-book, a big bottle half full of red +shelled corn, and John Jay's most precious +treasure, a toy watch that could be endlessly +wound up. He had heaped them all beside her, +hoping they would keep her occupied until his +return, in case she should waken earlier than +usual.</p> + +<p>The sun was well on its way to bed when +the little hunters shouldered their clubs, with a +snake dangling from each one, and started for +the cabin.</p> + +<p>"My! I didn't know it was so late!" exclaimed +John Jay ruefully, as they met a long +procession of home-going cows. "Ain't it +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> +funny how soon sundown gets heah when yo' +havin' a good time, and how long it is a-comin' +when yo' isn't!"</p> + +<p>A dusky little figure rose up out of the weeds +ahead of them. "Land sakes! Ivy Hickman!" +exclaimed John Jay, dropping his snake in surprise. +"How did you get heah?"</p> + +<p>Ivy stuck her thumb in her mouth without +answering. He took her by the shoulder, +about to shake a reply from her, when Bud +exclaimed, in a frightened voice, "Law, I see +Mammy comin'. Look! There she is now, in +front of Uncle Billy's house!"</p> + +<p>Throwing away his club, and catching Ivy up +in his short arms, John Jay staggered up the +path leading to the back of the house as fast as +such a heavy load would allow, leaving Brer +Tarrypin far in the rear. Just as he sank +down at the back door, all out of breath, old +Sheba reached the front one.</p> + +<p>"John Jay," she called, "what you doing', +chile?"</p> + +<p>"Heah I is, Mammy," he answered. "I'se +jus' takin' keer o' the chillun!"</p> + +<p>"That's right, honey, I've got somethin' +mighty good in my basket fo' we all's suppah. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> +Hurry up now, an' tote in some kin'lin' +wood."</p> + +<p>Never had John Jay sprung to obey as he did +then. He shivered when he thought of his +narrow escape. His arms were piled so full of +wood that he could scarcely see over them, +when he entered the poorly lighted little +cabin. He stumbled over the bottle of corn +and the picture-book. Maybe he would not +have kicked them aside so gaily had he known +that his precious watch was lying in the cow-path +on the side of the hill where Ivy had +dropped it.</p> + +<p>Mammy was bending over, examining something +at her feet. Five ragged strips of pink +calico lay along the floor, each held fast at one +end by a rusty tack driven into the puncheons. +Ivy had grown tired of her bondage, and had +tugged and twisted until she got away. The +faithful tacks had held fast, but the pink calico, +grown thin with long wear and many washings, +tore in ragged strips. Mammy glanced from +the floor to Ivy's tattered dress, and read the +whole story.</p> + +<p>Outside, across the road, Uncle Billy leaned +over his front gate in the deepening twilight, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> +and peacefully puffed at his corn-cob pipe. As +the smoke curled up he bent his head to listen, +as he had done in the early morning. The day +was ending as it had begun, with the whack of +old Mammy's shingle, and the noise of John +Jay's loud weeping. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II.</h3> + + +<p>It was a warm night in May. The bright +moonlight shone in through the chinks of the +little cabin, and streamed across Ivy's face, +where she lay asleep on Mammy's big feather +bed. Bud was gently snoring in his corner of the +trundle-bed below, but John Jay kicked restlessly +beside him. He could not sleep with the +moonlight in his eyes and the frogs croaking so +mournfully in the pond back of the house. To +begin with, it was too early to go to bed, and in +the second place he wasn't a bit sleepy.</p> + +<p>Mammy sat on a bench just outside of the +door, with her elbows on her knees. She was +crooning a dismal song softly to herself,—something +about</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Mary and Martha in deep distress,<br /></span> +<span class="i0">A-grievin' ovah brer Laz'rus' death."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>It gave him such a creepy sort of feeling that +he stuck his fingers in his ears to shut out the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> +sound. Thus barricaded, he did not hear slow +footsteps shuffling up the path; but presently +the powerful fumes of a rank pipe told of an +approaching visitor. He took his fingers from +his ears and sat up.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy and Aunt Susan had come over +to gossip a while. Mammy groped her way into +the house to drag out the wooden rocker +for her sister-in-law, while Uncle Billy tilted +himself back against the cabin in a straight +splint-bottomed chair. The usual opening remarks +about the state of the family health, the +weather, and the crops were of very little interest +to John Jay; indeed he nearly fell asleep +while Aunt Susan was giving a detailed account +of the way she cured the misery in her side. +However, as soon as they began to discuss +neighborhood happenings, he was all attention.</p> + +<p>The more interested he grew, it seemed to +him, the lower they pitched their voices. Creeping +carefully across the floor, he curled up on +his pillow just inside the doorway, where the +shadows fell heaviest, and where he could enjoy +every word of the conversation, without straining +his ears to listen. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Gawge Chadwick came home yestiddy," +announced Uncle Billy.</p> + +<p>"Sho now!" exclaimed Mammy. "Not lame +Jintsey's boy! You don't mean it!"</p> + +<p>"That's the ve'y one," persisted Uncle Billy. +"Gawge Washington Chadwick. He's a ministah +of the gospel now, home from college with +a Rev'und befo' his name, an' a long-tailed +black coat on. He doesn't look much like the +little pickaninny that b'long to Mars' Nat back +in wah times."</p> + +<p>"And Jintsey's dead, poah thing!" exclaimed +Aunt Susan. "What a day it would have been +for her, if she could have lived to see her boy +in the pulpit!"</p> + +<p>Conversation never kept on a straight road +when these three were together. It was continually +turning back by countless by-paths to +the old slavery days. The rule of their master, +Nat Chadwick, had been an easy one. There +had always been plenty in the smoke-house and +contentment in the quarters. These simple old +souls, while rejoicing in their freedom, often +looked tenderly back to the flesh-pots of their +early Egypt.</p> + +<p>John Jay had heard these reminiscences +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> +dozens of times. He knew just what was +coming next, when Uncle Billy began telling +about the day that young Mars' Nat was +christened. Mis' Alice gave a silver cup to +Jintsey's baby, George Washington, because +he was born on the same day as his little +Mars' Nat. John Jay knew the whole family +history. He was very proud of these people +of gentle birth and breeding, whom Sheba spoke +of as "ou' family." One by one they had been +carried to the little Episcopal churchyard on +the hill, until only one remained. The great +estate had passed into the hands of strangers. +Only to Billy and Susan and Sheba, faithful +even unto death, was it still surrounded by the +halo of its old-time grandeur.</p> + +<p>Naturally, young Nat Chadwick, the last of +the line, had fallen heir to all the love and respect +with which they cherished any who bore +the family name. To other people he was a +luckless sort of fellow, who had sown his wild +oats early, and met disappointment at every +turn. It was passed about, too, that there was +a romance in his life which had changed and +embittered it. Certain it is, he suddenly seemed +to lose all ambition and energy. Instead of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> +making the brilliant lawyer his friends expected, +he had come down at last to be the keeper of +the toll-gate on a country turnpike.</p> + +<p>Lying on his pillow in the dense shadow, +John Jay looked out into the white moonlight, +and listened to the old story told all over +again. But this time there was added the +history of Jintsey's boy, who seemed to have +been born with the ambition hot in his heart +to win an education. He had done it. +There was a quiver of pride in Uncle Billy's +voice as he told how the boy had outstripped +his young master in the long race; but there +was a loyal and tender undercurrent of excuse +for the unfortunate heir running through all +his talk.</p> + +<p>It had taken twenty years of struggle and +work for the little black boy to realize his +hopes. He had grown to be a grave man of +thirty-three before it was accomplished. Now +he had come home from a Northern college with +his diploma and his degree.</p> + +<p>"He have fought a good fight," said Uncle +Billy in conclusion, finishing as usual with a +scriptural quotation. "He have fought a good +fight, and he have finished his co'se, but" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> +—here his voice sank almost to a whisper—"he +have come home to die."</p> + +<p>A chill seemed to creep all over John Jay's +warm little body. He raised his head from the +pillow to listen still more carefully.</p> + +<p>"Yes, they say he got the gallopin' consumption +while he was up Nawth, shovellin' snow an' +such work, an' studyin' nights in a room 'thout +no fiah. He took ole Mars's name an' he have +brought honah upon it, but what good is it +goin' to do him? Tell me that. For when the +leaves go in the autumn time, then Jintsey's +boy must go too."</p> + +<p>"Where's he stayin' at now?" demanded +Mammy sharply, although she drew the corner +of her apron across her eyes.</p> + +<p>"He's down to Mars' Nat's at the toll-gate +cottage. 'Peahs like it's the natch'el place for +him to be. Neithah of 'em's got anybody else, +and it's kind a like old times when they was +chillun, play in' round the big house togethah. +I stopped in to see him yestiddy. The cup +Mis' Alice gave him was a-settin' on the mantel, +an' Mars' Nat was stewin' up some sawt +of cough tonic for him. The white folks up +Nawth must a thought a heap of him. He'd +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> +just got a lettah from one of the college professahs +'quirin' bout his health. Mars' Nat +read out what was on the back of it: 'Rev'und +Gawge W. Chadwick, an' some lettahs on the +end that I kain't remembah. An' he said, +laughin'-like, sezee, 'well, Uncle Billy, you'd +nevah take that as meanin' Jintsey's boy, would +you now? It's a mighty fine soundin' title,' +sezee. Gawge gave a little moanful sawt of +smile, same as to say, well, aftah all, it wasn't +wuth what it cost him. An' it wasn't! No, it +wasn't," repeated Uncle Billy, solemnly shaking +the ashes from his pipe. "What's the good of +a head full of book learnin' with a poah puny +body that kaint tote it around?"</p> + +<p>Somehow, Uncle Billy's solemn declaration, +"he have fought a good fight," associated this +colored preacher, in John Jay's simple little +mind, with soldiers and fierce battles and a +great victory. He lay back on his pillow, wishing +they would go on talking about this man +who had suddenly become such a hero in his +boyish eyes. But their talk gradually drifted to +the details of Mrs. Watson's last illness. He +had heard them so many times that he soon felt +his eyelids slowly closing. Then he dozed for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> +a few minutes, awakening with a start. They +had gotten as far as the funeral now, and were +discussing the sermon. They would soon be +commenting on the way that each member of the +family "took her death." That was so much +more interesting, he thought he would just +close his eyes again for a moment, until they +came to that.</p> + +<p>Their voices murmured on in a pleasing flow; +his head sunk lower on the pillow, and his +breathing was a little louder. Then his hand +dropped down at his side. He was sound asleep +just when Aunt Susan was about to begin one +of her most thrilling ghost stories.</p> + +<p>In the midst of an account of "a ha'nt that +walked the graveyard every thirteenth Friday +in the year," John Jay turned over in his sleep +with a little snort. Aunt Susan nearly jumped +out of her chair, and Uncle Billy dropped his +pipe. There was a moment of frightened +silence till Mammy said, "It must have been +Bud, I reckon. John Jay is allus a-knockin' +him in his sleep an' makin' him holler out. Go +on, sis' Susan."</p> + +<p>The moon had travelled well across the sky +when Mammy's guests said good night. She +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> +lingered outside after they had gone, to look far +down the road, where a single point of light, +shining through the trees, marked the toll-gate. +It would not be so lonely for Mars' Nat, now +that George had come home. She recalled the +laughing face of the little black boy as she had +known it long ago, and tried to call up in her +imagination a picture of the man that Uncle +Billy had described. Visions of the old days +rose before her. As she stood there with her +hands wrapped in her apron, it was not the +moon-flooded night she looked into, but the +warm, living daylight of a golden past.</p> + +<p>At last, with a sigh, she turned to take the +chairs into the house. Lifting the big rocker +high in front of her, she stepped over the threshold +and started to shuffle her way along to the +candle shelf. The chair came down in the +middle of the floor with a sudden bang, as she +caught her foot in John Jay's pillow and +sprawled across him.</p> + +<p>The boy's first waking thought was that there +had been an earthquake and that the cabin had +caved in. He never could rightly remember +the order of events that followed, but he had a +confused memory of a shriek, a scratching of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> +matches, and the glimmer of a candle that made +him sit up and blink his eyes. Then something +struck him, first on one ear, then the other, +cuffing him soundly. He was too dazed to +know why. Some blind instinct helped him to +find the bed and burrow down under the clothes, +where he lay trying to think what possible fault +of his could have raised such a cyclone about +his ears. He was too deep under the bedclothes +to hear Mammy's grumbling remarks +about his "tawmentin' ways" as she rubbed +her skinned elbow with tallow from the candle. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III.</h3> + + +<p>Standing in the back door of Sheba's cabin +one could see the red gables of the old Chadwick +house, rising above the dark pine-trees +that surrounded it. A wealthy city family by +the name of Haven owned it now. It was open +only during the summer months. The roses that +Mistress Alice had set out with her own white +hands years ago climbed all over the front of +the house, twining around its tall pillars, and +hanging down in festoons from its stately eaves. +Cuttings from the same hardy plant had been +trained along the fences, around the tree-trunks +and over trellises, until the place had come to +be known all around the country as "Rosehaven."</p> + +<p>Sheba always had steady employment when +the place was open, for the young ladies of the +family kept her flat-irons busy with their endless +tucks and ruffles. She found a good market, +too, for all the eggs she could induce her buff +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> +cochins to lay, and all the berries that she could +make John Jay pick.</p> + +<p>This bright June morning she stood in the +door with a basket of fresh eggs in her hand, +looking anxiously across the fields to the gables +of Rosehaven, and grumbling to herself.</p> + +<p>"Heah I done promise Miss Hallie these +fresh aigs for her bufday cake, an' no way to +get 'em to her. I'll nevah get all these clothes +done up by night if I stop my i'onin', an' John +Jay's done lit out again! little black rascal!" +She lifted up her voice in another wavering call. +"John Ja-a-y!" The beech woods opposite +threw back the echo of her voice, sweet and +clear,—"Ja-a-y!"</p> + +<p>"Heah I come, Mammy!" cried a panting +voice. "I was jus' turnin' the grine-stone for +Uncle Billy."</p> + +<p>She looked at him suspiciously an instant, +then handed him the basket. "Take these +aigs ovah to Miss Hallie," she ordered, "and +mind you be quickah'n you was last time, or +they might hatch befo' you get there."</p> + +<p>"Law now, Mammy!" said John Jay, with a +grin. He snatched at the basket, impatient to +be off, for while standing before her he had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> +kept scratching his right shoulder with his left +hand; not that there was any need to do so, +but it gave him an excuse for holding together +the jagged edges of a great tear in his new +shirt. He was afraid it might be discovered +before he could get away.</p> + +<p>It was one of John Jay's peculiarities that in +going on an errand he always chose the most +roundabout route. Now, instead of following +the narrow footpath that made a short cut +through the cool beech woods, he went half a +mile out of his way, along the sunny turnpike.</p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img039.jpg" width="400" height="582" alt="Mars' Nat" title="Mars' Nat" /> +<span class="smcap">Mars' Nat</span> +</div> + +<p>Mars' Nat stood outside his kitchen window, +with his hands in his pockets, giving +orders to the colored boy within, who did his +bachelor housekeeping. Usually he had a joking +word for old Sheba's grandson, but this +morning he took no notice of the little fellow +loitering by with such an appealing look on his +face. John Jay had come past the toll-gate +with a hope of seeing the "Rev'und Gawge," as +he called him. It had been three weeks since +the man had come home, and in that time +John Jay's interest in him had grown into a +sort of hero-worship. There had been a great +deal of talk about him among the ignorant colored +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> +people. Wonderful stories were afloat of +his experiences at the North, of his power +as a preacher, and of the plans he had made +to help his people. He would have been +surprised could he have known how he was +discussed, or how the stories grew as they +travelled.</p> + +<p>Those who had any claim whatever to a former +acquaintance stopped at the cottage to see +him. Their interest and the little offerings of +fruit or flowers, which they often made their +excuse for coming, touched him greatly. To +all who came he spoke freely of his hopes. +Realizing that he might have but the one opportunity, +he talked as only a man can talk who +feels the responsibilities of a lifetime crowded +into one short hour. One by one they came +and listened, and went away with a new expression +on their faces, and a new ambition in their +hearts.</p> + +<p>To all these people he was "Brothah Chadwick;" +to the three old slaves bound to him +by ties almost as strong as those of kinship, he +could never be other than Jintsey's boy; but +to two persons he was known as the "Rev'und +Gawge." Mars' Nat took to calling him that +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> +in a joking way, but John Jay gave him the +title almost with awe. It seemed to set him +apart in the child's reverent affection as one +who had come up out of great tribulation to +highest honor. Old Sheba had not cuffed her +grandson to church every week in vain. He +had heard a great deal about white robes and +palms of victory and "him that overcometh." +By some twist of his simple little brain the +term Reverend had come to mean all that to +him, and much more. It meant not only some +one set apart in a priestly way, but some one +who was just slipping down into the mysterious +valley of the shadow, with the shining of the +New Jerusalem upon his face.</p> + +<p>As long as the cottage was in sight John Jay +kept rolling his eyes backward as he trudged +along in the dust; but Mars' Nat was the only +one in view. Twice he stumbled and almost +spilled the eggs. A little farther along he concluded +that he was tired enough to rest a while. +So he sat down on a log in a shady fence corner, +and took a green apple from his pocket. +He rolled it around in his hands and over his +face, enjoying its tempting odor before he stuck +his little white teeth into it. The first bite was +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> +so sour that it drew his face all up into a +pucker and made his eyes water. He raised +his hand to throw it away, but paused with his +arm in the air to listen. Somebody was playing +on the organ in the church a few rods up the +hill.</p> + +<p>It was a quaint little stone church, all overgrown +with ivy, that the Chadwicks had built +generations ago. The high arched door was +never opened of late years, except at long intervals, +when some one came out from the city to +hold services. But the side door was certainly +ajar now, for the saddest music that John Jay +had ever heard in all his life came trembling +out on the warm summer air.</p> + +<p>Forgetting all about his errand, he scrambled +through the fence and up the gently rising +knoll. His bare feet made no noise as he +tiptoed up the steps and stood peering through +the open door. It was dim and cool inside, +with only the light that could sift through +the violet and amber of the stained glass windows; +but in one, the big one at the end, was +the figure of a snowy dove, with outstretched +wings. Through this silvery pane a long slanting +ray of light, dazzling in its white radiance, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> +streamed across the keys of the organ and the +man who played them,—the Reverend George.</p> + +<p>It threw a strange light on the upturned +face,—a face black as ebony, worn with suffering, +but showing in every feature the refining +touch of a noble spirit. His mournful eyes +seemed looking into another world, while his +fingers wandered over the keys with the musical +instinct of his race.</p> + +<p>John Jay slipped inside and crouched down +behind a tall pew. The only music that he +had been accustomed to was the kind that +Uncle Billy scraped from his fiddle and plunked +on his banjo. It was the gay, rollicking kind, +that put his feet to jigging and every muscle +in his body quivering in time. This made him +want to cry; yet it was so sweet and deep +and tender as it went rolling softly down the +aisles, that he forgot all about the eggs and +Miss Hallie. He forgot that he was John Jay. +All he thought of was that upturned face with +the strange unearthly light in its dark eyes, and +the melody that swept over him.</p> + +<p>A spell of coughing seized the rapt musician. +After it had passed, he lay forward on the organ +a while, with his head bowed on his arms. Then +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> +he straightened himself up wearily, and began +pushing the stops back into their places.</p> + +<p>The silence brought John Jay to his senses. +He crawled along the aisle and out of the door, +blinkling like an owl as he came into the blinding +sunshine. Many experiences had convinced +him that he was born under an unlucky star. +When he went leaping down the hill to the log +where he had left his basket, it was with the +sickening certainty that some evil had befallen +the eggs. He was afraid to look for fear of +finding a mass of broken shells strewn over the +ground. It was with a feeling of surprise that +he saw the white ends of the top layer of eggs +peeping out of their bed of bran, just as he had +left them. With a sigh of relief he picked up +the basket; then whistling gaily as a mockingbird, +he set out once more in the direction of +Rosehaven. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV.</h3> + + +<p>Something unusual was going on at Rosehaven. +Awnings were spread over the lawn, +gay colored lanterns were strung all about the +grounds, and a stage for outdoor tableaux had +been built near the house, where a dark clump +of cedars served as a background.</p> + +<p>John Jay had orders to take the eggs directly +to the cook, but his curiosity kept him standing +open-mouthed on the lawn, watching the hanging +of the lanterns.</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img047.jpg" width="400" height="605" alt="A group of pretty Girls sat on the porch" title="A group of pretty Girls sat on the porch" /> +<span class="smcap">A group of pretty Girls sat on the porch</span> +</div> + +<p>A group of pretty girls sat on the porch +steps, between the white rose-twined pillars. +One of them was tying up the cue of an old-fashioned +wig with a black ribbon; another +was mending the gold lace on a velvet coat, +and the others were busy with the various +costumes which they were to wear in the tableaux. +Now and then a gay trill or a snatch +from some popular song floated out above their +laughing chatter. Suddenly one of them looked +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> +up and saw John Jay standing in the gravelled +drive.</p> + +<p>"Look, girls!" she exclaimed. "Here's the +very thing we want for our old Virginia days! +Hallie looks like a picture in that lovely brocaded +satin of her grandmother's, and Raleigh +Stanford does the cavalier to perfection in that +farewell scene. All it lacks is some little Jim +Crow to hold his horse, and there is one now. +Oh, Hallie! come out here a minute!"</p> + +<p>In response to her call, a beautiful dark-haired +girl came out on the porch from the +hall, carrying a pasteboard shield which she +had just finished covering with tinfoil. John +Jay's mouth opened still wider as it flashed a +dazzling light into his eyes. He thought it was +silver.</p> + +<p>"Isn't it fine?" she asked, waltzing around +with it on her arm for them to admire the +effect. Then she dropped down on the step +above them. "Was it you who called me, +Sally Lou?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"Yes," answered the girl, who had finished +tying up the cue, and now had the wig pulled +coquettishly over her blonde curls. "Look at +the little darkey over there. I was just telling +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> +the girls that he is all that is needed to complete +your cavalier tableau. Call him over +here and tell him that he must come to-night." +Just then the boy turned and started on a trot +to the kitchen. "Why, it's John Jay!" exclaimed +Hallie. "Old Lucy has been scolding +about those eggs for the last two hours. His +grandmother promised to send them over immediately +after breakfast. I'll go down and +see what kept him so long. He is always getting +into trouble."</p> + +<p>"Make him come up here," begged Sally +Lou, "and get him to talk for us. I know +he'll be lots of fun, for he has such a bright +face."</p> + +<p>In a few moments the laughing young hostess +was back among her guests, with John Jay following +her. "Don't you want to see all my +birthday presents?" she asked, leading the way +into the library and beckoning the girls to follow. +"See! I found this mandolin in my chair +when I went to the breakfast-table this morning, +and this watch was under my napkin. +This tennis-racquet was on the piano when I +came up-stairs, and I've been finding books and +things all morning." She opened a great box +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> +of chocolate bonbons as she spoke, and filled +both his hands.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;"> +<img src="images/img051.jpg" width="362" height="400" alt="Filled both his hands" title="Filled both his hands" /> +<span class="smcap">Filled both his hands</span> +</div> + +<p>He looked about him with round, astonished +eyes, but never said a word in answer to the +eager questions of the girls, beyond a bashful +"yessa" or "no'm." +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> + +<p>The arrival of Raleigh Stanford and one of +his friends, on their wheels, put an end to the +girls' interest in John Jay. He was dismissed +with a message to Sheba that sent him flying +home through the woods like an excited little +whirlwind. The lid of the basket flopped up +and down, in time to the motion of his scampering +feet. At the foot of the hill he began calling +"Mammy!" and kept it up until he reached +the door. By that time, he was so out of breath +that he could only gasp his message. Sheba +was expected to be at Rosehaven at seven +o'clock, and John Jay was to take part in the +performance on the lawn.</p> + +<p>It took a great deal of cross-questioning before +Mammy fully understood the arrangement. +She could readily see that her services might +be desired in the kitchen, but it puzzled her to +know what anybody could want of John Jay. +She shook her head a great many times before +she finally promised that he might go.</p> + +<p>Bud had passed a very dull morning without +his adventurous brother. Now he came up +with a bit of rope with which to play horse. +But John Jay was looking down on such sports +at present. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Aw, go way, boy," he said, with a lofty air. +"I ain't no hawse. I'se goin' to a buthday-pa'ty +to-night. Miss Hallie done give me an +invite—me an' Mammy."</p> + +<p>"Whose goin' to stay with me an' Ivy?" +asked Bud, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"Aunt Susan, I reckon," answered John Jay. +"Mammy tole me to go ask her. Come along +with me, an' I'll tell you what all Miss Hallie +got for her buthday. I reckon she had mos' a +thousand presents, an' a box of candy half as +big as Ivy."</p> + +<p>Bud opened his eyes in amazement.</p> + +<p>"Deed she did," persisted John Jay, enjoying +the sensation he was making. "She gave me +some, and I saved a piece for you." After much +searching through his pockets, John Jay handed +out a big chocolate cream that had been mashed +flat. Bud ate it gratefully as they walked on, +and wiped his lips with his little red tongue, +longing for more.</p> + +<p>After supper, as Mammy and John Jay went +down the narrow meadow path in Indian file, +he ventured a question that he had pondered +all day. "Mammy, does we all have buthdays +same as white folks?" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Of co'se," answered the old woman, tramping +on ahead with her skirts held high out of +the dewy grass.</p> + +<p>"When's yoah's?" he asked, after a pause.</p> + +<p>"Well," she began reflectively, not willing +to acknowledge that she had never known the +exact date, "I'm nevah ve'y p'tick'lah 'bout its +obsa'vation. It's on a Monday, long in early +garden-makin' time."</p> + +<p>They had come to a little brook, bridged by a +wide, hewed log. When they had crossed in +careful silence, John Jay began again. "Mammy, +when's my buthday?"</p> + +<p>"I kaint tell 'zactly, honey," she answered, +"'twel I adds it up." As she began counting on +her fingers, her skirts slipped lower and lower +from her grasp, until they brushed the dew of +the wayside weeds.</p> + +<p>"Yes, that's it," she announced at last. +"Miss Hallie is nineteen this Satiddy, and you'll +be nine next Satiddy. A week from to-day is +yoah buthday. Pity it hadn't a-happened to be +the same day, then maybe Mis' Haven mought +a give you somethin' like Mis' Alice give Jintsey's +boy."</p> + +<p>John Jay had that same thought all the rest +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> +of the way to Rosehaven, but after they entered +the brilliantly illuminated grounds he seemed to +stop thinking altogether. It was a sight beyond +all that his wildest imaginings had pictured. +He did not recognize the place. All the lanterns +were lighted now, hanging like strings of +stars around the porches, and from tree to tree. +Violins played softly, somewhere out of sight, +and everywhere on the night air was the breath +of myriads of roses. Handsomely dressed +people passed in and out of the house, and across +the lawn. The light, the music, and the perfume +made the place seem enchanted ground to the +bewildered little John Jay, and when he reached +the illuminated fountain just in front of the +house, he clung to Mammy's skirts as if he had +suddenly found himself in some strange Eden, +and was frightened by its unearthly beauty.</p> + +<p>The fountain into which, only that morning, +he had thrust his hot little face for a drink, now +seemed bewitched. It was no longer a flow of +sparkling water, but of splashing rainbows. +From palest green to ruby red, from amethyst +to amber it paled and deepened and glowed.</p> + +<p>All the evening he moved about like one in a +dream. The tableaux with their shifting scenes +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> +of knights and ladies and marble statuary were +burned on his memory as heavenly visions. He +knew nothing of the tinsel and flour and red +lights which produced the effect. He stood +about as Miss Hallie told him: he held a horse +in one tableau, and posed as a bronze statue in +another. Then he went back to the fountain, +and sat dreamily watching it, while the violins +played again,—in the long parlors this time, +where the dancing had begun.</p> + +<p>Raleigh Stanford, still in his cavalier costume, +and with Miss Sally Lou on his arm, +spied him as they passed by. "Oh, there's that +funny little fellow that was here this morning!" +she said. "We tried to make him talk, but he +just kept his head on one side, and was too embarrassed +to say anything."</p> + +<p>"Hey, Sambo," called the young man suddenly +in his ear. "What do you know?"</p> + +<p>John Jay gave a start, and looked up at the +amused faces above him. He took the question +seriously, and thought he must really tell what +he knew; but just at that moment he could +remember only one thing in all the wide world. +Every other bit of information seemed to desert +him. So he stammered, "I—I know M—Miss +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> +Hallie, she's nineteen this Satiddy, an' I'll be +nine next Satiddy."</p> + +<p>Miss Sally Lou laughed so gaily that her +young cavalier made another effort to please +her.</p> + +<p>"Is that so!" he exclaimed, as if surprised. +"It's a mighty lucky thing you told me that, +now, or I never would have thought to bring +you anything. You didn't know that I am a +sort of birthday Santa Claus, did you? Just +look out for me next Saturday. If I'm not +there by breakfast-time, wait till noon, and if I +don't get there by that time it'll be because +something has happened; anyway, somebody'll +be prancing along about sundown."</p> + +<p>"Oh, come along, Raleigh," said Miss Sally +Lou, moving off toward the house. "You're +such a tease."</p> + +<p>John Jay, sitting beside that wonderful fountain +and surrounded by so many strange, beautiful +things, did not think it at all queer that +such an unheard-of person as a birthday Santa +Claus should suddenly step out from the midst +of the enchantment and speak to him.</p> + +<p>"A blue velvet cape on," he said to himself, +thinking how he should describe him to Bud. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> +"An' gole buckles on his shoes, an' a sword on, +an' a long white feathah in his hat. Cricky! +An' it was his hawse I done held! Maybe it +will be somethin' mighty fine what he's goin' to +bring me, 'cause I did that!"</p> + +<p>Later he found his way to the kitchen, where +Sheba was washing dishes. The cook gave him +a plate of ice-cream and some scraps of cake. +She was telling Sheba how beautiful Miss +Hallie's birthday cake looked at dinner, with +its nineteen little wax candles all aflame. That +was the last thing John Jay remembered, until +some one shook him, and told him it was time to +go home. He had fallen asleep with a spoon +in his hand.</p> + +<p>Mammy was afraid to take the short cut +through the woods after dark, so she led him +away round by the toll-gate. He was so sleepy +that he staggered up against her every few +steps, and he would have dropped down on +the first log he came to, if she had not kept +tight hold of his hand all the way.</p> + +<p>When they reached Uncle Billy's house, he +had just gone out to draw a pitcher of water. +Mammy stopped to get a drink, and John Jay +leaned up against the well-shed. The rumbling +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> +of the windlass and the fall of the bucket against +the water below aroused him somewhat, and by +the time he had swallowed half a gourdful of +the cold well-water he was wide awake.</p> + +<p>Uncle Billy went up to the cabin with them +in order to hear an account of the party, and to +walk back with Aunt Susan. John Jay fell behind. +He could not remember ever having been +out so late at night before, and he had never seen +the sky so full of stars. They made him think of +something that Aunt Susan had told him. She +said that if he counted seven stars for seven +nights, at the same time repeating a charm which +she taught him, and making a wish, he'd certainly +get what he wanted at the end of the week.</p> + +<p>Now he stopped still in the path, and slowly +pointing to each star with his little black forefinger, +as he counted them, solemnly repeated +the charm:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Star-light, star bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Seventh star I've seen to-night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> I wish I may and I wish I might<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Have the wish come true I wish to-night."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>"Come on in, chile! What you gawkin' at?" +called Mammy from the doorway. John Jay +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> +made no answer. It would have broken the +charm to have spoken again before going to +sleep. He hurried into the house, glad that +Mammy was so occupied with her company +that she could pay no attention to him. She +stood in the door with them so long that John +Jay was in bed by the time she came in. Although +he pretended to be asleep, inwardly he +was in a quiver of excitement.</p> + +<p>"I'll count 'em every night," he thought. +The wish that burned in his little heart was +a very earnest one, fraught with hopes for his +coming birthday. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V.</h3> + + +<p>Late hours did not agree with John Jay. +Next morning he felt too tired to stir. He +groaned when he remembered that it was Sunday, +for he thought of the long, hot walk down +to Brier Crook church. To his great surprise, +Mammy did not insist on his going with her: +she had been offered a seat in a neighbor's +spring-wagon, and there was no room for him.</p> + +<p>So he spent a long, lazy morning, stretched +out in the shade of the apple-tree. A smell +of clover and ripening orchards filled the heated +air. The hens clucked around drowsily with +drooping wings. A warm breeze stirred the +grasses where he lay.</p> + +<p>Ivy dug in the dirt with a broken spoon, +while Bud kicked up his heels beside John Jay, +listening to a marvellous account of Miss Hallie's +party. It lost nothing in the telling. For years +after, John Jay looked back upon that night as a +John of Patmos might have looked, remembering +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> +some vision of the opened heavens. The +lights, the music, the white-robed figures, and +above all, that wonderful fountain looking as if +it must have sprung from some "sea of glass +mingled with fire," did not belong to the earth +with which he was acquainted. He repeated +some part of that recollection to Bud every +day for a week, always ending with the sentence +uppermost in his thought: "And next +Satiddy <i>I</i> has a buthday."</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img062.jpg" width="400" height="216" alt="Under the apple-tree" title="Under the apple-tree" /> +<span class="smcap">Under the apple-tree</span> +</div> + +<p>Of course he knew that his celebration could +be nothing like Miss Hallie's; but he had a +vague idea that something would happen to +make the day unusual and delightful. Every +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> +night after he had gone to bed, and when +Mammy was drowsing on the doorstep, he +raised himself to his knees, and looked through +a wide hole in the wall where the chinking had +dropped out from between the logs. Through +this he could see a strip of sky studded with +twinkling stars. One by one he pointed out +the magic seven, repeating the charm and whispering +the wish.</p> + +<p>It was a long week, because he was in such +a hurry for it to go by. But Friday night came +at last; and, as he counted the stars for the +seventh time, the little flutter of excitement in +his veins made them seem to dance before his +eyes.</p> + +<p>Early Saturday morning he was awakened +by Mammy's stirring around outside among the +chickens, and instantly he remembered that +the long-looked-for day had come. Somehow, +a feeling of expectancy made it seem different +from other days. He wanted it to last just as +long as possible, so he lay there thinking about +it, and wondering what would happen first.</p> + +<p>As soon as he was dressed, Mammy sent him +to the spring for water. He was gone some +time, for he had a faint hope that the birthday +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> +Santa Claus whom he had met at Miss Hallie's +party might come early, and he spent several +minutes looking down the road.</p> + +<p>Breakfast was ready when he reached the +house, and he set the pail down in such a hurry +that some of the water slopped out on his +bare toes. His wistful eyes scanned the table +quickly. There was a better breakfast than +usual—bacon and eggs this morning. There +was no napkin on the table under which some +gift might lie in hiding, but remembering Miss +Hallie's other experiences, he pulled out his +chair. A little shade of disappointment crept +into his face when he found it empty.</p> + +<p>After he had speared a piece of bacon with +his two-tined fork, and landed it safely on his +plate, he rolled his eyes around the table. +"Did you know this is my buthday, Mammy?" +he asked. "I'm nine yeahs ole to-day."</p> + +<p>"That's so, honey," she answered, cheerfully. +"You'se gettin' to be a big boy now, plenty +big enough to keep out o' mischief an' take +keer o' yo' clothes. I'll declare if there isn't +anothah hole in yo' shirt this blessed minute!"</p> + +<p>The lecture that followed was not of the +gala-day kind, but John Jay consoled himself +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> +by thinking that he would probably have had a +cuffing instead had it happened on any other day.</p> + +<p>After breakfast Mammy went away to do a +day's scrubbing at Rosehaven. The children +spent most of the morning in watching the road. +Every cloud of dust that tokened an approaching +traveller raised a new hope. Many people +went by on horses or in carriages. Once in a +while there was a stray bicycler, but nobody +turned in towards the cabin.</p> + +<p>After a while, in virtue of its being his especial +holiday, John Jay ordered the smaller children +to stay in the yard, while he took a swim +in the pond. But the pleasure did not last +long. He could only splash and paddle around +dog-fashion, and the sun burnt his back so badly +that he was glad to get out of the water.</p> + +<p>Afternoon came, and nothing unusual had +happened, but John Jay kept up his courage +and looked around for something to do to +occupy the time. A wide plank leaned up +against the little shed at one side of the cabin. +It made him think of Uncle Billy's cellar door, +where he had spent many a happy hour sliding.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to have a coast," he said to Bud. +A smooth board which he found near the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span> +woodpile furnished him with a fine toboggan. By +the help of an overturned chicken-coop, which +he dragged across the yard, he managed to +climb to the top of the shed. Squatting down +on the board, he gave himself a starting push +with one hand. The downward progress was +not so smooth or so rapid as he desired.</p> + +<p>"Needs greasin'," he said, looking at the +plank with a knowing frown. A rummage +through the old corner cupboard where the +provisions were kept provided him with a wide +strip of bacon rind, such as Uncle Billy used +to rub on his saw. John Jay carried it out of +doors and carefully rubbed the plank from one +end to the other. Then he greased the underside +of the little board on which he intended to +sit. The result was all he could wish. He +slid down the plank at a speed that took +his breath. Up he climbed from the coop to +the shed, carrying his board with him, and +down he slid to the ground, time and again, +yelling and laughing as he went, until Bud +began to be anxious for his turn. When the +little fellow was boosted to the shed, he did not +make a noise as John Jay had done; he slid in +solemn silence and unspoken delight. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> + +<p>Over an hour of such sport had gone by +when Bud remarked, "Ivy's a-missin' all the +fun."</p> + +<p>"She's too little to go down by herself," +answered John Jay; "but if I had another +little board I'd take her down in front of me."</p> + +<p>He began looking around the wood-pile for +one. Then he caught sight of the big dish-pan, +which had been set outside on the logs to sun.</p> + +<p>"That's the ve'y thing!" he exclaimed. +"It'll jus' hole her." The bacon rind was +nearly rubbed dry by this time, but the pan, +heated by sitting so long in the sun, drew out +all the grease that remained. It took the +united strength of both boys to get Ivy to the +top of the shed, but at last she was seated, with +John Jay just behind her on his little board, +his legs thrown protectingly around the pan. +They shot down so fast that Ivy was terrified. +No sooner was she dumped out of the pan on +to the ground than she retired to a safe distance, +and stuck her thumb in her mouth. +Nothing could induce her to get in again.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' down in the dish-pan by myself," +announced Bud from the shed roof. "It jus' +fits me." +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span></p> + +<p>John Jay grinned, and stood a little to one +side to watch the performance. "Go it, Brer +Tarrypin!" he shouted.</p> + +<p>Maybe Bud leaned a little too much to one +side. Maybe the pan missed the guiding legs +that had held it steady before. At any rate something +was amiss, for half-way down the plank +it spun dizzily around to one side, and spilled +the luckless Bud out on the chicken-coop. +Usually he made very little fuss when he was +hurt, but this time he set up such a roar that +John Jay was frightened. When he saw blood +trickling out of the child's mouth, he began to +cry himself. He was just about to run for +Aunt Susan, when Bud suddenly stopped crying, +and turned toward him with a look of +terror.</p> + +<p>"Aw, I done knock a tooth out!" he exclaimed, +and began crying harder than before, +feeling that he had been damaged beyond +repair.</p> + +<p>John Jay laughed when he found that nothing +worse had happened than the loss of a +little white front tooth, and soon dried Bud's +tears by promising that a new one would certainly +fill the hole in time. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Keep yoah mouf shet much as you can +when Mammy comes home to-night," he cautioned; +"for I sut'n'ly don't want to ketch a +lickin' on my buthday. It's mighty lucky the +pan didn't get a hole knocked in her."</p> + +<p>Mammy came home just before dark. The +children were on the fence waiting for her. +John Jay felt sure that if Miss Hallie knew +that it was his birthday she would send him +something. He wondered if Mammy had told +her. The basket on the old woman's head was +always interesting to these children, for it never +came back from Rosehaven empty. The cook +always saved the scraps for Sheba's hungry +little charges. This evening John Jay kept his +eyes fixed on it expectantly, as he followed it +up the walk. He had thrown one foot up +behind him, and rested the toes of it in his +clasped hands as he hopped along on the other. +Maybe there might be a birthday cake in that +basket, with little candles on it. He didn't +know, of course,—but—<i>maybe</i>.</p> + +<p>They all crowded around, as Sheba put the +basket on the table and took out some scraps +of boiled ham, a handful of cookies, and half of +an apple pie. That was all. John Jay looked +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> +at them a moment with misty eyes, and turned +away with a lump in his throat. He was beginning +to grow discouraged.</p> + +<p>Mammy was so tired that she did not cook +anything for supper, as she had intended, but +set out the contents of the basket beside the +corn bread left from dinner. Before they were +through eating somebody called for sis' Sheba +to come quick, that Aunt Susan was having +one of her old spells.</p> + +<p>"Like enough I won't get back for a good +while," said Mammy, as she hurriedly left the +table. "Put Ivy to bed as soon as you wash +her face, John Jay, an' go yo'self when the +propah time comes. Be a good boy now, and +don't forget to close the doah tight when you +go in."</p> + +<p>When Ivy was safely tucked away among +the pillows, the two boys sat down on the +door-step to wait once more for the birthday +Santa Claus. John Jay repeated what the +thoughtless fellow had said:</p> + +<p>"If I don't get there by noon, it'll be +because something has happened; anyway, +somebody'll be prancing along about sundown." +In the week just passed, Bud had +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> +come to believe in the birthday Santa Claus +as firmly as John Jay.</p> + +<p>"Wondah wot he's doin' now?" he said, +after a long pause and an anxious glance +down the darkening road.</p> + +<p>Ah, well for those two trusting little hearts +that they could not know! He was sitting +on the steps of the porch at Rosehaven with +a guitar on his knee, and smiling tenderly into +Sally Lou's blue eyes as he sang, "Oh, yes, I +ever will be true!"</p> + +<p>It grew darker and darker. The katydids +began their endless quarrel in the trees. A +night-owl hooted dismally over in the woods. +The children stopped talking, and sat in anxious +silence. Presently Bud edged up closer, and +put a sympathetic arm around his brother. A +moment after, he began to cry.</p> + +<p>"What you snufflin' for?" asked John Jay +savagely. "'Tain't yo' buthday."</p> + +<p>"But I'm afraid you ain't goin' to have +any eithah," sobbed the little fellow, strangely +wrought upon by this long silent waiting in +the darkness.</p> + +<p>"Aw, you go 'long to bed," said John Jay, +with a careless, grown-up air. "If anything +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> +comes I'll wake you up. No use for two of +us to be settin' heah."</p> + +<p>Bud was sleepy, and crept away obediently; +but the day was spoiled, and he went to bed +sore with his brother's disappointment.</p> + +<p>John Jay sat down again to keep his lonely +tryst. He looked up at the faithless stars. +They had failed to help him, but in his desperation +he determined to appeal to them once +more. So he picked out the seven largest +ones he could see and repeated very slowly, +in a voice that would tremble, the old charm:</p> + +<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> +<span class="i0">"Star-light, star bright,<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Seventh star I've seen to-night;<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> I wish I may and I wish I might<br /></span> +<span class="i0"> Have the wish come true I wish to-night."<br /></span> +</div></div> + +<p>Then he made his wish again, with a heart felt +earnestness that was almost an ache. Oh, +surely the day was not going to end in this +cruel silence! Just then he heard the thud +of a horse's hoofs on the wooden bridge, far +down the road. Nearer and louder it came. +Somebody was prancing by at last. He stood +up, straining his eyes in his smiling eagerness +to see. Nearer and nearer the hoof-beats +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> +came in the starlight. "<i>Bookity book! Bookity +book!</i>" The horseman paused a moment in +front of Uncle Billy's.</p> + +<p>John Jay hopped from one foot to the other +in his impatient gladness. Then his heart +sank as the hoof-beats went on down the road, +<i>Bookity book! Bookity book!</i> growing fainter +and fainter, until at last they were drowned +by the voices of the noisy katydids.</p> + +<p>He stood still a moment, so bitterly disappointed +that it seemed to him he could not +possibly bear it. Then he went in and shut +the door,—shut the door on all his bright +hopes, on all his fond dreams, on the day that +was to have held such happiness, but that had +brought instead the cruelest disappointment +of his life.</p> + +<p>The tears ran down his little black face as +he undressed himself. He sat on the edge +of the trundle-bed a moment, whispering brokenly, +"They wasn't anybody livin' that cared +'bout it's bein' my buthday!" Then throwing +himself face downward on his pillow, he cried +softly with long choking sobs, until he fell +asleep. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI.</h3> + + +<p>Although John Jay bore many a deep scar, +both in mind and body, very little of his life +had been given to sackcloth and ashes.</p> + +<p>"Wish I could take trouble as easy as that +boy," sighed Mammy. "It slides right off'n +him like watah off a duck's back."</p> + +<p>"He's like the rollin' stone that gethah's no +moss," remarked Uncle Billy. "He goes rollickin' +through the days, from sunup 'twel sundown, +so fast that disappointment and sorrow +get rubbed off befo' they kin strike root."</p> + +<p>Despite all his troubles, if John Jay had +been marking his good times with white stones, +there would have been enough to build a wall all +around the little cabin by the end of the summer. +There were two days especially that he remembered +with deepest satisfaction: one was the +Saturday when Mars' Nat took him to the circus, +and the other was the Fourth of July, when all +the family went to the Oak Grove barbecue. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;"> +<img src="images/img075.jpg" width="314" height="400" alt="Uncle Billy" title="Uncle Billy" /> +<span class="smcap">Uncle Billy</span> +</div> + +<p>But now blackberry season had begun,—a +season that he hated, because Mammy expected +him to help her early and late in the patch. +So many of the shining berries slipped down +his throat, so many things called his attention +away from the brambly bushes, that sometimes +it took hours for him to fill his battered quart +cup.</p> + +<p>Usually his reward was a juicy pie, but this +year Mammy changed her plan. Berries were +in demand at Rosehaven, and she had very +little time to spend in going after them.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you five cents a gallon for all you'll +pick," she said to John Jay. He looked at her +in amazement. As he had never had any money +in his life, this seemed a princely offer. He +was standing outside by the stick chimney when +she made the promise. After one sidelong +glance, to see if she were in earnest, he threw +his feet wildly into the air and walked off on +his hands; then, after two or three somersaults +backward, he stood up, panting.</p> + +<p>"Where's the buckets at?" he demanded, +"I'm goin' to pick every bush in this neck o' +woods as clean as you'd pick a chicken."</p> + +<p>Now it was Mammy's turn to be surprised. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> +She had expected that her offer would lure him +on for an hour or two, maybe for a whole day. +She had not supposed that it would keep him +faithfully at work for a week, but it did. His +nimble fingers stripped every roadside vine +within a mile of the cabin. His hands and +legs, and even his face, were criss-crossed with +many brier scratches. The sun beat down on +him unmercifully, but he stuck to his task so +closely that he seemed to see berries even when +his eyes were shut. Every day great pailfuls +of the shining black beads were sent over to +Rosehaven, and every night he dropped a few +more nickels into the stocking foot hidden +under his pillow.</p> + +<p>"Berries is all mighty nigh cleaned out," he +said one noon, when he was about to start out +again after dinner. "Uncle Billy says there's +lots of 'em down in the gandah thicket, but I'se +mos' afeered to go there."</p> + +<p>"Nothin' won't tech you in daylight, honey," +answered Mammy, encouragingly, "but I would +n't go through there at night for love or money +I'd as lief go into a lion's cage."</p> + +<p>"Did you ever see any ghos'es down there +Mammy?" asked John Jay with eager interest, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> +yet cautiously lowering his voice and taking a +step nearer.</p> + +<p>"No," admitted Mammy, "but oldah people +than I have seen 'em. All night long there's +great white gandahs flappin' round through +that thicket 'thout any heads on. You know +they's an awful wicked man buried down there +in the woods, an' the sperrits of them he's +inju'ed ha'nts the thicket every night. There +isn't anybody, that I know of, that 'ud go down +there aftah dark for anything on this livin' +yearth."</p> + +<p>"Then who sees 'em?" asked John Jay, with +a skeptical grin.</p> + +<p>"Who sees 'em?" repeated Mammy wrathfully, +angry because of the doubt implied by +his question and his face. "Who sees 'em? +They've been seen by generations of them as +is dead and gone. Who is you, I'd like to +know, standin' up there a-mockin' at me so +impident and a-askin' 'Who sees 'em?'"</p> + +<p>She turned to begin her dish washing, with a +scornful air that seemed to say that he was +beneath any further notice. Still, no sooner +had she piled the dishes up in the pan than she +turned to him again, with her hands on her hips. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Go down and ask Uncle Mose," she said, +still indignant. "He can tell you tales that'll +send cole chills up an' down yo' spine. He saw +an awful thing in there once with his own eyes. +'Twan't a gandah, but somethin' long an slim +flyin' low in the bushes—he reckoned it was +twenty feet long. It had a little thin head like +a snake, an' yeahs that stuck up like rabbit's. +It was all white, an' had fo' little short legs an' +two little short wings, an' it was moah'n flesh +an' blood could stand, he say, to see that long, +slim, white thing runnin' an' a-flyin' at the same +time through the bushes, low down neah the +groun'. You jus' go ask him."</p> + +<p>John Jay swung his buckets irresolutely. +"I don't believe I'll go down there aftah berries," +he said. "I don't know what to do. +They isn't any moah anywhere else."</p> + +<p>Mammy wished that she had not gone to +such pains to convince him. "Nothin' evah +comes around in the daytime," she insisted, +"an' I reckon berries is mighty plentiful, too," +she added, persuasively. "Nobody evah saw +anything down there in the daylight, honey. +I'd go if I was you."</p> + +<p>John Jay stood on one foot. He was afraid +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> +of the headless ganders, but he did want those +berries. He walked out through the door, hesitated, +and stood on one foot again. Then he +went slowly down the hill. Mammy, standing +in the door with her apron flung over her head, +watched him climb up on the fence and sit +there to consider. Finally, he dropped down to +the other side, and started in the direction of +the gander thicket.</p> + +<p>It was a place that the negroes had been +afraid of since her earliest recollection. It was +only a little stretch of woodland, where the +neglected underbrush had grown into a tangled +thicket. No one remembered now what had +given rise to the name, and no one living had +ever seen the ghostly white ganders that were +said to haunt the place at night. Still, the +story was handed down from one to another, +and the place was shunned as much as possible.</p> + +<p>Brier Crook church stood at one end, with +its desolate little graveyard, where the colored +people buried their dead under its weeping +willows and gloomy cedars.</p> + +<p>John Jay avoided the lonely road that led in +that direction, and took the one that wound +around the other end of the thicket, past a deserted +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> +mill. Yet, when he reached the ruined +old building, with its staring windows and +sunken roof, he was half sorry that he had not +gone the other way.</p> + +<p>The berries were on the far side of the +thicket, and he was obliged to pass either +the graveyard or the old mill to reach them. +The possibility of plunging boldly into the +thicket and pushing his way through to the +other side had never occurred to him, although +it is doubtful if he would have dared to do so +even had he thought of it. He ran down the +dry bed of the stream, and past the silent moss-grown +wheel, breathing a sigh of relief when he +came out into an open field beyond.</p> + +<p>Balancing himself on the top rail of the +fence, he looked cautiously along the edge of +the thicket. It did not look so dismal in there, +after all. A woodpecker's cheerful tapping +sounded somewhere within. Butterflies flitted +fearlessly down into its shady ravines. A +squirrel ran out on a limb, and sat chattering +at him saucily. Then a big gray rabbit rustled +through the leaves, and went loping away into +the depths of the thicket.</p> + +<p>"I don't believe there's anything skeery in +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> +there at all!" exclaimed John Jay aloud. After +starting several times, and stopping to look all +around and listen, he followed the rabbit into +the bushes. Plunging down a narrow cow-path +which wound in and out, he came to an +open space where a few trees had fallen. Here, +with an exclamation of delight, he pounced upon +the finest, largest berries he had ever seen. +They dropped into the tin pail with a noisy +thud at first, and then with scarcely a sound, as +they rapidly piled higher and higher.</p> + +<p>Both pails were filled in a much shorter time +than usual, and then he sat down on a wide log +to enjoy the lunch he had brought with him. +There were two big slices of bread and jam in +one pocket, and a big apple in the other. As +he sat there, slowly munching, he began to +feel drowsy. He had awakened early that +morning, and had worked hard in the hot sun. +He stretched himself out full length on the +log, to rest his back while he finished eating +his apple.</p> + +<p>The branches overhead swayed gently back +and forth. His eyes followed them as they +kept up that slow, monotonous motion against +the bright sky. He had no intention of +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> +closing them; in fact, he did not know they +were closed, for in that same moment he was +sound asleep.</p> + +<p>The woodpecker went on tapping; the squirrel +whisked back and forth along the limb; the +same gray rabbit came out and hopped along +beside the log where he lay. Suddenly, it +raised itself up to look at the strange sight, +and then bounded away again. The sun +dropped lower and lower. In the open fields +there was still light, but the thicket was gray +with the subdued shadows of the gloaming.</p> + +<p>John Jay might have slept on all night had +not a leaf fluttered slowly down from the tree +above, and brushed across his face. He opened +his eyes, looking all around him in a bewildered +way. Then he sat up, and peered through the +bushes. A cold perspiration covered him when +he realized that it was dusk and that he was in +the middle of the gander thicket. He snatched +up the blackberries, a pail in each hand, and +stood looking helplessly around him, for he +could not decide which way to go. In front +of him stretched half a mile of the haunted +thicket. It was either to push his way through +that as quickly as possible, or to go back by +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> +the long, lonesome road over which he had +come.</p> + +<p>Just then a harmless flock of geese belonging +to an old market-gardener who lived near +came waddling up from the creek, on the way +home to their barn-yard. They moved along +in a silent procession, pushing their long, thin +necks through the underbrush. John Jay was +too terrified to see that their heads were properly +in place, and that they were as harmless as +the flock that fed in Aunt Susan's dooryard.</p> + +<p>"They'll get me! They'll get me!" he +whimpered, as they came nearer and nearer, +for his feet seemed so heavy that he could +not lift them when he tried to run. Made +desperate by his fear, he raised first one pail +of berries and then the other, hurling them at +the startled geese with all the force his wiry +little arms could muster.</p> + +<p>Instantly their long white wings shot up +through the bushes. There was an angry +fluttering and hissing, as half running, half +flying, they waddled faster towards home. John +Jay did not look to see what direction they were +taking. He was sure they were after him. +He could hear their long wings flapping just +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> +behind him; at least, he thought he could, but +the noise he heard was the snapping of the +twigs he trampled in his headlong flight. No +greyhound ever bounded through a wood with +lighter feet than those which carried him. His +eyes were wide with fright. His heart beat so +hard in his throat he thought he would surely +die before he could reach the cabin. At every +step the light seemed to be growing dimmer +and the thicket denser, although he thought +he certainly must have been running long +enough to have reached the clearing. Still +he ran on, and on, and on. The recollection +of one of Mammy's stories flashed across his +mind.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img086.jpg" width="400" height="185" alt="The ganders had chased him around" title="The ganders had chased him around" /> +<span class="smcap">The ganders had chased him around</span> +</div> + +<p>Once a man had lost his way in this wood, +and the ganders had chased him around and +around until daylight. The thought made him +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> +so weak in the knees that he was ready to drop +from fright and exhaustion. Then he recalled +a superstition that he had often heard, that anyone +who has lost his way may find it again by +turning his pocket wrong side out. He was +twitching at his with trembling hands, looking +with eyes too frightened to see, and fumbling +with fingers too stiff with fear to feel, +but the pocket seemed to have disappeared. +"It's conju'ed too," he wailed, as he ran heedlessly +on.</p> + +<p>Something long and white slapped across his +face. An unearthly, wavering voice sounded a +hoarse, long-drawn "Moo-oo-oo!" just in front +of him. He sank down in a helpless little heap, +blubbering and groaning aloud, with his teeth +chattering, and the tears running down his +clammy face. There was a louder crackling, +and out of the bushes walked an old spotted +cow, calmly switching her white tail and looking +at John Jay in gentle-eyed wonder.</p> + +<p>Strength came back to the boy with that +familiar sight, but not being sure that the cow +was not as ghostly as the ganders, he scrambled +to his feet and started to run again. To +avoid passing the cow, he turned in another +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> +direction. This time, it happened to be the +right one, and in a few moments more he had +dashed into the open. Then he saw that it was +not yet dark in the fields.</p> + +<p>Mammy heard the sound of rapid running +up the path, and came to the door. John +Jay dropped at her feet, trembling and cold, and +so frightened that he could only cling to her +skirts, sobbing piteously. When, at last, he +found his breath, all he could gasp was, "Oh, +Mammy! the gandahs are aftah me! the gandahs +are aftah me!"</p> + +<p>Big boy as he was, Mammy stooped and +lifted him in her arms, and holding him close, +with his head on her shoulder, rocked back and +forth in the big wooden chair until he grew +calmer. Not until he had sobbed out the whole +story, and wiped his eyes several times on her +apron, did he see that there was company in the +room.</p> + +<p>George Chadwick was sitting by the door. +It was the first time he had been in the cabin +since his return from college. He had ridden +up from the toll-gate on a passing wagon to +see his old friend, Sheba, and had been there +the greater part of the afternoon, listening to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> +her tales of his mother in the old slavery days. +He had not intended to accept her urgent invitation +to stay to supper, but when he saw that she +shared John Jay's fright, he decided to remain. +Had it not been for his protecting presence in +the house, Mammy was so affected by the boy's +story that she would have barred every opening. +Then, cowering around one little flickering +candle, they would have fed each other's +superstitious fears until bedtime. George knew +this, and so he stayed to reassure them by his +matter-of-fact explanations, and his cheerful +common sense. While he could not convince +them that they had been needlessly alarmed, he +drew their attention to other things, by stories +of college life and experiences at the North, +while Sheba bustled about, bringing out the +best of her meagre store to do him honor.</p> + +<p>Ivy, scrubbed until she shone, and in a stiffly +starched apron, sat on his knee and sucked her +thumb. Bud squatted at his feet in silence, +sticking his little red tongue in and out of the +hole where the lost tooth had been. As for +John Jay, his hero-worship passed that night +into warmest love. From that time on, he +would have gone through fire and water to +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> +serve his "Rev'und Gawge,"—anywhere in +fact, save one place. Never any more was +there motive deep enough or power strong +enough to drag him within calling distance of +the gander thicket. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII.</h3> + + +<p>Now that berry picking was at an end, John +Jay slipped back into his old lazy ways. Errands +were run with lagging feet; work was +done in the easiest way possible, and everything +was left undone that he could by any +means avoid. Mammy scolded when she came +home at night and found both water-pail and +wood-box empty, but he went serenely on with +his supper. No matter what happened, nothing +ever interfered with his appetite.</p> + +<p>"Those chillun are gettin' as bad as little +young turkeys 'bout strayin' away from home," +mumbled Aunt Susan one morning, as she +watched them slip through the fence soon +after Sheba had left the house. "An' they +ain't anything wussah than young turkeys for +runnin' off. 'Peahs like that kind of poultry +is nevah satisfied with where they is, but always +want to be where they isn't. It's the same with +those chillun." +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p> + +<p>Although Aunt Susan did not know it, there +was one place where John Jay and his flock of +two were always content to stay; that was on +the steps at the side door of the church. Nearly +every afternoon found them sitting there in a +solemn row, waiting for the shadows to grow long +across the grass, for it was then that +George oftenest came to play on the organ. +He always smiled on the three grave little +figures, waiting so patiently for the music of +his vesper hymns.</p> + +<p>It touched the lonely man to have John Jay +follow him about, with that same wistful look +in his eyes that a faithful dog has for its +master. Sometimes he sat down on the steps +beside the children and talked to them awhile, +just to see the boy's face light up with pleasure.</p> + +<p>It was a mystery to Sheba, how a dignified +minister could care for the companionship of +such a harum-scarum little creature as her +grandson. She did know the tie that bound +them, but their natures were as near akin as +the acorn and the oak. In John Jay the man +saw his own childhood with all its unanswered +questions and dumb, groping ambitions; while +the boy, looking up to his "Rev'und Gawge" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> +as the highest standard of all manliness, felt +faint stirrings within, of the possibility of such +growth for himself.</p> + +<p>Early one morning George sent a message +to Sheba, asking that John Jay might be +allowed to spend the day with him and help +watch the toll-gate, while Mars' Nat was in town. +That morning still stands out in the boy's +memory, as one of the happiest he ever spent.</p> + +<p>Along in the middle of the afternoon, when +travel on the turnpike had almost ceased on +account of the heat, George went into his room +and lay down. John Jay sat on the floor of +the porch, holding the old hound's head in his +lap, and lazily smoothing its long soft ears. +He felt very important when a wagon rattled +up and the toll was dropped into his fingers. +He wished that everybody he knew would ride +by and find him sitting there in charge; but +no one else came for more than an hour. It +had seemed as long as ten hours, with nothing +to do but slap at the flies and talk to the sleepy +hound. John Jay grinned when he saw the +arrival, for it was a man whom he knew.</p> + +<p>"Good evenin', Mistah Boden," he called, +eagerly. The man stopped his horses. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Hello!" he said. "You're in charge, are +you? Where's the rest of the folks?"</p> + +<p>"Mars' Nat, he's gone to town to-day," +answered John Jay, proudly. "I'm keepin' +toll-gate this evenin', Mistah Boden."</p> + +<p>"So!" exclaimed the man, with a cunning +gleam in his little eyes. "That's the lay of +the land, is it?"</p> + +<p>Instead of taking out his pocket-book, he +threw one foot over his knee, and began to +ask questions in a friendly manner that flattered +John Jay.</p> + +<p>"Let's see. Your name's Hickman, hain't +it?"</p> + +<p>"Yessa, John Jay Hickman," answered the +boy.</p> + +<p>"Yes," drawled the man, gnawing at a plug +of tobacco which he took from his pocket. "I +know all about you. Your mammy used to +cook for my wife, and your gran'mammy washed +at our house one summer. How is the old +woman, anyhow?"</p> + +<p>"She's well, thank you, Mistah Boden," was +the pleased answer.</p> + +<p>"And then there's that brother of her's—Billy! +old Uncle Billy! How's he getting on?" +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> + +<p>"Oh, he's mighty complainin', Mistah Boden; +he's got such a misery in his back all the time +that he say he jus' aint got ambition 'nuff to +get out'n his own way."</p> + +<p>"Is that so?" was the reply, in a tone of +flattering interest. The man beckoned him +with his whip to step closer.</p> + +<p>"Look here, boy," he said, in a confidential +tone, "it's a mighty lucky thing for me that +Nat Chadwick left you here instead of a +stranger. Every penny of change I started +with this morning dropped out through a hole +in my pocket somewhere. I didn't find it out +until I got within sight of the place; then, +thinks I to myself, 'oh, it won't make any difference. +Nat and I are old friends; he'll pass +me.' I guess you can do the same, can't you, +being as you're in his place, and I'm an old +friend of your family? You needn't say anything +about it, and I'll do as much for you +some day."</p> + +<p>John Jay looked puzzled. Before he could +reply George walked out on the porch and +stood beside him. He bowed to the man +politely. "I'll take the toll, if you please, +Mr. Boden. Put up the bar, John." +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p> + +<p>The man hesitated a moment, then tossed +him the change, and gave the horses a cut +with his whip that sent them dashing down +the road.</p> + +<p>"If he wasn't jus' tryin' to sneak his way +through 'thout payin'!" exclaimed John Jay, +indignantly. George made no comment, but +John Jay seemed unable to quit talking about +the occurrence. Half an hour later he broke +out again: "He thought 'cause I was jus' a +little boy he could cheat me, an' nobody would +evah know the difference. I nevah in all my +life befo' heard tell of anything so mean!"</p> + +<p>"Haven't you?" asked George, with such +peculiar emphasis and such a queer little smile +that John Jay felt guilty, although he could not +have told why.</p> + +<p>"No, I nevah did," he insisted.</p> + +<p>George leaned against the door-casing, and +looked thoughtfully across the fields. "There +are more turnpikes in life than one, my boy," +he said kindly, "and every one has its toll-gate. +There is the road to learning. I gave up everything +to get through that gate, even my health. +One cannot be anything or do anything worth +while without paying some sort of toll. It may +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> +be time or strength or hard work or patience, +and sometimes we have to give them all."</p> + +<p>"'Peahs like I've nevah struck any such +roads in my travellin'," answered John Jay, +carelessly, who often understood George's little +parables far better than he cared to acknowledge.</p> + +<p>"But I know one road that you are on now, +where you try to slip out of paying what you +owe every day."</p> + +<p>John Jay hung his head, and rubbed his bare +feet together in embarrassed silence. If the +Reverend George said it was so, it must be so, +although he did not know just what he was +hinting at.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Boden knows very well," continued +George, "that the money that is paid here goes +to keep the road in good condition for him to +travel over. He is very glad to have such a +good pike provided for him, but he wants it for +nothing. I know a poor old woman who keeps +the road smooth for somebody. She works +early and late, in hot weather and cold, to earn +food and shelter and clothes for somebody; +and that somebody eats her bread, and wears +out the clothes, and sleeps under her roof, and +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> +never pays any toll. He owes her thanks and +willing service,—all the help he can give her +poor, tired old body, but she never gets even +the thanks. He takes all her drudgery as a +matter of course."</p> + +<p>John Jay's head dropped lower and lower, as +he screwed his toes around in the dust of the +path, mortified and embarrassed. All the whippings +of his life had never stung him so deeply +as George's quiet words. He was used to being +scolded for his laziness. He never paid +any attention to that; but to have his "Rev'und +Gawge" regard him as dishonest as Mr. +Boden hurt him more than words could express.</p> + +<p>Another wagon came rattling up in a cloud +of dust. Without waiting to see the newcomer, +he dodged around the corner of the +house and ran down to the barn. A pair of +puppies came frisking out ready for a romp, +and an old Maltese cat, stretched out in the +sun, stood up and arched its back at his approach. +He took no notice of them, but crawling +up into the hay, threw himself down in a +dark corner with his face hidden in his arms.</p> + +<p>Mars' Nat came home after awhile. John +Jay could hear Ned putting the horse into the +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> +stall, and throwing the corn into the feed-box. +Then everything was still for a long time. +The sun stole through the cracks of the barn +in wide shining streaks, with little motes of +dust dancing up and down in the golden light, +but John Jay did not see them. A shadow +darkened the doorway. He did not see that, +for his face was still hidden. There was a +step on the barn floor, and a rustling in the +hay beside him; then George's hand rested +lightly on his head, and his voice said, soothingly, +"There, there! I wouldn't cry about it."</p> + +<p>"Oh, I nevah thought about things that way +befo'!" sobbed John Jay. "I'll nevah sneak +out of the work again. I'll tote the wood and +watah 'thout waitin' to be asked, an' I'll nevah +lick out my tongue at her behine her back as +long as I live!"</p> + +<p>George bit his lips to keep from laughing, +although he was touched by the little penitent's +distress.</p> + +<p>"Do you know why I said such hard things +to you?" he asked. "It was to open your +eyes. I want to make a man of you, John Jay. +Let me tell you some things about your grandmother +that you have never heard. Her whole +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> +life has been a struggle, and such a very sad +one."</p> + +<p>John Jay rubbed his shirt sleeve across his +eyes and gave a final snuffle. Some people +never have the awakening that came to him +that afternoon. Some people go along all their +days with no other thought in life than to +burrow through their own mole-hills. There +in the hay, with the shining dust of the sunbeams +falling athwart the old barn floor, the +boy lay and listened. Thoughts that he had +no words for, ambitions that he could not express, +yet that filled him with vague longing, +seemed to vibrate along the earnest voice, and +tremble from the fulness of George's heart into +his. Even after George stopped talking and +began to whistle softly in the pause that followed, +John Jay lay quite still with his face +hidden in his arms.</p> + +<p>Ned came in presently, rustling around +through the hay after eggs, and singing at the +top of his voice. The sound seemed to bring +John Jay back to his common every-day self. +He sat up, grinning as if he had never heard +of such things as tears; but those he had shed +must have made his eyesight clearer. As he +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> +slid down from the hay and walked along beside +George, he noticed for the first time how slow +and faltering the steps beside his had grown. +As they climbed up the hill to the church, it +seemed to him that the beloved face looked +unusually thin and haggard in the strong light +of the sunset.</p> + +<p>George did not play long this evening. He +knew that the quiet little listener on the steps +bent as readily to the changing moods of his +melody as the clover does to the fitful breezes; +so he changed abruptly from the minor chords +that his fingers instinctively reached for, to an +old hymn that smoothed away the pathetic +pucker of the boy's forehead. Then he pulled +out the stops and began a loud burst of martial +music, so glad and triumphant, that, listening, +one felt all great things possible of achievement. +John Jay stood up, swinging his cap on +the end of a stick which he carried, with all the +curves and rythmic motions of a drum major.</p> + +<p>After George came out and locked the door, +he stood for a moment looking out fondly +across the peaceful fields, still fair with the +fading glow of the summer sun. John Jay +looked too, feeling at the same time the touch +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> +of a caressing hand laid lightly on his bare +head, but he could not see the lips above him +that moved in a silent benediction.</p> + +<p>When Mammy came home that night, there +was wood in the box and water in the pail. +The loose boards lying around the yard had +been piled up neatly, and the paths were freshly +swept. All that evening John Jay's eyes followed +her with curious glances whichever way +she turned, as if he found her changed. The +change was in John Jay.</p> + +<p>Next day, when she came home, she found +the same state of affairs. It was early in the +afternoon, and the children were out playing. +She hung up her sun-bonnet, and dropped +wearily down into a chair. Then, remembering +a pile of clothes that must be mended before +dark, she got up and began to hunt for her +thimble and thread.</p> + +<p>"That tawmentin' boy must have lost 'em," +she exclaimed, after a vain search through her +work-basket. The clothes were lying on the +bed where she had put them. As she gathered +them in her arms the thimble rolled out, and a +spool of thread with a needle sticking in it fell +to the floor. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 271px;"> +<img src="images/img103.jpg" width="271" height="400" alt="George came out and locked the door" title="George came out and locked the door" /> +<span class="smcap">George came out and locked the door</span> +</div> + +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> +<p>She shook out Ivy's little blue dress, and +began turning it around to find the seam that +was ripped. It was drawn together with queer +straggling stitches that only the most awkward +of fingers could have made. The white buttons +on Bud's shirt-waist had been sewed on with +black thread, and a spot of blood told where +somebody's thumb had felt the sharp thrust of +a needle. John Jay's trousers lay at the bottom +of the pile, with a little round, puckered patch +of calico on each knee.</p> + +<p>The tears came into Mammy's eyes as she +saw the boy's poor attempt to help. "I'se +afeerd he's goin' to die," she muttered in alarm. +"I sut'n'ly is. Poah little fellow: he's mighty +tryin' to a body's patience sometimes, an' he's +made a mess of this mendin', for suah, but I +reckon he means all right. He's not so onthinkin' +an' onthankful aftah all." She laid the +spool and thimble on the window-sill, and folded +her hands to rest awhile. There was a tremulous +smile on her careworn old face. For one +day, at least, John Jay had paid his toll. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII.</h3> + + +<p>Boys do not grow into saints in a single +night, in the way that Jack's beanstalk grew +from earth to sky. Sainthood comes slowly, +like the blossom on a century plant; there +must be a hundred years of thorny stem-life first.</p> + +<p>Mammy soon lost all her fears of John Jay's +dying. Although the promise made to George +on the haymow was faithfully kept, he could +no more avoid getting into mischief than a +weathercock can keep from turning when the +wind blows.</p> + +<p>The October frosts came, sweetening the +persimmons and ripening the nuts in the hazel +copse; but it nipped the children's bare feet, +and made the thinly clad little shoulders shiver. +John Jay gladly shuffled into the old clothes +sent over from Rosehaven. They were many +sizes too big, but he turned back the coat +sleeves and hitched up his suspenders, regardless +of appearances. Bud fared better, for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> +the suit that fell to his lot was but slightly +worn, and almost fitted him. As for Ivy, she +was decked out in such finery that the boys +scarcely dared to touch her. She had been +given a long blue velvet cloak that the youngest +Haven could no longer squeeze into. It +was trimmed with shaggy fur that had once +been white. Ivy admired it so much that when +she was not wearing it out of doors she was +carrying it around in the house in a big roll, as +tenderly as if it had been a great doll.</p> + +<p>It was an odd little procession that filed past +Uncle Billy's house every day, on the way to +the woods for autumn stores. John Jay came +first, with a rickety wagon he had made out of +a soap-box and two solid wooden wheels. He +looked like a little old man, with his long coat +and turned up trowsers. Bud came next in +his new suit, but he had lost his hat, and was +obliged to wear a handkerchief tied over his +ears. Ivy brought up the rear, continually +tripping on her long cloak, and jolting her +white toboggan cap down over her eyes at +almost every step.</p> + +<p>Nuts and persimmons and wild fox-grapes +filled the little wagon many times, and made +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> +a welcome addition to Mammy's meagre bill +of fare.</p> + +<p>Late one evening John Jay came running up +the path all out of breath. The yellow candle-light +streamed out through the cabin window. +He stopped and looked in, sniffing the air with +keen enjoyment, for Mammy was stewing the +rabbit he had caught that morning in a snare.</p> + +<p>He could see Bud sitting on the floor, with +his feet harnessed up as horses. He was sawing +the reins back and forth and remorselessly +switching his own legs until they flew up and +down in fine style. John Jay watched him +with a grin on his face.</p> + +<p>Presently Mammy, turning to season the +stew, saw the black face pressed close against +the window-pane. With a startled shriek she +gave the pepper-pot such a shake that the lid +flew off, and nearly all of the pepper went into +the stew.</p> + +<p>"Jus' see what you done!" she scolded, as +John Jay walked into the house an instant +later. "Next time you come gawkin' in the +window at me in the dark, I'll peppah <i>you</i> +'stid o' the rabbit!"</p> + +<p>John Jay hastened to change the subject. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> +"I sole a bushel of hickory nuts to Mistah +Bemis jus' now," he stammered, "an' he's +goin' to take some mo' next week. I'm savin' +up to get you all somethin' mighty nice for +Chrismus." He jingled his pockets suggestively; +but Mammy was too busy skimming +the pepper out of the stew to make any +reply.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>One warm, mellow afternoon when the golden-rod +was at its sunniest, and the iron-weed +flaunted its royal purple across the fields in the +trail of the Indian summer, John Jay went down +to the toll-gate cottage. He found his Reverend +George sitting on the porch in his overcoat, +with a shawl thrown over his knees. A +book lay in his lap, but his hands were folded +on the open pages, and he was looking far away +across the brown fields of tattered corn-stalks. +He was much better than he had been for several +weeks, and welcomed John Jay so gaily, +that the child felt that a weight had somehow +been lifted from him. Mammy and Uncle Billy +had been whispering together many times of +late, and the little listener shared their fears. +He had made so many visits to the toll-gate +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> +since the day he was left in charge, that he felt +almost as much at home there as Mars' Nat +himself. Once George did all the talking while +John Jay listened with his head bashfully tipped +to one side; now they seemed to have changed +places. It was George who listened.</p> + +<p>John Jay had been kept at home for several +days, and had much to tell. For an hour or +more he entertained George with accounts of +his rabbit snares, his nutting expeditions, and +his persimmon hunts. He told about the dye +Mammy had made from the sumach berries +which he had carried home, and how Ivy had +dropped her pet duck into it. He imitated +Bud's antics when he upset the kettle of soft +soap, and he had much to say about the young +owl which they had caught, and caged under a +wash-tub.</p> + +<p>He did not notice that he was doing all the +talking this afternoon, but filled the pauses that +sometimes fell between them by idly playing +jack-stones with a handful of acorns. George +was thinking as they sat there that this might +be the last time that they two would ever sit +in this way together, and he was searching for +some words with which to prepare the child for +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> +a sudden leave-taking in case it should be +soon.</p> + +<p>At last he cleared his throat. John Jay +looked up expectantly, but just then Mars' Nat +walked around the house.</p> + +<p>"Here comes Doctor Leonard," he said, nodding +towards a rapidly approaching horseman. +"Howdy, Doc," he called, as the man drew +rein, and felt in his pocket for some change +to pay his toll. "What's your hurry?"</p> + +<p>"I've a call over to Elk Ridge," he answered, +handing him the money and quickly starting on. +Then he pulled his horse up with a sudden jerk. +"Here, Chadwick," he called, pitching the heavy +overcoat he carried on his arm in the direction of +the porch, "I wish you'd keep this for me +until I get back. I'll be along this way before +dark, and it's so much warmer than I thought it +would be that such a heavy coat is a nuisance."</p> + +<p>"All right," responded the toll-keeper. +"Here! John Jay," he ordered, as the doctor +disappeared around the bend in the road, "pick +up the gentleman's coat and hang it on a chair +inside the door there." Then he stuck his +hands in his pockets, and whistling to his dog, +walked off across the fields. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span></p> + +<p>George turned to the child again. "John +Jay," he said, "do you know that I'm going +away soon?" Without waiting for an answer, +he hurried on, lest another spell of coughing +should interrupt him. "When I was a little +fellow like you I heard so much about spirits +and graveyards and haunted places that I had +a horror of dying. I could not think of it without +a shiver. But I've found out that death +isn't a cold, ugly thing, my boy, and I want you +to remember all your life every word I'm saying +to you now. There is nothing to dread in +simply going down this road and through the +gate as Doctor Leonard did, and death is no +more than that. We just go down the turnpike +till we get to the end of this life, and then +there's the toll-gate. We lay down our old +worn-out bodies, just as Doctor Leonard left +his coat here, because he wouldn't need it farther +up the road. Then the bar flies up and +lets us through. It drops so quickly that no +one ever sees what lies on the other side, but +we know that there is neither sorrow nor crying +beyond it, nor any more pain. Listen, +John Jay, this is what the Book tells us."</p> + +<p>With fingers that trembled in his eagerness +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> +to make himself understood, he lifted the volume +that had been lying in his lap. The words +that he read vibrated through the child's heart +in the way that the organ music used to roll. +Never again in the years that followed could +he hear them read without seeing all the golden +glory of that radiant October day, and hearing +the mournful notes of some distant dove, falling +at intervals through the Sabbath-like stillness.</p> + +<p>He had a queer conception of what lies +beyond the gates of this life. It was a curious +jumble of crowns and harps and long, white-feathered +wings. Mammy's favorite song said, +"There's milk an' honey in heaven, I know;" +and Aunt Susan often lifted up her cracked +voice in the refrain, "Oh, them golden slippahs +I'm agwine to wear, when Gabriel blows his +trum-pet!" How Uncle Billy could sigh for +the time to come when he might walk the +shining pavements was beyond John Jay's understanding. +Personally, he preferred the freedom +of the neighboring woods and the pleasure +of digging in the dirt to all the white robes +and crowns that might be laid up somewhere in +the skies.</p> + +<p>But when George had finished reading, John +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> +Jay was not gazing into the clouds for a glimpse +of the city to which his friend was going; he +was looking down the road. Crowned with all +their autumn glory, the far hills stood up fair +and golden in the westering sun. It was to +some place just as real and beautiful as the +hills he looked upon that George was going, +not a crowded street with an endless procession +of singing, white-robed figures. A far country, +under whose waving trees health and strength +would be given back to him. No, dying was +not a cold, ugly thing.</p> + +<p>"<i>They shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow +and sighing shall flee away!</i>"</p> + +<p>George closed the book, and leaning wearily +back in the chair, drew his hand over his eyes. +"I want you to promise me one thing, John +Jay," he said. "That when I am gone you will +think of what I am telling you now, and when +the colored people all gather around to see this +tired body of mine laid aside, you'll remember +Dr. Leonard's coat, and you'll say, 'George has +left his behind too. He isn't here, but he's just +on the other side of the toll-gate.' Will you do +that, John Jay?"</p> + +<p>There was a frightened look in the boy's +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> +eyes. He had no words wherewith to answer +him, but he nodded an assent as he went on +nervously tossing the acorns from one hand to +another.</p> + +<p>There was a long silence, and when he looked +up inquiringly, George had put his thin hands +over his face to hide the tears that were slowly +trickling down.</p> + +<p>"What's the mattah?" he asked anxiously. +"Shall I call Mars' Nat?"</p> + +<p>"No," answered the man, steadying his voice. +"I was only thinking that I had expected to go +through the gate, when my turn came, with my +arms piled full of sheaves,—but I've come to +the end too soon. It seems so hard to come +down to death empty-handed, when I have +longed all these years to do so much for my +people. Oh, my poor people!" he cried out +desperately; "so helpless and so needy, and +my life that was to have been given to them +going out in vain! utterly in vain!"</p> + +<p>It was not the first time that John Jay had +heard that cry. In these weeks of constant +companionship George had talked so much of +his hopes and plans, that a faint spark of that +same ambition had begun to smoulder slowly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> +in the boy's ignorant little heart. Six months +ago he could have had no understanding of such +a grief as now made George's voice to tremble; +but love had opened his eyes to many things, +and made his sympathies keen. He drew nearer, +saying almost in a whisper: "But Uncle Billy +says you fought a good fight while you was +gettin' ready to help us cul'ud folks, an' if +you got so knocked up you can't do nothin' +moah, maybe 'twon't be expected as you should +have yo' hands full when you go through the +gates. You've got yo' scars to show for what +you've done."</p> + +<p>George lifted up his head. There was an +eager light in his eyes, not so much because of +the comfort that had come from such an unexpected +quarter, as because of a new hope that +the words suggested. He lifted the boy's chin +with a trembling hand, and looked wistfully into +his eyes.</p> + +<p>"You could do it, couldn't you?" he asked. +"All that I must leave undone? The struggle +would not be so great for you. There are +schools near at hand now. You would not +have the fearful odds to contend with that I +had. <i>Will</i> you take up my battle? Shall +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> +I leave you my sword, John Jay? Oh, you +<i>do</i> understand me, don't you?" he cried, imploringly.</p> + +<p>"Yes, I understand," answered the boy. +Then, as if George had really placed an epaulet +upon his shoulder, as if he had really given +him a sword, he drew a long breath and said +with all the solemnity of a promise: "Some +day Uncle Billy shall say that about me, 'He +have fought a good fight,—he have finished +his co'se.'"</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img117.jpg" width="400" height="167" alt="Swords" title="Swords" /> +</div> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 400px;"> +<img src="images/img118.jpg" width="400" height="203" alt="Tollgate (up)" title="Tollgate (up)" /> +</div> + +<h3><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX.</h3> + + +<p>It came to pass as George had said. One +cold, rainy day when the wind rustled the fallen +leaves and sighed through all the bare branches, +he came haltingly up to the end of his lonely +pilgrimage. It was given to little John Jay to +hold his hand and look into his eyes as Death +swung up the bar and bade him pass on.</p> + +<p>A wondering smile flitted across the beloved +face; then that mysterious silence that bars all +sight and speech fell between the freed spirit +hastening up the eternal highway and the +trembling boy left sobbing behind.</p> + +<p>Mars' Nat turned away with tears in his +eyes and looked out of the window. "Through +thick and thin, he's the one soul who loved me +and believed in me," he said, in a half whisper. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> +"His poor, black hands have upheld the old +family standards and ideals far more faithfully +than mine, both in his slavery and his freedom."</p> + +<p>Because of this there was no grave made for +George in the forsaken shadow of Brier Crook +church. He was given a place on the hill, beside +the Chadwicks, whose name he had borne +unsullied, and to whose honor he had been +proudly loyal.</p> + +<p>"That was a gran' funeral occasion, sis' +Sheba," exclaimed Aunt Susan, as she took +off the rusty crape veil that had served at the +funerals of two generations. "I reckon every +cul'ud person around heah was present. Three +ministahs a helpin', an' fo'teen white families +sendin' flowahs with their cards on isn't to be +seen every day in the yeah. I wouldn't have +missed it for anything."</p> + +<p>"No, indeed," answered Mammy, with a +mournful shake of the head. "Dyin' would be +somethin' to look forwa'ds to if we could all hope +for such a buryin' as that. But I'm beat about +John Jay. He do seem so onfeelin'. He loved +that man bettah than anything on this yearth, +an' I s'posed he'd take his death mighty hard; +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> +but what you reckon he said to me this +mawnin'. I was i'onin' my black aidged handkerchief +to take, when he says to me, sezee, +'What you want to put on mo'nin' for Rev'und +Gawge for? He said to tell you all that he jus' +gone through the toll-gate.'"</p> + +<p>"You don't tell me!" exclaimed Aunt Susan. +"That sut'n'ly sounds on-natchel in a chile like +him."</p> + +<p>"Yes," continued Mammy, "I haven't seen +him shed a tear. He jus' wandahs around the +yard, same as if nothin' had happened, and +nevah says a word about it."</p> +<p><span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 312px;"> +<img src="images/img121.jpg" width="312" height="400" alt="Sat alone by the church steps" title="Sat alone by the church steps" /> +<span class="smcap">Sat alone by the church steps</span> +</div> + +<p>She did not know how many times he slipped +away from the other children and sat alone by +the church steps, where he had so often listened +to George's vesper melodies. She did +not know what mournful cadences of memory +thrilled him, as he rocked himself back and +forth among the dead weeds, with his arms +around his knees and his head bowed on them. +She knew nothing of the music that had sung +wordless longings into his simple child-heart +until it awakened answering voices of a deathless +ambition. So her surprise knew no bounds +when he came slowly into the cabin one evening, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> +and asked if he might be allowed to start +to school the following week.</p> + +<p>"Law, chile!" she answered. "They isn't +any school for cul'ud folks less'n a mile an' a +half away, an' besides, you hasn't clothes fitten +to wear. The scholars would all laugh at you."</p> + +<p>Still he persisted. "What put such a notion +in yo' head, anyhow?" she demanded.</p> + +<p>John Jay turned his face aside, and busied +himself with taking another reef in his suspenders. +"The Rev'und Gawge wanted me to +go," he said, in a low tone. "Besides, how can I +know what all's in the books he done left me +'thout I learn to read?"</p> + +<p>"That's so," assented Mammy, looking +proudly at the shelves now ornamenting one +corner of the little cabin with George's well-worn +school-books. Most of the volumes were +upside down, because her untutored eyes knew +no better than to replace them so, when she +took them out to dust them with loving care. +They were George's greatest treasures, and she +allowed no one to touch them, not even John +Jay, to whom they had been left.</p> + +<p>"What does a little niggah like him want of +schoolin'," she had once said to Uncle Billy, +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> +when he had proposed sending the boy to +school to keep him out of mischief. "Why, +that John Jay he hasn't got any mo' mind than +a grasshoppah. All he knows how to do is jus' +to keep on a jumpin'. No, brer Billy, it would +be a pure waste of good education to spend it +on anybody like him."</p> + +<p>John Jay had always cheerfully agreed with +this opinion, which she never hesitated to express +in his hearing. He had had no desire +to give up his unlettered liberty until that day +on the haymow when he had his awakening. +Having heard Mammy's opinion so often, it +was no wonder that he kept his head turned +bashfully aside, and stumbled over his words +when he timidly made his request. It was +the sight of George's books that gave him +courage to persist, and it was the sight of +the books that decided Mammy's answer. She +could remember the time when Jintsey's boy +had been almost as light-headed and light-hearted +as John Jay; so it was not past +belief that even John Jay might settle down +in time.</p> + +<p>The thought that he might some day be +able to read the books that George had pored +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> +over, and that, possibly, some time in the far +future he might be fitted to preach the gospel +George had proclaimed, aroused all her grandmotherly +pride. Some fragment of a half-forgotten +sermon floated through her mind as +she looked on the ragged little fellow standing +before her.</p> + +<p>"The mantle of the prophet 'Lijah done fell +on his servant 'Lisha," she muttered under +her breath. "What if the mantle of Gawge +Chadwick have been left to my poah Ellen's +boy, 'long with them books?"</p> + +<p>John Jay was balancing himself on one foot, +while he drew the toes of the other along a +crack in the floor between the puncheons, +anxiously awaiting her decision. Not knowing +what was passing through her mind, he +was not prepared for the abrupt change in +both her speech and manner. He almost lost +his balance when she suddenly gave her consent; +but, regaining it quickly, he tumbled through +the door, giving vent to his delight in a series +of whoops that made Mammy's head ring, and +brought her to the door, scolding crossly.</p> + +<p>A few minutes later, a dusky little figure +crept through the gloaming, and rustled softly +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> +through the leaves lying on the path. Resting +his arms on the fence, he looked across the +dim fields to the darkly outlined tree-tops of +the hill beyond.</p> + +<p>"I wondah if he knows that I'm keepin' +my promise," he whispered. "I wondah if he +knows I'm tryin' to follow him."</p> + +<p>Over the churchyard hill the new moon +swung its slender crescent of light, and into +its silvery wake there trembled out of the +darkness a shining star.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>The roadside ditches are covered with ice, +these cold winter mornings. The ruts in the +muddy pike are frozen as hard as stone. John +Jay shuffles along in his big shoes on his way to +school, out at the toes and out at his elbows; but +there is a broad smile all over his bright little +face. Wherever he can find a strip of ice to +slide across, he goes with a rush and a whoop. +Sometimes there is only a raw turnip and a +piece of corn pone in his pocket for dinner. +His feet and fingers are always numb with +cold by the time he reaches the school house, +but his eyes still shine, and his whistle never +loses its note of cheeriness. +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> + +<p>There are whippings and scoldings in the +schoolhouse, just as there have always been +whippings and scoldings in the cabin; for no +sooner is he thawed out after his long walk, +than he begins to be the worry of his teacher's +life, as he was the torment of Mammy's. It +is not that he means to make trouble. Despite +his many blunders into mischief, he is +always at the head of his class, for he has a +motive for hard study that the other pupils +know nothing of.</p> + +<p>Every evening Bud and Ivy watch for his +home-coming with eager faces flattened against +the cabin window, lit up by the red glare +of the sunset. They see him come running +up the road, snapping his cold fingers, +and turning occasional handsprings into the +snow-drifts in the fence corners.</p> + +<p>Just before he comes whistling up the path +with his face twisted into all sorts of ugly +grimaces to make them laugh, he stops at the +gate a moment. Do they wonder what he +always sees across those snowy fields, as he +stands and looks away towards Mars' Nat's +cottage and the white churchyard on the +hill? +<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span></p> + +<p>Ah, Bud and Ivy have not had their awakening; +but the little brother and sister are +not the only ones who fail to see more than +the surface of John Jay's nature. Under the +bubbles of his gay animal spirits runs the +deep current of a strong purpose, and in these +moments he is keeping silent tryst with a +memory. He thinks of his promise, and his +heart goes out to his Reverend George on +the other side of the toll-gate.</p> + +<p class='center'>THE END.</p> + +<div class="figcenter" style="width: 441px;"> +<img src="images/img128.jpg" width="441" height="191" alt="Tollgate (down)" title="Tollgate (down)" /> +</div> + +<p class='bbox'>Transcriber's notes:<br /> +<br /> +<span class="ind2">Page 51 Briar Crook church changed to Brier Crook +church for consistency.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="ind2">All other spelling as found in original.</span><br /> +<br /> +<span class="ind2">Descriptions added to illustrations without captions.</span></p> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK OLE MAMMY'S TORMENT***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 17497-h.txt or 17497-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/7/4/9/17497">http://www.gutenberg.org/1/7/4/9/17497</a></p> +<p>Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed.</p> + +<p>Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. Project +Gutenberg is a registered trademark, and may not be used if you +charge for the eBooks, unless you receive specific permission. If you +do not charge anything for copies of this eBook, complying with the +rules is very easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose +such as creation of derivative works, reports, performances and +research. They may be modified and printed and given away--you may do +practically ANYTHING with public domain eBooks. Redistribution is +subject to the trademark license, especially commercial +redistribution.</p> + + + +<pre> +*** START: FULL LICENSE *** + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project +Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full Project +Gutenberg-tm License (available with this file or online at +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/license">http://www.gutenberg.org/license)</a>. + + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or destroy +all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your possession. +If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound by the +terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person or +entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. + +1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this agreement +and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the Foundation" +or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection of Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual works in the +collection are in the public domain in the United States. If an +individual work is in the public domain in the United States and you are +located in the United States, we do not claim a right to prevent you from +copying, distributing, performing, displaying or creating derivative +works based on the work as long as all references to Project Gutenberg +are removed. Of course, we hope that you will support the Project +Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting free access to electronic works by +freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm works in compliance with the terms of +this agreement for keeping the Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with +the work. You can easily comply with the terms of this agreement by +keeping this work in the same format with its attached full Project +Gutenberg-tm License when you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are in +a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, check +the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this agreement +before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, distributing or +creating derivative works based on this work or any other Project +Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no representations concerning +the copyright status of any work in any country outside the United +States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other immediate +access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear prominently +whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work on which the +phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the phrase "Project +Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, performed, viewed, +copied or distributed: + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is derived +from the public domain (does not contain a notice indicating that it is +posted with permission of the copyright holder), the work can be copied +and distributed to anyone in the United States without paying any fees +or charges. If you are redistributing or providing access to a work +with the phrase "Project Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the +work, you must comply either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 +through 1.E.7 or obtain permission for the use of the work and the +Project Gutenberg-tm trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or +1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any additional +terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms will be linked +to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works posted with the +permission of the copyright holder found at the beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg-tm License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including any +word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access to or +distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format other than +"Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official version +posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site (www.gutenberg.org), +you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense to the user, provide a +copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means of obtaining a copy upon +request, of the work in its original "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other +form. Any alternate format must include the full Project Gutenberg-tm +License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works provided +that + +- You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is + owed to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he + has agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the + Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments + must be paid within 60 days following each date on which you + prepare (or are legally required to prepare) your periodic tax + returns. Royalty payments should be clearly marked as such and + sent to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the + address specified in Section 4, "Information about donations to + the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation." + +- You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm + License. You must require such a user to return or + destroy all copies of the works possessed in a physical medium + and discontinue all use of and all access to other copies of + Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +- You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of any + money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days + of receipt of the work. + +- You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project Gutenberg-tm +electronic work or group of works on different terms than are set +forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing from +both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and Michael +Hart, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the +Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +public domain works in creating the Project Gutenberg-tm +collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may contain +"Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate or +corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other intellectual +property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or other medium, a +computer virus, or computer codes that damage or cannot be read by +your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right +of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH F3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium with +your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you with +the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in lieu of a +refund. If you received the work electronically, the person or entity +providing it to you may choose to give you a second opportunity to +receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If the second copy +is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing without further +opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS,' WITH NO OTHER +WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT LIMITED TO +WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTIBILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of damages. +If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement violates the +law of the state applicable to this agreement, the agreement shall be +interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or limitation permitted by +the applicable state law. The invalidity or unenforceability of any +provision of this agreement shall not void the remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in accordance +with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the production, +promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works, +harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, including legal fees, +that arise directly or indirectly from any of the following which you do +or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this or any Project Gutenberg-tm +work, (b) alteration, modification, or additions or deletions to any +Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any Defect you cause. + + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm + +Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of computers +including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It exists +because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations from +people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need, is critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future generations. +To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation +and how your efforts and donations can help, see Sections 3 and 4 +and the Foundation web page at http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf. + + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive +Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent +permitted by U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's principal office is located at 4557 Melan Dr. S. +Fairbanks, AK, 99712., but its volunteers and employees are scattered +throughout numerous locations. Its business office is located at +809 North 1500 West, Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887, email +business@pglaf.org. Email contact links and up to date contact +information can be found at the Foundation's web site and official +page at http://www.gutenberg.org/about/contact + +For additional contact information: + Dr. Gregory B. Newby + Chief Executive and Director + gbnewby@pglaf.org + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide +spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To +SEND DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any +particular state visit http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/pglaf + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including including checks, online payments and credit card +donations. To donate, please visit: +http://www.gutenberg.org/fundraising/donate + + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic +works. + +Professor Michael S. Hart is the originator of the Project Gutenberg-tm +concept of a library of electronic works that could be freely shared +with anyone. For thirty years, he produced and distributed Project +Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the U.S. +unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + +Each eBook is in a subdirectory of the same number as the eBook's +eBook number, often in several formats including plain vanilla ASCII, +compressed (zipped), HTML and others. + +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks replace the old file and take over +the old filename and etext number. The replaced older file is renamed. +VERSIONS based on separate sources are treated as new eBooks receiving +new filenames and etext numbers. + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org">http://www.gutenberg.org</a> + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + +EBooks posted prior to November 2003, with eBook numbers BELOW #10000, +are filed in directories based on their release date. If you want to +download any of these eBooks directly, rather than using the regular +search system you may utilize the following addresses and just +download by the etext year. + +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/etext06/</a> + + (Or /etext 05, 04, 03, 02, 01, 00, 99, + 98, 97, 96, 95, 94, 93, 92, 92, 91 or 90) + +EBooks posted since November 2003, with etext numbers OVER #10000, are +filed in a different way. The year of a release date is no longer part +of the directory path. The path is based on the etext number (which is +identical to the filename). The path to the file is made up of single +digits corresponding to all but the last digit in the filename. For +example an eBook of filename 10234 would be found at: + +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/1/0/2/3/10234 + +or filename 24689 would be found at: +http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/4/6/8/24689 + +An alternative method of locating eBooks: +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL">http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/GUTINDEX.ALL</a> + +*** END: FULL LICENSE *** +</pre> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/17497-h/images/crest.jpg b/17497-h/images/crest.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac0db31 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/crest.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img004.jpg b/17497-h/images/img004.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1f62950 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img004.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img009.jpg b/17497-h/images/img009.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..ac6dc21 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img009.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img011.jpg b/17497-h/images/img011.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..db16151 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img011.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img012.jpg b/17497-h/images/img012.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..991e352 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img012.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img017.jpg b/17497-h/images/img017.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a161869 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img017.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img039.jpg b/17497-h/images/img039.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..38188a2 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img039.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img047.jpg b/17497-h/images/img047.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1bd3eac --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img047.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img051.jpg b/17497-h/images/img051.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..5fb1d49 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img051.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img062.jpg b/17497-h/images/img062.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..e195907 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img062.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img075.jpg b/17497-h/images/img075.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..945cfb1 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img075.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img086.jpg b/17497-h/images/img086.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f3b69ba --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img086.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img103.jpg b/17497-h/images/img103.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fd05ff4 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img103.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img117.jpg b/17497-h/images/img117.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8290766 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img117.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img118.jpg b/17497-h/images/img118.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..cd0163d --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img118.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img121.jpg b/17497-h/images/img121.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2f61266 --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img121.jpg diff --git a/17497-h/images/img128.jpg b/17497-h/images/img128.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..80ac2ab --- /dev/null +++ b/17497-h/images/img128.jpg |
