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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:39 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 02:38:39 -0700 |
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diff --git a/28517-h/28517-h.htm b/28517-h/28517-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..153768b --- /dev/null +++ b/28517-h/28517-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,8350 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hepsey Burke, by Frank Noyes Westcott</title> +<style type="text/css"> + p {margin-top: 0.5em; text-align: justify; margin-bottom: 0.5em;} + body {margin-left: 11%; margin-right: 10%;} + a {text-decoration: none;} + @media screen { + hr.pb {margin:30px 0; width:100%; border:none;border-top:thin dashed silver;} + .pagenum {display: inline; font-size: x-small; text-align: right; position: absolute; right: 2%; padding: 1px 3px; font-style: normal; font-variant:normal; font-weight:normal; text-decoration: none; background-color: inherit; border:1px solid #eee;} + .pncolor {color: silver;} + } + @media print { + hr.pb {border:none;page-break-after: always;} + .pagenum { display:none; } + } + h3 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.2em;} + h3.pg {text-align:center; font-weight:bold; font-size:110%;} + hr.p30 {border:none;border-bottom:1px solid black;margin:5px auto;} + .figcenter {margin: 2em auto 2em auto; text-align: center;} + p.tp {font-size:1em; margin-top:0em; margin-bottom:0em; text-align:center;} + .caption {font-size:.8em;} + hr.tb {border:none; margin-top: 2em;} + table {margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; clear: both;} + hr.chapter {border:none; border-bottom:1px solid silver; margin-top:50px; width:75%} + h2 {text-align:center; font-weight:normal; font-size:1.4em;} + + hr.full { width: 100%; + margin-top: 3em; + margin-bottom: 0em; + margin-left: auto; + margin-right: auto; + height: 4px; + border-width: 4px 0 0 0; /* remove all borders except the top one */ + border-style: solid; + border-color: #000000; + clear: both; } + .center { text-align: center; } + pre {font-size: 85%;} +</style> +</head> +<body> +<h1 class="center">The Project Gutenberg eBook of Hepsey Burke, by Frank Noyes Westcott, +Illustrated by Frederick R. Gruger</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: Hepsey Burke</p> +<p>Author: Frank Noyes Westcott</p> +<p>Release Date: April 6, 2009 [eBook #28517]</p> +<p>Language: English</p> +<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p> +<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEPSEY BURKE***</p> +<p> </p> +<h3 class="pg">E-text prepared by Roger Frank<br /> + and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br /> + (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p> </p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_1' id='linki_1'></a> +<img src='images/illus-fpc.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 361px; height: 569px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 361px;'> +“YOU HAVEN’T SEEN ANYTHING THAT LOOKED LIKE A PARSON, HAVE YOU? YOU CAN GENERALLY SPOT ’EM EVERY TIME”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:2em;margin-top:0.5em;margin-bottom:1em;'> +H<span style='font-size:80%'>EPSEY</span> B<span style='font-size:80%'>URKE</span></p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'>BY</p> +<p class='tp' style='margin-bottom:3em;'>FRANK N. WESTCOTT</p> +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;margin-bottom:4em;'>ILLUSTRATED BY<br />FREDERICK R. GRUGER</p> + +<div class='figcenter'> +<img alt='emblem' src='images/illus-emb.png' /> +</div> + +<p class='tp' style='margin-top:5em;'>New York<br /> +THE H. K. FLY COMPANY<br /> +Publishers</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<hr style='width:20%; border:none;border-bottom:1px solid black; margin:20px auto;' /> + +<p class='tp' style='font-size:0.8em;'>Copyright, 1915, by<br /> +THE H. K. FLY COMPANY.<br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1915, by<br /> +THE RED BOOK CORPORATION.<br /> +<br /> +Copyright, 1914, by<br /> +THE RED BOOK CORPORATION. +</p> + +<hr style='width:20%; border:none;border-bottom:1px solid black; margin:20px auto;' /> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>CONTENTS.</h3> +<hr style='width:12%; border:none;border-bottom:1px solid black; margin:20px auto;' /> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Contents' style='margin:1em auto;'> +<tr> + <td align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'><span style='font-size:small;'>CHAPTER</span></td> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small;'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>I</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hepsey Burke</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_I_HEPSEY_BURKE'>11</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>II</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Gossip</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_II_GOSSIP'>25</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>III</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Senior Warden</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_III_THE_SENIOR_WARDEN'>36</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Milking</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IV_MILKING'>52</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>V</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Miniature</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_V_THE_MINIATURE'>59</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Missionary Tea</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VI_THE_MISSIONARY_TEA'>71</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hepsey Goes A-Fishing</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VII_HEPSEY_GOES_AFISHING'>85</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>VIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>An Icebox for Cherubim</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_VIII_AN_ICEBOX_FOR_CHERUBIM'>96</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>IX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Rectory</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_IX_THE_RECTORY'>111</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>X</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Bride’s Arrival</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_X_THE_BRIDES_ARRIVAL'>122</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Virginia’s High Horse</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XI_VIRGINIAS_HIGH_HORSE'>130</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>House Cleaning and Bachelorhood</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XII_HOUSE_CLEANING_AND_BACHELORHOOD'>137</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The Circus</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIII_THE_CIRCUS'>147</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>On the Side Porch</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIV_ON_THE_SIDE_PORCH'>160</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Nickey’s Social Ambitions</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XV_NICKEYS_SOCIAL_AMBITIONS'>170</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Practical Temperance Reform</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVI_PRACTICAL_TEMPERANCE_REFORM'>186</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Notice to Quit</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVII_NOTICE_TO_QUIT'>200</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XVIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>The New Rectory</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_NEW_RECTORY'>212</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XIX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Couleur de Rose</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XIX_COULEUR_DE_ROSE'>224</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XX</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Muscular Christianity</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XX_MUSCULAR_CHRISTIANITY'>238</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXI</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Uninvited Guests</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXI_UNINVITED_GUESTS'>253</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hepsey’s Diplomacy</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXII_HEPSEYS_DIPLOMACY'>271</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIII</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hepsey Calls a Meeting</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIII_HEPSEY_CALLS_A_MEETING'>283</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='right' style='padding-right:1em;'>XXIV</td> + <td valign='top' align='left' style='padding-right:4em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Omnium Gatherum</span> </td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#CHAPTER_XXIV_OMNIUM_GATHERUM'>308</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<h3>ILLUSTRATIONS.</h3> +<hr style='width:12%; border:none;border-bottom:1px solid black; margin:20px auto;' /> +<table border='0' cellpadding='2' cellspacing='0' summary='Illustrations' style='margin:1em 4em;'> +<col style='width:80%;' /> +<col style='width:20%;' /> +<tr> + <td></td> + <td align='right'><span style='font-size:small'>PAGE</span></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“You haven’t seen anything that looked like a parson, have you? You can generally spot ’em every time”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_1'>Frontispiece</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“I’m blessed if you ’aint sewin’ white buttons on with black thread. Is anybody dead in the family, or ’aint you feelin’ well this mornin’?”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_2'>62</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“Nicholas Burke, what in the name of conscience does all this idiotic performance mean, I’d like to know?”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_3'>80</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“Oh well, I always believe that two young married people should start out by themselves, and then if they get into a family row it won’t scandalize the parish”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_4'>126</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“I ’aint a chicken no more, Mrs. Betty, and I’ve ’most forgot how to do a bit of courtin’”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_5'>140</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“I consider it a shame and a disgrace to the parish to have our rector in filthy clothes, drawing stone with a lot of ruffians”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_6'>248</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“I’ve got a hunch, Sylvester Bascom, that it’ll be you that’ll have the last word, after all”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_7'>280</a></td> +</tr> +<tr> + <td valign='top' align='left'>“Hepsey Burke, for all your molasses and the little bit of vinegar you say you keep by you, ‘There are no flies on you’ as Nickey would put it”</td> + <td valign='bottom' align='right'><a href='#linki_8'>308</a></td> +</tr> +</table> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch1.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 376px; height: 335px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_11' name='page_11'></a>11</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_I_HEPSEY_BURKE' id='CHAPTER_I_HEPSEY_BURKE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER I</h2> +<h3>HEPSEY BURKE</h3> +</div> +<p>The noisy, loose-jointed train pulled out of the +station, leaving behind it a solitary young +man, enveloped in smoke and cinders. In the +middle of the platform stood a little building with a +curb roof, pointed at both ends like a Noah’s Ark; +and the visitor felt that if he could only manage to +lift up one side of the roof he would find the animals +“two by two,” together with the cylindrical Noah +and the rest of his family. There was no one in +sight but the station-master, who called out from the +ticket office: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_12' name='page_12'></a>12</span></p> +<p>“Did you want to go to the village? The ’bus +won’t be down till the next train: but maybe you can +ride up on the ice wagon.”</p> +<p>“Thanks,” the stranger replied. “I think I’ll wait +for the ’bus, if it’s not too long.”</p> +<p>“Twenty minutes or so, if Sam don’t have to collect +the passengers goin’ West, and wait for a lot o’ +women that forget their handbags and have to get +out and go back after ’em.”</p> +<p>The new arrival was good to look at—a handsome, +well-built fellow of about twenty-five, dressed in a +gray suit which was non-committal as to his profession, +with a clean-shaven face which bore the unmistakable +stamp of good breeding and unlimited good-nature. +He tilted his suit-case on end and sat down +on it; then he filled his briar pipe, crossed his legs, +and looked about to take stock of the situation. He +gazed about curiously; but there was nothing of any +special interest in sight, except, painfully conspicuous +on the face of a grass terrace, the name of the +village picked out in large letters composed of oyster-shells +and the bottoms of protruding beer bottles +stuck in the ground. The stranger found himself +wondering where a sufficient number of bottles could +be found to complete such an elaborate pattern. The +only other marked feature of the landscape in the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_13' name='page_13'></a>13</span> +way of artistic decoration was the corrugated base of +an old stove, painted white, which served as a flower +vase. From this grew a huge bunch of scarlet geraniums, +staring defiantly, and seeming fairly to sizzle in +the hot, vibrant atmosphere, which was as still as the +calm of a moon-lit night.</p> +<p>As the man on the suit-case gazed about him at the +general air of dilapidation and neglect characteristic +of a country town on the down grade, and recalled +the congenial life of the city which he had left, with +all its busy competition, with all its absorbing activities, +the companionship of the men he loved, and the +restful, inspiring intimacy with a certain young +woman, he felt, for the moment, a pang of homesickness. +If the station were a sample of the village +itself, then life in such a place must be deadening to +every finer sensibility and ambition; it must throw a +man back on himself and make him morbid.</p> +<p>The momentary depression was relieved by the +station-master, who suddenly appeared at the door +of the Ark and called out:</p> +<p>“Here comes Hepsey Burke. Maybe she’ll take +you up; that’ll be a dum sight more comfortable than +Lipkin’s ’bus.”</p> +<p>There was nothing to be seen but a cloud of dust, +advancing with the rapidity of a whirlwind along the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_14' name='page_14'></a>14</span> +highway, from which there gradually emerged a team +and a “democrat,” containing a woman, a boy about +fourteen, and a middle-aged man.</p> +<p>As the turn-out drew up, the man took the reins +from Mrs. Burke, who jumped out of the wagon +with remarkable agility for one of her size and years, +and, nodding to the station-master, came on to the +platform.</p> +<p>Hepsey Burke was rather stout; and the lines from +her nose to the corners of her mouth, and the wisps +of gray hair which had blown about her face, indicated +that she had passed the meridian of life. At +first glance there was nothing striking about her appearance; +but there was a subtle expression about the +mouth, a twinkle about the large gray eyes behind +the glasses she wore, that indicated a sense of humor +which had probably been a God-send to her. She +was strong and well, and carried with her an air of +indomitable conviction that things worked themselves +out all right in the long run.</p> +<p>The boy was obviously her son, and in spite of his +overalls and frayed straw hat, he was a handsome +little chap. He looked at you shyly from under a +crop of curly hair, with half closed eyes, giving you +the impression that you were being “sized up” by a +very discriminating individual; and when he smiled, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_15' name='page_15'></a>15</span> +as he did frequently, he revealed a set of very white +and perfect teeth. When he was silent, there was a +little lifting of the inner brow which gave him a +thoughtful look quite beyond his years; and you were +sadly mistaken if you imagined that you could form +a correct impression of Nicholas Burke at the first +interview.</p> +<p>The man wore a sandy beard, but no mustache, and +had a downcast, meekly submissive air, probably the +depressing effect of many years of severe domestic +discipline.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke was evidently surprised to find no one +there but the man on the suit-case; but as he rose and +lifted his hat, she hesitated a moment, exclaiming:</p> +<p>“I beg pardon, but I was lookin’ for a parson who +was to arrive on this train. You haven’t seen anything +that looked like a parson, have you? You can +generally spot ’em every time.”</p> +<p>The young man smiled.</p> +<p>“Well, no; I seem to be the only passenger who +got off the train; and though I’m a clergyman, you +don’t seem to find it easy to ‘spot’ me.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke, with a characteristic gesture, pulled +her glasses forward with a jerk and settled them firmly +back again on the bridge of her nose. She surveyed +the speaker critically as she questioned: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_16' name='page_16'></a>16</span></p> +<p>“But you don’t seem to show the usual symptoms—collar +buttoned behind, and all that.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry to disappoint you, Madam, but I never +travel in clerical uniform. Can’t afford it.”</p> +<p>“Well, you’ve got more sense than most parsons, +if I may say so. Maybe you’re the one I’m lookin’ +for: Mr. Donald Maxwell.”</p> +<p>“That is my name, and I am sure you must be Mrs. +Burke.”</p> +<p>“Sure thing!”—shaking his outstretched hand +heartily. “Now you come right along with me, Mr. +Maxwell, and get into the democrat and make yourself +comfortable.” They walked round to the front +of the station. “This, Mr. Maxwell, is Jonathan +Jackson, the Junior Warden; and this is my son +Nicholas, generally known as Nickey, except when I +am about to spank him. Say, Jonathan, you just h’ist +that trunk into the back of the wagon, and Nickey, +you take the parson’s suit-case.”</p> +<p>The Junior Warden grinned good-naturedly as he +shook hands with the new arrival. But Hepsey continued +briskly: “Now, Jonathan, you get into the back +seat with Nickey, and Mr. Maxwell, you sit with me +on the front seat so that I can talk to you. Jonathan +means well, but his talk’s limited to crops and symptoms, +even if he is an old friend, my next door neighbor, +and the Junior Warden.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_17' name='page_17'></a>17</span></p> +<p>Jonathan obeyed orders; and, as he got into the +wagon, winked at Maxwell and remarked:</p> +<p>“You see we have to take a back seat when Hepsey +drives; and we have to hold on with both hands. +She’s a pacer.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you let him frighten you, Mr. Maxwell,” +Hepsey replied. “Jonathan would probably hold on +with both hands if he lay flat on his back in a ten-acre +lot. He’s just that fearless and enterprisin’.”</p> +<p>Then, starting the horses with a cluck, she turned +to Maxwell and continued:</p> +<p>“I guess I didn’t tell you I was glad to see you; +but I am. I got your note tellin’ me when you were +comin’, but I didn’t get down to the station in time, +as the men are killin’ hogs to-day, and until I get the +in’ards off my hands, I haven’t time for anything.”</p> +<p>“I am sorry to have put you to the trouble of coming +at all. I’m sure it’s very good of you.”</p> +<p>“No trouble; not the least. I generally look after +the visitin’ parsons, and I’m quite used to it. You +can get used to ’most anything.”</p> +<p>Maxwell laughed as he responded:</p> +<p>“You speak as if it weren’t always a pleasure, Mrs. +Burke.”</p> +<p>“Well, I must admit that there are parsons and parsons. +They are pretty much of a lottery, and it is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_18' name='page_18'></a>18</span> +generally my luck to draw blanks. But don’t you +worry about that; you don’t look a bit like a parson.”</p> +<p>“I think that’s a rather doubtful compliment.”</p> +<p>“Oh, well, you know what I mean. There are +three kinds of people in the world; men, women, and +parsons; and I like a parson who is a man first, and +a parson afterwards; not one who is a parson first, +and a man two weeks Tuesday come Michaelmas.”</p> +<p>Donald laughed: he felt sure he was going to make +friends with this shrewd yet open-hearted member of +his flock. The pace slackened as the road began a +steep ascent. Mrs. Burke let the horses walk up the +hill, the slackened reins held in one hand; in the other +lolled the whip, which now and then she raised, tightening +her grasp upon it as if for use, on second +thoughts dropping it to idleness again and clucking +to the horses instead. It was typical of her character—the +means of chastisement held handy, but in +reserve, and usually displaced by other methods of +suasion.</p> +<p>As they turned down over the brow of the hill they +drove rapidly, and as the splendid landscape of rolling +country, tilled fields and pasture, stretching on to +distant wooded mountains, spread out before him, +Maxwell exclaimed enthusiastically, drawing a deep +breath of the exhilarating air: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_19' name='page_19'></a>19</span></p> +<p>“How beautiful it is up here! You must have a +delightful climate.”</p> +<p>“Well,” she replied, “I don’t know as we have +much climate to speak of. We have just a job lot of +weather, and we take it regular—once after each +meal, once before goin’ to bed, and repeat if necessary +before mornin’. I won’t say but it’s pretty good +medicine, at that. There’d be no show for the doctor, +if it wasn’t fashionable to invite him in at the +beginnin’ and the end of things.”</p> +<p>Jonathan, who up to this time had been silent, felt +it incumbent to break into the conversation a bit, and +interposed:</p> +<p>“I suppose you’ve never been up in these parts before?”</p> +<p>“No,” Maxwell responded; “but I’ve always intended +to come up during the season for a little +hunting some time. Was there much sport last +year?”</p> +<p>“Well, I can’t say as there was, and I can’t say <i>as</i> +there wasn’t. The most I recollect was that two city +fellers shot a guide and another feller. But then it +was a poor season last fall, anyway.”</p> +<p>Maxwell gave the Junior Warden a quick look, +but there was not a trace of a smile on his face, and +Hepsey chuckled. Keeping her eyes on the horses +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_20' name='page_20'></a>20</span> +as they trotted along at a smart pace over a road none +too smooth for comfortable riding, she remarked +casually:</p> +<p>“I suppose the Bishop told you what we wanted +in the shape of a parson, didn’t he?”</p> +<p>“Well, he hinted a few things.”</p> +<p>“Yes; we’re awful modest, like most country parishes +that don’t pay their rector more than enough +to get his collars laundered. We want a man who +can preach like the Archbishop of Canterbury, and +call on everybody twice a week, and know just when +anyone is sick without bein’ told a word about it. +He’s got to be an awful good mixer, to draw the +young people like a porous plaster, and fill the pews. +He must have lots of sociables, and fairs, and things +to take the place of religion; and he must dress well, +and live like a gentleman on the salary of a book-agent. +But if he brings city ways along with him and +makes us feel like hayseeds, he won’t be popular.”</p> +<p>“That’s a rather large contract!” Maxwell replied +with a smile.</p> +<p>“Yes, but think what we’re goin’ to pay you: six +hundred dollars a year, and you’ll have to raise most +of it yourself, just for the fun of it.”</p> +<p>At this point the Junior Warden interrupted: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_21' name='page_21'></a>21</span></p> +<p>“Now, Hepsey, what’s the use of upsettin’ the +young man at the start. He’s––”</p> +<p>“Never mind, Jonathan. I’m tellin’ the truth, anyway. +You see,” she continued, “most people think +piety’s at a low ebb unless we’re gettin’ up some kind +of a holy show all the time, to bring people together +that wouldn’t meet anywhere else if they saw each +other first. Then when they’ve bought a chance on a +pieced bed-quilt, or paid for chicken-pie at a church +supper, they go home feelin’ real religious, believin’ +that if there’s any obligation between them and +heaven, it isn’t on their side, anyway. Do you think +you’re goin’ to fill the bill, Mr. Maxwell?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know,” said Maxwell. “Of course +I might find myself possessed of a talent for inventing +new and original entertainments each week; but +I’m afraid that you’re a bit pessimistic, Mrs. Burke, +aren’t you?”</p> +<p>“No, I’m not. There’s a mighty fine side to life +in a country parish sometimes, where the right sort +of a man is in charge. The people take him as one +of their family, you know, and borrow eggs of his +wife as easy as of their next door neighbor. But the +young reverends expect too much of a country parish, +and break their hearts sometimes because they can’t +make us tough old critters all over while you wait. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_22' name='page_22'></a>22</span> +Poor things! I’m sorry for the average country parson, +and a lot sorrier for his wife.”</p> +<p>“Well, don’t you worry about me; I’m well and +strong, and equal to anything, I imagine. I don’t +believe in taking life too seriously; it’s bad for the +nerves and digestion. It will be an entirely new experience +for me, and I’m sure I shall find the people +interesting.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but what if they aren’t your kind? I suppose +you might find hippopotamuses interestin’ for a +while, but that’s no reason you should like to live with +’em. Anyway, don’t mind what people say. They +aint got nothin’ to think about, so they make up by +talkin’ about it, especially when it happens to be a +new parson. We’ve been havin’ odds and ends of +parsons from the remnant counter now for six months +or more; and that’s enough to kill any parish. I +believe that if the angel Gabriel should preach for us, +half the congregation would object to the cut of his +wings, and the other half to the fit of his halo. We +call for all the virtues of heaven, and expect to get +’em for seven-forty-nine.”</p> +<p>“Well—I shall have to look to you and the Wardens +to help me out,” he said. “You must help me +run things, until I know the ropes.”</p> +<p>“Oh! Bascom will run things for you, if you let +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_23' name='page_23'></a>23</span> +him do the runnin’,” she replied, cracking her whip. +“You’ll need to get popular first with him and his—then +you’ll have it easy.”</p> +<p>Maxwell pondered these local words of wisdom, +and recalled the Bishop’s warning that Bascom, the +Senior Warden, had not made life easy for his predecessors, +and his superior’s exhortation to firmness and +tact, to the end that he, Maxwell, should hold his +own, while taking his Senior Warden along with him. +The Senior Warden was evidently a power in the land.</p> +<p>They had driven about a mile and a half when the +wagon turned off the road, and drew up by a house +standing some distance back from it; getting down, +Mrs. Burke exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Welcome to Thunder Cliff, Mr. Maxwell. Thunder +Cliff’s the name of the place, you know. All the +summer visitors in Durford have names for their +houses; so I thought I’d call my place Thunder Cliff, +just to be in the style.”</p> +<p>Jonathan Jackson, who had kept a discreet silence +during Hepsey’s pointers concerning his colleague, +the Senior Warden, interjected:</p> +<p>“There ’aint no cliff, Hepsey, and you know it. I +always tell her, Mr. Maxwell, ’taint appropriate a +bit.”</p> +<p>“Jonathan, you ’aint no Englishman, and there’s no +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_24' name='page_24'></a>24</span> +use pretendin’ that you are. Some day when I have +a couple of hours to myself, I’ll explain the whole +matter to you. There isn’t any cliff, and the house +wants paintin’ and looks like thunder. Isn’t that reason +enough to go on with? Now, Mr. Maxwell, you +come in and make yourself perfectly at home.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch2.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 367px; height: 321px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_25' name='page_25'></a>25</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_II_GOSSIP' id='CHAPTER_II_GOSSIP'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER II</h2> +<h3>GOSSIP</h3> +</div> +<p>That afternoon Maxwell occupied himself in +unpacking his trunks and arranging his room. +As the finishing touch, he drew out of a leather +case an exquisite miniature of a beautiful girl, +which he placed on the mantelpiece, and at which he +gazed for a long time with a wistful light in his fine +gray eyes. Then he threw himself on the lounge, and +pulling a letter from his inner pocket, read:</p> +<p>“Don’t worry about expenses, dear. Six hundred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_26' name='page_26'></a>26</span> +is quite enough for two; we shall be passing rich! +You must remember that, although I am a ‘college +girl,’ I am not a helpless, extravagant creature, and I +know how to economize. I am sure we shall be able +to make both ends meet. With a small house, rent +free, a bit of ground for a vegetable garden, and +plenty of fresh air, we can accomplish almost anything, +and be supremely happy together. And then, +when you win advancement, as of course you will very +soon, we shall appreciate the comforts all the more +from the fact that we were obliged to live the simple +life for a while.</p> +<p>“You can’t possibly imagine how I miss you, sweetheart. +Do write as soon as possible and tell me all +about Durford. If I could just have one glimpse of +you in your new quarters—but that would only be a +wretched aggravation; so I keep saying to myself +‘Some day, some day,’ and try to be patient. God +bless you and good-by.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Donald folded the letter carefully, kissed it, and +tucked it away in his pocket. Clasping his hands behind +his head, he gazed at the ceiling.</p> +<p>“I wonder if I’d better tell Mrs. Burke about Betty. +I don’t care to pass myself off as a free man in a +parish like this. And yet, after all, it’s none of their +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_27' name='page_27'></a>27</span> +business at present. I think I’d better wait and find +out if there’s any possibility of making her happy +here.”</p> +<p>There was a knock at the door.</p> +<p>“Talk of angels,” murmured Maxwell, and hurriedly +returned the miniature to its case before opening +the door to Mrs. Burke, who came to offer assistance.</p> +<p>“Don’t bother to fuss for me,” she said as he hastened +to remove some books and clothes from a chair, +so that she might sit down. “I only came up for a +moment to see if there was anything I could do. +Think you can make yourself pretty comfortable +here? I call this room ‘the prophet’s chamber,’ +you know, because it’s where I always put the visitin’ +parsons.”</p> +<p>“They’re lucky,” he replied. “This room is just +delightful with that jolly old fireplace, its big dormer +windows, and the view over the river and the hills +beyond: I shall be very comfortable.”</p> +<p>“Well, I hope so. You know I don’t think any +livin’-room is complete without a fireplace. Next to +an old friend, a bright wood fire’s the best thing I +know to keep one from getting lonesome.”</p> +<p>“Yes—that and a good cigar.”</p> +<p>“Well, I haven’t smoked in some time now,” Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_28' name='page_28'></a>28</span> +Burke replied, smiling, “so I can’t say. What a lot +of things you’ve got!”</p> +<p>“Yes, more than I thought I had.”</p> +<p>“I do love to see a man tryin’ to put things to +rights. He never knows where anything belongs. +What an awful lot of books you’ve got! I suppose +you’re just chuck full of learnin’, clean up to your +back teeth; but we won’t any of us know the difference. +Most city parsons preach about things that are +ten miles over the heads of us country people. You +can’t imagine how little thinkin’ most of us do up +here. We’re more troubled with potato bugs than we +are with doubts; and you’ll have to learn a lot about +us before you really get down to business, I guess.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I expect to learn more from you than you +will from me. That’s one of the reasons why I +wanted to come so far out in the country.”</p> +<p>“Hm! I hope you won’t be disappointed.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke adjusted her glasses and gazed interestedly +about the room at some pictures and decorations +which Maxwell had placed in position, and inquired:</p> +<p>“Who is the plaster lady and gentleman standin’ +on the mantelpiece?”</p> +<p>“The Venus de Milo, and the Hermes of Praxiteles.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_29' name='page_29'></a>29</span></p> +<p>“Well, you know, I just can’t help preferrin’ ladies +and gentlemen with arms and legs, myself. I suppose +it’s real cultivated to learn to like parts of people +done in marble. Maybe when I go down to the city +next fall to buy my trousseau, I’ll buy a few plasters +myself, to make the house look more cheerful-like.”</p> +<p>Maxwell caught at the word “trousseau,” and as +Mrs. Burke had spoken quite seriously he asked:</p> +<p>“Are you going to be married, Mrs. Burke?”</p> +<p>“No such thing! But when a handsome young +widow like me lives alone, frisky and sixty-ish, with +six lonesome, awkward widowers in the same school +district, you can never tell what might happen any +minute; ‘In time of peace prepare for war,’ as the +paper says.”</p> +<p>Maxwell laughed reassuringly.</p> +<p>“I don’t see why you laugh,” Mrs. Burke responded, +chuckling to herself. “’Taint polite to look surprised +when a woman says she’s a-goin’ to get married. +Every woman under ninety-eight has expectations. +While there’s life there’s hope that some man +will make a fool of himself. But unless I miss my +guess, you don’t catch me surrenderin’ my independence. +As long as I have enough to eat and am well, +I’m contented.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_30' name='page_30'></a>30</span></p> +<p>“You certainly look the picture of health, Mrs. +Burke.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes! as well as could be expected, when I’m +just recoverin’ from a visit from Mary Sam.”</p> +<p>“What sort of a visitor is that?” asked Maxwell, +laughing.</p> +<p>“Mary Sam is my sister-in-law. She spends a +month with me every year on her own invitation. She +is what you’d call a hardy annual. She is the most +stingy and narrow-minded woman I ever saw. The +bark on the trees hangs in double box-plaits as compared +with Mary Sam. But I got the best of her last +year. While I was cleanin’ the attic I came across +the red pasteboard sign with ‘Scarlet Fever’ painted +on it, that the Board of Health put on the house when +Nickey had the fever three years ago. The very next +day I was watchin’ the ’bus comin’ up Main Street, +when I saw Mary Sam’s solferino bonnet bobbin’ up +and down inside. Before she got to the house, I +sneaked out and pinned up the sign, right by the front +door. She got onto the piazza, bag, baggage, and +brown paper bundles, before she caught sight of it. +Then I wish you could have seen her face: I wouldn’t +have believed so much could be done with so few +features.”</p> +<p>“She didn’t linger long?” laughed the parson, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_31' name='page_31'></a>31</span> +who continued arranging his books while his visitor +chatted.</p> +<p>“Linger? Well, not exactly. She turned tail and +run lickety-spindle back for the ’bus as if she had +caught sight of a subscription paper for foreign missions. +I heard Jim Anderson, who drives the ’bus, +snicker as he helped her in again; but he didn’t give +me away. Jim and I are good friends. But when +she got home she wrote to Sally Ramsdale to ask how +Nickey was; and Sally, not bein’ on to the game, wrote +back that there was nothin’ the matter with Nickey +that she knew of. Then Mary Sam wrote me the +impudentest letter I ever got; and she came right +back, and stayed two months instead of one, just to +be mean. But that sign’s done good service since. +I’ve scared off agents and tramps by the score. I +always hang it in the parlor window when I’m away +from home.”</p> +<p>“But suppose your house caught fire while you were +away?”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ve thought of that; but there’s worse +things than fire if your insurance is all right.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke relapsed into silence for a while, until +Maxwell opened a box of embroidered stoles, which +he spread out on the bed for her inspection.</p> +<p>“My! but aren’t those beautiful! I never saw the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_32' name='page_32'></a>32</span> +like before. Where did you get ’em?”</p> +<p>“They were made by the ‘Sisters of St. Paul’ in +Boston.”</p> +<p>Hepsey gazed at the stoles a long time in silence, +handling them daintily; then she remarked:</p> +<p>“I used to embroider some myself. Would you +like to see some of it?”</p> +<p>“Certainly, I should be delighted to see it,” Donald +responded; and Mrs. Burke went in search of +her work.</p> +<p>Presently she returned and showed Maxwell a sample +of her skill—doubtless intended for a cushion-cover. +To be sure it was a bit angular and impressionistic. +Like Browning’s poems and Turner’s pictures, +it left interesting room for speculation. To +begin with, there was a dear little pink dog in the +foreground, having convulsions on purple grass. In +the middle-distance was a lay-figure in orange, picking +scarlet apples from what appeared to be a revolving +clothes-horse blossoming profusely at the ends +of each beam. A little blue brook gurgled merrily +up the hill, and disappeared down the other side only +to reappear again as a blue streak in an otherwise +crushed-strawberry sky. A pumpkin sun was disappearing +behind emerald hills, shooting up equidistant +yellow rays, like the spokes of a cart-wheel. Underneath +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_33' name='page_33'></a>33</span> +this striking composition was embroidered the +dubious sentiment “There is no place like home.”</p> +<p>Maxwell examined carefully the square of cross-stitch +wool embroidery, biting his lip; while Hepsey +watched him narrowly, chuckling quietly to herself. +Then she laughed heartily, and asked:</p> +<p>“Confess now; don’t you think it’s beautiful?”</p> +<p>Donald smiled broadly as he replied:</p> +<p>“It’s really quite wonderful. Did you do it yourself?”</p> +<p>“To be sure I did, when I was a little girl and we +used to work in wool from samplers, and learn to do +alphabets. I’m glad you appreciate it. If you would +like to have me embroider anything for the church, +don’t hesitate to ask me.” She busied herself examining +the stoles again, and asked:</p> +<p>“How much did these things cost, if you don’t +mind my askin’?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know. They were given to me by a friend +of mine, when I graduated from the Seminary.”</p> +<p>“Hm! a friend of yours, eh? She must think an +awful lot of you.”</p> +<p>Hepsey gave Donald a sharp glance.</p> +<p>“I didn’t say it was a lady.”</p> +<p>“No, but your eyes and cheeks did. Well, it’s none +of my business, and there’s no reason that I know of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_34' name='page_34'></a>34</span> +why the Devil should have all the bright colors, and +embroideries, and things. Are you High Church?”</p> +<p>Maxwell hesitated a moment and replied:</p> +<p>“What do you mean by ‘High Church?’”</p> +<p>“The last rector we had was awful high.” Hepsey +smiled with reminiscent amusement.</p> +<p>“How so?”</p> +<p>“We suspected he didn’t wear no pants durin’ service.”</p> +<p>“How very extraordinary! Is that a symptom of +ritualism?”</p> +<p>“Well, you see he wore a cassock under his surplice, +and none of our parsons had ever done that +before. The Senior Warden got real stirred up about +it, and told Mr. Whittimore that our rectors always +wore pants durin’ service. Mr. Whittimore pulled +up his cassock and showed the Warden that he had +his pants on. The Warden told him it was an awful +relief to his mind, as he considered goin’ without +pants durin’ service the enterin’ wedge for Popish +tricks; and if things went on like that, nobody knew +where we would land. Then some of the women got +talkin’, and said that the rector practiced celibacy, and +that some one should warn him that the parish +wouldn’t stand for any more innovations, and he’d +better look out. So one day, Virginia Bascom, the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_35' name='page_35'></a>35</span> +Senior Warden’s daughter, told him what was being +said about him. The parson just laughed at Ginty, +and said that celibacy was his misfortune, not his +fault; and that he hoped to overcome it in time. That +puzzled her some, and she came to me and asked +what celibacy was. When I told her it was staying +unmarried, like St. Paul—my, but wasn’t she mad, +though! You ought to have seen her face. She was +so mortified that she wouldn’t speak to me for a week. +Well, I guess I’ve gossiped enough for now. I must +go and make my biscuits for supper. If I can help +you any, just call out.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch3.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 363px; height: 325px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_36' name='page_36'></a>36</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_III_THE_SENIOR_WARDEN' id='CHAPTER_III_THE_SENIOR_WARDEN'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER III</h2> +<h3>THE SENIOR WARDEN</h3> +</div> +<p>“It’s a fine morning, Mr. Maxwell,” Mrs. Burke +remarked at breakfast next day, “and I’m goin’ +to drive down to the village to do some shopping. +Don’t you want to go with me and pay your +respects to the Senior Warden? You’ll find him in +his office. Then I’ll meet you later, and bring you +home—dead or alive!”</p> +<p>Maxwell laughed. “That sounds cheerful, but I +should be glad to go.”</p> +<p>“I guess you better, and have it over with. He’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_37' name='page_37'></a>37</span> +expect it. He’s like royalty: he never calls first; and +when he’s at home he always has a flag on a pole in +the front yard. If he’s out of town for the day, his +man lowers the flag. I generally call when the flag’s +down. I wish everybody had a flag; it’s mighty convenient.”</p> +<p>The center of Durford’s social, commercial and +ecclesiastical life was the village green, a plot of +ground on which the boys played ball, and in the middle +of which was the liberty pole and the band-stand. +On one side of the green was a long block of stores, +and on the opposite side a row of churches, side by +side, five in number. There was the Meeting House, +in plain gray; “The First Church of Durford,” with +a Greek portico in front; “The Central Church,” +with a box-like tower and a slender steeple with a gilded +rooster perched on top—an edifice which looked +like a cross between a skating rink and a railroad +station; and last of all, the Episcopal Church on the +corner—a small, elongated structure, which might +have been a carpenter-shop but for the little cross +which surmounted the front gable, and the pointed +tops of the narrow windows, which were supposed +to be “gothic” and to proclaim the structure to be the +House of God.</p> +<p>Just around the corner was a little tumble-down +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_38' name='page_38'></a>38</span> +house known as “The Rectory.” The tall grass and +the lowered shades indicated that it had been unoccupied +for some time. Mrs. Burke called Maxwell’s +attention to it.</p> +<p>“I suppose you’ll be living there some day—if you +stay here long enough; though of course you can’t +keep house there alone. The place needs a lot of over-haulin’. +Nickey says there’s six feet of plaster off +the parlor ceilin’, and the cellar gets full of water +when it rains; but I guess we can fix it up when the +time comes. That’s your cathedral, on the corner. +You see, we have five churches, when we really need +only one; and so we have to scrap for each other’s +converts, to keep up the interest. We feed ’em on +sandwiches, pickles and coffee every now and then, to +make ’em come to church. Yes, preachin’ and pickles, +sandwiches and salvation, seem to run in the same +class, these days.”</p> +<p>When they arrived in front of the block, Mrs. +Burke hitched her horse, and left Maxwell to his own +devices. He proceeded to hunt up the post office; +and as the mail was not yet distributed, he had to wait +some time, conscious of the fact that he was the center +of interest to the crowd assembled in the room. +Finally, when he gained access to the delivery window, +he was greeted by a smile from the postmistress, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_39' name='page_39'></a>39</span> +a woman of uncertain age, who remarked as she +handed him his letters:</p> +<p>“Good morning, Mr. Maxwell. Glad to meet you. +I’m a Presbyterian myself; but I have always made it +a point to be nice to everybody. You seem to have +quite a good many correspondents, and I presume +you’ll be wantin’ a lock box. It’s so convenient. You +must feel lonesome in a strange place. Drop in and +see mother some day. She’s got curvature of the +spine, but no religious prejudices. She’ll be right glad +to see you, I’m sure, even though she’s not ’Piscopal.”</p> +<p>Maxwell thanked her, and inquired the way to the +Senior Warden’s office, to which she directed him.</p> +<p>Three doors below the post office was a hallway +and a flight of stairs leading up to Mr. Bascom’s +sanctum. As he ascended, Maxwell bethought him +of the Bishop’s hint that this was the main stronghold +for the exercise of his strategy. The Senior +Warden, for some reason or other, had persistently +quarreled with the clergy, or crossed them. What was +the secret of his antagonism? Would he be predisposed +in Maxwell’s favor, or prejudiced against him? +He would soon discover—and he decided to let +Bascom do most of the talking. Reaching the first +landing, Donald knocked on a door the upper panel +of which was filled with glass, painted white. On +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_40' name='page_40'></a>40</span> +the glass in large black letters was the name: “<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Sylvester +Bascom</span>.”</p> +<p>The Senior Warden sat behind a table, covered +with musty books and a litter of letters and papers. +In his prime he had been a small man; and now, well +past middle age, he looked as if he had shrunk until +he was at least five sizes too small for his skin, which +was sallow and loose. There was a suspicious look +in his deep-set eyes, which made his hooked nose all +the more aggressive. He was bald, except for a few +stray locks of gray hair which were brushed up from +his ears over the top of his head, and evidently fastened +down by some gluey cosmetic. He frowned +severely as Maxwell entered, but extended a shriveled, +bony hand, and pointed to a chair. Then +placing the tips of his fingers together in front of +his chest, he gazed at Donald as if he were the prisoner +at the bar, and began without any preliminary +welcome:</p> +<p>“So you are the young man who is to take charge +of the church. It is always difficult for a city-bred +man to adjust himself to the needs and manners of a +country parish. Very difficult, Mr. Maxwell—very +difficult.”</p> +<p>Maxwell smiled as he replied:</p> +<p>“Yes, but that is a fault which time will remedy.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_41' name='page_41'></a>41</span></p> +<p>“Doubtless. Time has a way of remedying most +things. But in the meantime—in the meantime, lack +of tact, self-assertiveness, indiscretion, on the part of +a clergyman may do much harm—much harm!”</p> +<p>Mr. Maxwell colored slightly as he laughed and +replied:</p> +<p>“I should imagine that you have had rather a ‘mean +time,’ from the way you speak. Your impressions of +the clergy seem to be painful.”</p> +<p>“Well,” the lawyer continued sententiously, “we +have had all sorts and conditions of men, as the +Prayer Book says; and the result has not <i>always</i> been +satisfactory—<i>not</i> always satisfactory. But I was not +consulted.”</p> +<p>To this, Maxwell, who was somewhat nettled, replied:</p> +<p>“I suppose that in any case the responsibility for the +success of a parish must be somewhat divided between +the parson and the people. I am sure I may count on +your assistance.”</p> +<p>“Oh yes; oh yes; of course. I shall be very glad +to advise you in any way I can. Prevention is better +than cure: don’t hesitate to come to me for suggestions. +You will doubtless be anxious to follow in the +good old ways, and avoid extremes. I am a firm believer +in expediency. Though I was not consulted in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_42' name='page_42'></a>42</span> +the present appointment, I may say that what we need +is a man of moderate views who can adjust himself +to circumstances. Tact, that is the great thing in life. +I am a firm believer in tact. Our resources are limited; +and a clergyman should be a self-denying man +of God, contented with plain living and high thinking. +No man can succeed in a country parish who +seeks the loaves and fishes of the worldling. Durford +is not a metropolis; we do not emulate city +ways.”</p> +<p>“No, I should imagine not,” Maxwell answered.</p> +<p>The parson gathered that the Senior Warden felt +slighted that he had not been asked by the Bishop to +name his appointee; and that if he had bethought +himself to sprinkle a little hay-seed on his clothing, +his reception might have been more cordial.</p> +<p>At this point the door opened and a woman, hovering +somewhere between twenty-five and forty, +dressed in rather youthful and pronounced attire, entered, +and seeing Donald exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Oh, papa, I did not know that you were busy with +a client. Do excuse me.”</p> +<p>Then, observing the clerical attire of the “client,” +she came forward, and extending her hand to Donald, +exclaimed with a coy, insinuating smile:</p> +<p>“I am sure that you must be Mr. Maxwell. I am +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_43' name='page_43'></a>43</span> +so glad to see you. I hope I am not interrupting +professional confidences.”</p> +<p>“Not in the least,” Donald replied, as he placed +a chair for her. “I am very glad to have the pleasure +of meeting you, Miss Bascom.”</p> +<p>“I heard last night that you had arrived, Mr. Maxwell; +and I am sure that it is very good of you to +come and see papa so soon. I hope to see you at our +house before long. You know that we are in the +habit of seeing a good deal of the rector, because—you +will excuse my frankness—because there are so +few people of culture and refinement in this town to +make it pleasant for him.”</p> +<p>“I am sure that you are very kind,” Donald replied. +Miss Bascom had adjusted her tortoise-shell lorgnette, +and was surveying Donald from head to +foot.</p> +<p>“Is your wife with you?” she inquired, as one who +would say: “Tell me no lies!”</p> +<p>“No, I am not married.”</p> +<p>At once she was one radiant smile of welcome:</p> +<p>“Papa, we must do all we can to make Mr. Maxwell +feel at home at Willow Bluff—so that he will +not get lonesome and desert us,” she added genially.</p> +<p>“You’re very kind.”</p> +<p>“You must come and dine with us very soon and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_44' name='page_44'></a>44</span> +see our place for yourself. You are staying with Mrs. +Burke, I understand.”</p> +<p>“Yes.”</p> +<p>“How does she impress you?”</p> +<p>“I hardly know her well enough to form any definite +opinion of her, though she has been kindness +itself to me.”</p> +<p>“Yes, she has a sharp tongue, but a kind heart; +and she does a great deal of good in the village; but, +poor soul! she has no sense of humor—none whatever. +Then of course she is not in society, you know. +You will find, Mr. Maxwell, that social lines are very +carefully drawn in this town; there are so many +grades, and one has to be careful, you know.”</p> +<p>“Is it so! How many people are there in the +town?”</p> +<p>“Possibly eight or nine hundred.”</p> +<p>“And how many of them are ‘in society’?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I should imagine not more than twenty or +thirty.”</p> +<p>“They must be very select.”</p> +<p>“Oh, we are; quite so.”</p> +<p>“Don’t you ever get tired of seeing the same twenty +or thirty all the time? I’m afraid I am sufficiently +vulgar to like a change, once in a while—somebody +real common, you know.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_45' name='page_45'></a>45</span></p> +<p>Miss Bascom raised her lorgnette in pained surprise +and gazed at Donald curiously; then she sighed +and tapping her fingers with her glasses replied:</p> +<p>“But one has to consider the social responsibilities +of one’s position, you know. Many of the village +people are well enough in their way, really quite +amusing as individuals; but one cannot alter social +distinctions.”</p> +<p>“I see,” replied Donald, non-committally.</p> +<p>Virginia was beginning to think that the new rector +was rather dull in his perceptions, rather <i>gauche</i>, +but, deciding to take a charitable view, she held out +her hand with a beaming smile as she said:</p> +<p>“Remember, you are to make Willow Bluff one of +your homes. We shall always be charmed to see +you.”</p> +<p>When, after their respective shoppings were completed, +Maxwell rejoined Mrs. Burke, and they had +started on a brisk trot towards home, she remarked:</p> +<p>“So you have had a visit with the Senior Warden.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and with Miss Bascom. She came into the +office while I was there.”</p> +<p>“Hm! Well! She’s one of your flock!”</p> +<p>“Would you call Miss Bascom one of my lambs?” +asked Donald mischievously. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_46' name='page_46'></a>46</span></p> +<p>“Oh, that depends on where you draw the line. +Don’t you think she’s handsome?”</p> +<p>“I can hardly say. What do you think about it?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I don’t know. When she’s well dressed she +has a sort of style about her; but isn’t it merciful +that we none of us know how we really do look? If +we did, we wouldn’t risk bein’ alone with ourselves +five minutes without a gun.”</p> +<p>“Is that one for Miss Bascom?”</p> +<p>“No, I ought not to say a word against Virginia +Bascom. She’s a good sort accordin’ to her lights; +and then too, she is a disconnection of mine by marriage—once +removed.”</p> +<p>“How do you calculate that relationship?”</p> +<p>“Oh, her mother’s brother married my sister. She +suspected that he was guilty of incompatibility—and +she proved it, and got a divorce. If that don’t make +a disconnection of Ginty Bascom, then I don’t know +what does. Virginia was born in Boston, though she +was brought up here. It must be terrible to be born +in Boston, and have to live up to it, when you spend +your whole life in a place like Durford. But Ginty +does her very best, though occasionally she forgets.”</p> +<p>“You can hardly blame her for that. Memory is +tricky, and Boston and Durford are about as unlike +as two places well could be.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_47' name='page_47'></a>47</span></p> +<p>“Oh, no; I don’t blame her. Once she formed a +club for woman’s suffrage. She set out to ‘form my +mind’—as if my mind wasn’t pretty thoroughly +formed at this time of day—and get me to protest +against the tyranny of the male sex. I didn’t see that +the male sex was troublin’ her much; but I signed a +petition she got up to send to the Governor or somebody, +asking for the right to vote. There was an +opposition society that didn’t want the ballot, and +they got up another petition.”</p> +<p>“And you signed that too, I expect,” laughed Donald.</p> +<p>“Sure thing, I did. I’m not narrow-minded, and +I like to be obliging. Then she tried what she called +slummin’, which, as near as I can see, means walkin’ +in where you ’aint wanted, because people are poorer +than you are, and leavin’ little tracts that nobody +reads, and currant jelly that nobody eats, and clothes +that nobody can wear. But an Irishman shied a cabbage +at her head while she was tryin’ to convince him +that the bath-tub wasn’t really a coal bin, and that +his mental attitude was hindside before.</p> +<p>“Then she got to be a Theosophist, and used to +sit in her room upstairs projecting her astral body +out of the window into the back yard, and pulling it +in again like a ball on a rubber string—just for practice, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_48' name='page_48'></a>48</span> +you know. But that attack didn’t last long.”</p> +<p>“She seems to be a very versatile young woman; +but she doesn’t stick to one thing very long.”</p> +<p>“A rolling stone gathers no moss, you know,” Mrs. +Burke replied. “That’s one of the advantages of +bein’ a rolling stone. It must be awful to get mossy; +and there isn’t any moss on Virginia Bascom, whatever +faults she may have—not a moss.”</p> +<p>For a moment Mrs. Burke was silent, and then +she began:</p> +<p>“Once Virginia got to climbin’ her family tree, to +find out where her ancestors came from. She thought +that possibly they might be noblemen. But I guess +there wasn’t very much doin’ up the tree until she got +down to New York, and paid a man to tell her. She +brought back an illuminated coat of arms with a lion +rampantin’ on top; but she was the same old Virginia +still. What do I care about my ancestors! It doesn’t +make no difference to me. I’m just myself anyway, +no matter how you figure; and I’m a lot more worried +about where I’m goin’ to, than where I came +from. Virginia’s got a book called ‘Who’s Who,’ +that she’s always studying. But the only thing that +matters, it seems to me, is Who’s What.”</p> +<p>“I wonder she hasn’t married,” remarked Donald, +innocently. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_49' name='page_49'></a>49</span></p> +<p>“Ah, that’s the trouble. She’s like a thousand +others without no special occupation in life. She’s +wastin’ a lot of bottled up interest and sympathy on +foolish things. If she’d married and had seven babies, +they would have seen to it that she didn’t make a +fool of herself. However, it isn’t her fault. She’s +volunteered to act as Deaconess to every unmarried +parson we’ve had; and it’s a miracle of wonders one +of ’em didn’t succumb; parsons are such—oh, do excuse +me! I mean so injudicious on the subject of +matrimony.”</p> +<p>“But, Mrs. Burke, don’t you think a clergyman +ought to be a married man?”</p> +<p>“Well, to tell you the truth, t’aint me that’s been +doin’ the thinkin’ along those lines, for most of the +parsons we’ve had. I’ve been more of a first aid to +the injured, in the matrimonial troubles of our parish, +and the Lord only knows when love-making has +got as far as actual injury to the parties engaged,—well +thinkin’ ’aint much use. But there’s Ginty for +example. She’s been worryin’ herself thin for the +last five years, doin’ matrimonial equations for the +clergy. She’s a firm believer in the virtue of patience, +and if the Lord only keeps on sendin’ us +unmarried rectors, Ginty is goin’ to have her day. +It’s just naturally bound to come. I ’aint sure whether +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_50' name='page_50'></a>50</span> +she’s got a right to be still runnin’ with the lambs or +not, but that don’t matter much,—old maids will +rush in where angels fear to tread.”</p> +<p>Maxwell smiled. “Old maids, and old bachelors, +are pretty much alike. I know a few of the latter, +that no woman on earth could make into regular +human beings.”</p> +<p>“Oh, yes; old bachelors aren’t the nicest thing the +Lord ever made. Most of ’em are mighty selfish +critters, take ’em as they run; and a man that’s never +had a real great love in his life doesn’t know what +life is.”</p> +<p>“That’s quite true,” Donald responded, with such +warmth that Mrs. Burke glanced at him suspiciously, +and changed her tune, as she continued:</p> +<p>“Seems to me a parson, or any other man, is very +foolish to marry before he can support a wife comfortably, +and lay by somethin’ for a rainy day, though. +The last rector had five babies and seventeen cents +to feed ’em with. Yes, there were little olive branches +on all four sides of the table, and under the table too. +The Whittimores seemed to have their quiver full of +’em, as the psalmist says. Mrs. Whittimore used to +say to me, ‘The Lord will provide,’—just to keep her +courage up, poor thing! Well, I suppose the Lord +did provide; but I had to do a lot of hustlin’, just +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_51' name='page_51'></a>51</span> +the same. No sir, if a parson marries, he better find +a woman who has outgrown her short skirts. Young +things dyin’ to be martyrs with a good lookin’ young +parson, are a drug in the market. Better go slow.” +And Hepsey looked up at him significantly.</p> +<p>“Then you think it would be inadvisable to propose +to Miss Virginia immediately, do you?” Donald +asked, as if humbly seeking guidance.</p> +<p>“Well, there doesn’t seem to be any immediate +hurry about it. Now if you’ll open the gate to Thunder +Cliff, I’ll be much obliged to you. If I don’t get +my mind on something less romantic than Virginia, +we shall have to dine off airy fancies—and that won’t +suit Nickey, for one.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch4.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 378px; height: 323px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_52' name='page_52'></a>52</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IV_MILKING' id='CHAPTER_IV_MILKING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IV</h2> +<h3>MILKING</h3> +</div> +<p>Betty, my love:</p> +<p>I can imagine that just about this time you +have finished your dinner, and are enjoying +your after-dinner coffee in the library with your +father. I would give all that I possess, though +heaven knows that is mighty little, to be with you +and get you to talk to me, and let me tell you all that +has happened since I left you. But instead of that I +am alone in my room with your picture on the table +while I write, and it is the middle of the evening with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_53' name='page_53'></a>53</span> +us on the farm. I have a bright wood fire on the +hearth, as it’s a bit chilly to-night.</p> +<p>To-day I have almost completed my first round of +parish visits, and the experience has been a revelation +to me of the mixture of pathetic narrowness, hardship, +and self-denial of the people up here in the +mountains. One minute I am all out of patience with +their stupidity, and the next I am touched to the heart +by their patience with unendurable conditions, and +their generosity and kindness to each other. I hope +to be able to adjust my mental equilibrium to the situation +before long and to learn to understand them +better; I find that a country parson must be a man +of many accomplishments, and that I have to learn +my profession all over again. Yesterday I called on +a poor shriveled old woman who, I was told, was in +trouble. When I asked her what I could do for her, +she brightened up and informed me that her apple +trees were full of worms! So there was nothing for +it but to take off my coat and vest, roll up my sleeves, +and burn out the worms. I must have destroyed +about a bushel, more or less. It took most of the +afternoon; but she was pleased, and appeared in +church this morning for the first time in six years.</p> +<p>I have learned a lot about the rotation of crops, +helped to dig a well, and attended a barn dance. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_54' name='page_54'></a>54</span> +have eaten pickles by the score at teas given in my +honor, rather than offend the hostess; and have had +horrible nights in consequence. Every morning +Nickey and I take the milk down to the creamery before +breakfast. I am so tanned that you would hardly +recognize me; and I must confess with shame that I +am never more happy than when I am able to put on +my soiled working clothes and do manual labor on +the farm. I suppose it is the contrast to my former +life, and the fact that it takes my thoughts away from +the longing for you.</p> +<p>The men up here seem to think I know mighty little. +It’s very humiliating! But since they discovered +that I am neither “’ristocratic” nor “pious,” they +seem to be friendly enough. I often find myself wondering +if much of the work in the seminary wasn’t a +sheer waste of time, when I am brought up against +the practical, commonplace, everyday life of these +people. My friend Mrs. Burke has a fund of common +sense and worldly wisdom which is worth more +than any Ph.D. or S.T.D. represents, to help a man +to meet the hard facts of life successfully; and she +has been very nice and considerate in making suggestions +to me—always wrapped up in a humor all +her own. I have found it practically impossible to +get into touch with the farmers of the neighborhood +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_55' name='page_55'></a>55</span> +without becoming more or less of a farmer myself, +and learning by actual experience what the life is like. +One man was so openly supercilious when he found +out that I did not know how to milk, that Mrs. Burke, +who is nothing if not practical, offered to show +me.</p> +<p>I have acquired a suit of overalls, and a wide-brimmed +straw hat; and so, attiring myself in the +most orthodox fashion, Mrs. Burke and I went to +the shed yesterday where Louise, the Jersey cow, +abides, and I took my first lesson in milking. Mrs. +Burke carefully explained to me the <i>modus operandi</i> +I was to pursue; and so, taking the tin pail between +my knees, I seated myself on the three-legged stool +by the side of Louise, and timidly began operations. +She seemed to know by some bovine instinct that I +was a tenderfoot; and although I followed Mrs. +Burke’s instructions to the letter, no milk put in its +appearance. Mrs. Burke was highly amused at my +perplexity. Finally she remarked:</p> +<p>“You’ve got to introduce yourself, and get Louise’s +confidence before she’ll give down. She thinks that +you are too familiar on a short acquaintance. Now +talk to her a bit, and be friendly.”</p> +<p>This was somewhat of a poser, as Louise and I +really have not much in common, and I was at a loss +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_56' name='page_56'></a>56</span> +where to begin. But something had to be done, and +so I made a venture and remarked:</p> +<p>“Louise, the wind is in the south; and if it doesn’t +change, we shall certainly have rain within three +days.”</p> +<p>This did not seem to have the desired effect. In +fact, she ignored my remark in the most contemptuous +fashion. Then Mrs. Burke suggested:</p> +<p>“Get up, and come round where she can see you. +No lady wants to be talked to by a gentleman that’s +out of sight.”</p> +<p>So I got up and went around by her head, fed her +some clover, patted her on the neck, rubbed her nose, +and began a little mild, persuasive appeal:</p> +<p>“Louise, I am really a man of irreproachable character. +I am a son of the Revolution; I held three +scholarships in Harvard; and I graduated second in +my class at the General Sem. Furthermore, I’m not +at all accustomed to being snubbed by ladies. Can’t +you make up your mind to be obliging?”</p> +<p>Louise sniffed at me inquiringly, gazing at me with +large-eyed curiosity. Then as if in token that she +had come to a favorable conclusion, she ran out her +tongue and licked my hand. When I resumed operations, +the milk poured into the pail, and Mrs. Burke +was just congratulating me on my complete success, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_57' name='page_57'></a>57</span> +when, by some accident the stool slipped, and I fell +over backwards, and the whole contents of the pail +was poured on the ground. My! but wasn’t I disgusted? +I thought Mrs. Burke would never stop +laughing at me; but she was good enough not to allude +to the loss of the milk!</p> +<p>Some day when we are married, and you come up +here, I will take you out and introduce you to Louise, +and she will fall in love with you on the spot.</p> +<p>My most difficult task is my Senior Warden—and +it looks as if he <i>would not</i> make friends, do what I +will to “qualify” according to his own expressed notions +of what a country parson should be. But I +rather suspect that he likes to keep the scepter in his +own hands, while the clergy do his bidding. But that +won’t do for me.</p> +<p>So you see the life up here is interesting from its +very novelty, though I do get horribly lonesome, +sometimes. If I had not pledged myself to the +Bishop to stay and work the parish together into +something like an organization, I am afraid I should +be tempted to cut and run—back to you, sweetheart.</p> +<p>And there was a post script:</p> +<p>“I’ve not said half enough of how much Mrs. +Burke’s wisdom has taught and helped me. She is +a shrewd observer of human motives, and I expect +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_58' name='page_58'></a>58</span> +she has had a struggle to keep the sweetness of her +nature at the top. She is, naturally, a capable, dominating +character; and often I watch how she forces +herself to let persuasiveness take precedence of combativeness. +Her acquired philosophy, as applied to +herself and others, is summed up in a saying she let +drop the other day, modified to suit her needs: ‘More +flies are caught with molasses than with vinegar—but +keep some vinegar by you!’ <i>Verb. Sap.!</i>”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch5.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 365px; height: 333px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_59' name='page_59'></a>59</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_V_THE_MINIATURE' id='CHAPTER_V_THE_MINIATURE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER V</h2> +<h3>THE MINIATURE</h3> +</div> +<p>It happened that the Reverend Donald Maxwell +committed a careless indiscretion. When he +went to his room to prepare for supper, he found +that he had left the miniature of a certain young lady +on the mantelpiece, having forgotten to return it to +its hiding-place the night before. He quickly placed +it in its covering and locked it up in his desk, but not +without many misgivings at the thought that Mrs. +Burke had probably discovered it when she put his +room in order. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_60' name='page_60'></a>60</span></p> +<p>He was quite right in his surmise, for just as she +was about to leave the room she had caught sight of +the picture, and, after examining it carefully, she had +exclaimed to herself:</p> +<p>“Hm! Hm! So that’s the young woman, is it? +In a gilded frame set with real glass rubies and turquoises. +I guessed those letters couldn’t come from +his mother. She wouldn’t write to him every blessed +day; she’d take a day off now and then, just to rest +up a bit. Well, well, well! So this is what you’ve +been dreaming about; and a mighty good thing too—only +the sooner it’s known the better. But I suppose +I’ll have to wait for his reverence to inform me officially, +and then I’ll have to look mighty surprised! +She’s got a good face, anyway; but he ought to wait +awhile. Poor soul! she’d just die of loneliness up +here. Well, I suppose it’ll be my business to look +after her, and I reckon I’d best take time by the fetlock, +and get the rectory in order. It isn’t fit for rats +to live in now.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke’s discovery haunted her all day long, +and absorbed her thoughts when she went to bed. If +Maxwell was really engaged to be married, she did +not see why he did not announce the fact, and have it +over with. She had to repeat her prayers three times +before she could keep the girl in the gilt frame out +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_61' name='page_61'></a>61</span> +of them; and she solved the problem by praying that +she might not make a fool of herself.</p> +<p>The next morning she went over to Jonathan Jackson’s +house to see what her friend and neighbor, the +Junior Warden, would say about the matter. He +could be trusted to keep silent and assist her to carry +out some provisional plans. She knew exactly what +she wished and what she intended to do; but she imagined +that she wanted the pleasure of hearing some +one tell her that she was exactly right.</p> +<p>Jonathan Jackson was precisely the person to satisfy +the demand, as his deceased wife had never allowed +him to have any opinion for more than fifteen +minutes at a time—if it differed from hers; and when +she had made a pretense of consulting him, he had +learned by long experience to hesitate for a moment, +look judicially wise, and then repeat her suggestions +as nearly as he could remember them. So Jonathan +made a most excellent friend and neighbor, when +any crisis or emergency called for an expert opinion.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke had been an intimate friend of Sarah +Jackson, and just before Mrs. Jackson died she made +Hepsey promise that after she was gone she would +keep a friendly eye on Jonathan, and see that he did +not get into mischief, or let the house run down, or +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_62' name='page_62'></a>62</span> +“live just by eatin’ odds and ends off the pantry shelf +any old way.” Mrs. Jackson entertained no illusions +in regard to her husband, and she trusted Hepsey +implicitly. So, after Mrs. Jackson’s mortal departure, +Hepsey made periodic calls on Jonathan, which +always gave him much pleasure until she became inquisitive +about his methods of housekeeping; then +he would grow reticent.</p> +<p>“Good morning, Jonathan,” Hepsey called, as she +presented herself at the woodshed door, where she +caught Jonathan mending some of his underclothes +laboriously.</p> +<p>“Well, I declare,” she continued, “I’m blessed if +you ’aint sewin’ white buttons on with black thread. +Is anybody dead in the family, or ’aint you feelin’ well +as to your head this mornin’?”</p> +<p>His voice quavered with mingled embarrassment +and resentment as he replied:</p> +<p>“What difference does it make, Hepsey? It don’t +make no difference, as long as nobody don’t see it but +me.”</p> +<p>“And why in the name of conscience don’t you get +a thimble, Jonathan? The idea of your stickin’ the +needle in, and then pressin’ it against the chair to +make it go through. If that ’aint just like a helpless +man, I wouldn’t say.”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_2' id='linki_2'></a> +<img src='images/illus-062.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 377px; height: 572px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 377px;'> +“I’M BLESSED IF YOU ’AINT SEWIN’ WHITE BUTTONS ON WITH BLACK THREAD. IS ANYBODY DEAD IN THE FAMILY, OR ’AINT YOU FEELIN’ WELL THIS MORNIN’?”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_63' name='page_63'></a>63</span></div> +<p>“Well, of course sewin’ ’aint just a man’s business, +anyway; and when he has just got to do it––”</p> +<p>“Why don’t you let Mary McGuire do it for you? +You pay her enough, certainly, to keep you from becomin’ +a buttonless orphan.”</p> +<p>Mary McGuire, be it said, was the woman who +came in by the day, and cooked for Jonathan, and +intermittently cleaned him out of house and home.</p> +<p>“She don’t know much about such things,” replied +Jonathan confidentially. “I did let her do it for a +while; but when my buttonholes got tore larger, instead +of sewin’ ’em up, she just put on a larger button; +and I’d be buttonin’ my pants with the covers of +saucepans by now, if I’d let her go on.”</p> +<p>“It is curious what helpless critters men are, specially +widowers. Now Jonathan, why don’t you lay +aside your sewin’, and invite me into your parlor? +You aren’t a bit polite.”</p> +<p>“Well, come along then, Hepsey; but the parlor +aint just in apple-pie order, as you might say. Things +are mussed up a bit.” He looked at her suspiciously.</p> +<p>When they entered the parlor Mrs. Burke gazed +about in a critical sort of way.</p> +<p>“Jonathan Jackson, if you don’t get married again +before long I don’t know what’ll become of you,” she +remarked, as she wrote her name with the end of her +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_64' name='page_64'></a>64</span> +finger in the dust on the center-table. “Why don’t +you open the parlor occasionally and let the air in? +It smells that musty in here I feel as if I was attendin’ +your wife’s funeral all over again.”</p> +<p>“Well, of course you know we never did use the +parlor much, ’cept there was a funeral in the family, +or you called, or things like that.”</p> +<p>“Thank <i>you</i>; but even so, you might put things +away occasionally, and not leave them scattered all +over the place.”</p> +<p>“What’s the use? I never can find anything when +it’s where it belongs; but if it’s left just where I drop +it, I know right where it is when I want it.”</p> +<p>“That’s a man’s argument. Sakes alive! The +least you could do would be to shut your bureau drawers.”</p> +<p>“What’s the use shuttin’ bureau drawers when +you’ve got to open ’em again ’fore long?” Jonathan +asked. “It just makes so much more trouble; and +there’s trouble enough in this world, anyway.”</p> +<p>“You wouldn’t dare let things go like this when +Sarah was livin’.”</p> +<p>“No,” Jonathan replied sadly, “but there’s some +advantages in bein’ a widower. Of course I don’t +mean no disrespect to Sarah, but opinions will differ +about some things. She’d never let me go up the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_65' name='page_65'></a>65</span> +front stairs without takin’ my boots off, so as not to +soil the carpet; and when she died and the relatives +tramped up and down reckless like, I almost felt as +if it was wicked. For a fact, I did.”</p> +<p>“Well, I always told Sarah she was a slave to dust; +I believe that dust worried her a lot more than her +conscience, poor soul. I should think that Mary McGuire +would tidy up for you a little bit once in a +while.”</p> +<p>“Well, Mary does the best she knows how. But I +like her goin’ better than comin’. The fact is, a man +of my age can’t live alone always, Hepsey. It’s a +change to live this way, till––”</p> +<p>“Oh, heaven save the mark! I can’t stay here talkin’ +all day; but I’ll tidy up a bit before I go, if you +don’t mind, Jonathan. You go on with what you call +your sewin’.”</p> +<p>“Go ahead, Hepsey. You can do anything you +like,” he replied, beaming upon her.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke opened the blinds and windows, shook +up the pillows on the lounge, straightened the furniture, +dusted off the chairs and opened the door to the +porch. She made a flying trip to the garden, and returned +with a big bunch of flowers which she placed +in a large glass vase on the mantel. Then she hung +Jonathan’s dressing gown over the back of a chair, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_66' name='page_66'></a>66</span> +and put his slippers suggestively near at hand. In a +few moments she had transformed the whole appearance +of the room, giving it a look of homelike coziness +which had long been foreign to it.</p> +<p>“There now, Jonathan! That’s better, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>Jonathan sighed profoundly as he replied:</p> +<p>“It certainly is, Hepsey; it certainly is. I wonder +why a man can’t do that kind of thing like a woman +can? He knows somethin’s wrong, but he can’t tell +what it is.”</p> +<p>Hepsey had almost forgotten her errand; but now +that her work was done it came back to her with sudden +force; so, puckering up her lips and scowling +severely at the carpet, she began:</p> +<p>“The fact is, Jonathan, I didn’t come over here to +dust the parlor or to jolly you. I’ve come to have a +confidential talk with you about a matter of great importance.”</p> +<p>“What is it, Hepsey?”</p> +<p>“Matrimony.”</p> +<p>Jonathan started eagerly, and colored with self-conscious +embarrassment; and after clearing his +throat, nervously inquired:</p> +<p>“Did you think of contemplatin’ matrimony again, +Hepsey?—though this ’aint leap year.”</p> +<p>“I, contemplate matrimony? Oh, land of Gideon, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_67' name='page_67'></a>67</span> +<i>no</i>. It’s about some one else. Don’t get scared. I’m +no kidnapper!”</p> +<p>“Well, who is it, then?” Jonathan inquired, with a +touch of disappointment.</p> +<p>“My adopted son.”</p> +<p>“You don’t say! I’ve heard rumors about Maxwell +and Virginia Bascom; but I didn’t take no stock +in ’em, knowin’ Virginia.”</p> +<p>“Virginia hasn’t nothin’ to do with it.”</p> +<p>“Well, who has then, for land’s sake!”</p> +<p>“I don’t know the girl’s name; but I saw her picture +on his mantelpiece yesterday mornin’, and I’ve +had my suspicions for some time.”</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose his marryin’ ’aint none of our +business anyway, be it?”</p> +<p>“Yes, it is our business; if he’s goin’ to get married, +the rectory’s got to be fixed over a whole lot +’fore it’s fit to live in. You know the Senior Warden +won’t lift his finger, and you’ve got to help me do it.”</p> +<p>Jonathan sighed profoundly, knowing from past +experience that Hepsey’s word carried more weight +than all the vestry.</p> +<p>“I suppose I have, if you say so, Hepsey.”</p> +<p>“Yes sir, you’ve got to help me do it. No decent +girl is goin’ into that house as it is, with my consent. +It’s the worst old rat-trap I ever saw. I’ve got the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_68' name='page_68'></a>68</span> +key, and I’m goin’ through it this afternoon, and then +I’m goin’ to plan what ought to be done.”</p> +<p>“But it seems to me you’re venturin’ some. You +don’t <i>know</i> they’re goin’ to be married.”</p> +<p>“No, but all the symptoms point that way, and +we’ve got to be prepared for it.”</p> +<p>“But the people round town seem to think that +Virginia has a first mortgage on the rector already.”</p> +<p>“No doubt <i>she</i> thinks she has; but it ’aint true. +He’s made a blunder, though, not announcin’ his engagement, +and I’m goin’ to tell him so the first chance +I get. I don’t see why he should air his private affairs +all over the town, but if he don’t announce his engagement +before long, Virginia Bascom’ll make an +awful row when he does.”</p> +<p>“Yes, and to the best of my knowledge and belief +this’ll be her fifth row.”</p> +<p>“Well, you meet me at the rectory at two o’clock +sharp.”</p> +<p>“But we ought to consult the vestry first,” the +Junior Warden cautioned her.</p> +<p>“What for, I’d like to know?”</p> +<p>“’Cause they are the trustees of the property.”</p> +<p>“Then why don’t they ’tend to the property? The +vestry are a lot of––” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_69' name='page_69'></a>69</span></p> +<p>“Sh! Hepsey, be careful. I’ll be there, I’ll be +there!”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke rose and started for the door; but Jonathan +called out to her:</p> +<p>“Hepsey, can’t you stay to dinner? I’d like awful +well to have you. It would seem so nice and homelike +to see you sittin’ opposite me at the table.”</p> +<p>“Am I to consider this a proposal of marriage, +Jonathan?”</p> +<p>“Well, I hadn’t thought of it in that light; but if +<i>you</i> would, I’d be mighty thankful.”</p> +<p>But Hepsey was beating her retreat.</p> +<p>Jonathan stood for a minute or two in the middle +of the room and looked very sober. Slowly he took +off his coat and put on his dressing gown. Then he +sat down, and cautiously put his feet in another chair. +Next he lighted a cigar—gazing about the room as if +his late wife might appear at any moment as an avenging +deity, and drag him into the kitchen where he belonged. +But nothing happened, and he began to feel +a realization of his independence. He sat and thought +for a long time, and a mighty hunger of the heart +overwhelmed him. Before he knew it, a tear or two +had fallen on the immaculate carpet; and then, suddenly +recollecting himself, he stood up, saying to himself—such +is the consistency of man: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_70' name='page_70'></a>70</span></p> +<p>“Sarah was a good soul accordin’ to her lights; but +she’s dead, and I must confess I’m powerful reconciled. +Hepsey Burke’s different. I wonder if––”</p> +<p>But he put he thought away from him with a “get +thee behind me” abruptness, and putting on his coat, +went out to water the stock.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch6.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 374px; height: 339px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_71' name='page_71'></a>71</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VI_THE_MISSIONARY_TEA' id='CHAPTER_VI_THE_MISSIONARY_TEA'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VI</h2> +<h3>THE MISSIONARY TEA</h3> +</div> +<p>“Hm!” Mrs. Burke remarked to Maxwell +abruptly one day during supper. “We +haven’t had a missionary tea since you +came, and I think it’s high time we did.”</p> +<p>“What sort of a missionary tea do you mean?” +the parson inquired.</p> +<p>“Well,” Mrs. Burke responded, “our missionary +teas combine different attractions. We get together +and look over each other’s clothes; that’s the first +thing; then some one reads a paper reportin’ how +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_72' name='page_72'></a>72</span> +things is goin’ in Zanzibar, or what’s doin’ in Timbuctoo. +Then we look over the old clothes sent in +for missionaries, mend ’em up, and get ’em ready to +send off. Then we have tea and cake. I’ve had my +misgivin’ for some time that perhaps we cared more +for the tea and cake than we did for the heathen; but +of course I put such a wicked thought aside. If you +value your reputation for piety, don’t you ever speak +of a missionary tea here except in a whisper.”</p> +<p>“But I suppose the tea helps to get people together +and be more sociable?”</p> +<p>“Certainly. The next best thing to religion is a +cup of strong tea and a frosted cake, to make us +country people friends. Both combined can’t be beat. +But you ought to see the things that have been sent +in this last week for the missionary box. There’s a +smoking jacket, two pairs of golf-trousers, several +pairs of mismated gloves, a wonderful lot of undarned +stockings, bonnets and underclothes to burn, +two jackets and a bathin’ suit. I wonder what people +think missionaries are doin’ most of the time!”</p> +<p>On the day appointed for the missionary tea the +ladies were to assemble at Thunder Cliff at four +o’clock; and when Maxwell came home, before the +advent of the first guest, he seemed somewhat depressed; +and Mrs. Burke inquired: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_73' name='page_73'></a>73</span></p> +<p>“Been makin’ calls on your parishioners?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I have made a few visits.”</p> +<p>“Now you must look more cheerful, or somebody’ll +suspect that you don’t always find parish calls the joy +of your life.”</p> +<p>“It’s so difficult to find subjects of conversation +that they are interested in. I simply couldn’t draw +out Mrs. Snodgrass, for instance.”</p> +<p>“Well, when you’ve lived in the country as long as +I have, you’ll find that the one unfailin’ subject of +interest is symptoms—mostly dyspepsy and liver complaint. +If you had known enough to have started +right with Elmira Snodgrass, she would have thawed +out at once. Elmira is always lookin’ for trouble as +the sparks fly upwards, or thereabouts. She’d crawl +through a barbed wire fence if she couldn’t get at it +any other way. She always chews a pill on principle, +and then she calls it a dispensation of Providence, +and wonders why she was ever born to be tormented.”</p> +<p>“In that case,” laughed Maxwell, “I’d better get +some medical books and read up on symptoms. By +the by, is there any particular program for this missionary +meeting, Mrs. Burke?”</p> +<p>“Yes, Virginia Bascom’s goin’ to read a paper +called ‘The Christian Mother as a Missionary in her +own Household.’ To be sure, Ginty’s no Christian +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_74' name='page_74'></a>74</span> +Mother, or any other kind of a mother; but she’s as +full of enthusiasm as a shad is of bones. She’d bring +up any child while you wait, and not charge a cent. +There goes the bell, so please excuse me.”</p> +<p>The guests were received by Mrs. Burke. Miss +Bascom entered the parlor with a portentous bundle +of manuscript under her arm, and greeted Donald +with a radiant smile. Pulling a pansy from a bunch +in her dress, she adjusted it in his buttonhole with the +happy shyness of a young kitten chasing its tail. After +the others had assembled, they formed a circle to inspect +the clothing which had been sent in. There +was a general buzz of conversation.</p> +<p>As they were busily going through the garments, +Virginia remarked, “Are all these things to go to the +missionaries at Tien Tsin?” and she adjusted her +lorgnette to inspect the heap.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Mrs. Burke responded wearily, “and I hope +they’ll get what comfort they can out of ’em.”</p> +<p>“You don’t seem to be very appreciative, Mrs. +Burke,” Virginia reproved.</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose I ought to be satisfied,” Hepsey +replied. “But it does seem as if most people give to +the Lord what they can’t use for themselves any +longer—as they would to a poor relation that’s +worthy, but not to be coddled by too much charity.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_75' name='page_75'></a>75</span></p> +<p>“I think these things are quite nice enough for the +missionaries,” Virginia retorted. “They are thankful +for anything.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I know,” Mrs. Burke replied calmly. “Missionaries +and their families have no business to have +any feelings that can’t be satisfied with second-hand +clothes, and no end of good advice on how to spend +five cents freely but not extravagantly.”</p> +<p>“But don’t you believe in sending them useful +things?” Virginia asked loftily.</p> +<p>“So I do; but I’d hate that word ‘useful’ if I was +a missionary’s wife.”</p> +<p>“Might I inquire,” asked Miss Bascom meekly, +“what you would send?”</p> +<p>“Certainly! I’d send a twenty-five-cent scent bag, +made of silk and filled with patchouli-powder,” said +Hepsey, squarely.</p> +<p>“Well,” Virginia added devoutly, “satchet bags +may be well enough in their place; but they won’t feed +missionaries, or clothe them, or save souls, you know, +Mrs. Burke.”</p> +<p>“Did anybody say they would?” Mrs. Burke inquired. +“I shouldn’t particularly care to see missionaries +clothed in sachet bags myself; the smell might +drive the heathen to desperation. But do we always +limit our spending money to necessary clothes and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_76' name='page_76'></a>76</span> +food? The truth is, we all of us spend anything we +like as long as it goes on our backs, or down our +throats; but the moment it comes to supportin’ +missionaries we think ’em worldly and graspin’ +if they show any ambition beyond second-hand +clothes.”</p> +<p>“Do you live up to your preachin’, Mrs. Burke?” +a little sallow-faced woman inquired from a dark corner +of the room.</p> +<p>“Oh, no; it hits me just as hard as anybody else, +as Martin Luther said. But I’ve got a proposition +to make: if you’ll take these things you brought, back +with you, and wear ’em for a week just as they are, +and play you’re the missionaries, I’ll take back all +I’ve said.”</p> +<p>As, however, there was no response to this challenge, +the box was packed, and the cover nailed down.</p> +<p>(It is perhaps no proper part of this story to add, +that its opening on the other side of the world was +attended by the welcome and surprising fragrance of +patchouli, emanating from a little silk sachet secreted +among the more workaday gifts.)</p> +<p>The ladies then adjourned to the front piazza, +where the supper was served.</p> +<p>When the dishes had been cleared away, the guests +adjusted their chairs and assumed attitudes of expectant +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_77' name='page_77'></a>77</span> +attention while Virginia stood up and shyly +unrolled her manuscript, with a placid, self-conscious +smile on her countenance. She apologized for her +youth and inexperience, with a moving glance towards +her pastor, and then got down to business. She began +with the original and striking remark that it was the +chief glory and function of woman to be a home-maker. +She continued with something to the effect +that the woman who forms the character of her children +in the sanctity of the home-life rules the destinies +of the world. Then she made a fetching allusion to +the “Mother of the Gracchi,” and said something +about jewels. Nobody knew who the “Gracchi” were, +but they supposed that they must be some relatives +of Virginia’s who lived in Boston.</p> +<p>She asserted that the modern methods of bringing +up children were all wrong. She drew a striking picture +of the ideal home in which children always stood +modestly and reverently by their parents’ chairs, consumed +with anxiety to be of some service to their elders. +They were always to be immaculately neat in +their attire, and gentle in their ways. The use of +slang was quite beneath them.</p> +<p>These ideal children were always to spend their +evenings at home in the perusal of instructive books, +and the pursuit of useful knowledge. Then, when +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_78' name='page_78'></a>78</span> +half-past seven arrived, they were to rise spontaneously +and promptly, and bid their parents an affectionate +good-night, and retire to their rooms, where, +having said their prayers and recited the golden text, +they were to get into bed.</p> +<p>Portions of Virginia’s essay were quite moving. +Speaking of the rewards which good mothers reap, +in the virtues and graces of their dutiful offspring, she +said:</p> +<p>“What mother does not feel a thrill of exquisite +rapture as she fondly gazes into the depths of her +baby’s eyes and sees there the budding promise of +glorious womanhood. What mother does not watch +the development of her little son with wondering +pride, as she notes his manly, simple ways, his gentle +reverence, his tender, modest behavior. What mother––”</p> +<p>Here Virginia came to an abrupt stop, for there +was a terrible racket somewhere overhead on the +piazza roof; a rope was suddenly dropped over the +edge of the eaves, and almost immediately a pair of +very immodestly bare legs were lowered into view, +followed by the rest of Nickey Burke’s person, attired +in his nightshirt. It was the work of a moment +for the nimble boy to slide down the rope onto the +ground. But, as he landed on his feet, finding himself +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_79' name='page_79'></a>79</span> +in the august presence of the missionary circle, he remarked +“Gee Whitaker bee’s wax!” and prudently +took to his heels, and sped around the house as if he +had been shot out of a gun.</p> +<p>Several segments of the circle giggled violently. +The essayist, though very red, made a brave effort to +ignore the highly indecorous interruption, and so continued +with trembling tones:</p> +<p>“What more beautiful and touching thing is there, +than the innocent, unsullied modesty of childhood? +One might almost say––”</p> +<p>But she never said it, for here again she was forced +to pause while another pair of immodest legs appeared +over the eaves, much fatter and shorter than +the preceding pair. These belonged to Nickey’s boon-companion, +the gentle Oliver Wendell Jones. The +rest of O. W. J. followed in due time; and, quite +ignorant of what awaited him, he began his wriggling +descent. Most unfortunately for him, the hem of +his nightshirt caught on a large nail in the eaves of +the roof; and after a frantic, fruitless, and fearful +effort to disconnect himself, he hung suspended in the +breeze for one awful moment, like a painted cherub +on a Christmas tree, while his mother, recognizing +her offspring, rose to go to his assistance.</p> +<p>Then there was a frantic yell, a terrible ripping +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_80' name='page_80'></a>80</span> +sound, and Oliver Wendell was seen to drop to the +ground clad in the sleeves and the front breadth of +his shirt, while the entire back of it, from the collar +down, waved triumphantly aloft from the eaves. +Oliver Wendell Jones picked himself up, unhurt, but +much frightened, and very angry: presenting much the +aspect of a punctured tire. Then suddenly discovering +the proximity of the missionary circle and missing +the rear elevation of his shirt about the same time, +in the horror and mortification of the moment, he lost +his head entirely. Notwithstanding the protests of +his pursuing mother, without waiting for his clothes, +he fled, “anywhere, anywhere out of the world,” +bawling with wrath and chagrin.</p> +<p>The entire circumference of the missionary circle +now burst into roars of laughter. His mother quickly +overtook and captured Oliver, tying her apron around +his neck as a concession to the popular prejudice +against “the altogether.” The gravity of the missionary +circle was so thoroughly demoralized that it +was impossible to restore order; and Miss Bascom, +in the excess of her mortification, stuffed the rest of +her manuscript, its eloquent peroration undelivered, +into her bag.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_3' id='linki_3'></a> +<img src='images/illus-081.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 351px; height: 581px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 351px;'> +“NICHOLAS BURKE, WHAT IN THE NAME OF CONSCIENCE DOES ALL THIS IDIOTIC PERFORMANCE MEAN, I’D LIKE TO KNOW?”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_81' name='page_81'></a>81</span></div> +<p>When the last guest had departed, Mrs. Burke +proceeded to hunt up Nickey, who was dressed and +sitting on the top of the corn-crib whittling a stick. +His mother began:</p> +<p>“Nicholas Burke, what in the name of conscience +does all this idiotic performance mean, I’d like to +know?”</p> +<p>Nickey closed his knife. Gazing serenely down at +his mother, he replied:</p> +<p>“How’d I know the blamed missionary push was +goin’ to meet on the front porch, I’d like to know? +Me and Oliver Wendell was just playin’ the house +was on fire. We’d gone to bed in the front room, and +then I told Ollie the fire was breakin’ out all around +us, and the sparks was flyin’, and the stairs was +burned away, and there was no way of ’scapin’ but +to slide down the rope over the roof. I ’aint to blame +for his nightshirt bein’ caught on a nail, and bein’ +ripped off him. Maybe the ladies was awful shocked; +but they laughed fit to split their sides just the same. +Mr. Maxwell laughed louder than ’em all.”</p> +<p>Hepsey retired hastily, lest her face should relax +its well-assumed severity.</p> +<p>Maxwell, in the meantime, felt it a part of his duty +to console and soothe the ruffled feelings of his zealous +and fluent parishioner, and to Virginia’s pride his +offer of escort to Willow Bluff was ample reparation +for the untoward interruption of her oratory. She +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_82' name='page_82'></a>82</span> +delivered into his hands, with sensitive upward glance, +the receptacle containing her manuscript, and set a +brisk pace, at which she insured the passing of the +other guests along the road, making visible her triumph +over circumstance and at the same time obviating +untimely intrusion of a tete-a-tete conversation.</p> +<p>“You must have given a great deal of time and +study to your subject,” remarked Maxwell politely.</p> +<p>“It is very near to my heart,” responded Virginia, +in welling tones. “Home-life is, to me, almost a religion. +Do you not feel, with me, that it is the most +valuable of human qualities, Mr. Maxwell?”</p> +<p>“I do indeed, and one of the most difficult to reduce +to a science,”—she glanced up at him apprehensively, +whereupon, lest he seemed to have erred in fact, +he added,—“as you made us realize in your +paper.”</p> +<p>“It is so nice to have your appreciation,” she gurgled. +“Often I feel it almost futile to try to influence +our cold parish audiences; their attitude is so +stolid, so unimaginative. As you must have realized, +in the pulpit, they are so hard to lead into untrodden +paths. Let us take the way home by the lane,” she +added coyly, leading off the road down a sheltered +by-way.</p> +<p>The lane was rough, and the lady, tightly and lightly +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_83' name='page_83'></a>83</span> +shod, stumbled neatly and grasped her escort’s arm +for support—and retained it for comfort.</p> +<p>“What horizons your sermons have spread before +us—and, yet,”—she hesitated,—“I often wonder, as +my eyes wander over the congregation, how many besides +myself, really hear your message, really see +what <i>you</i> see.”</p> +<p>Her hand trembled on his arm, and Maxwell was +a little at a loss, though anxious not to seem unresponsive +to Virginia’s enthusiasm for spiritual vision.</p> +<p>“I feel that my first attention has to be given to +the simpler problems, here in Durford,” he replied. +“But I am glad if I haven’t been dull, in the process.”</p> +<p>“Dull? No indeed—how can you say that! To +my life—you will understand?” (she glanced up with +tremulous flutter of eyelids) “—you have brought so +much helpfulness and—and warmth.” She sighed +eloquently.</p> +<p>Maxwell was no egotist, and was always prone to +see only an impersonal significance in parish compliments. +A more self-conscious subject for confidences +would have replied less openly.</p> +<p>“I am glad—very glad. But you must not think +that the help has been one-sided. You have seconded +my efforts so energetically—indeed I don’t know +what I could have accomplished without such whole-hearted +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_84' name='page_84'></a>84</span> +help as you and Mrs. Burke and others have +given.”</p> +<p>To the optimistic Virginia the division of the loaves +and fishes of his personal gratitude was scarcely heeded. +She cherished her own portion, and soon magnified +it to a basketful—and soon, again, to a monopoly +of the entire supply. As he gave her his hand at the +door of Willow Bluff, she was in fit state to invest +that common act of friendliness with symbolic significance +of a rosy future.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch7.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 374px; height: 330px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_85' name='page_85'></a>85</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VII_HEPSEY_GOES_AFISHING' id='CHAPTER_VII_HEPSEY_GOES_AFISHING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VII</h2> +<h3>HEPSEY GOES A-FISHING</h3> +</div> +<p>Mrs. Burke seemed incapable of sitting still, +with folded hands, for any length of time; +and when the stress of her attention to household +work, and her devotion to neighborly good deeds +relaxed, she turned to knitting wash-rags as a sportsman +turns to his gun, or a toper to his cups. She +seemed to find more stimulus for thought and more +helpful diversion in the production of one wash-rag +than most persons find in a trip abroad.</p> +<p>One day, not very long after the eventful missionary +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_86' name='page_86'></a>86</span> +tea, she was sitting in her garden, and knitting +more rapidly than usual, as she said to Maxwell:</p> +<p>“What’s been the matter with you these last few +weeks? You’ve been lookin’ altogether too sober, +and you don’t eat nothin’ to speak of. It must be +either liver, or conscience, or heart.”</p> +<p>Secretly, she strongly suspected a cardiac affection, +of the romantic variety. She intended to investigate.</p> +<p>Donald laughed as he replied:</p> +<p>“Perhaps it’s all three together; but I’m all right. +There’s nothing the matter with me. Every man has +his blue days, you know.”</p> +<p>“Yes, but the last month you’ve had too many; and +there must be some reason for it. There’s nothin’ so +refreshin’ as gettin’ away from your best friends, once +in a while. I guess you need a change—pinin’ for +the city, maybe. Sakes alive! I can’t see how folks +can live that way—all crowded up together, like a lot +of prisons.”</p> +<p>“You don’t care to visit in the city, then?”</p> +<p>“Not on your life!”</p> +<p>“But a change is good for everyone. Don’t you +ever get away from Durford for a few weeks?”</p> +<p>“Not very often. What with decidin’ where to go, +and fussin’ to get ready, and shuttin’ up the house, +it’s more trouble than its worth. Then there’s so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_87' name='page_87'></a>87</span> +many things to ’tend to when you get home.”</p> +<p>“But don’t you ever visit relatives?”</p> +<p>“Not on your life, unless I’m subpœna-ed by the +coroner: though of course we do get together to celebrate +a family funeral or a wedding now and then. +Visitin’ is no joke, I tell you. No sir, I’m old enough +to know when I’m well off, and home’s the best place +for me. I want my own table, and my own bed when +it comes night.” She paused, and then remarked meditatively:</p> +<p>“I went down to visit in New York once.”</p> +<p>“Didn’t you enjoy your visit?” Maxwell inquired. +“New York’s my home-city.”</p> +<p>“Can’t say I did, awful much. You see, I was +visitin’ Sally Ramsdale—Sally Greenway that was. +They were livin’ in an apartment, ninth floor up. In +the first place, I didn’t like goin’ up stairs in the elevator. +I was so scared, I felt as if the end had come, +and I was bein’ jerked to my reward in an iron birdcage +with a small kid dressed in brass buttons. When +I got into the hall it was about two feet wide and +darker than Pharaoh’s conscience. It had a string of +cells along the side, and one opened into a chimney, +and the rest into nothin’ in particular. The middle +cell was a dinin’ room where we ate when we could +find the way to our mouths. Near as I can recollect, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_88' name='page_88'></a>88</span> +you got into the parlor through the pantry, back of +the servant’s room, by jumpin’ over five trunks. You +ought to have seen my room. It looked just like a +parlor when you first went in. There was somethin’ +lookin’ like a cross between an upright piano and +writin’ desk. Sally gave it a twist, and it tumbled +out into a folding bed. The first night, I laid awake +with my eyes on the foot of that bed expectin’ it to +rise and stand me on my head; but it didn’t. You +took the book of poems off the center table, gave it a +flop, and it was a washstand. Everything seemed to +shut up into something else it hadn’t ought to. It +was a ‘now you see it, and now you don’t see it,’ kind +of a room; and I seemed to be foldin’ and unfoldin’ +most of the time. Then the ceilin’ was so low that +you could hardly get the cover off the soap dish. I +felt all the while as if I should smother. My! but +I was glad to get home and get a breath of real air.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Maxwell replied, “people live more natural +and healthful lives in the country. The advantages +of the city aren’t an unmixed blessing.”</p> +<p>“That’s true enough. That’s no way to live. Just +think of havin’ no yard but a window box and a fire +escape! I’d smother!</p> +<p>“We folks out here in the country ’aint enjoyin’ +a lot of the refinements of city life; anyhow we get +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_89' name='page_89'></a>89</span> +along, and the funny part about it is,—it ’aint hard +to do, either. In the first place we ’aint so particular, +which helps a lot, and besides, as Jonathan Jackson +used to say,—there’s compensations. I had one look +at Fifth Avenue and I’m not sayin’ it wasn’t all I +had heard it was; but if I had to look at it three +hundred and sixty-five days a year I wouldn’t trade it +for this.</p> +<p>“Why, some days it rains up here, but I can sit at +my window and look down the valley, to where the +creek runs through, and ’way up into the timber, and +the sight of all those green things, livin’ and noddin’ +in the rain is a long ways from being disheartenin’,—and +when the sun shines I can sit out here, in my +garden, with my flowers, and watch the boys playin’ +down in the meadow, Bascom’s Holsteins grazin’ +over there on the hill, and the air full of the perfume +of growin’ things,—they ’aint got anything like that, +in New York.”</p> +<p>For a time Mrs. Burke relapsed into silence, while +Maxwell smoked his briar pipe as he lay on the grass +near by. She realized that the parson had cleverly +side-tracked her original subject of conversation, and +as she glanced down at him she shook her head with +droll deprecation of his guile.</p> +<p>When she first accused him of the blues, it was +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_90' name='page_90'></a>90</span> +true that Maxwell’s look had expressed glum depression. +Now, he was smiling, and, balked of her prey, +Mrs. Burke knitted briskly, contemplating other +means drawing him from his covert. Her strategy +had been too subtle: she would try a frontal attack.</p> +<p>“Ever think of gettin’ married, Mr. Maxwell?” +she inquired abruptly.</p> +<p>For an instant Maxwell colored; but he blew two +or three rings of smoke in the air, and then replied +carelessly, as he plucked at the grass by his side:</p> +<p>“Oh, yes: every fellow of my age has fancied himself +in love some time or other, I suppose.”</p> +<p>“Yes, it’s like measles, or whoopin’-cough; every +man has to have it sometime; but you haven’t answered +my question.”</p> +<p>“Well, suppose I was in love; a man must be pretty +conceited to imagine that he could make up to a girl +for the sacrifice of bringing her to live in a place like +Durford. That sounds horribly rude to Durford, +but you won’t misunderstand me.”</p> +<p>“No; I know exactly how you feel; but the average +girl is just dyin’ to make a great sacrifice for some +good-lookin’ young fellow, all the same.”</p> +<p>“Ah yes; the <i>average</i> girl; but––”</p> +<p>Maxwell’s voice trailed off into silence, while he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_91' name='page_91'></a>91</span> +affected to gaze stonily into the blue deeps of the sky +overhead.</p> +<p>Hepsey had thought herself a pretty clever fisherman, +in her day; evidently, she decided, this particular +fish was not going to be easy to land.</p> +<p>“Don’t you think a clergyman is better off married?” +she asked, presently.</p> +<p>Donald knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put +it in his pocket, clasped his hands across his knees, +and smiled thoughtfully for a moment. There was +a light in his eyes which was good to see, and a slight +trembling of his lips before he ventured to speak. +Then he sighed heavily.</p> +<p>“Yes, I do, on many accounts. But I think that +any parson in a place like this ought to know and face +all the difficulties of the situation before he comes to +a definite decision and marries. Isn’t that your own +view? You’ve had experience of married parsons +here: what do you think?”</p> +<p>“Well, you see the matter is just like this: Every +parish wants an unmarried parson; the vestry ’cause +he’s cheap, every unmarried woman ’cause he may be +a possible suitor; and it’s easier to run him than it +is a married man. He may be decent, well-bred and +educated. And he comes to a parcel of ignoramuses +who think they know ten times as much as he does. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_92' name='page_92'></a>92</span> +If he can’t earn enough to marry on, and has the good +sense to keep out of matrimony, the people talk +about his bein’ a selfish old bachelor who neglects his +duty to society. He can’t afford to run a tumble-down +rectory like ours. If in the face of all this +he marries, he has to scrimp and stint until it is a +question of buyin’ one egg or two, and lettin’ his wife +worry and work until she’s fit for a lunatic asylum. +No business corporation, not even a milk-peddlin’ +trust, would treat its men so or expect good work +from ’em. Then the average layman seldom thinks +how he can help the parson. His one idea is to be a +kicker as long as he can think of anything to kick +about. The only man in this parish who never kicks +is paralyzed in both legs. Yes sir; the parson of the +country parish is the parish goat, as the sayin’ is.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke ceased her tirade, and after a while +Maxwell remarked quietly:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke, I’m afraid you are a pessimist.”</p> +<p>“I’m no such thing,” she retorted hotly. “A pessimist’s +a man that sees nothin’ but the bad, and says +there’s no help for it and won’t raise a hand: he’s a +proper sour-belly. An optimist’s a man that sees +nothin’ but the good, and says everything’s all right; +let’s have a good time. Poor fool! The practical +man—anyway, the practical woman—sees both the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_93' name='page_93'></a>93</span> +bad and the good, and says we can make things a +whole lot better if we try; let’s take off our coats and +hustle to beat the cars, and see what happens. The +real pessimists are your Bascoms, and that kind: +and I guess I pity him more than blame him: he seems +as lonesome as a tooth-pick in a cider-barrel.”</p> +<p>“But I thought that Bascom was a wealthy man. +He ought to be able to help out, and raise money +enough so that the town could keep a parson and his +wife comfortably.”</p> +<p>“Sure thing! But the church isn’t supported by +tight-fisted wealthy people. It’s the hard-workin’ +middle class who are willin’ to turn in and spend their +last cent for the church. And don’t you get me started +on Bascom as you value your life. Maybe I’ll +swear a blue streak before I get through: not but +what I suppose that even Bascom has his good points—like +a porcupine. But a little emery paper on Bascom’s +good points wouldn’t hurt ’em very much. +They’re awful rusty.”</p> +<p>“Oh well! Money isn’t all there is in life,” soothed +Maxwell, smiling.</p> +<p>“No, not quite; but it’s a mighty good thing to +have in the house. You’d think so if you had to wear +the same hat three summers. I’ve got to that time +in my life where I can get along very well without +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_94' name='page_94'></a>94</span> +most of the necessities; but I must have a few luxuries +to keep me goin’.”</p> +<p>“Then you think that a clergyman ought not to +marry and bring his wife to a place like Durford?”</p> +<p>“I didn’t say anything of the sort. If you was to +get married I’d see you through, if it broke my neck +or Bascom’s.”</p> +<p>“Do you know, you seem to me a bit illogical?” remarked +Maxwell mildly.</p> +<p>“Don’t talk to me about logic! The strongest argument +is often the biggest lie. There are times in your +life when you have to take your fate in both hands +and shut your eyes, and jump in the dark. Maybe +you’ll land on your feet, and maybe you—won’t. But +you have got to jump just the same. That’s matrimony—common +sense, idiocy, or whatever you +choose to call it.... I never could tell which. It’s +the only thing to do; and any man with a backbone +and a fist won’t hesitate very long. If you marry, I’ll +see you through; though of course you won’t stay here +long, anyhow.”</p> +<p>“You’re awfully kind, Mrs. Burke,” Maxwell replied, +“and I sha’n’t forget your promise—when the +time comes for me to take the momentous step. But +I think it would be the wisest thing for me to keep +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_95' name='page_95'></a>95</span> +my heart free for a while; or at any rate, not to get +married.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke looked down at her rector, and smiled +broadly at his clever evasion of the bait she had dangled +before him so persistently.</p> +<p>“Well, do as you like; but that reminds me that +when next you go to town you’ll need to get a new +glass for that miniature of your sister. You must +have dozed off with it in your hands last night and +dropped it. I found it this morning on the floor +alongside of your chair, with the glass broken.”</p> +<p>She rose triumphantly, as she knitted the last stitch +of the wash-rag. “Excuse me—I must go and peel +the potatoes for dinner.”</p> +<p>“I’d offer to contribute to the menu, by catching +some fish for you; but I don’t think it’s a very good +day for fishing, is it, Mrs. Burke?” asked Maxwell +innocently.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch8.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 376px; height: 337px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_96' name='page_96'></a>96</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_VIII_AN_ICEBOX_FOR_CHERUBIM' id='CHAPTER_VIII_AN_ICEBOX_FOR_CHERUBIM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER VIII</h2> +<h3>AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM</h3> +</div> +<p>As we have seen, when Maxwell began his work +in Durford, he was full of the enthusiasm of +youth and inexperience. He was, however, +heartily supported and encouraged in his efforts by +all but Sylvester Bascom. Without being actively and +openly hostile, the Senior Warden, under the guise of +superior wisdom and a judicial regard for expediency, +managed to thwart many of his projects. After each +interview with Bascom, Maxwell felt that every bit +of life and heart had been pumped out of him, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_97' name='page_97'></a>97</span> +that he was very young, and very foolish to attempt +to make any change in “the good old ways” of the +parish, which for so many years had stunted its +growth and had acquired the immobility of the laws +of the Medes and Persians.</p> +<p>But there was one parishioner who was ever ready +to suggest new ventures to “elevate” the people, and +to play the part of intimate friend and adviser to her +good-looking rector, and that was Virginia Bascom. +For some unknown reason “the people” did not seem +to be acutely anxious thus to be elevated; and most +of them seemed to regard Virginia as a harmless idiot +with good intentions, but with positive genius for +meddling in other people’s affairs. Being the only +daughter of the Senior Warden, and the leading lady +from a social standpoint, she considered that she had +a roving commission to set people right at a moment’s +notice; and there were comparatively few people in +Durford on whom she had not experimented in one +way or another. She organized a Browning club to +keep the factory girls out of the streets evenings, a +mothers’ meeting, an ethical culture society, and a +craftman’s club, and, as she was made president of +each, her time was quite well filled.</p> +<p>And now in her fertile brain dawned a brilliant idea, +which she proceeded to propound to the rector. Maxwell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_98' name='page_98'></a>98</span> +was non-committal, for he felt the matter was +one for feminine judgment. Then she decided to +consult Mrs. Burke—because, while Hepsey was “not +in society,” she was recognized as the dominant personality +among the women of the village, and no parish +enterprise amounted to much unless she approved +of it, and was gracious enough to assist. As Virginia +told Maxwell, “Mrs. Burke has a talent of +persuasiveness,” and so was “useful in any emergency.” +If Mrs. Burke’s sympathies could be enlisted +on behalf of the new scheme it would be bound +to succeed.</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, Mrs. Burke had heard rumors +of this new project of Virginia’s. It always went +against the grain with Hepsey to say: “Don’t do it.” +She was a firm believer in the teaching of experience: +“Experience does it,” was her translation of +the classic adage.</p> +<p>And so one morning found Virginia sitting opposite +Mrs. Burke in the kitchen at Thunder Cliff, knitting +her brows and poking the toe of her boot with +the end of her parasol in an absent-minded way. This +was symptomatic.</p> +<p>“Anything on your mind, Virginia? What’s up +now?” Mrs. Burke began.</p> +<p>For a moment Virginia hesitated, and then replied: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_99' name='page_99'></a>99</span></p> +<p>“I am thinking of establishing a day-nursery to +care for the babies of working women, Mrs. +Burke.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke, with hands on her hips, gazed intently +at her visitor, pushed up her under lip, scowled, +and then observed thoughtfully:</p> +<p>“I wonder some one hasn’t thought of that before. +Who’s to take care of the babies?”</p> +<p>“Mary Quinn and I, with the assistance of others, +of course.”</p> +<p>“Are you sure that you know which is the business +end of a nursing-bottle? Could you put a safety-pin +where it would do the most good? Could you wash a +baby without drownin’ it?”</p> +<p>“Of course I have not had much experience,” Virginia +replied in a dignified and lofty way, “but Mary +Quinn has, and she could teach me.”</p> +<p>“You’re thinkin’, I suppose, that a day-nursery +would fill a long-felt want, or somethin’ like that. +Who’s goin’ to pay the bills?”</p> +<p>“Oh, there ought to be enough progressive, philanthropic +people in Durford to subscribe the necessary +funds, you know. It is to be an auxiliary to the parish +work.”</p> +<p>“Hm! What does Mr. Maxwell say?”</p> +<p>“Well, he said that he supposed that babies were +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_100' name='page_100'></a>100</span> +good things in their way; but he hadn’t seen many +in the village, and he didn’t quite realize what help +a day-nursery would be to the working women.”</p> +<p>“That doesn’t sound mighty enthusiastic. Maybe +we might get the money; but who’s to subscribe the +babies?”</p> +<p>“Why, the working women, of course.”</p> +<p>“They can’t subscribe ’em if they haven’t got ’em. +There are mighty few kids in this town; and if you +really want my candid opinion, I don’t think Durford +needs a day-nursery any more than it needs an icebox +for cherubim. But then of course that doesn’t +matter much. When you goin’ to begin?”</p> +<p>“Next Monday. We have rented the store where +Elkin’s grocery used to be, and we are going to fit +it up with cribs, and all the most up-to-date conveniences +for a sanitary day-nursery.”</p> +<p>“Hm! Well, I’ll do all I can to help you, of +course. I suppose you’ll find babies pushin’ all over +the sidewalk Monday mornin’, comin’ early to avoid +the rush. Better get down as early as possible, Virginia.”</p> +<p>Virginia departed.</p> +<p>After the furnishing of the incipient nursery had +been completed, and each little crib had a new unbreakable +doll whose cheeks were decorated with +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_101' name='page_101'></a>101</span> +unsuckable paint, Virginia and Mary Quinn—invaluable +in undertaking the spadework of all Virginia’s +parish exploits—gave an afternoon tea to which all +the subscribers and their friends were invited. But +when everything was in readiness for patronage, what +few working women there were in Durford, possessed +of the right kind of babies, seemed strangely reluctant +to trust their youthful offspring to the tender +mercies of Virginia Bascom and Mary Quinn.</p> +<p>Consequently, the philanthropic movement, started +under such favorable patronage, soon reached a critical +stage in its career, and Mrs. Burke was called in +to contribute some practical suggestions. She responded +to the summons with all due promptness, +and when she arrived at the nursery, she smilingly +remarked:</p> +<p>“Hm! But where are the babies? I thought they +would be swarming all over the place like tadpoles +in a pool.”</p> +<p>“Well, you see,” Virginia began, her voice quivering +with disappointment, “Mary Quinn and I have +been sitting here four mortal days, and not a single +infant has appeared on the scene. I must say that +the working women of Durford seem strangely unappreciative +of our efforts to help them.”</p> +<p>“Well,” Mrs. Burke responded, “I suppose day-nurseries +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_102' name='page_102'></a>102</span> +without babies are as incomplete as an incubator +without eggs. But after all, it hardly seems +worth while to go out and snatch nursing infants +from their mother’s breasts just to fill a long-felt +want, does it? Besides, you might get yourself into +trouble.”</p> +<p>“I didn’t ask you to come and make fun of me,” +Virginia replied touchily. “I wanted you to make +some suggestions to help us out. If we don’t get any +babies, we might just as well close our doors at once. +I should be awfully mortified to have the whole thing +a failure, after all we have done, and all the advertising +we have had.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke sat down and assumed a very judicial +expression.</p> +<p>“Well, Ginty dear, I’m awful sorry for you; I +don’t doubt you done the best you could. It’d be +unreasonable to expect you to collect babies like +mushrooms in a single night. All true reformers are +bound to strike snags, and to suffer because they aint +appreciated in their own day and generation. It’s +only after we are gone and others take our places that +the things we do are appreciated. You’ll have to +resign yourself to fate, Virginia, and wait for what +the newspapers call ‘the vindicatin’ verdict of prosperity.’ +Think of all the people that tried to do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_103' name='page_103'></a>103</span> +things and didn’t do ’em. Now there’s the Christian +martyrs––”</p> +<p>For some reason Virginia seemed to have a vague +suspicion that Hepsey was still making fun of her; +and being considerably nettled, she interjected tartly:</p> +<p>“I’m not working for the verdict of posterity, and +I don’t care a flip for the Christian martyrs. I’m +trying to conduct a day-nursery, here and now; we +have the beds, and the equipment, and some money, +and––”</p> +<p>“But you haven’t got the babies, Virginia!”</p> +<p>“Precisely, Mrs. Burke. It’s simply a question of +babies, now or never. Babies we must have or close +our doors. I must confess that I am greatly pained +at the lack of interest of the community in our humble +efforts to serve them.”</p> +<p>For some time Hepsey sat in silence; then she +smiled as if a bright idea occurred to her.</p> +<p>“Why not borrow a few babies from the mothers in +town, Virginia? You see, you might offer to pay a +small rental by the hour, or take out a lease which +could be renewed when it expired. What is lacking +is public confidence in your enterprise. If you and +Miss Quinn could be seen in the nursery windows +dandlin’ a baby on each arm, and singin’ lullabies to +’em for a few days, it’d attract attention, inspire faith +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_104' name='page_104'></a>104</span> +in the timid, and public confidence would be restored. +The tide of babies’d turn your way after a while, +and the nursery would prove a howlin’ success.”</p> +<p>Virginia considered the suggestion and, after deep +thought, remarked:</p> +<p>“What do you think we ought to pay for the loan +of a baby per hour, Mrs. Burke?”</p> +<p>“Well, of course I haven’t had much experience +rentin’ babies, as I have been busy payin’ taxes and +insurance on my own for some years; then you see +rents have gone up like everything lately. But I +should think that ten cents an afternoon ought to be +sufficient. I think I might be able to hunt up a baby +or two. Mrs. Warren might lend her baby, and perhaps +Mrs. Fletcher might add her twins. I’ll call on +them at once, if you say so.”</p> +<p>Virginia looked relieved, and in a voice of gratitude +responded:</p> +<p>“You are really very, very kind.”</p> +<p>“Well, cheer up, Virginia; cheer up. Every cloud +has its silver linin’; and I guess we can find some +babies somewhere even if we have to advertise in +the papers. Now I must be goin’, and I’ll stop on +the way and make a bid for the Fletcher twins. Good-by.”</p> +<p>When Nicholas Burke learned from his mother of +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_105' name='page_105'></a>105</span> +the quest of the necessary babies, he started out of +his own motion and was the first to arrive on the +scene with the spoils of victory, in the shape of the +eighteen-months infant of Mrs. Thomas McCarthy, +for which he had been obliged to pay twenty-five +cents in advance, the infant protesting vigorously with +all the power of a well developed pair of lungs. As +Nickey delivered the goods, he remarked casually:</p> +<p>“Say, Miss Virginia, you just take the darn thing +quick. He’s been howlin’ to beat the band.”</p> +<p>“Why, Nickey,” exclaimed Virginia, entranced, and +gingerly possessing herself of James McCarthy, +“however did you get him?”</p> +<p>“His ma wouldn’t let me have him at first; and it +took an awful lot of jollyin’ to bring her round. Of +course I didn’t mean to tell no lies, but I said you +was awful fond of kids. I said that if you only had +Jimmy, it would give the nursery a dandy send-off, +’cause she was so well known, and Mr. McCarthy +was such a prominent citizen. When she saw me +cough up a quarter and play with it right under her +nose, I could see she was givin’ in; and she says to +me, ‘Nickey, you can take him just this once. I’d like +to help the good cause along, and Miss Bascom, she +means well.’ Ma’s gettin’ after the Fletcher twins +for you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_106' name='page_106'></a>106</span></p> +<p>James McCarthy was welcomed with open arms, +was washed and dressed in the most approved antiseptic +manner; his gums were swabed with boracic +acid, and he was fed from a sterilized bottle on Pasteurized +milk, and tucked up in a crib with carbolized +sheets, and placed close to the window where he +could bask in actinic rays, and inhale ozone to his +heart’s content. Thus the passer-by could see at a +glance that the good work had begun to bear fruit.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke managed to get hold of the Fletcher +twins, and as they both howled lustily in unison, all +the time, they added much to the natural domesticity +of the scene and seemed to invite further patronage, +like barkers at a side-show. Mrs. Warren was also +persuaded.</p> +<p>Although the village was thoroughly canvassed, +Miss Bascom was obliged to content herself with the +McCarthy baby and the Fletcher twins, and the Warren +baby, until, one morning, a colored woman appeared +with a bundle in her arms. As she was the +first voluntary contributor of live stock, she was +warmly welcomed, and a great fuss made over the +tiny black infant which gradually emerged from the +folds of an old shawl “like a cuckoo out of its +cocoon,” as Mary Quinn remarked. This, of course, +was very nice and encouraging, but most unfortunately, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_107' name='page_107'></a>107</span> +when night came, the mother did not appear +to claim her progeny, nor did she ever turn up again. +Of course it was a mere oversight on her part, but +Virginia was much disturbed, for, to her very great +embarrassment, she found herself the undisputed possessor +of a coal black baby. She was horrified beyond +measure, and sent at once for Mrs. Burke.</p> +<p>“What shall I do, what shall I do, Mrs. Burke?” +she cried. Mrs. Burke gazed musingly at the writhing +black blot on the white and rose blanket, and suggested:</p> +<p>“Pity you couldn’t adopt it, Virginia. You always +loved children.”</p> +<p>“Adopt it!” Virginia screamed hysterically. “What +in the world can you be thinking of?”</p> +<p>“Well, I can’t think of anything else, unless I can +persuade Andy Johnston, the colored man on the +farm, to adopt it. He wouldn’t mind its complexion +as much as you seem to.”</p> +<p>Virginia brightened considerably at this suggestion, +exclaiming excitedly:</p> +<p>“Oh Mrs. Burke, do you really think you could?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know. Perhaps so. At any rate, +if we offer to help pay the extra expense, Mrs. Johnston +might bring the baby up as her own. Then they +can name it Virginia Bascom Johnston, you see.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_108' name='page_108'></a>108</span></p> +<p>Virginia bit her lip, but she managed to control her +temper as she exclaimed quite cheerfully:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke, you are so very kind. You are always +helping somebody out of a scrape.”</p> +<p>“Don’t overpraise me, Virginia. My head’s easily +turned. The teachin’s of experience are hard—but I +guess they’re best in the end. Well, send the poor +little imp of darkness round to me to-night, and I’ll +see that it has good care.”</p> +<p>As a matter of fact, Hepsey had qualms of conscience +as to whether she should not, at the outset, +have discouraged the whole baby project; experience +threatened to give its lesson by pretty hard knocks, +on this occasion.</p> +<p>For though the immediate problem was thus easily +solved, others presented themselves to vex the philanthropic +Virginia.</p> +<p>When on the tenth day the rental for the Warren +baby and the Fletcher twins fell due, and the lease of +James McCarthy expired without privilege of renewal, +the finances of the nursery were at a very low +ebb. It certainly did not help matters much when, +towards night, Mary Quinn called Virginia’s attention +to the fact that there were unmistakable signs of a +bad rash on the faces of the twins, and very suspicious +spots on the cheeks of the Warren baby. Even the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_109' name='page_109'></a>109</span> +antiseptic James McCarthy blushed like a boiled lobster, +and went hopelessly back on his sterilized character. +Of course the only thing to be done was to +send at once for the doctor, and for the mothers of +the respective infants. When the doctor arrived he +pronounced the trouble to be measles; and when the +mothers made their appearance, Virginia learned +something of the unsuspected resources of the English +language served hot from the tongues of three +frightened and irate women. Finally the floor was +cleared, and the place closed up for disinfection.</p> +<p>Just before she left, Virginia dropped into a chair +and wept, quite oblivious of the well-meant consolations +of Mary Quinn, sometime co-partner in “The +Durford Day-Nursery for the Children of Working +Women.”</p> +<p>“We’ve done the very best we could, Miss Bascom; +and it certainly isn’t our fault that the venture turned +out badly. Poor babies!”</p> +<p>At this the sobbing Virginia was roused to one last +protest:</p> +<p>“Mary Quinn, if ever you say another word to me +about babies, I’ll have you arrested. I just hate +babies, and—and everything! Why, there comes Mr. +Maxwell! Say, Mary, you just run and get me a wet +towel to wipe my face with, while I hunt for my +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_110' name='page_110'></a>110</span> +combs and do up my back hair. And then if you +wouldn’t mind vanishing for a while—I’m sure you +understand—for if ever I needed spiritual consolation +and the help of the church, it is now, this minute.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch9.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 370px; height: 333px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_111' name='page_111'></a>111</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_IX_THE_RECTORY' id='CHAPTER_IX_THE_RECTORY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER IX</h2> +<h3>THE RECTORY</h3> +</div> +<p>A few weeks after Donald’s conversational +duel with Mrs. Burke he started on a six-weeks’ +vacation, which he had certainly +earned; and as he busied himself with his packing,—Hepsey +assisting,—he announced:</p> +<p>“When I come back, Mrs. Burke, I probably shall +not come alone.”</p> +<p>He was strapping up his suit-case when he made +this rather startling announcement, and the effect +seemed to send the blood to his head. Mrs. Burke +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_112' name='page_112'></a>112</span> +did not seem to notice his confusion as she remarked +calmly:</p> +<p>“Hm! That’s a good thing. Your grandmother +can have the room next to yours, and we’ll do all we +can to make the old lady comfortable. I’m sure she’ll +be a great comfort to you, though she’ll get a bit +lonesome at times, unless she’s active on her feet.”</p> +<p>Donald laughed, as he blushed more furiously and +stuttered:</p> +<p>“No, I am not going to bring my grandmother +here, and I strongly suspect that you know what I +mean. I’m going to be married.”</p> +<p>“So you are going to get married, are you?” Hepsey +remarked with due amazement, as if the suspicion +of the fact had never entered her head before. +“Well, I am mighty glad of it. I only wish that I +was goin’ to be present to give you away. Yes, I’m +mighty glad. She’ll make a new man of you up here, +so long as she isn’t a new woman.”</p> +<p>“No, not in the slang sense of the word; although +I think you will find her very capable, and I hope +with all my heart that you’ll like her.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure I shall. The question is whether she’ll +like me.”</p> +<p>Hepsey Burke looked rather sober for a moment, +and Donald instantly asserted: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_113' name='page_113'></a>113</span></p> +<p>“She can’t help liking you.”</p> +<p>“We-ell now, I could mention quite a number of +people who find it as easy as rolling off a log to <i>dis</i>like, +me. But that doesn’t matter much. I have found +it a pretty good plan not to expect a great deal of +adoration, and to be mighty grateful for the little +you get. Be sure you let me know when to expect +you and your grandmother back.”</p> +<p>“Most certainly I shall,” he laughed. “It will be +in about six weeks, you know. Good-by, and thank +you a thousand times for all your kindness to me.”</p> +<p>There was considerable moisture in Hepsey’s eyes +as she stood and watched Maxwell drive down the +road. Then wiping her eyes furtively with one corner +of her apron she remarked to herself:</p> +<p>“Well, I suppose I am glad, mighty glad; but +somehow it isn’t the jolliest thing in the world to +have one’s friends get married. They are never the +same again; and in ten times out of six the lady in the +case is jealous of her husband’s friends, and tries to +make trouble. It takes a lady saint to share her +husband’s interests with anybody, and maybe she ’aint +to blame. Well, the next thing in order is to fix up +the rectory in six weeks. The best way to repair that +thing is with a match and some real good kerosene +and a few shavings; however, we’ll have to do the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_114' name='page_114'></a>114</span> +best we can. I think I’ll set Jonathan Jackson to +work this afternoon, and go around and interview the +vestry myself.”</p> +<p>Jonathan proved resignedly obedient to Hepsey’s +demands, but the vestry blustered and scolded, because +they had not been consulted in the matter, until +Hepsey said she would be glad to receive any contribution +they might choose to offer; then they relapsed +into innocuous desuetude and talked crops.</p> +<p>As soon as the repairs were well under way, the +whole town was wild with gossip about Maxwell and +Miss Bascom. If he were going to occupy the rectory, +the necessary inference was that he was going to be +married, as he surely would not contemplate keeping +bachelor’s hall by himself. At last Virginia had attained +the height of her ambition and captured the +rector! Consequently she was the center of interest +in every social gathering, although, as the engagement +had not been formally announced, no one felt at liberty +to congratulate her. To any tentative and insinuating +advances in this direction Virginia replied by +non-committal smiles, capable of almost any interpretation; +and the seeker after information was none the +wiser.</p> +<p>Mrs. Roscoe-Jones, by virtue of her long intimacy +with Hepsey and her assured social position in Durford’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_115' name='page_115'></a>115</span> +thirty gentry, felt that she was entitled to some +definite information; and so, as they walked back from +church one Wednesday afternoon, she remarked:</p> +<p>“I hear that the parish is going to repair the rectory, +and that you are taking a great interest in it. +You must be on very intimate terms with Mr. Bascom +and the vestry!”</p> +<p>“Well, not exactly. Bascom and I haven’t held +hands in the dark for some time; but I am going to +do what I can to get the house in order for Mr. +Maxwell.”</p> +<p>“I wonder where the money is coming from to complete +the work? It seems to me that the whole parish +ought to be informed about the matter, and share +in the work; but I suppose Mr. Bascom’s shouldering +it all, since there’s been no effort to raise money by +having a fair.”</p> +<p>“I really don’t know much about it as yet, Sarah. +Of course Bascom’s charitable work is mostly done +in secret, so that nobody ever finds it out. He is a +modest man and wouldn’t like to be caught in the act +of signing a check for anybody else. It might seem +showy.”</p> +<p>“Yes, I understand,” Mrs. Roscoe-Jones retorted +dryly; “but under the circumstances, that is––” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_116' name='page_116'></a>116</span></p> +<p>“Under what circumstances?” Mrs. Burke inquired +quickly.</p> +<p>“Oh, considering that Mr. Bascom is Virginia’s +father and would want to make her comfortable, you +know––”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t know. I’m awful stupid about some +things. You must have discovered that before.”</p> +<p>“Now Hepsey, what is the use of beating around +the bush like this? You must know the common gossip +of the town, and you must be in Mr. Maxwell’s +confidence. What shall I say when people ask me if +he is engaged to Virginia Bascom?”</p> +<p>“Tell ’em you don’t know a blessed thing about it. +What else can you tell ’em? You might tell ’em that +you tried to pump me and the pump wouldn’t work +’cause it needed packin’.”</p> +<p>After this, Mrs. Roscoe-Jones felt that there was +nothing left for her to do but retire from the scene; +so she crossed the road.</p> +<p>When Mrs. Burke began the actual work on the +rectory she quickly realized what she had to cope +with. The workmen of Durford had a pleasing habit +of accepting all offers of work, and promising anything, +and making a start so as to get the job; and +then, having upset the whole premises, they promptly +“lit out” for parts unknown in order to get another +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_117' name='page_117'></a>117</span> +job, and no mortal knew when they would return. It +always seemed promising and hopeful to see a laboring +man arrive in his overalls with his dinner-pail and +tools at seven; but when two hours later he had vanished, +not to return, it was a bit discouraging. Mrs. +Burke was not in a very good humor when, arriving +at the rectory, she met Tom Snyder the plumber, at +ten-thirty, walking briskly away from his job. She +planted herself squarely across the walk and began:</p> +<p>“Good morning, Thomas; where are you going, if +I may ask?”</p> +<p>“I am going back for my tools, Mrs. Burke.”</p> +<p>“Excuse me, Thomas, but you were never more +mistaken in your life. You put the kitchen pipes out +of business two weeks ago, and you must have been +goin’ back for your tools ever since. I suppose you’re +chargin’ me by the hour for goin’ backwards.”</p> +<p>Thomas looked sheepish and scratched his head +with his dirty fingers.</p> +<p>“No, but I have to finish a little job I begun for +Elias Warden on the hill. I’ll be back again right +away.”</p> +<p>“None of that, Thomas. You’re goin’ back to the +rectory with me now, and if the job isn’t finished by +six o’clock, you’ll never get your hands on it again.”</p> +<p>The crestfallen Thomas reluctantly turned around +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_118' name='page_118'></a>118</span> +and accompanied Hepsey back to the rectory and finished +his work in half an hour.</p> +<p>After much trial and tribulation the rectory was +duly repaired, replastered, and papered. The grass +had been cut; the bushes were trimmed; and the house +had been painted. Then Mrs. Burke obtained a hayrack +with a team, and taking Nickey and Jonathan +Jackson with her, made a tour of the parish asking +for such furniture as individual parishioners were willing +to give. Late in the afternoon she arrived at the +rectory with a very large load, and the next day Jonathan +was made to set to work with his tools, and she +started in with some paint and varnish, and the result +seemed eminently satisfactory to her, even though +her hands were stained, she had had no dinner, and +her hair was stuck to her head here and there in shiny +spots. As they were leaving the house to return +home for supper, she scowled severely at Jonathan as +she remarked:</p> +<p>“Jonathan, I do believe you’ve got more red paint +on the top of your head than you left on the kitchen +chairs. Do for mercy sake wash the end of your nose. +I don’t care to be seen comin’ out of here with you +lookin’ like that,” she added scathingly.</p> +<p>After that, it was, as Mrs. Burke remarked, just +fun to finish the rectory; and though so much had +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_119' name='page_119'></a>119</span> +been given by the people of the parish, there were +many new pieces of furniture delivered, for which no +one could account. As neither Mr. Bascom nor Miss +Bascom had sent anything, and as neither had appeared +on the scene, excitement was at fever heat. +Rumor had it that Virginia had gone to the city for +a week or so, to buy her trousseau. Presently the report +circulated that Maxwell was going to bring his +bride back with him when he returned from his vacation.</p> +<p>The day before the one set for Maxwell’s arrival +Mrs. Burke confessed the truth, and suggested that +the rectory be stocked with provisions, so that the +bride and groom should have something to eat when +they first got home. The idea seemed to please the +parish, and provisions began to arrive and were placed +in the cellar, or on the newly painted pantry shelves, +or in the neat cupboards. Mrs. Talbot sent a bushel +of potatoes, Mrs. Peterson a pan of soda biscuit, +Mrs. Andrews two loaves of bread; Mrs. Squires donated +a pan of soda biscuit, Mrs. Johnson some frosted +cake, and Mrs. Marlow two bushels of apples. +Mrs. Hurd sent a pan of soda biscuit, Mrs. Waldorf +three dozen eggs, and a sack of flour; Mrs. +Freyburg sent a pan of soda biscuit, Mrs. Jones +a boiled ham, Mrs. Orchardson two bushels +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_120' name='page_120'></a>120</span> +of turnips and half a pan of soda biscuit.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke received the provisions as they arrived, +and put them where they belonged. Just about supper +time Mrs. Loomis came with a large bundle under +her arm and remarked to Hepsey:</p> +<p>“I thought I’d bring something nobody else would +think of—something out of the ordinary that perhaps +Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell would relish.”</p> +<p>“I’m sure that was real thoughtful of you, Mrs. +Loomis,” Hepsey replied. “What have you got?”</p> +<p>“Well,” Mrs. Loomis responded, “I thought I’d +bring ’em two pans of my nice fresh soda biscuit.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke kept her face straight, and responded +cheerfully:</p> +<p>“That was awful nice of you, Mrs. Loomis.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that’s all right. And if you want any more, +just let me know.”</p> +<p>Finally, when the door was closed on the last contributor, +Mrs. Burke dropped into a chair and called:</p> +<p>“Jonathan Jackson, come here quick.”</p> +<p>Jonathan responded promptly, and anxiously inquired:</p> +<p>“Hepsey, be you ill?”</p> +<p>“No, I’m not sick; but we have ten pans of soda +biscuit. They are in the pantry, down cellar, in the +woodshed, on the parlor table. For mercy’s sake +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_121' name='page_121'></a>121</span> +take eight pans out to the chickens or stick ’em on +the picket fence. I just loathe soda biscuit; and if +any more come I shall throw ’em at the head of the +woman that brings ’em.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch10.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 388px; height: 335px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_122' name='page_122'></a>122</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_X_THE_BRIDES_ARRIVAL' id='CHAPTER_X_THE_BRIDES_ARRIVAL'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER X</h2> +<h3>THE BRIDE’S ARRIVAL</h3> +</div> +<p>Next morning, when Nickey brought up the +mail, Mrs. Burke looked anxiously over her +letters until she came to the one she was expecting. +She read it in silence.</p> +<p>The gist of the matter was that Maxwell had been +married to the nicest girl in the world, and was looking +forward to having Mrs. Burke meet her, and to +have his wife know the woman who had been so supremely +good to him in the parish. He closed by informing +her that they were to return the next day at +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_123' name='page_123'></a>123</span> +five P. M., and if it were not asking too much, he +hoped that she would take them in for a few days +until they could find quarters elsewhere. The letter +was countersigned by a pretty little plea for friendship +from “Mrs. Betty.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke replaced the letter and murmured to +herself, smiling:</p> +<p>“Poor little dear! Of course they could come and +stay as long as they pleased; but as the rectory is in +order, I think that I’ll meet them at the depot, and +take them there direct. They’ll be much happier alone +by themselves from the start. I’ll have supper ready +for ’em, and cook the chickens while they’re unpackin’ +their trunks.”</p> +<p>As Mrs. Burke thought it best to maintain a discreet +silence as to the time of their arrival, there was +no one but herself to meet them at the station when +the train pulled in. As Maxwell presented his wife +to Mrs. Burke, Hepsey took the girl’s two hands in +hers and kissed her heartily, and then, looking at her +keenly as the bride blushed under her searching gaze, +she remarked:</p> +<p>“You’re a dreadful disappointment, Mrs. Maxwell. +I’m afraid it’ll take me a long time to get over it.”</p> +<p>“I am horribly sorry to disappoint you so, Mrs. +Burke.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_124' name='page_124'></a>124</span></p> +<p>Maxwell laughed, while Mrs. Betty looked puzzled.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Mrs. Burke continued, “you’re a dreadful +disappointment. Your picture isn’t half as sweet as +you are.” Then turning to Maxwell, she said:</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you tell me? Who taught you to +pick out just the right sort of wife, I’d like to +know?”</p> +<p>“<i>She</i> did!” Maxwell replied, pointing delightedly +to the young woman, who was still smiling and blushing +under Hepsey’s inspection.</p> +<p>“But Mrs. Burke,” Mrs. Betty interposed, “can’t +you give me a little credit for ‘picking out’ Donald, +as you say?”</p> +<p>“Yes; Mr. Maxwell’s pretty fine, though I wouldn’t +want to have you tell him so, for anything. But I +know, because Durford is calculated to test a man’s +mettle, if any place ever was. Now Mrs. Betty, if +that’s what I’m to call you, if you’ll get into the +wagon we’ll drive home and have some supper. You +must be ’most famished by this time, if you stop +thinkin’ about Mr. Maxwell long enough to have an +appetite. I suppose that we might have had a committee +of the vestry down here to bid you welcome to +Durford; and Nickey suggested the village band and +some hot air balloons, and that the boys of the parish +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_125' name='page_125'></a>125</span> +should pull the carriage up to the house after they’d +presented you with a magnificent bouquet; but I +thought you’d just like to slip in unnoticed and get +acquainted with your parishioners one at a time. It’d +be simply awful to have a whole bunch of ’em thrown +at your head at once; and as for the whole vestry—well, +never mind.”</p> +<p>They got into the “democrat” and started out at a +smart trot, but when they came to the road which +turned toward Thunder Cliff, Mrs. Burke drove +straight across the green.</p> +<p>“Why, where are you going, Mrs. Burke?” Maxwell +exclaimed.</p> +<p>“Well, I thought that maybe Mrs. Betty would like +to get a sight of the town before we went home.”</p> +<p>When they came to the rectory and turned into the +yard, the wonderful transformation dawned on Maxwell.</p> +<p>“My gracious, what a change! It’s perfectly marvelous,” +he exclaimed. “Why Mrs. Burke, I believe +you’ve brought us here to live!”</p> +<p>“Right you are, my friend. This is where you belong.”</p> +<p>“Well, you certainly do beat the Dutch. Who is +responsible for all this, I’d like to know? But of +course it’s you.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_126' name='page_126'></a>126</span></p> +<p>“Well, I had a hand in it, but so did the whole +parish. Now walk right in and make yourselves at +home.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke enjoyed to the full Maxwell’s surprise +and delight, as he and Mrs. Betty explored the house +like a couple of very enthusiastic children. When +they got into the china closet and Mrs. Betty found +a silver tea-ball she exclaimed rapturously:</p> +<p>“Look here, Donald! Did you ever see the like of +this? Here is a regular tea-ball. We will have tea +every afternoon at four, and Mrs. Burke will be our +guest. How perfectly delightful.”</p> +<p>This remark seemed to please Hepsey mightily, as +she exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Oh, my, no! Do you want to spoil my nervous +system? We are not given much to tea-balls in Durford. +We consider ourselves lucky if we get a plain +old-fashioned pot. Now you get fixed up,” she directed, +“while I get supper ready, and I’ll stay just +this time, if you’ll let me, and then if you can stand +it, perhaps you’ll ask me again.”</p> +<p>Soon they sat down to a little table covered with +spotless linen and a pretty set of white china with +gold bands. Maxwell did not say much; he was still +too surprised and delighted.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_4' id='linki_4'></a> +<img src='images/illus-127.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 538px; height: 355px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 538px;'> +“OH WELL, I ALWAYS BELIEVE THAT TWO YOUNG MARRIED PEOPLE SHOULD START OUT BY THEMSELVES, AND THEN IF THEY GET INTO A FAMILY ROW IT WON’T SCANDALIZE THE PARISH”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_127' name='page_127'></a>127</span></div> +<p>The broiled chickens and the browned potato balls +were placed before Maxwell, who faced Mrs. Betty—Hepsey +sitting between them.</p> +<p>“Now this is what I call rich,” Maxwell exclaimed +as he carved. “I hadn’t the slightest suspicion that +we were to come here and find all these luxuries.”</p> +<p>“However did the house get furnished?” chimed in +Mrs. Betty.</p> +<p>“Oh well,” Mrs. Burke replied, “I always believe +that two young married people should start out by +themselves, you know; and then if they get into a +family row it won’t scandalize the parish. The only +new thing about the furnishings is paint and varnish. +I drove around and held up the parish, and made +them stand and deliver the goods, and Jonathan Jackson +and I touched it up a little; that’s all.”</p> +<p>“We ought to acknowledge each gift personally,” +Maxwell said. “You must tell us who’s given what.”</p> +<p>“Oh, no you won’t. When I took these things away +from their owners by force, I acknowledged them in +the politest way possible, so as to save you the +trouble. You’re not supposed to know where a thing +came from.”</p> +<p>“But there must have been a lot of money spent on +the rectory to get it into shape,” Maxwell asserted. +“Where did it all come from?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke grinned with amusement. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_128' name='page_128'></a>128</span></p> +<p>“Why, can’t you guess? Of course it was that +merry-hearted, generous old Senior Warden of yours. +Who else could it be? If there is anything you need, +just let us know.”</p> +<p>“But the house seems to be very completely furnished +as it is.”</p> +<p>“No, not yet. If you look around you’ll see lots +of things that aren’t here.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Betty quite raved over the salad, made of +lettuce, oranges, walnuts and a mayonnaise dressing. +Then there came ice cream and chocolate sauce, followed +by black coffee.</p> +<p>“This is quite too much, Mrs. Burke. You must +be a superb cook. I am horribly afraid you’ll have +spoiled Donald, so that my cooking will seem very +tame to him,” Mrs. Betty remarked.</p> +<p>“Well, never mind, Mrs. Betty. If worst comes +to worst there are seven pans of soda biscuit secreted +around the premises somewhere; so don’t be discouraged. +There are lots of things you can do with a +soda biscuit, if you know how. Now we’ll just clear +the table, and wash the dishes, and put things away.”</p> +<p>When about nine o’clock she arose to go, Maxwell +took both Hepsey’s hands in his and said quietly:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke, I’m more indebted to you than I can +possibly say, for all you have done for us. I wish I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_129' name='page_129'></a>129</span> +knew how to thank you properly, but I don’t.”</p> +<p>“Oh, never mind that,” Mrs. Burke replied, a mist +gathering in her eyes, “it’s been lots of fun, and if +you’re satisfied I’m more than pleased.” Then, putting +her arm around Mrs. Betty’s waist, she continued:</p> +<p>“Remember that we’re not payin’ this nice little +wife of yours to do parish work, and if people interfere +with her you just tell em to go to Thunder Cliff. +Good-by.”</p> +<p>She was turning away when suddenly she stopped, +an expression of horror on her face:</p> +<p>“My! think of that now! This was a bride’s dinner-party, +and I put yellow flowers on the table, instead +of white! What’d city folks say to that!”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch11.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 370px; height: 339px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_130' name='page_130'></a>130</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XI_VIRGINIAS_HIGH_HORSE' id='CHAPTER_XI_VIRGINIAS_HIGH_HORSE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XI</h2> +<h3>VIRGINIA’S HIGH HORSE</h3> +</div> +<p>Mrs. Betty soon succeeded in winning a +place for herself in the hearts of her parishioners, +and those who called to look over +her “clothes,” and see if she was going to “put on +airs” as a city woman, called again because they really +liked her. She returned the calls with equal interest, +and soon had her part of the parish organization well +in hand.</p> +<p>Maxwell’s choice was, in fact, heartily approved—except +by Virginia Bascom and the Senior Warden. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_131' name='page_131'></a>131</span> +The former took the opportunity to leave cards on +an afternoon when all Durford was busily welcoming +Betty at a tea; and was “not at home” when Betty +duly returned the call. Virginia was also careful not +to “see” either Betty or her husband if, by any +chance, they passed her when in town.</p> +<p>Of all of which manœuvres Betty and Donald remained +apparently sublimely unconscious.</p> +<p>As a means of making some return for the good-hearted +generosity and hospitality of the inhabitants, +represented by the furniture at the rectory and many +tea-parties under various roof-trees, Mrs. Maxwell +persuaded her husband that they should give a parish +party.</p> +<p>So invitations were issued broadcast, and Mrs. +Burke was asked to scan the lists, lest anyone be +omitted. China sufficient for the occasion was supplemented +by Hepsey Burke and Jonathan Jackson, +and Nickey laid his invaluable services under contribution +to fetch and carry—organizing a corps of +helpers.</p> +<p>The whole adult village,—at least the feminine +portion of it,—young and old, presented themselves +at the party, dressed in their best bibs and tuckers, +amusing themselves outdoors at various improvised +games, under the genial generalship of their host; +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_132' name='page_132'></a>132</span> +and regaling themselves within at the tea-tables presided +over by Mrs. Betty, whose pride it was to have +prepared with her own hands,—assisted by the indefatigable +Hepsey,—all the cakes and preserves and +other confections provided for the occasion. The +whole party was one whole-hearted, simply convivial +gathering—with but a single note to mar it; and who +knows whether the rector, and still less the rector’s +wife, would have noticed it, but for Hepsey Burke’s +subsequent “boiling over?”</p> +<p>When the games and feast were at full swing, Virginia +Bascom’s loud-voiced automobile drove up, and +the door-bell pealed. The guests ceased chattering +and the little maid, hired for the occasion, hurried +from the tea-cups to answer the haughty summons. +Through the silence in the tea-room, produced by the +overpowering clatter of the bell, the voice of the little +maid,—quite too familiar for the proper formality +of the occasion, in Virginia’s opinion,—was heard +to pipe out cheerily:</p> +<p>“Come right in, Miss Virginia; the folks has eat +most all the victuals—but I guess Mrs. Maxwell’ll +find ye some.”</p> +<p>“Please announce ‘Miss Virginia Bascom’,” droned +the lady, ignoring the untoward levity of the now +cowering maid, and followed her to the door of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_133' name='page_133'></a>133</span> +room full of guests, where she paused impressively.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Bascom,” called the confused maid, through +the solemn silence, as all eyes turned towards the +door, “here’s,—this is,—I mean Miss Virginia says +Miss Virginia Maxwell––” After which confusing +and somewhat embarrassing announcement the maid +summarily fled to the kitchen, and left Virginia to +her own devices.</p> +<p>Betty at once came forward, and quite ignoring the +error, smiled a pleasant welcome.</p> +<p>“Miss Bascom, it is very nice to know you at last. +We have been so unlucky, have we not?”</p> +<p>Virginia advanced rustling, and gave Betty a frigid +finger-tip, held shoulder-high, and cast a collective +stare at hostess and guests through her lorgnette, +bowing to Maxwell and ignoring his proffered handshake.</p> +<p>There was an awkward pause. For once even +Betty-the-self-possessed was at a loss for the necessary +tactics.</p> +<p>A hearty voice soon filled the empty spaces: “Hello +there, Ginty; I always did say those auto’s was a +poor imitation of a street-car; when they get balky +and leave you sticking in the road-side and make you +behind-time, you can’t so much as get your fare back +and walk. None but royalty, duchesses, and the four-hundred +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_134' name='page_134'></a>134</span> +can afford to risk losing their cup o’ tea in +them things.”</p> +<p>There was a general laugh at Hepsey’s sally, and +conversation again resumed its busy buzzing, and +Virginia was obliged to realize that her entry had been +something of a frost.</p> +<p>She spent some minutes drawing off her gloves, +sipped twice at a cup of tea, and nibbled once at a +cake; spent several more minutes getting her hands +back into her gloves, fixed a good-by smile on her +face, murmured some unintelligible words to her +hostess, and departed, annoyed to realize that the +engine of the awaiting car—kept running to emphasize +her comet-like passage through so mixed an assembly—had +become quite inaudible to the company.</p> +<p>“Such an insult!” stormed the lady, as she returned +home in high dudgeon. “I might have been a nobody, +the way they treated me. Dad shall hear of this; +and I’ll see that he puts them where they belong. The +impudence! And after his t-treating me s-s-so!” she +wept with chagrin, and malice that betokened no good +to the rector and his little wife.</p> +<p>Even so, it is doubtful if the host and hostess would +have permitted themselves to notice the supercilious +rudeness of the leader of Durford “Society,” had +Hepsey been able to curb her indignation. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_135' name='page_135'></a>135</span></p> +<p>As she and Betty and the little maid, assisted by +Donald and Nickey and his helpers, were clearing +up the fragments that remained of the entertainment, +Hepsey broke forth:</p> +<p>“If I don’t set that young woman down in her place +where she belongs before I’ve done, I’ve missed my +guess: ‘Please announce Miss Virginia Bascom,’ indeed! +If that isn’t sauce, I’m the goose.”</p> +<p>“Oh never mind, Mrs. Burke,” soothed Betty in a +low voice; “she’ll soon realize that we’re doing things +in good old country style, and haven’t brought any +city ways with us to Durford. I dare say she +thought––”</p> +<p>“Thought nothin’!” replied the exasperated Hepsey. +“I’ll thought her, with her high looks and her +proud stomach, as the psalmist says. I’d like—oh, +wouldn’t I just like to send up a nice little basket of +these left-over victuals to Ginty, ‘with Mrs. Maxwell’s +regards.’”</p> +<p>She laughed heartily, but Betty was determined +not to let herself dwell on anything so trivial, and +soon, by way of changing the subject, she was putting +Nickey up to the idea of forming a boy-scout corps, +which, as she added, could present the village with +a thoroughly versatile organization, both useful and +ornamental. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_136' name='page_136'></a>136</span></p> +<p>“Gee,” remarked Nickey, who quickly saw himself +captaining a body of likely young blades, “that’d be +some lively corpse, believe me. When can we start +in, Mrs. Maxwell?”</p> +<p>“You must ask Mr. Maxwell all about that, Nickey,” +she laughed.</p> +<p>“But not now,” interposed his mother. “You come +along with me this minute, and let Mr. Maxwell have +a bit of peace; I know how he just loves these teas. +Good night, all!” she called as she departed with her +son under her wing.</p> +<p>“Donald! Wasn’t it all fun—and weren’t they all +splendid?” Betty glowed.</p> +<p>“More fun than a barrel of Bascoms—monkeys, I +mean,” he corrected himself, laughing at Betty’s +shocked expression.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch12.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 378px; height: 344px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_137' name='page_137'></a>137</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XII_HOUSE_CLEANING_AND_BACHELORHOOD' id='CHAPTER_XII_HOUSE_CLEANING_AND_BACHELORHOOD'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XII</h2> +<h3>HOUSE CLEANING AND BACHELORHOOD</h3> +</div> +<p>Apart from Mrs. Burke, there was no one in +the town who so completely surrendered to +Mrs. Maxwell’s charms as Jonathan Jackson, +the Junior Warden. Betty had penetration +enough to see, beneath the man’s rough exterior, all +that was fine and lovable, and she treated him with a +jolly, friendly manner that warmed his heart.</p> +<p>One day she and Mrs. Burke went over to call on +Jonathan, and found him sitting in the woodshed on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_138' name='page_138'></a>138</span> +a tub turned bottom upwards, looking very forlorn +and disconsolate.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter, Jonathan? You look as if +you had committed the unpardonable sin,” Hepsey +greeted him.</p> +<p>“No, it ’aint me,” Jonathan replied; “it’s Mary +McGuire that’s the confounded sinner this time.”</p> +<p>“Well, what’s Mary been up to now?”</p> +<p>“Mary McGuire’s got one of her attacks of house-cleanin’ +on, and I tell you it’s a bad one. Drat the +nuisance.”</p> +<p>“Why Jonathan! Don’t swear like that.”</p> +<p>“Well, I be hanged if I can stand this sort of thing +much longer. Mary, she’s the deuce and all, when +she once gets started house-cleanin’.”</p> +<p>“Oh dear,” Mrs. Betty sympathized. “It’s a bother, +isnt it? But it doesn’t take so long, and it will +soon be over, won’t it?”</p> +<p>“Well, I don’t know as to that,” replied Jonathan +disconsolately. “Mary McGuire seems to think that +the whole house must be turned wrong side out, and +every bit of furniture I’ve got deposited in the front +yard. Now, Mrs. Betty, you just look over there +once. There’s yards and yards of clothes-line covered +with carpets and rugs and curtains I’ve been ordered +to clean. It’s somethin’ beyond words. The +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_139' name='page_139'></a>139</span> +whole place looks as if there was goin’ to be an auction, +or a rummage sale, or as if we had moved out +’cause the house was afire. Then she falls to with +tubs of boilin’ hot soap-suds, until it fills your lungs, +and drips off the ends of your nose and your fingers, +and smells like goodness knows what.”</p> +<p>“Jonathan!” Hepsey reproved.</p> +<p>“Are you exaggerating just the least bit?” echoed +Betty.</p> +<p>“No ma’am, I’m not. Words can’t begin to tell +the tale when Mary gets the fever on. I thought I +noticed symptoms of house-cleanin’ last week. Mary +was eyein’ things round the house, and givin’ me less +and less to eat, and lookin’ at me with that cold-storage +stare of hers that means death or house-cleanin’.”</p> +<p>“But, Mr. Jackson,” Betty pleaded, “your house +has to be cleaned sometimes, you know.”</p> +<p>“Sure thing,” Jonathan replied. “But there’s altogether +too much of this house-cleanin’ business goin’ +on to suit me. I don’t see any dirt anywheres.”</p> +<p>“That’s because you are a man,” Hepsey retorted. +“Men never see dirt until they have to take a shovel +to it.”</p> +<p>Jonathan sighed hopelessly. “What’s the use of +bein’ a widower,” he continued, “if you can’t even +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_140' name='page_140'></a>140</span> +have your own way in your own house, I’d just like to +know? I have to eat odds and ends of cold victuals +out here in the woodshed, or anywhere Mary McGuire +happens to drop ’em.”</p> +<p>“That’s tough luck, Mr. Jackson. You just come +over to dinner with Donald and me and have a square +meal.”</p> +<p>“I’d like to awful well, Mrs. Maxwell, but I +dasn’t: if I didn’t camp out and eat her cold victuals +she’d laid out for me, it’d spoil the pleasure of house-cleanin’ +for her. ’Taint as though it was done with +when she’s finished, neither. After it’s all over, and +things are set to rights, they’re all wrong. Some +shades won’t roll up. Some won’t roll down; why, +I’ve undressed in the dark before now, since one of +’em suddenly started rollin’ up on me before I’d got +into bed, and scared the wits out of me. She’ll be +askin’ me to let her give the furnace a sponge bath +next. I believe she’d use tooth-powder on the inside +of a boiled egg, if she only knew how. This house-cleanin’ +racket is all dum nonsense, anyhow.”</p> +<p>“Why Jonathan! Don’t swear like that,” Betty +exclaimed laughing; “Mr. Maxwell’s coming.”</p> +<p>“I said <i>d-u-m</i>, Mrs. Betty; I never say nothin’ +worse than that—’cept when I lose my temper,” he +added, safely, examining first the hone and then the +edge of the scythe, as if intending to sharpen it.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_5' id='linki_5'></a> +<img src='images/illus-141.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 574px; height: 370px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 574px;'> +“I AIN’T A CHICKEN NO MORE, MRS. BETTY, AND I’VE ’MOST FORGOT HOW TO DO A BIT OF COURTIN’”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_141' name='page_141'></a>141</span></div> +<p>Hepsey had gone into the house to inspect for herself +the thoroughness of Mary McGuire’s operations; +Betty thought the opportunity favorable for +certain counsels.</p> +<p>“The trouble with you is you shouldn’t be living +alone, like this, Jonathan. You have all the disadvantages +of a house, and none of the pleasures of a +home.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” he responded, yawning, “it’s true enough; +but I ’aint a chicken no more, Mrs. Betty, and I’ve +’most forgot how to do a bit of courtin’. What with +cleanin’ up, and puttin’ on your Sunday clothes, and +goin’ to the barber’s, and gettin’ a good ready, it’s a +considerable effort for an old man like me.”</p> +<p>“People don’t want to see your clothes; they want +to see you. If you feel obliged to, you can send your +Sunday clothes around some day and let her look at +them once for all. Keeping young is largely a matter +of looking after your digestion and getting plenty of +sleep. Its all foolishness for you to talk about growing +old. Why, you are in the prime of life.”</p> +<p>“Hm! Yes. And why don’t you tell me that I +look real handsome, and that the girls are all crazy +for me. You’re an awful jollier, Mrs. Betty, though +I’ll admit that a little jollyin’ does me a powerful lot +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_142' name='page_142'></a>142</span> +of good now and then. I sometimes like to believe +things I know to a certainty ’aint true, if they make +me feel good.”</p> +<p>For a moment Betty kept silent, gazing into the +kindly face, and then the instinct of match-making +asserted itself too strongly to be resisted.</p> +<p>“There’s no sense in your being a lonesome widower. +Why don’t you get married? I mean it.”</p> +<p>For a moment Jonathan was too astounded at the +audacity of the serious suggestion to reply; but when +he recovered his breath he exclaimed:</p> +<p>“Well, I swan to man! What will you ask me to +be doin’ next?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I mean it, all right,” persisted Mrs. Betty. +“Here you’ve got a nice home for a wife, and I tell +you you need the happiness of a real home. You will +live a whole lot longer if you have somebody to love +and look after; and if you want to know what you +will be asking me to do next, I will wager a box of +candy it will be to come to your wedding.”</p> +<p>“Make it cigars, Mrs. Betty; I’m not much on +candy. Maybe you’re up to tellin’ me who’ll have +me. I haven’t noticed any females makin’ advances +towards me in some time now. The only woman I +see every day is Mary McGuire, and she’d make a +pan-cake griddle have the blues if she looked at it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_143' name='page_143'></a>143</span></p> +<p>Mrs. Betty grasped her elbow with one hand, and +putting the first finger of the other hand along the +side of her little nose, whispered:</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with Mrs. Burke?”</p> +<p>Jonathan deliberately pulled a hair from his small +remaining crop and cut it with the scythe, as if he +had not heard Betty’s impertinent suggestion. But +finally he replied:</p> +<p>“There’s nothin’ the matter with Mrs. Burke that +I know of; but that’s no reason why she should be +wantin’ to marry me.”</p> +<p>“She thinks a great deal of you; I know she does.”</p> +<p>“How do you know she does?”</p> +<p>“Well, I heard her say something very nice about +you yesterday.”</p> +<p>“Hm! Did you? What was it?”</p> +<p>“She said that you were the most—the most economical +man she ever met.”</p> +<p>“Sure she didn’t say I was tighter than the bark on +a tree? I guess I ’aint buyin’ no weddin’ ring on the +strength of that. Now, Mrs. Betty, you just try +again. I guess you’re fooling me!”</p> +<p>“Oh no, really I’m not. I never was more serious +in my life. I mean just what I say. I know Mrs. +Burke really thinks a very great deal of you, and if +you like her, you ought to propose to her. Every +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_144' name='page_144'></a>144</span> +moment a man remains single is an outrageous waste +of time.”</p> +<p>Jonathan grinned as he retorted:</p> +<p>“Well, no man would waste any time if all the girls +were like you. They’d all be comin’ early to avoid +the rush. Is Mrs. Burke employin’ your services as +a matrimonial agent? Maybe you won’t mind tellin’ +me what you’re to get if the deal pulls off. Is there +a rake-off anywheres?”</p> +<p>Betty laughed, and Jonathan was silent for a while, +squinting at the scythe-edge, first from one angle, +then from another, and tentatively raising the hone +as if to start sharpening.</p> +<p>“Well, Mrs. Betty,” he said presently, “seein’ I +can’t possibly marry you, I don’t mind tellin’ you that +I think the next best thing would be to marry Hepsey +Burke. She’s been a mighty good friend and neighbor +ever since my wife died; but she wouldn’t look +at the likes of me. ’Twouldn’t be the least use of +proposin’ to her.”</p> +<p>“How do you know it wouldn’t? You are not +afraid of proposing, are you?”</p> +<p>“No, of course not; but I can’t run over and propose, +as I would ask her to lend me some clothes-line. +That’d be too sudden; and courtin’ takes a lot +of time and trouble. I guess I ’most forgot how by +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_145' name='page_145'></a>145</span> +this time; and then, to tell you the truth, I always was +a bit shy. It took me near onto five years to work +myself up to the sticking point when I proposed to my +first wife.”</p> +<p>“Well, now that’s easy enough; Mrs. Burke usually +sits on the side porch after supper with her knitting. +Why don’t you drop over occasionally, and approach +the matter gradually? It wouldn’t take long +to work up to the point.”</p> +<p>“But how shall I begin? I guess you’ll have to +give me lessons.”</p> +<p>“Oh, make her think you are very lonely. Pity is +akin to love, you know.”</p> +<p>“But she knows well enough I’m mighty lonely at +times. That won’t do.”</p> +<p>“Then make her think that you are a regular daredevil, +and are going to the bad. Maybe she’ll marry +you to save you.”</p> +<p>“Me, goin’ to the bad at my age, and the Junior +Warden of the church, too. What are you thinkin’ +of?”</p> +<p>“It is never too late to mend, you know. You +might try being a little frisky, and see what happens.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know what would happen all right. She’d +be over here in two jerks of a lamb’s tail, and read +the riot act, and scare me out of a year’s growth. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_146' name='page_146'></a>146</span> +Hepsey’s not a little thing to be playin’ with.”</p> +<p>“Well, you just make a start. Anything to make +a start, and the rest will come easy.”</p> +<p>“My, how the neighbors’d talk!”</p> +<p>“Talk is cheap; and besides, in a quiet place like +this it’s a positive duty to afford your neighbors some +diversion; you ought to be thankful. You’ll become +a public benefactor. Now will you go ahead?”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Betty, worry’s bad for the nerves, and’s apt +to produce insomny and neurastheny. But I’ll think +it over—yes, I will—I’ll think it over.”</p> +<p>Whereupon he suddenly began to whet his scythe +with such vim as positively startled Betty.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch13.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 380px; height: 325px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_147' name='page_147'></a>147</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_CIRCUS' id='CHAPTER_XIII_THE_CIRCUS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIII</h2> +<h3>THE CIRCUS</h3> +</div> +<p>The Maxwells were, in fact, effectively stirring +up the ambitions of their flock, routing the +older members out of a too easy-going acceptance +of things-as-they-are, and giving to the younger +ones vistas of a life imbued with more color and +variety than had hitherto entered their consciousness. +And yet it happened at Durford, on occasion, that +this awakening of new talents and individuality produced +unlocked for complications.</p> +<p>“Oh yes,” Hepsey remarked one day to Mrs. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_148' name='page_148'></a>148</span> +Betty, when the subject of conversation had turned to +Mrs. Burke’s son and heir, “Nickey means to be a +good boy, but he’s as restless as a kitten on a hot +Johnny-cake. He isn’t a bit vicious, but he do run +his heels down at the corners, and he’s awful wearin’ +on his pants-bottoms and keeps me patchin’ and mendin’ +most of the time—‘contributing to the end in view,’ +as Abraham Lincoln said. But, woman-like, I guess +he finds the warmest spot in my heart when I’m doin’ +some sort of repairin’ on him or his clothes. It would +be easier if his intentions wasn’t so good, ’cause I +could spank him with a clear conscience if he was +vicious. But after all, Nickey seems to have a winnin’ +way about him. He knows every farmer within three +miles; he’ll stop any team he meets, climb into the +wagon seat, take the reins, and enjoy himself to his +heart’s content. All the men seem to like him and +give in to him; more’s the pity! And he seems to +just naturally lead the other kids in their games and +mischief.”</p> +<p>“Oh well, I wouldn’t give a cent for a boy who +didn’t get into mischief sometimes,” consoled Mrs. +Betty.</p> +<p>At which valuation Nickey was then in process of +putting himself and his young friends at a premium. +For, about this time, in their efforts to amuse themselves, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_149' name='page_149'></a>149</span> +Nickey and some of his friends constructed a +circus ring back of the barn: After organizing a +stock company and conducting several rehearsals, the +rest of the boys in the neighborhood were invited to +form an audience, and take seats which had been reserved +for them without extra charge on an adjoining +lumber pile. Besides the regular artists there were a +number of specialists or “freaks,” who added much +to the interest and excitement of the show.</p> +<p>For example, Sam Cooley, attired in one of Mrs. +Burke’s discarded underskirts, filched from the ragbag, +with some dried cornstalk gummed on his face, +impersonated the famous Bearded Lady from Hoboken.</p> +<p>Billy Burns, wearing a very hot and stuffy pillow +buttoned under his coat and thrust down into his +trousers, represented the world-renowned Fat Man +from Spoonville. His was rather a difficult role to +fill gracefully, because the squashy pillow would persist +in bulging out between his trousers and his coat +in a most indecent manner; and it kept him busy most +of the time tucking it in.</p> +<p>Dimple Perkins took the part of the Snake Charmer +from Brooklyn, and at intervals wrestled fearlessly +with a short piece of garden hose which was labeled +on the bills as an “Anna Condy.” This he wound +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_150' name='page_150'></a>150</span> +around his neck in the most reckless manner possible; +it was quite enough to make one’s blood run cold to +watch him.</p> +<p>The King of the Cannibal Islands was draped in +a buffalo robe, with a gilt paper crown adorning his +head, and a very suggestive mutton-bone in his hand.</p> +<p>Poor little Herman Amdursky was selected for the +Living Skeleton, because of the spindle-like character +of his nethermost limbs. He had to remove his +trousers and his coat, and submit to having his ribs +wound with yards of torn sheeting, in order that what +little flesh he had might be compressed to the smallest +possible compass. The result was astonishingly +satisfactory.</p> +<p>The Wild Man from Borneo wore his clothes wrong +side out, as it is well known wild men from Borneo +always do; and he ate grass with avidity. Wry-mouthed +and squint-eyed, he was the incarnation of +the cubist ideal.</p> +<p>When all this splendid array of talent issued from +the dressing-room and marched triumphantly around +the ring, it was indeed a proud moment in the annals +of Durford, and the applause from the lumber pile +could be heard at least two blocks.</p> +<p>After the procession, the entertainment proper consisted +of some high and lofty tumbling, the various +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_151' name='page_151'></a>151</span> +“turns” of the respective stars, and then, last of all, +as a grand finale, Charley, the old raw-boned farm +horse who had been retired on a pension for at least +a year, was led triumphantly into the ring, with Nickey +Burke standing on his back!</p> +<p>Charley, whose melancholy aspect was a trifle more +abject than usual, and steps more halting, meekly followed +the procession of actors around the ring, led +by Dimple, the Snake Charmer. Nickey’s entree created +a most profound sensation, and was greeted with +tumultuous applause—a tribute both to his equestrian +feat and to his costume.</p> +<p>Nickey had once attended a circus at which he had +been greatly impressed by the artistic decorations on +the skin of a tattooed man, and by the skill of the +bareback rider who had turned somersaults while the +horse was in motion. It occurred to him that perhaps +he might present somewhat of both these attractions, +in one character.</p> +<p>Maxwell had innocently stimulated this taste by +lending him a book illustrated with lurid color-plates +of Indians in full war paint, according to tribe.</p> +<p>So Nickey removed his clothes, attired himself in +abbreviated red swimming trunks, and submitted to +the artistic efforts of Dimple, who painted most intricate, +elaborate, and beautiful designs on Nickey’s person, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_152' name='page_152'></a>152</span> +with a thick solution of indigo purloined from +the laundry.</p> +<p>Nickey’s breast was adorned with a picture of a +ship under full sail. On his back was a large heart +pierced with two arrows. A vine of full blown roses +twined around each arm, while his legs were powdered +with stars, periods, dashes, and exclamation points in +rich profusion. A triangle was painted on each cheek, +and dabs of indigo were added to the end of his nose +and to the lobe of each ear by way of finishing touches.</p> +<p>When the work was complete, Nickey surveyed +himself in a piece of broken mirror in the dressing-room, +and to tell the truth, was somewhat appalled +at his appearance; but Dimple Perkins hastened to +assure him, saying that a dip in the river would easily +remove the indigo; and that he was the living spit and +image of a tattooed man, and that his appearance, +posed on the back of Charley, would certainly bring +the house down.</p> +<p>Dimple proved to be quite justified in his statement, +so far as the effect on the audience was concerned; +for, as Nickey entered the ring, after one moment of +breathless astonishment, the entire crowd arose as +one man and cheered itself hoarse, in a frenzy of +frantic delight. Now whether Charley was enthused +by the applause, or whether the situation reminded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_153' name='page_153'></a>153</span> +him of some festive horseplay of his youth, one cannot +tell. At any rate, what little life was left in Charley’s +blood asserted itself. Quickly jerking the rope +of the halter from the astonished hand of Dimple +Perkins, Charley turned briskly round, and trotted +out of the yard and into the road, while Nickey, who +had found himself suddenly astride Charley’s back, +made frantic efforts to stop him.</p> +<p>As Charley emerged from the gate, the freaks, the +regular artists, the gymnasts, and the entire audience +followed, trailing along behind the mounted tattooed +man, and shouting themselves hoarse with encouragement +or derision.</p> +<p>As Charley rose to the occasion and quickened his +pace, the heat of the sun, the violent exercise of riding +bareback, and the nervous excitement produced by +the horror of the situation, threw Nickey into a profuse +sweat. The bluing began to run. The decorations +on his forehead trickled down into his eyes; and +as he tried to rub off the moisture with the back of +his hand the indigo was smeared liberally over his +face. His personal identity was hopelessly obscured +in the indigo smudge; and the most vivid imagination +could not conjecture what had happened to the boy. +It was by no means an easy feat to retain his seat on +Charley’s back; it would have been still more difficult +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_154' name='page_154'></a>154</span> +to dismount, at his steed’s brisk pace; and Nickey +was most painfully conscious of his attire, as Charley +turned up the road which led straight to the village. +At each corner the procession was reinforced by a +number of village boys who added their quota to the +general uproar and varied the monotony of the proceeding +by occasionally throwing a tin can at the rider +on the white horse. When Charley passed the rectory, +and the green, and turned into Church Street, +Nickey felt that he had struck rock bottom of shameful +humiliation.</p> +<p>For many years it had been Charley’s habit to take +Mrs. Burke down to church on Wednesday afternoons +for the five o’clock service; and although he +had been out of commission and docked for repairs +for some time, his subliminal self must have got in its +work, and the old habit asserted itself: to the church +he went, attended at a respectful distance by the +Bearded Lady, the Fat Man, the Snake Charmer, the +King of the Cannibal Islands, the Living Skeleton, +and the Wild Man from Borneo, to say nothing of a +large and effective chorus of roaring villagers bringing +up the rear.</p> +<p>It really was quite clever of Charley to recall that, +this being Wednesday, it was the proper day to visit +the church,—as clever as it was disturbing to Nickey +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_155' name='page_155'></a>155</span> +when he, too, recalled that it was about time for the +service to be over, and that his mother must be somewhere +on the premises, to say nothing of the assembled +mothers of the entire stock company—and the +rector, and the rector’s wife.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke, poor woman, was quite unconscious of +what awaited her, as she emerged from the service +with the rest of the congregation. It was an amazed +parent that caught sight of her son and heir scrambling +off the back of his steed onto the horse-block in +front of the church, clad in short swimming trunks +and much bluing. The freaks, the regular artists, +the gymnasts, and the circus audience generally +shrieked and howled and fought each other, in frantic +effort to succeed to Nickey’s place on Charley’s back—for +Charley now stood undismayed and immovable, +with a gentle, pious look in his soft old eyes.</p> +<p>For one instant, Mrs. Burke and her friends stood +paralyzed with horror; and then like the good mothers +in Israel that they were, each jumped to the rescue +of her own particular darling—that is, as soon as +she could identify him. Consternation reigned supreme. +Mrs. Cooley caught the Bearded Lady by +the arm and shook him fiercely, just as he was about +to land an uppercut on the jaw of the King of the +Cannibal Islands. Mrs. Burns found her offspring, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_156' name='page_156'></a>156</span> +the Fat Man, lying dispossessed on his back in the +gutter, while Sime Wilkins, the Man Who Ate Glass, +sat comfortably on his stomach. Sime immediately +apologized to Mrs. Burns and disappeared. Next, +Mrs. Perkins took the Snake Charmer by his collar, +and rapped him soundly with the piece of garden hose +which she captured as he was using it to chastise the +predatory Wild Man from Borneo. Other members +of the company received equally unlooked-for censure +of their dramatic efforts.</p> +<p>Nickey, meantime, had fled to the pump behind the +church, where he made his ablutions as best he could; +then, seeing the vestry room door ajar, he, in his extremity, +bolted for the quiet seclusion of the sanctuary.</p> +<p>To his surprise and horror, he found Maxwell seated +at a table looking over the parish records; and +when Nickey appeared, still rather blue, attired in +short red trunks, otherwise unadorned, Donald gazed +at him in mute astonishment. For one moment there +was silence as they eyed each other; and then Maxwell +burst into roars of uncontrollable laughter, which +were not quite subdued as Nickey gave a rather incoherent +account of the misfortune which had brought +him to such a predicament.</p> +<p>“So you were the Tattooed Man, were you! Well, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_157' name='page_157'></a>157</span> +I suppose you know that it’s not generally customary +to appear in church in red tights; but as you couldn’t +help it, I shall have to see what can be done for you, +to get you home clothed and in your right mind. I’ll +tell you! You can put on one of the choir boy’s +cassocks, and skip home the back way. If anybody +stops you tell them you were practising for the choir, +and it will be all right. But really, Nickey, if I were +in your place, the next time I posed as a mounted +Tattooed Man, I’d be careful to choose some old +quadruped that couldn’t run away with you!”</p> +<p>“Then you aren’t mad at me!”</p> +<p>“Certainly not. I’ll leave that to my betters! You +just get home as fast as you can.”</p> +<p>“Gee! but you’re white all right—you know it +didn’t say nothing in the book, about what kind of +paint to use!”</p> +<p>Maxwell’s eyes opened. “What book are you +talking about, Nickey?” he asked.</p> +<p>“The one you let me take, with the Indians in it.”</p> +<p>Maxwell had to laugh again. “So that’s where the +idea for this ‘Carnival of Wild West Sports’ originated, +eh?”</p> +<p>“Yes, sir,” Nickey nodded. “Everybody wanted +to be the tattooed man, but seeing as I had the book, +and old Charley was my horse, I couldn’t see any +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_158' name='page_158'></a>158</span> +good reason why I shouldn’t get tattooed. Gee! I’ll +bet ma will be mad!”</p> +<p>After being properly vested in a cassock two sizes +too large for him, Nickey started on a dead run for +home, and, having reached the barn, dressed himself +in his customary attire. When he appeared at supper +Mrs. Burke did not say anything; but after the +dishes were washed she took him apart and listened +to his version of the affair.</p> +<p>“Nicholas Burke,” she said, “if this thing occurs +again I shall punish you in a way you won’t like.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’m awfully sorry,” said Nickey, “but it +didn’t seem to feaze Mr. Maxwell a little bit. He +just sat and roared as if he’d split his sides. I guess +I ’aint goin’ to be put out of the church just yet, anyway.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke looked a bit annoyed.</p> +<p>“Never mind about Mr. Maxwell. <i>You</i> won’t +laugh if anything like this occurs again, I can tell +you,” she replied.</p> +<p>“Now, ma,” soothed Nickey, “don’t you worry +about it occurrin’ again. You don’t suppose I did +it on purpose, do you? Gosh no! I wouldn’t get onto +Charley’s back again, with my clothes off, any more +than I’d sit on a hornet’s nest. How’d you like to +ride through the town with nothin’ on but your swimmin’ +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_159' name='page_159'></a>159</span> +trunks and drippin’ with bluin water, I’d like to +know?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke did not care to prolong the interview +any further, so she said in her severest tones:</p> +<p>“Nicholas Burke, you go to bed instantly. I’ve +heard enough of you and seen enough of you, for one +day.”</p> +<p>Nickey went.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch14.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 384px; height: 330px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_160' name='page_160'></a>160</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIV_ON_THE_SIDE_PORCH' id='CHAPTER_XIV_ON_THE_SIDE_PORCH'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIV</h2> +<h3>ON THE SIDE PORCH</h3> +</div> +<p>In the evening, after his work was done, a day or +two after his talk with Mrs. Maxwell, Jonathan +went into the house and took a long look +at himself in the glass, with the satisfactory conclusion +that he didn’t look so old after all. Why shouldn’t +he take Mrs. Betty’s advice and marry? To be sure, +there was no fool like an old fool, but no man could +be called a fool who was discriminating enough, and +resourceful enough, to win the hand of Hepsey Burke. +To his certain knowledge she had had plenty of eligible +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_161' name='page_161'></a>161</span> +suitors since her husband’s death. She was the +acknowledged past-master of doughnuts; and her +pickled cucumbers done in salad oil were dreams of +delight. What more could a man want?</p> +<p>So he found that the question was deciding itself +apparently without any volition whatever on his part. +His fate was sealed; he had lost his heart and his +appetite to his neighbor. Having come to this conclusion, +it was wonderful how the thought excited +him. He took a bath and changed his clothes, and +then proceeded to town and bought himself a white +neck-tie, and a scarf-pin that cost seventy-five cents. +He was going to do the thing in the proper way if he +did it at all.</p> +<p>After supper he mustered sufficient courage to present +himself at the side porch where Mrs. Burke was +knitting on a scarlet sweater for Nickey.</p> +<p>“Good evenin’, Hepsey,” he began. “How are you +feelin’ to-night?”</p> +<p>“Oh, not so frisky as I might, Jonathan; I’d be +all right if it weren’t for my rheumatiz.”</p> +<p>“Well, we all have our troubles, Hepsey; and if +it isn’t one thing it’s most generally another. You +mustn’t rebel against rheumatiz. It’s one of those +things sent to make us better, and we must bear up +against it, you know.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_162' name='page_162'></a>162</span></p> +<p>Hepsey did not respond to this philosophy, and +Jonathan felt that it was high time that he got down +to business. So he began again:</p> +<p>“It seems to me as if we might have rain before +long if the wind don’t change.”</p> +<p>“Shouldn’t be surprised, Jonathan. One—two—three—four—” Mrs. +Burke replied, her attention divided +between her visitor and her sweater. “Got your +hay all in?”</p> +<p>“Yes, most of it. ’Twon’t be long before the long +fall evenin’s will be comin’ on, and I kinder dread +’em. They’re awful lonesome, Hepsey.”</p> +<p>“Purl two, knit two, an inch and a half—” Mrs. +Burke muttered to herself as she read the printed +directions which lay in her lap, and then she added +encouragingly:</p> +<p>“So you get lonesome, do you, Jonathan, durin’ +the long evenin’s, when it gets dark early.”</p> +<p>“Oh, awful lonesome,” Jonathan responded. +“Don’t you ever get lonesome yourself, Hepsey?”</p> +<p>“I can’t say as it kept me awake nights. ’Tisn’t +bein’ alone that makes you lonesome. The most awful +lonesomeness in the world is bein’ in a crowd +that’s not your kind.”</p> +<p>“That’s so, Hepsey. But two isn’t a crowd. Don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_163' name='page_163'></a>163</span> +you think you’d like to get married, if you had a right +good chance, now?”</p> +<p>Hepsey gave her visitor a quick, sharp glance, and +inquired:</p> +<p>“What would you consider a right good chance, +Jonathan?”</p> +<p>“Oh, suppose that some respectable widower with +a tidy sum in the bank should ask you to marry him; +what would you say, Hepsey?”</p> +<p>“Can’t say until I’d seen the widower, to say nothin’ +of the bank book—one, two, three, four, five, six—”</p> +<p>Jonathan felt that the crisis was now approaching; +so, moving his chair a little nearer, he resumed excitedly:</p> +<p>“You’ve seen him, Hepsey; you’ve seen him lots of +times, and he don’t live a thousand miles away, +neither.”</p> +<p>“Hm! Must be he lives in Martin’s Junction. Is +he good lookin’, Jonathan?”</p> +<p>“Oh, fair to middlin’. That is—of course—I well—I—I +should think he was; but tastes differ.”</p> +<p>“Well, you know I’m right particular, Jonathan. +Is he real smart and clever?”</p> +<p>“I don’t know as—I ought to—to—say, Hepsey; +but I rather guess he knows enough to go in when it +rains.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_164' name='page_164'></a>164</span></p> +<p>“That’s good as far as it goes. The next time +you see him, you tell him to call around and let me +look him over. Maybe I could give him a job on +the farm, even if I didn’t want to marry him.”</p> +<p>“But he doesn’t want any job on the farm, Hepsey. +He just wants you, that’s all.”</p> +<p>“How do you know he does? Did he ever tell +you?”</p> +<p>“Hepsey Burke, don’t you know who I’m alludin’ +at? Haven’t you ever suspected nothin’?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I’ve suspected lots of things. Now there’s +Jack Dempsey. I’ve suspected him waterin’ the milk +for some time. Haven’t you ever suspected anythin’ +yourself, Jonathan?”</p> +<p>“Well, I guess I’m suspectin’ that you’re tryin’ to +make a fool of me, all right.”</p> +<p>“Oh no! Fools come ready-made, and there’s a +glut in the market just now; seven—eight—nine—ten; +no use makin’ more until the supply’s exhausted. +But what made you think you wanted to marry? This +is so powerful sudden.”</p> +<p>Now that the point was reached, Jonathan got a +little nervous: “To—to tell you the truth, Hepsey,” +he stuttered, “I was in doubt about it myself for some +time; but bein’ as I am a Christian man I turned to +the Bible for light on my path.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_165' name='page_165'></a>165</span></p> +<p>“Hm! And how did the light shine?”</p> +<p>“Well, I just shut my eyes and opened my Bible +at random, and put my finger on a text. Then I +opened my eyes and read what was written.”</p> +<p>“Yes! What did you find?”</p> +<p>“I read somethin’ about ‘not a man of them escaped +save six hundred that rode away on camels.’”</p> +<p>“Did that clear up all your difficulties?”</p> +<p>“No, can’t say as it did. But those words about +‘no man escapin’’ seemed to point towards matrimony +as far as they went. Then I tried a second +time.”</p> +<p>“Oh did you? I should think that six hundred +camels would be enough for one round-up. What +luck did you have the second time?”</p> +<p>“Well, I read, ‘Moab is my wash pot, over Edom +will I cast out my shoe.’ You’ve seen ’em cast shoes +at the carriages of brides and grooms, haven’t you, +Hepsey? Just for luck, you know. So it seemed to +point towards matrimony again.”</p> +<p>“Say, Jonathan, you certainly have a wonderful +gift for interpretin’ Scripture.”</p> +<p>“Well, Scripture or no Scripture, I want you, Hepsey.”</p> +<p>“Am I to understand that you’re just fadin’ and +pinin’ away for love of me? You don’t look thin.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_166' name='page_166'></a>166</span></p> +<p>“Oh, we ’aint neither of us as young as we once +was, Hepsey. Of course I can’t be expected to pine +real hard.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid it’s not the real thing, Jonathan, unless +you pine. Don’t it keep you awake nights, or +take away your appetite, or make you want to play +the banjo, or nothin’?”</p> +<p>“No, Hepsey; to tell you the plain truth, it don’t. +But I feel awful lonesome, and I like you a whole lot, +and I—I love you as much as anyone, I guess.”</p> +<p>“So you are in love are you, Jonathan. Then let +me give you some good advice. When you’re in love, +don’t believe all you think, or half you feel, or anything +at all you are perfectly sure of. It’s dangerous +business. But I am afraid that you’re askin’ me because +it makes you think that you are young and +giddy, like the rest of the village boys, to be proposin’ +to a shy young thing like me.”</p> +<p>“No, Hepsey; you aren’t no shy young thing, and +you haven’t been for nigh on forty years. I wouldn’t +be proposin’ to you if you were.”</p> +<p>“Jonathan, your manners need mendin’ a whole +lot. The idea of insinuatin’ that I am not a shy young +thing. I’m ashamed of you, and I’m positive we +could never get along together.”</p> +<p>“But I can’t tell a lie about you, even if I do want +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_167' name='page_167'></a>167</span> +to marry you. You don’t want to marry a liar, do +you?”</p> +<p>“Well, the fact is, Jonathan, polite lyin’s the real +foundation of all good manners. What we’ll ever +do when we get to heaven where we have to tell the +truth whether we want to or not, I’m sure I don’t +know. It’ll be awful uncomfortable until we get +used to it.”</p> +<p>“The law says you should tell the truth, the whole +truth, and nothin’ but the truth,” persisted the literal +wooer.</p> +<p>“Now, see here, Jonathan. Would you say that a +dog’s tail was false and misleadin’ just because it +isn’t the whole dog?”</p> +<p>This proposition was exceedingly confusing to Jonathan’s +intelligence, but after careful consideration +he felt obliged to say “No.”</p> +<p>“Of course you wouldn’t,” Mrs. Burke continued +triumphantly, quickly following up her advantage. +“You see a dog’s tail couldn’t be misleading, ’cause +the dog leads the tail, and not the tail the dog. Any +fool could see that.”</p> +<p>Jonathan felt that he had been tricked, although he +could not see just how the thing had been accomplished; +so he began again:</p> +<p>“Now Hepsey, we’re wanderin’ from the point, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_168' name='page_168'></a>168</span> +and you’re just talkin’ to amuse yourself. Can’t you +come down to business? Here I am a widower, and +here you are a widowess, and we’re both lonesome, +and we––”</p> +<p>“Who told you I was lonesome, I’d like to know?”</p> +<p>“Well, of course you didn’t, ’cause you never tell +anything to anyone. But I guessed you was sometimes, +from the looks of you.”</p> +<p>Hepsey bent her head over her work and counted +stitches a long time before she looked up. Then she +remarked slowly:</p> +<p>“There’s an awful lot of sick people in the world, +and I’m mighty sorry for ’em; but they’ll die, or +they’ll get well. I guess I’m more sorry for people +who have to go on livin’, and workin’ hard, when +they’re just dyin’ for somebody to love ’em, and somebody +to love, until the pain of it hurts like a wisdom +tooth. No, I can’t afford to be lonesome much, and +that’s a fact. So I just keep busy, and if I get too +lonesome, I just go and jolly somebody that’s lonesomer +than I am, and we both feel better; and if I +get lonely lyin’ awake at night, I light a lamp and +read Webster’s Dictionary. Try it, Jonathan; it’s a +sure anti-doubt.”</p> +<p>“There you go again, tryin’ to change the subject, +just when I thought you was goin’ to say somethin’.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_169' name='page_169'></a>169</span></p> +<p>“But you don’t really want to marry me. I’m not +young, and I’m not interestin’: one or the other you’ve +just got to be.”</p> +<p>“You’re mighty interestin’ to me, Hepsey, anyway; +and—and you’re mighty unselfish.”</p> +<p>“Well, you needn’t throw that in my face; I’m not +to blame for bein’ unselfish. I’ve just had to be, +whether I wanted or not. It’s my misfortune, not my +fault. Lots of people are unselfish because they’re +too weak to stand up for their own rights.” She +paused—and then looked up at him, smiling whimsically, +and added: “Well, well, Jonathan; see here +now—I’ll think it over, and perhaps some day before—<i>go +’way</i>, you horrid thing! Let go my hand, I tell +you. There! You’ve made me drop a whole row of +stitches. If you don’t run over home right now, before +you’re tempted to do any more flirtin, I’ll—I’ll +hold you for breach of promise.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch15.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 386px; height: 346px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_170' name='page_170'></a>170</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XV_NICKEYS_SOCIAL_AMBITIONS' id='CHAPTER_XV_NICKEYS_SOCIAL_AMBITIONS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XV</h2> +<h3>NICKEY’S SOCIAL AMBITIONS</h3> +</div> +<p>To Nickey, the Maxwells were in the nature of +a revelation. At his impressionable stage of +boyhood, and because of their freedom from +airs and graces of any kind, he was quick to notice +the difference in type—“some class to them; not snobs +or dudes, but the real thing,” as he expressed it. His +ardent admiration of Donald, and his adoration of +Mrs. Betty, gave him ambition to find the key to their +secret, and to partake of it.</p> +<p>He was too shy to speak of it,—to his mother last +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_171' name='page_171'></a>171</span> +of all, as is the nature of a boy,—and had to rely on +an observant and receptive mind for the earlier steps +in his quest. When Maxwell boarded with them, +Nickey had discovered that he was won’t to exercise +with dumb-bells each morning before breakfast. The +very keenness of his desire to be initiated, held him +silent. A visit to the town library, on his mother’s +behalf, chanced to bring his eyes—generally oblivious +of everything in the shape of a book—upon the title +of a certain volume designed to instruct in various +parlor-feats of physical prowess.</p> +<p>The book was borrowed from the librarian,—a +little shamefacedly. The next morning Mrs. Burke +was somewhat alarmed at the noise which came from +Nickey’s room, and when there was a crash as if the +chimney had fallen, she could stand it no longer, +and hurried aloft. Nickey stood in the middle of +the floor, clad in swimming trunks, gripping a large +weight (purloined from the barn) in either hand, +very red in the face, and much out of breath.</p> +<p>As the door unexpectedly opened he dived for bed +and pulled the clothes under his chin.</p> +<p>“Land Sakes!” Hepsey breathed, aghast. “What’s +all this about? If there’s a nail loose in the flooring +I can lend you a hammer for the asking,” and she examined +several jagged dents in the boards. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_172' name='page_172'></a>172</span></p> +<p>“Say ma,” urged Nickey in moving tones. “If I’d +a pair of dumb-bells like Mr. Maxwell’s, I c’d hold +onto ’em. I’ve pretty near smashed my feet with +them things—gosh darn it,” he added ruefully, nursing +the bruised member under the clothes.</p> +<p>“I guess you can get ’em, next time you go to +Martin’s Junction; but if it’s exercise you want,” his +parent remarked unsympathetically, “there’s plenty of +kindlin’ in the woodshed wants choppin’.”</p> +<p>She retired chuckling to herself, as she caught a +glimmer of what was working in her son’s mind.</p> +<p>The “reading habit” having been inculcated by +this lucky find at the library, it was not long before +Nickey acquired from the same source a veritable collection +of volumes on the polite arts and crafts—“The +Ready Letter-Writer”; “Manners Maketh Man”; +“Seven Thousand Errors of Speech;” “Social Culture +in the Smart Set,” and the like.</p> +<p>Nickey laboriously studied from these authorities +how to enter a ball room, how to respond to a toast +at a dinner given in one’s honor, how to propose the +health of his hostess, and how to apologize for treading +on a lady’s train.</p> +<p>In the secrecy of his chamber he put into practice +the helpful suggestions of these invaluable manuals. +He bowed to the washstand, begged the favor of the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_173' name='page_173'></a>173</span> +next dance from the towel rack, trod on the window +shade and made the prescribed apology. Then he +discussed the latest novel at dinner with a distinguished +personage; and having smoked an invisible +cigar, interspersed with such wit as accords with walnuts +and wine, after the ladies had retired, he entered +the drawing-room, exchanged parting amenities with +the guests, bade his hostess good night, and gracefully +withdrew to the clothes-press.</p> +<p>Several times Hepsey caught glimpses of him going +through the dumb show of “Social Culture in the +Smart Set,” and her wondering soul was filled with +astonishment at his amazing evolutions. She found +it in her heart to speak of it to Mrs. Betty and Maxwell, +and ask for their interpretation of the matter.</p> +<p>So, one day, during this seizure of feverish enthusiasm +for self-culture, Hepsey and Nickey received an +invitation to take supper at the rectory. Nevertheless, +Mrs. Burke thought it prudent to give her son +some good advice in regard to his behavior. She +realized, perhaps, that a book is good so far as it +goes, but is apt to ignore elementals. So she called +him aside before they started:</p> +<p>“Now, Nickey, remember to act like a gentleman, +especially at the table; you must try to do credit to +your bringin’ up.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_174' name='page_174'></a>174</span></p> +<p>“Yes, I’ll do my level best if it kills me,” the boy +replied.</p> +<p>“Well, what do you do with your napkin when you +first sit down to the table?”</p> +<p>“Tie it ’round my neck, of course!”</p> +<p>“Oh, no, you mustn’t do anything of the sort; you +must just tuck it in your collar, like any gentleman +would. And when we come home what are you goin’ +to say to Mrs. Maxwell?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’ll say, ‘I’ll see you later.’”</p> +<p>“Mercy no! Say, ‘I’ve had a very nice time.’”</p> +<p>“But suppose I didn’t have a nice time,—what’d +I say?”</p> +<p>For a moment Hepsey struggled to reconcile her +code of ethics with her idea of good manners, and +then replied:</p> +<p>“Why say, ‘Mrs. Maxwell, it was awfully good of +you to ask me,’ and I don’t believe she’ll notice anything +wrong about that.”</p> +<p>“Hm!” Nickey retorted scornfully. “Seems pretty +much like the same thing to me.”</p> +<p>“Oh no! Not in the least. Now what will you +wear when we go to the rectory?”</p> +<p>“My gray suit, and tan shoes, and the green tie +with the purple spots on it.”</p> +<p>“Who’ll be the first to sit down to the table?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_175' name='page_175'></a>175</span></p> +<p>“Search me—maybe I will, if there’s good eats.”</p> +<p>“Nonsense! You must wait for Mrs. Maxwell and +the rector to be seated first.”</p> +<p>“Well,” Nickey exclaimed in exasperation, “I’m +bound to make some horrible break anyway, so don’t +you worry, ma. It seems to me from what them +books say, that when you go visitin’ you’ve got to +tell lies like a sinner; and you can’t tell the truth till +you get home with the door shut. I never was good +at lyin’; I always get caught.”</p> +<p>“It isn’t exactly lyin’, Nickey; its just sayin’ nice +things, and keepin’ your mouth shut about the rest. +Now suppose you dropped a fork under the table, +what’d you say?”</p> +<p>“I’d say ‘’scuse me, Mrs. Maxwell, but one of the +forks has gone, and you can go through my clothes +if you want to before I go home.’”</p> +<p>“Hm!” Hepsey remarked dryly, “I guess the less +you say, the better.”</p> +<p>Arrived at the rectory, Nickey felt under some restraint +when they first sat down to the supper table; +but under the genial manner of Mrs. Maxwell +he soon felt at his ease, and not even his observant +mother detected any dire breach of table etiquette. +His conversation was somewhat spare, his attention +being absorbed and equally divided between observation +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_176' name='page_176'></a>176</span> +of his host and consumption of the feast set before +him. With sure tact, Mrs. Betty—though regarding +Nickey as the guest of honor—that evening—deferred +testing the results of his conversational +studies until after supper: one thing at once, she decided, +was fair play.</p> +<p>After the meal was over, they repaired together to +the parlor, and while Hepsey took out her wash-rag +knitting and Maxwell smoked his cigar, Mrs. Betty +gave Nickey her undivided attention.</p> +<p>In order to interest the young people of the place +in the missionary work of the parish, Mrs. Betty had +organized a guild of boys who were to earn what they +could towards the support of a missionary in the west. +The Guild had been placed under the fostering care +and supervision of Nickey as its treasurer, and was +known by the name of “The Juvenile Band of Gleaners.” +In the course of the evening Mrs. Maxwell +took occasion to inquire what progress they were making, +thereby unconsciously challenging a somewhat +surprising recountal.</p> +<p>“Well,” Nickey replied readily, “we’ve got forty-six +cents in the treasury; that’s just me, you know; I +keep the cash in my pants pocket.”</p> +<p>Then he smiled uneasily, and fidgeted in his chair.</p> +<p>There was something in Nickey’s tone and look +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_177' name='page_177'></a>177</span> +that excited Mrs. Betty’s curiosity, and made his +mother stop knitting and look at him anxiously over +her glasses.</p> +<p>“That is very good for a start,” Mrs. Betty commended. +“How did you raise all that, Nickey?”</p> +<p>For a moment Nickey colored hotly, looked embarrassed, +and made no reply. Then mustering up his +courage, and laughing, he began:</p> +<p>“Well, Mrs. Maxwell, it was just like this. Maybe +you won’t like it, but I’ll tell you all the same. Bein’ +as I was the president of the Juv’nul Band of Gleaners, +I though I’d get the kids together, and start +somethin’. Saturday it rained cats and dogs, so Billy +Burns, Sam Cooley, Dimple Perkins and me, we went +up into the hay loft, and I said to the kids, ‘You fellows +have got to cough up some dough for the church, +and––’”</p> +<p>“Contribute money, Nickey. Don’t be slangy,” his +mother interjected.</p> +<p>“Well I says, ‘I’m runnin’ the Juv’nals, and you’ve +got to do just what I say. I’ve got a dandy scheme +for raisin’ money and we’ll have some fun doin’ it, +or I miss my guess.’ Then I asked Sam Cooley how +much money he’d got, and Sam, he had forty-four +cents, Billy Burns had fifty-two cents, and Dimple had +only two. Dimp never did have much loose cash, anyway. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_178' name='page_178'></a>178</span> +But I said to Dimp, ‘Never mind, Dimp; you +aint to blame. Your dad’s an old skinflint. I’ll lend +you six to start off with.’ Then I made Billy Burns +sweep the floor, while Sam went down to the chicken +yard and caught my bantam rooster, Tooley. Then +I sent Dimp after some chalk, and an empty peach +basket, and a piece of cord. Then we was ready for +business.</p> +<p>“I marked a big circle on the barn floor with the +chalk, and divided it into four quarters with straight +lines runnin’ through the middle. Then I turned the +peach basket upside down, and tied one end of the +string on the bottom, and threw the other end up over +a beam overhead, so I could pull the basket off from +the floor up to the beam by the string. You see,” +Nickey illustrated with graphic gestures, “the basket +hung just over the middle of the circle like a bell. +Then I took the rooster and stuck him under the basket. +Tooley hollered and scratched like Sam Hill and––”</p> +<p>“For mercy sake, Nickey! What will you say +next?”</p> +<p>“Say, ma, you just wait and see. Well, Tooley +kicked like everything, but he had to go under just +the same. Then I said to the kids to sit around the +circle on the floor, and each choose one of the four +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_179' name='page_179'></a>179</span> +quarters for hisself,—one for each of us. ‘Now,’ I +said, ‘you must each cough up––’”</p> +<p>“Nicholas!”</p> +<p>“Oh ma, do let me tell it without callin’ me down +every time. ‘You kids must hand out a cent apiece +and put it on the floor in your own quarter. Then, +when I say ready, I’ll pull the string and raise the +basket and let Tooley out. Tooley’ll get scared and +run. If he runs off the circle through my quarter, +then the four cents are mine; but if he runs through +Dimp’s quarter, then the four cents are Dimp’s.’</p> +<p>“It was real excitin’ when I pulled the string, and +the basket went up. You’d ought to ’ve been there, +Mrs. Maxwell. You’d have laughed fit to split––”</p> +<p>“Nicholas Burke, you must stop talkin’ like that, +or I’ll send you home,” reproved Mrs. Burke, looking +severely at her son, and with deprecating side-glances +at his audience.</p> +<p>“Excuse me, ma. It will be all over in a minute. +But really, you’d have laughed like sin—I mean you’d +have just laughed yourself sick. Tooley was awful +nervous when the basket went up. For a minute he +crouched and stood still, scared stiff at the three kids, +all yellin’ like mad; then he ducked his head and bolted +off the circle through my quarter and flew up on a +beam. I thought the kids would bust.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_180' name='page_180'></a>180</span></p> +<p>Mrs. Burke sighed heavily.</p> +<p>“Well, burst, then. But while they were laughin’ I +raked in the cash. You see I just had to. I won it +for fair. I’d kept quiet, and that’s why Tooley come +across my quarter.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Maxwell was sorting over her music, while +Maxwell’s face was hidden behind a paper. Mrs. +Burke was silent through despair. Nickey glanced +furtively at his hearers for a moment and then continued:</p> +<p>“Yes, the kids was tickled; but they got awful quiet +when I told them to fork over another cent apiece for +the jack-pot.”</p> +<p>“What in the name of conscience is a jack-pot?” +Hepsey asked.</p> +<p>Donald laughed and Nickey continued:</p> +<p>“A jack-pot’s a jack-pot; there isn’t no other name +that I ever heard of. We caught Tooley and stuck +him under the basket, and made him do it all over +again. You see, every time when Tooley got loose, +the kids all leant forward and yelled like mad; but I +just kept my mouth shut, and leaned way back out of +the way so that Tooley’d run out through my quarter. +So I won most all the time.”</p> +<p>There was a pause, while Nickey looked a +bit apprehensively at his audience. But he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_181' name='page_181'></a>181</span> +went on gamely to the end of the chapter.</p> +<p>“Once Tooley made a bolt in a straight line through +Dimp’s quarter, and hit Dimp in the mouth, and +bowled him over like a nine-pin. Dimp was scared +to death, and howled like murder till he found he’d +scooped the pot; then he got quiet. After we made +Tooley run ten times, he struck work and wouldn’t +run any more; so we just had to let him go; but I +didn’t care nothn’ about that, ’cause you see I had +the kids’ cash in my pants pocket, and that was what I +was after. Well, sir, when it was all over, ’cause I’d +busted the bank––”</p> +<p>“Nicholas Burke, I am ashamed of you.”</p> +<p>“Never mind, ma; I’m most through now. When +they found I’d busted the bank, they looked kind of +blue, and Dimp Perkins said it was a skin game, and +I was a bunco steerer.”</p> +<p>“What did you say to that?” Donald inquired.</p> +<p>“Oh, I just said it was all for religion, it was +church money, and it was all right. I was just gleanin’ +what few cents they had, to pay the church debt +to the missionary; and they ought to be ashamed to +have a church debt hangin’ over ’em, and they’d +oughter be more cheerful ’bout givin’ a little somethin’ +toward raisin’ of it.”</p> +<p>When Nickey had finished, there was an ominous +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_182' name='page_182'></a>182</span> +silence for a moment or two, and then his mother said +sternly:</p> +<p>“What do you suppose Mrs. Perkins will say when +she finds that you’ve tricked her son into a regular +gambling scheme, to get his money away from +him?”</p> +<p>“Mrs. Perkins,” retorted Nickey, thoroughly +aroused by the soft impeachment. “I should worry! +At the church fair, before Mr. Maxwell came, she +ran a fancy table, and tried to sell a baby blanket to +an old bachelor; but he wouldn’t take it. Then when +he wasn’t lookin’, blessed if she didn’t turn around +and tie the four corners together with a bit of ribbon, +and sell it to him for a handkerchief case. She got +two dollars for it, and it wasn’t worth seventy-five +cents. She was as proud as a dog with two tails, and +went around tellin’ everybody.”</p> +<p>Silence reigned, ominous and general, and Nickey +braced himself for the storm. Even Mrs. Maxwell +didn’t look at him, and that was pretty bad. He began +to get hot all over, and the matter was fast assuming +a new aspect in his own mind which made him +ashamed of himself. His spirits sank lower and lower. +Finally his mother remarked quietly:</p> +<p>“Nickey, I thought you were goin’ to be a gentleman.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_183' name='page_183'></a>183</span></p> +<p>“That’s straight, all right, what I’ve told you,” he +murmured abashed.</p> +<p>There was another silent pause—presently broken +by Nickey.</p> +<p>“I guess I hadn’t thought about it, just that way. +I guess I’ll give the kids their money back,” he volunteered +despondently—“only I’ll have to make it up, +some way, in the treasury.” He felt in his pockets, +and jingled the coins.</p> +<p>Another pause—with only the ticking of his mother’s +knitting needles to relieve the oppressive silence. +Suddenly the worried pucker disappeared from his +brow, and his face brightened like a sun-burst.</p> +<p>“I’ve got it, Mrs. Maxwell,” he cried. “I’ve got +seventy-five cents comin’ to me down at the Variety +Store, for birch-bark frames, and I’ll give that for the +blamed old missionaries. That’s square, ’aint it +now?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Betty’s commendation and her smile were +salve to the wounds of her young guest, and Donald’s +hearty laughter soon dispelled the sense of social +failure which was beginning to cloud Nickey’s happy +spirit.</p> +<p>“Say Nickey,” said Maxwell, throwing down his +paper, “Mrs. Betty and I want to start a Boy Scout +Corps in the parish, and with your resourceful genius +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_184' name='page_184'></a>184</span> +you could get the boys together, and explain it to +them, and soon we should have the whole thing in +ship-shape order. Will you do it?”</p> +<p>“Will I?” exclaimed the delighted recruit. “I guess +so—but some of ’em ’aint ’Piscopals, Mr. Maxwell; +there’s Sam Cooley, he’s a Methodist, and––”</p> +<p>“That doesn’t cut any ice, Nickey,—excuse my +slang, ladies,” he apologized to his wife and Hepsey, +at which the boy grinned with delight. “We’re out +to welcome all comers. I’ve got the books that we +shall need upstairs. Let’s go up to my den and talk +it all over. We shall have to spend evenings getting +thoroughly up in it ourselves,—rules and knots and +first-aid and the rest. Mrs. Burke will allay parental +anxiety as to the bodily welfare of the recruits and +the pacific object of the organization, and Mrs. Maxwell +will make the colors. Come on!”</p> +<p>With sparkling eyes, Nickey followed Donald out +of the room; as they disappeared Hepsey slowly +shook her head in grateful deprecation at Betty.</p> +<p>“Bless him!” ejaculated Hepsey. “Mixin’ up religion, +with a little wholesome fun, is the only way +you can serve it to boys, like Nickey, and get results. +Boys that are ever goin’ to amount to anything are +too full of life to stand ’em up in a row, with a +prayer book in one hand and a hymnal in the other, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_185' name='page_185'></a>185</span> +and expect ’em to sprout wings. It can’t be done. +Keep a boy outside enough and he’ll turn out alright. +Fresh air and open fields have a mighty helpful influence +on ’em. The way I’ve got it figgered out, all +of us can absorb a lot of the right kind of religion, +if we’ll only go out and watch old Mother Nature, +now and then.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch16.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 374px; height: 330px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_186' name='page_186'></a>186</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVI_PRACTICAL_TEMPERANCE_REFORM' id='CHAPTER_XVI_PRACTICAL_TEMPERANCE_REFORM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVI</h2> +<h3>PRACTICAL TEMPERANCE REFORM</h3> +</div> +<p>The small town of Durford was not immune +from the curse of drink: there was no doubt +about that. Other forms of viciousness there +were in plenty; but the nine saloons did more harm +than all the rest of the evil influences put together, +and Maxwell, though far from being a fanatic, was +doing much in a quiet way to neutralize their bad influence. +He turned the Sunday School room into a +reading room during the week days, organized a gymnasium, +kept watch of the younger men individually, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_187' name='page_187'></a>187</span> +and offered as best he could some chance for the expression +of the gregarious instinct which drew them +together after the work of the day was over. In +the face of his work in these directions, it happened +that a venturesome and enterprising saloon-keeper +bought a vacant property adjacent to the church, and +opened up an aggressive business—much to Maxwell’s +dismay.</p> +<p>Among the women of the parish there was a “Ladies’ +Temperance League,” of which Mrs. Burke +was president. They held quarterly meetings, and it +was at one of the meetings held at Thunder Cliff, +and at which Mrs. Burke presided, that she remarked +severely:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Sapley, you’re out of order. There’s a motion +before the house, and I’ve got something to say +about it myself. Mrs. Perkins, as Mrs. Maxwell +was unable to be present, will you kindly take the +chair, or anything else you can lay your hands on, +and I’ll say what I’ve got to say.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Perkins took Mrs. Burke’s place as the president, +while Mrs. Burke rubbed her glasses in an impatient +way; and having adjusted them, began in a +decided tone from which there was meant to be no +appeal:</p> +<p>“The fact is, ladies, we’re not gettin’ down to business +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_188' name='page_188'></a>188</span> +as we ought to, if we are to accomplish anything. +We’ve been singing hymns, and recitin’ lovely poems, +and listenin’ to reports as to how money spent for +liquor would pay off the national debt; and we’ve been +sayin’ prayers, and pledgin’ ourselves not to do things +none of us ever was tempted to do, or thought of +doin’, and wearin’ ribbons, and attendin’ conventions, +and talkin’ about influencin’ legislation at Washington, +and eatin’ sandwiches, and drinkin’ weak tea, and +doin’ goodness knows what; but we’ve not done a +blessed thing to stop men drinkin’ right here in Durford +and breakin’ the town law; you know that well +enough.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke paused for breath after this astounding +revolutionary statement, and there was a murmur of +scandalized dissent from the assembled ladies at this +outspoken expression on the part of the honorable +president of the Parish Guild.</p> +<p>“No,” she continued emphatically, “don’t you fool +yourselves. If we can’t help matters right here where +we live, then there’s no use havin’ imitation church +sociables, and goin’ home thinkin’ we’ve helped the +temperance cause, and callin’ everybody else bad +names who don’t exactly agree with us.”</p> +<p>Again there were symptoms of open rebellion +against this traitorous heresy on the part of the plainspoken +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_189' name='page_189'></a>189</span> +president; but she was not to be easily silenced; +so she continued:</p> +<p>“Men have got to go somewheres when their work +is over, and have a good time, and I believe that we +won’t accomplish anything until we fix up a nice, attractive +set of rooms with games, and give ’em something +to drink.”</p> +<p>Cries of “Oh! Oh! Oh!” filled the room.</p> +<p>“I didn’t say whiskey, did I? Anybody would +think I’d offered to treat you, the way you receive +my remarks. Now we can’t get the rooms right off, +’cause we can’t yet afford to pay the rent of ’em. But +there’s one thing we can do. There’s Silas Bingham—the +new man. He’s gone and opened a saloon +within about a hundred feet of the church, and he’s +sellin’ liquor to children and runnin’ a slot machine +besides. It’s all against the law; but if you think +the village trustees are goin’ to do anythin’ to enforce +the law, you’re just dead wrong, every one of you. +The trustees are most of ’em in it for graft, and +they ’aint goin’ to close no saloon when it’s comin’ +election day ’for long, not if Bingham serves cocktails +between the hymns in church. Maybe the trustees’d +come to church better if he did. Maybe you +think I’m usin’ strong language; but it’s true all the +same, and you know it’s true. Silas Bingham’s move +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_190' name='page_190'></a>190</span> +is a sassy challenge to us: are we goin’ to lie down +under it?”</p> +<p>“I must say that I’m painfully surprised at you, +Mrs. Burke,” Mrs. Burns began. “You surely can’t +forget what wonderful things the League has accomplished +in Virginia and––”</p> +<p>“Yes,” Mrs. Burke interrupted, “but you see Durford +’aint in Virginia so far as heard from, and it’s +our business to get up and hustle right here where we +live. Did you think we were tryin’ to reform Virginia +or Alaska by absent treatment?”</p> +<p>Mrs. Sapley could not contain herself another moment; +so, rising to her feet excitedly she sputtered:</p> +<p>“I do not agree with you, Mrs. Burke; I do not +agree with you at all. Our meetings have been very +inspiring and helpful to us all, I am perfectly sure; +very uplifting and encouraging; and I am astonished +that you should speak as you do.”</p> +<p>“I’m very glad you’ve found them so, Mrs. Sapley. +I don’t drink myself, and I don’t need no encouragin’ +and upliftin’. It’s the weak man that drinks who +needs encouragin’ and upliftin’; and he wouldn’t come +near one of our meetin’s any more than a bantam +rooster would try to hatch turtles from moth-balls. +We’ve got to clear Silas Bingham from off the church +steps.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_191' name='page_191'></a>191</span></p> +<p>“Well,” Mrs. Burns inquired, “what do you propose +to do about it, if I may be allowed to inquire?”</p> +<p>“Do? The first thing I propose to do is to interview +Silas Bingham myself privately, and see what I +can do with him. Perhaps I won’t accomplish nothin’; +but I’m goin’ to try, anyway, and make him get +out of that location.”</p> +<p>“You can, if anybody can,” Mrs. Sapley remarked.</p> +<p>“Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Sapley. +Now Mrs. President, I move, sir—that is, madam—that +the parish League appoints me to interview +Bingham.”</p> +<p>The motion was duly seconded and passed, notwithstanding +some mild protests from the opposition, +and Mrs. Burke resumed her place as presiding officer +of the meeting. Then she continued:</p> +<p>“Excuse me; I forgot the previous question which +somebody moved. Shall we have lettuce or chicken +sandwiches at our next meetin’? You have heard the +question. Those in favor of chicken please say aye. +Ah! The ayes have the chicken, and the chicken is +unanimously carried. Any more business to come before +the meetin’? If not, we’ll proceed to carry out +the lit’ary program arranged by Miss Perkins. Then +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_192' name='page_192'></a>192</span> +we’ll close this meetin’ by singin’ the 224th hymn. +Don’t forget the basket by the door.”</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p>Silas Bingham was an undersized, timid, pulpy +soul, with a horizontal forehead, watery blue eyes, +and a receding chin. Out of “office hours” he looked +like a meek solicitor for a Sunday School magazine. +One bright morning just as he had finished sweeping +out the saloon and was polishing the brass rod on the +front of the bar, Mrs. Burke walked in, and extended +her hand to the astonished bar-keeper, whose chin +dropped from sheer amazement. She introduced herself +in the most cordial and sympathetic of tones, +saying:</p> +<p>“How do you do, Mr. Bingham? I haven’t had +the pleasure of meetin’ you before; but I always make +it a point to call on strangers when they come to +town. It must be awful lonesome when you first arrive +and don’t know a livin’ soul. I hope your wife is +tolerable well.”</p> +<p>Bingham gradually pulled himself together and +turned very red, as he replied:</p> +<p>“Thanks! But my wife doesn’t live here. It’s +awful kind of you, I’m sure; but you’ll find my wife +in the third house beyond the bakery, down two +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_193' name='page_193'></a>193</span> +blocks—turn to the right. She’ll be glad to see you.”</p> +<p>“That’s good,” Hepsey responded, “but you see I +don’t have much to do on Thursdays, and I’ll just +have a little visit with you, now I’m here. Fine day, +isn’t it.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke drew up a chair and sat down, adjusted +her feet comfortably to the rung of another chair, +and pulled out her knitting from her work-bag, much +to the consternation of the proprietor of the place.</p> +<p>“How nice you’ve got things fixed up, Mr. Bingham,” +Hepsey remarked, gazing serenely at the seductive +variety of bottles and glasses, and the glare of +mirrors behind the bar. “Nothin’ like havin’ a fine +lookin’ place to draw trade. Is business prosperin’ +now-a-days?”</p> +<p>Silas turned three shades redder, and stammered +badly as he replied:</p> +<p>“Yes, I’m doin’ as well as I can expect—er—I suppose.”</p> +<p>“Probably as well as your customers are doin’, I +should imagine? You don’t need to get discouraged. +It takes time to work up a trade like yours in a nice, +decent neighborhood like this.”</p> +<p>Silas stared hard at the unwelcome intruder, glancing +apprehensively at the door from which several +customers had already turned away when, through the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_194' name='page_194'></a>194</span> +glass, they had caught sight of Mrs. Burke. He was +desperately ill at ease, and far from responding cordially +to Hepsey’s friendly advances; and his nervousness +increased as his patrons continually retreated, +occasionally grinning derisively at him through +the glass in the door.</p> +<p>“If you don’t mind my sayin’ it, Mrs. Burke, I +think you’d be a lot more comfortable at my house +than you are here.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I’m perfectly comfortable, thanks; perfectly +comfortable. Don’t you worry a bit about me.”</p> +<p>“But this is a saloon, and it ’aint just what you +might call respectable for ladies to be sittin’ in a +saloon, now, is it?”</p> +<p>“<i>Why not?</i>”</p> +<p>The question was so sudden, sharp and unexpected +that Silas jumped and almost knocked over a bottle of +gin, and then stared in silent chagrin at his guest, his +nervous lips moving without speech.</p> +<p>“I don’t see,” Hepsey continued, “just why the men +should have all the fun, and then when a woman +takes to enjoyin’ herself say that it isn’t respectable. +What’s the difference, I’d like to know? This is a +right cheerful place, and I feel just like stayin’ as +long as I want to. There’s no law against a woman +goin’ to a saloon, is there? I saw Jane Dwire come +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_195' name='page_195'></a>195</span> +out of here Saturday night. To be sure, Jane ’aint +just what you’d call a ‘society’ lady, as you might say; +but as long as I behave myself I don’t see why I +should go.”</p> +<p>“But, ma’am,” Silas protested in wrathful desperation, +“I must ask you to go. You’ll hurt my trade +if you stay here any longer.”</p> +<p>“Hurt your trade! Nonsense! You aren’t half as +polite as I thought you were. I’m awful popular +with the gentlemen. You ought to be payin’ me a +commission to sit here and entertain your customers, +instead of insinuatin’ that I ’aint welcome. Ah! Here +comes Martin Crowfoot. Haven’t seen Martin in +the longest time.”</p> +<p>Martin slouched in and reached the bar and ordered +before he caught sight of Mrs. Burke. He was +just raising the glass to his lips when Hepsey stepped +up briskly, and extending her hand, exclaimed:</p> +<p>“How do you do, Martin? How are the folks at +home? Awful glad to see you.”</p> +<p>Martin stared vacantly at Mrs. Burke, dropped his +glass, and muttered incoherently. Then he bolted +hastily from the place without paying for his drink.</p> +<p>Bingham was now getting a bit hysterical over the +situation, and was about to make another vigorous +protest, when Hiram Green entered and called for +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_196' name='page_196'></a>196</span> +some beer. Again Hepsey extended her hand cordially, +and Hiram jumped as if he had seen a ghost—for +they had been friendly for years.</p> +<p>“Hepsey Burke, what in the name of all that’s decent +are you doin’ in a place like this?” he demanded +when he could get his breath. “Don’t you know +you’ll ruin your reputation if you’re seen sittin’ in a +saloon?”</p> +<p>“Oh, don’t let that worry you, Hiram, My reputation’d +freeze a stroke of lightnin’. You don’t seem +to be worryin’ much about your own reputation.”</p> +<p>“Oh well, a man can do a lot of things a woman +can’t, without losin’ his reputation.”</p> +<p>For an instant the color flamed into Mrs. Burke’s +face as she retorted hotly:</p> +<p>“Yes, there’s the whole business. A man can drink, +and knock the seventh commandment into a cocked +hat; and then when he wants to settle down and get +married he demands a wife as white as snow. If he +gets drunk, it’s a lark. If she gets drunk, it’s a crime. +But I didn’t come here to preach or hold a revival, +and as for my welfare and my reputation, Mr. Bingham +and I was just havin’ a pleasant afternoon together +when you came in and interrupted us. He’s +awful nice when you get to know him real intimate. +Now, Hiram, I hate to spoil your fun, and you do +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_197' name='page_197'></a>197</span> +look a bit thirsty. Suppose you have a lemonade on +me, if you’re sure it won’t go to your head. It isn’t +often that we get out like this together. Lemonades +for two, Mr. Bingham; and make Hiram’s real +sweet.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke enjoyed hugely the disgust and the +grimaces with which Green swallowed the syrupy +mixture. He then beat a hasty retreat down the +street. For two hours Hepsey received all who were +courageous enough to venture in, with most engaging +smiles and cordial handshakes, until Silas was bordering +on madness. Finally he emerged from the bar +and mustered up sufficient courage to threaten:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke, if you don’t quit, I’ll send for the +police,” he blustered.</p> +<p>Hepsey gazed calmly at her victim and replied:</p> +<p>“I wouldn’t, if I was in your place.”</p> +<p>“Well then, I give you fair warning I’ll put you +out myself if you don’t go peaceable in five minutes.”</p> +<p>“No, Silas; you’re wrong as usual. You can’t put +me out of here until I’m ready to go. I could wring +you out like a mop, and drop you down a knot-hole, +and nobody’d be the wiser.”</p> +<p>The door now opened slowly and a small girl, miserably +clad, entered the saloon. Her head was covered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_198' name='page_198'></a>198</span> +with a worn, soiled shawl. From underneath +the shawl she produced a battered tin pail and placed +it on the bar with the phlegmatic remark, “Pa wants +a quart of beer.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke looked at the girl and then at Bingham, +and then back at the girl inquiringly.</p> +<p>“Are you in the habit of gettin’ beer here, child?”</p> +<p>“Sure thing!” the girl replied, cheerfully.</p> +<p>“How old are you?”</p> +<p>“Ten, goin’ on eleven.”</p> +<p>“And you sell it to her?” Hepsey asked, turning +to Bingham.</p> +<p>“Oh, it’s for her father. He sends for it.” He +frowned at the child and she quickly disappeared, +leaving the can behind her.</p> +<p>“Does he? But I thought you said that a saloon +was no place for a woman; and surely it can’t be a +decent place for a girl under age. Now my friend, +I’ve got somethin’ to say to you.”</p> +<p>“You are the very devil and all,” Silas remarked.</p> +<p>“Thanks, Silas. The devil sticks to his job, anyway; +and owin’ to the likes of you he wins out, nine +times out of ten. Now will you clear out of this +location, or won’t you?”</p> +<p>“Another day like this would send me to the lunatic +asylum.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_199' name='page_199'></a>199</span></p> +<p>“Then I’ll be around in the mornin’ at six-thirty +sharp.”</p> +<p>“You just get out of here,” he threatened.</p> +<p>“If you promise to clear out yourself within three +days.”</p> +<p>“I guess I’d clear out of Heaven itself to get rid +of you.”</p> +<p>“Very well; and if you are still here Saturday afternoon, +ten of us women will come and sit on your +steps until you go. A woman can’t vote whether you +shall be allowed to entice her men-folk into a place +like this, and at the very church door; but the average +woman can be mighty disagreeable when she +tries.”</p> +<p>Silas Bingham had a good business head: he reckoned +up the costs—and cleared out.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch17.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 378px; height: 333px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_200' name='page_200'></a>200</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVII_NOTICE_TO_QUIT' id='CHAPTER_XVII_NOTICE_TO_QUIT'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVII</h2> +<h3>NOTICE TO QUIT</h3> +</div> +<p>Before the year was over Mrs. Betty had become +popular with Maxwell’s parishioners +through her unfailing good-nature, cordiality +and persistent optimism. Even Mrs. Nolan, who +lived down by the bridge, and made rag carpets, and +suffered from chronic dyspepsia, remarked to Mrs. +Burke that she thought the parson’s wife was very +nice “’cause she ’aint a bit better than any of the rest +of us,”—which tribute to Mrs. Betty’s tact made +Mrs. Burke smile and look pleased. All the young +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_201' name='page_201'></a>201</span> +men and girls of the parish simply adored her, and it +was marvelous how she managed to keep in touch +with all the guilds, do her own housework, and learn +to know everyone intimately. Hepsey warned her +that she was attempting to do too much.</p> +<p>“The best parson’s wife,” she said, “is the one who +makes the rest work, while she attends to her own +household, and keeps her health. Her business is not +to do the work of the parson, but to look after him, +keep him well nourished, and cheer him up a little bit +when he is tempted to take the next trolley for Timbuctoo.”</p> +<p>The retort was so tempting that Mrs. Betty could +not help saying:</p> +<p>“There’s not a person in this town who does so +much for others as you do, and who makes so little +fuss about it. It’s the force of your example that has +led me astray, you see.”</p> +<p>“Hm!” Hepsey replied. “I’m glad you called my +attention to it. I shall try to break myself of the +habit at once.”</p> +<p>As for Maxwell, his practical helpfulness in forwarding +the social life of the place, without in the +least applying that phase of his activities as a lever +for spiritual upheavals, and his ready sympathy for +and interest in the needs and doings of young and old, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_202' name='page_202'></a>202</span> +irrespective of class or caste, gradualy reaped for him +the affection and respect of all sorts and conditions. +In fact, the year had been a pleasant one for him, and +was marred by only one circumstance, the continued +and growing hostility of his Senior Warden, Mr. +Bascom. From the first, he had been distinctly unfriendly +towards his rector; but soon after Maxwell’s +marriage, his annoying opposition was quite open and +pronounced, and the weight of his personal influence +was thrown against every move which Maxwell made +towards the development of the parish life and work.</p> +<p>To those more “in the know” than the Maxwells +themselves, it was evident that a certain keen aggressiveness +evinced by the Senior Warden was foreign to +his phlegmatic, brooding character, and it was clear +to them that the actively malicious virus was being +administered by the disappointed Virginia. That she +was plotting punishment, in revenge for wounded +<i>amour propre</i>, was clear to the initiated, who were +apprehensive of the bomb she was evidently preparing +to burst over the unconscious heads of the rector and +his wife. But what could her scheme be?</p> +<p>Gradually Mrs. Burke noticed that Betty began to +show fatigue and anxiety, and was losing the freshness +of her delicate color; while Donald had become +silent and reserved, and wore a worried look which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_203' name='page_203'></a>203</span> +was quite unnatural to him. Something was going +wrong; of that she felt sure; but observant though +she was, she failed to trace the trouble to its source.</p> +<p>Matters came to a crisis one day when Maxwell +was informed that some one was waiting to see him +in the parlor. The visitor was dressed in very pronounced +clothes, and carried himself with a self-assertive +swagger. Maxwell had seen him in Bascom’s +office, and knew who was waiting for him long +before he reached the parlor, by the odor of patchouli +which penetrated to the hall.</p> +<p>“Good morning, Mr. Nelson,” said Maxwell. +“Did you wish to see me?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I did, Mr. Maxwell, and I am sure it is a +great pleasure.”</p> +<p>The man seated himself comfortably in a large +chair, put the tips of his fingers together, and gazed +about the room with an expression of pleased patronage.</p> +<p>“Very pretty home you have here,” he remarked +suavely.</p> +<p>“Yes,” Maxwell replied. “We manage to make +ourselves comfortable. Did you wish to see me on +business?”</p> +<p>“Oh yes,” the lawyer replied, “a mere technicality. +I represent the firm of Bascom & Nelson, or rather I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_204' name='page_204'></a>204</span> +should say I am Mr. Bascom’s legal agent just at +present, as I have not yet been admitted as his partner––”</p> +<p>The man stopped, smirked, and evidently relished +prolonging his interview with Maxwell, who was getting +impatient. Maxwell drew his watch from his +pocket, and there was a look in his eyes which made +the lawyer proceed:</p> +<p>“The fact is, Rector, that I came to see you on a +matter of business about the rectory—as Mr. Bascom’s +agent.”</p> +<p>“Will you kindly state it?”</p> +<p>“It concerns the use of this house.”</p> +<p>“In what way? This is the rectory of the church, +and the rental of it is part of my salary.”</p> +<p>“You are mistaken. Mr. Bascom owns the house, +and you are staying here merely on sufferance.”</p> +<p>For a moment Maxwell was too astonished to +speak; then he began:</p> +<p>“Mr. Bascom owns this house? What do you +mean? The house is part of the property of the +church.”</p> +<p>“You are mistaken, my friend.”</p> +<p>“You will kindly not repeat that form of address, +and explain what you mean,” replied Maxwell heatedly. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_205' name='page_205'></a>205</span></p> +<p>“Come, come; there’s no use in losing your temper, +my dear rector,” retorted Nelson offensively.</p> +<p>“You have just two minutes to explain yourself, +sir; and I strongly advise you to improve the opportunity, +before I put you out of this house.’”</p> +<p>Nelson, like most bullies, was a coward, and evidently +concluded that he would take no risks. He +continued:</p> +<p>“As I said before, Sylvester Bascom practically +owns this house. It does not belong to the church +property. The Episcopals made a big bluff at buying +it years ago, and made a very small payment in cash; +Bascom took a mortgage for the rest. The interest +was paid regularly for a while, and then payments +began to fall off. As you have reason to know, Bascom +is a generous and kind-hearted man, who would +not for the world inconvenience his rector, and so he +has allowed the matter to go by default, until the back +interest amounts to a considerable sum. Of course +the mortgage is long past due, and as he needs the +money, he has commissioned me to see you and inform +you that he is about to foreclose, and to ask you +to vacate the premises as soon as you conveniently +can. I hope that I make myself reasonably clear.”</p> +<p>In a perfectly steady voice Maxwell replied:</p> +<p>“What you say is clear enough; whether it is true +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_206' name='page_206'></a>206</span> +is another matter. I will see Mr. Bascom at once, +and ask for his own statement of the case.”</p> +<p>“I don’t think it necessary to see him, as he has +expressly authorized me to act for him in the case.”</p> +<p>“Then I suppose you came her to serve the notice +of ejectment on me.”</p> +<p>“Oh, we won’t use such strong language as that. +I came here merely to tell you that the house must be +vacated soon as possible. Mr. Bascom has gone to +New York on business and will not be back for two +weeks. Meantime he wishes the house vacated, so +that he can rent it to other parties.”</p> +<p>“When does the Senior Warden propose to eject +his rector, if I may be allowed to ask?”</p> +<p>“Oh, there is no immediate hurry. Any time this +week will do.”</p> +<p>“What does he want for this place?”</p> +<p>“I believe he expects fifteen dollars a month.”</p> +<p>“Well, of course that is prohibitive. Tell Mr. Bascom +that we will surrender the house on Wednesday, +and that we are greatly indebted to him for allowing +us to occupy it rent-free for so long a time.”</p> +<p>As Donald showed the objectionable visitor out of +the house, he caught sight of Hepsey Burke walking +towards it. He half hoped she would pass by, but +with a glance of suspicion and barely civil greeting +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_207' name='page_207'></a>207</span> +to Nelson as he walked away, she came on, and with +a friendly nod to Maxwell entered the rectory.</p> +<p>“I’ve just been talkin’ to Mrs. Betty for her good,” +she remarked. “I met her in town, lookin’ as peaked +as if she’d been fastin’ double shifts, and I had a +notion to come in and complete the good work on +yourself.”</p> +<p>Maxwell’s worried face told its own story. He was +so nonplused by the bolt just dropped from the blue +that he could find no words of responsive raillery +wherewith to change the subject.</p> +<p>Hepsey led the way to the parlor and seated herself, +facing him judicially. In her quick mind the +new evidence soon crystallized into proof of her already +half-formed suspicions. She came straight to +the point.</p> +<p>“Is Bascom making you any trouble? If he is, +say so, ’cause I happen to have the whip-hand so far +as he’s concerned. That Nelson’s nothin’ but a tool +of his, and a dull tool at that.”</p> +<p>“He’s an objectionable person, I must say,” remarked +Maxwell, and hesitated to trust himself +further.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke gazed at Maxwell for some time in +silence and then began:</p> +<p>“You look about done up—I don’t want to be pryin’, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_208' name='page_208'></a>208</span> +but I guess you’d better own up. Something’s +the matter.”</p> +<p>“I am just worried and anxious, and I suppose I +can’t help showing it,” he replied wearily.</p> +<p>“So you’re worried, are you. Now don’t you get +the worried habit; if it makes a start it will grow on +you till you find yourself worryin’ for fear the moon +won’t rise. Worryin’s like usin’ rusty scissors: it sets +your mouth awry. You just take things as they come, +and when it seems as if everything was goin’ to smash +and you couldn’t help it, put on your overalls and +paint a fence, or hammer tacks, or any old thing that +comes handy. What has that rascal Bascom been +doin’? Excuse me—my diplomacy’s of the hammer-and-tongs +order; you’re not gettin’ your salary paid?”</p> +<p>For some time Maxwell hesitated and then answered:</p> +<p>“Well, I guess I might as well tell you, because you +will know all about it anyway in a day or two, and +you might as well get a correct version of the affair +from me, though I hate awfully to trouble you. The +parish owes me two hundred and fifty dollars. I spoke +to Reynolds about it several times, but he says that +Bascom and several of his intimate friends won’t pay +their subscriptions promptly, and so he can’t pay me. +But the shortage in my salary is not the worst of it. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_209' name='page_209'></a>209</span> +Did you know that the rectory was heavily mortgaged, +and that Bascom holds the mortgage?”</p> +<p>“Yes, I knew it; but we paid something down’, and +the interest’s been kept up, and we hoped that if we +did that Bascom would be satisfied.”</p> +<p>“It seems that the interest has not been paid in some +time, and the real reason why Nelson called just now +was to inform me that as Bascom was about to foreclose +we must get out as soon as we could. I told him +that we would leave on Wednesday next.”</p> +<p>For a moment there was a look on Mrs. Burke’s +face which Maxwell never had seen before, and which +boded ill for Bascom: but she made no immediate +reply.</p> +<p>“To tell you the truth,” she said finally, “I have +been afraid of this. That was the only thing that +worried me about your gettin’ married. But I felt +that no good would come from worryin’, and that if +Bascom was goin’ to play you some dirty trick, he’d +do it; and now he’s done it. What’s got into the man, +all of a sudden? He’s a skinflint—always closer than +hair to a dog’s back; but I don’t believe I’ve ever +known him do somethin’ downright ugly, like this.”</p> +<p>“Oh, I know well enough,” remarked Donald. “If +I had been aware of how matters stood about the rectory, +I should have acted differently. I wrote him a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_210' name='page_210'></a>210</span> +pretty stiff letter a day or two ago, calling upon him, +as Senior Warden, to use his influence to fulfill the +contract with me, and get the arrears of my salary +paid up. I suppose he had thought I would just get +out of the place if my salary was held back—and he’s +wanted to get rid of me for some time. Now, he’s +taken this other means of ejecting me not only from +his house but from the town itself. He knows I can’t +afford to pay the rent out of my salary—let alone out +of half of it!” He laughed rather bitterly.</p> +<p>“He’ll be singing a different tune, before I’ve done +with him,” said Hepsey. “Now you leave this to me—I’ll +have a twitch on old Bascom’s nose that’ll make +him think of something else than ejecting his rector. +I’ll go and visit with him a little this afternoon.”</p> +<p>“But Nelson said that he was in New York.”</p> +<p>“I know better than that,” snorted Hepsey. “But +I guess he’ll want to go there, and stay the winter +there too, maybe, when I’ve had my say. No sir—I’m +goin’ to take my knittin’ up to his office, and sit +awhile; and if he doesn’t have the time of his life it +won’t be my fault.”</p> +<p>She turned to leave the room, with a belligerent +swing of her shoulders.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke,” said Maxwell gently, “you are kindness +itself; but I don’t want you to do this—at least +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_211' name='page_211'></a>211</span> +not yet. I want to fight this thing through myself, +and rather to shame Bascom into doing the right thing +than force him to do it—even if the latter were possible. +I must think things out a bit. I shall want your +help—we always do, Betty and I.”</p> +<p>“I don’t know but you’re right; but if your plan +don’t work, remember mine <i>will</i>. Well, Mrs. Betty’ll +be coming in soon, and I’ll leave you. Meantime I +shall just go home and load my guns: I’m out for +Bascom’s hide, sooner or later.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch18.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 365px; height: 321px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_212' name='page_212'></a>212</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_NEW_RECTORY' id='CHAPTER_XVIII_THE_NEW_RECTORY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XVIII</h2> +<h3>THE NEW RECTORY</h3> +</div> +<p>When Betty returned, and Donald told her +the happenings of the morning, the clouds +dispersed somewhat, and before long the +dictum that “there is humor in all things”—even in +ejection from house and home—seemed proven true. +After lunch they sat in Donald’s den, and were laughingly +suggesting every kind of habitat, possible and +impossible, from purchasing and fitting up the iceman’s +covered wagon and perambulating round the +town, to taking a store and increasing their income +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_213' name='page_213'></a>213</span> +by purveying Betty’s tempting preserves and confections.</p> +<p>Their consultation was interrupted by the arrival +of Nickey, armed with a Boy Scouts’ “Manual.”</p> +<p>“Gee! Mr. Maxwell: Uncle Jonathan Jackson’s +all right; I’ll never do another thing to guy him. He’s +loaned us his tent for our Boy Scouts’ corpse, and +I’ve been studyin’ out how to pitch it proper, so I +can show the kids the ropes; but––”</p> +<p>“Donald!” cried Betty. “The very thing—let’s +camp out on the church lot.”</p> +<p>“By Jinks!” exclaimed Maxwell, unclerically. +“We’ll have that tent up this very afternoon—if +Nickey will lend it to us, second hand, and get his +men together.”</p> +<p>Nickey flushed with delight. “You betcher life I +will,” he shouted excitedly. “Is it for a revival +stunt? You ’aint goin’ to live there, are you?”</p> +<p>“That’s just what we are going to do, if Jonathan +and you’ll lend us the tent for a few months. Mr. +Bascom wants to let the rectory to some other tenants, +and we’ve got to find somewhere else to lay our +heads. Why, it’s the very way! There’s not a thing +against it, that I can see. Let’s go and see the tent, +and consult Mrs. Burke. Come along, both of you.”</p> +<p>And off they hurried, like three children bent on a +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_214' name='page_214'></a>214</span> +new game. It was soon arranged, and Hepsey rose +to the occasion with her usual vim. To her and Nickey +the transportation of the tent was consigned, while +Maxwell went off to purchase the necessary boarding +for a floor, and Mrs. Betty returned to the rectory +to pack up their belongings.</p> +<p>“We’ll have to occupy our new quarters to-night,” +said Maxwell, “or our friend the enemy may raid the +church lot in the night, and vanish with tent and all.”</p> +<p>An hour or so later, when Maxwell arrived at the +church, clad in overalls and riding on a wagon of +planks, he found Mrs. Burke and Nickey with a contingent +of stalwarts awaiting him. There was a heap +of canvas and some coils of rope lying on the ground +near by. Hepsey greeted him with a smile from under +the shade of her sun-bonnet.</p> +<p>“You seem ready for business, even if you don’t +look a little bit like the Archbishop of Canterbury in +that rig,” she remarked. “I’m afraid there’ll be an +awful scandal in the parish if you go wanderin’ around +dressed like a carpenter; but it can’t be helped; and +if the Bishop excommunicates you, I’ll give you a job +on the farm.”</p> +<p>“I don’t mind about the looks of it; but I suppose +the vestry will have something to say about our camping +on church property.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_215' name='page_215'></a>215</span></p> +<p>“That needn’t worry you. Maybe it’ll bring ’em +to their senses, and maybe, they’ll be ashamed when +they see their parson driven out of his house and +havin’ to live in a tent,—though I ’aint holdin’ out +much hope of that, to you. Folks that are the most +religious are usually the hardest to shame. I always +said, financially speakin’, that preachin’ wasn’t a sound +business. It’s all give and no get; but this is the first +time I’ve ever heard of a parish wanting a parson to +preach without eating and to sleep without a roof over +his head. Most of us seem to forget that rectors are +human being like the rest of us. If religion is worth +havin’, it’s worth payin’ for.”</p> +<p>The planking was soon laid, and the erection of the +tent was left to Nickey’s captaining—all hands assisting. +With his manual in one hand he laid it out, rope +by rope, poles in position, and each helper at his place. +Then at a word, up it soared, with a “bravo” from +the puzzled onlookers.</p> +<p>“We want a poet here,” laughed Maxwell. “Longfellow’s +‘Building of the Ship,’ or Ralph Connor’s +‘Building the Barn’ aren’t a circumstance to Nickey’s +‘Pitching the Parson’s Tent.’”</p> +<p>It was next divided off into three convenient rooms, +for sleeping, eating and cooking—and Hepsey, with +three scouts, having driven across to the old rectory +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_216' name='page_216'></a>216</span> +while the finishing touches were being put to the new, +she and her military escort soon returned with Mrs. +Betty, and a load of furniture and other belongings.</p> +<p>“Why, this is perfect!” cried Betty. “The only +thing lacking to complete the illusion is a trout brook +in the front yard, and the smell of pines and the damp +mossy earth of the forests. We’ll wear our old +clothes, and have a bonfire at night, and roast potatoes +and corn in the hot coals, and have the most beautiful +time imaginable.”</p> +<p>The town visitors who still lingered on the scene +were received cordially by Maxwell and Mrs. Betty, +who seemed to be in rather high spirits; but when the +visitors made any inquiries concerning structural matters +they were politely referred to Nickey Burke for +any information they desired, as he had assumed official +management of the work.</p> +<p>Just before the various helpers left at six o’clock, +smoke began to issue from the little stove-pipe sticking +out through the canvas of the rear of the tent, +and Mrs. Betty, with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows +and her cooking apron on, came out to watch it +with all the pride of a good housekeeper.</p> +<p>“Isn’t it jolly, Mrs. Burke,” she exclaimed. “I was +afraid that it would not draw, but it really does, +you see. This will be more fun than a month at the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_217' name='page_217'></a>217</span> +seashore; and to-morrow we are going to have you +and Nickey dine with us in the tent; so don’t make +any other engagement. Don’t forget.”</p> +<p>By noon of the following day everybody in town +knew that the Maxwells had been dispossessed, and +were camping on the church lot; and before night +most of the women and a few of the men had called +to satisfy their curiosity, and to express their sympathy +with the rector and his wife, who, however, +seemed to be quite comfortable and happy in their +new quarters. On the other hand, some of the vestry +hinted strongly that tents could not be put up on church +property without their formal permission, and a few +of the more pious suggested that it was little short of +sacrilege thus to violate the sanctity of a consecrated +place. Nickey had painted a large sign with the word +<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Rectory</span> on it, in truly rustic lettering, and had hung +it at the entrance of the tent. The Editor of the +Durford Daily <i>Bugle</i> appeared with the village +photographer, and after an interview with Maxwell +requested him and his wife to pose for a picture in +front of the tent. This they declined with thanks; +but a half-column article giving a sensational account +of the affair appeared in the next issue of the paper, +headed by a half-tone picture of the tent and the +church. Public sentiment ran strongly against Bascom, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_218' name='page_218'></a>218</span> +to whom rumor quickly awarded the onus of the +incident. In reply to offers of hospitality, Maxwell +and Mrs. Betty insisted that they were very comfortable +for the time being, and were not going to move +or make any plans for the immediate future. The +morning of the fourth day, Maxwell announced to +Mrs. Betty that he had a strong presentiment that +Bascom would soon make another move in the game, +and he was not surprised when he saw Nelson approaching.</p> +<p>“Thank goodness we are in the open air, this time,” +Maxwell remarked to Betty as he caught sight of the +visitor. “I’ll talk to him outside—and perhaps you’d +better shut the door and keep out the language. I +may have to express myself more forcibly than politely.”</p> +<p>Nelson began:</p> +<p>“I am sorry to have to intrude upon you again, Mr. +Maxwell, but I must inform you that you will have +to vacant that tent and find lodgings elsewhere.”</p> +<p>“Why, pray? This tent is my property for as long +as I require it.”</p> +<p>“Ah! But you see it has been put up on the land +that belongs to the church, and you have no title to +use the land, you know, for private purposes.”</p> +<p>“Pardon me,” Maxwell replied, “but while the legal +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_219' name='page_219'></a>219</span> +title to all church property is held by the wardens and +vestry collectively, the freehold use of the church +building and grounds is held by the rector for the +purpose of the exercise of his office as rector. No +church property is injured by this tent. This lot was +originally purchased for a rectory. To all intents and +purposes (excuse me; I am not punning) this tent is +the rectory <i>pro tem</i>. The use of a rectory was offered +me as part of the original agreement when I accepted +the call to come to this parish.”</p> +<p>“Hm! You speak quite as if you belonged to the +legal profession yourself, Mr. Maxwell. However, +I am afraid that you will have to get off the lot just +the same. You must remember that I am simply +carrying out Mr. Bascom’s instructions.”</p> +<p>“Very well; please give my compliments to Mr. +Bascom and tell him that he is welcome to come here +and put me out as soon as he thinks best. Moreover, +you might remind him that he is not an autocrat, and +that he cannot take any legal action in the matter without +a formal meeting of the vestry, which I will call +and at which I will preside. He can appeal to the +Bishop if he sees fit.”</p> +<p>“Then I understand that you propose to stay where +you are, in defiance of Mr. Bascom’s orders?”</p> +<p>“I most certainly do. It is well known that Mr. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_220' name='page_220'></a>220</span> +Bascom has successfully intimidated every one of my +predecessors; but he has met his match for once. I +shall not budge from this tent until I see fit.”</p> +<p>“Well, I should be very sorry to see you forcibly +ejected.”</p> +<p>“Don’t waste any sympathy on me, sir. If Mr. +Bascom attempts to molest me, I shall take the matter +to the courts and sue him for damages.”</p> +<p>“Your language is somewhat forcible, considering +that you are supposed to be his pastor and spiritual +advisor.”</p> +<p>“Very well; tell Mr. Bascom that as his spiritual +advisor I strongly suggest that his spiritual condition +will not be much improved by attempting to molest +us here.”</p> +<p>“But to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Maxwell, +he can force you to leave, by stopping the payment +of your salary, even if he does not eject you by +force.”</p> +<p>“I rather think not. Until he can bring specific +charges against me, he is liable for the fulfillment of +our original contract, in his writing. Moreover, I +may have more friends in the parish than he imagines.”</p> +<p>Nelson was visibly disturbed by the rector’s firm +hold on the situation. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_221' name='page_221'></a>221</span></p> +<p>“But,” he stuttered, “Mr. Bascom is the richest +man in the parish, and his influence is strong. You +will find that everyone defers to his judgment as a +matter of course.”</p> +<p>“All right; then let me add, for your own information, +that I can earn my living honestly in this town +and take care of myself without Mr. Bascom’s assistance, +if necessary; and do my parish work at the same +time. I have two muscular arms, and if it comes down +to earning a livelihood, independent of my salary, I +can work on the state road hauling stone. Williamson +told me yesterday he was looking for men.”</p> +<p>“I can scarcely think that the parishioners would +hold with their rector working like a common laborer, +Mr. Maxwell,” admonished Nelson.</p> +<p>“We are all ‘common,’ in the right sense, Mr. +Nelson. My view is that work of any kind is always +honorable when necessary, except in the eyes of the +ignorant. If Mr. Bascom is mortified to have me +earn my living by manual labor, when he is not +ashamed to repudiate a contract, and try to force me +out of the parish by a process of slow starvation, +his sense of fitness equals his standard of honor.”</p> +<p>“Well, I am sure that I do not know what I can +do.”</p> +<p>“Do you want me to tell you?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_222' name='page_222'></a>222</span></p> +<p>“If it will relieve your feelings,” Nelson drawled +insolently.</p> +<p>“Then get out of this place and stay out. If you +return again for any purpose whatever I am afraid it +is I who will have to eject you. We will not argue +the matter again.”</p> +<p>“Well, I regret this unfortunate encounter, and to +have been forced to listen to the unguarded vituperation +of my rector.” With which retort he departed.</p> +<p>Soon after Nelson had left, Mrs. Burke called in, +and Betty gave her a highly amusing and somewhat +colored version of the interview.</p> +<p>“You know, I think that our theological seminaries +don’t teach budding parsons all they ought to, by any +means,” she concluded.</p> +<p>“I quite agree with you, Betty dear; and I thank +my stars for college athletics,” laughed Maxwell, +squaring up to the tent-pole.</p> +<p>“What did I tell you,” reminded Hepsey, “when +you had all those books up in your room at my place. +It’s just as important for a country parson to know +how to make a wiped-joint or run a chicken farm or +pull teeth, as it is to study church history and theology. +A parson’s got to live somehow, and a trade +school ought to be attached to every seminary, according +to my way of thinking! St. Paul made tents, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_223' name='page_223'></a>223</span> +and wasn’t a bit ashamed of it. Well I’m mighty glad +that Bascom has got come up with for once. Don’t +you give in, and it will be my turn to make the next +move, if this don’t bring him to his senses. You +just wait and see.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch19.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 380px; height: 341px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_224' name='page_224'></a>224</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XIX_COULEUR_DE_ROSE' id='CHAPTER_XIX_COULEUR_DE_ROSE'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XIX</h2> +<h3>COULEUR de ROSE</h3> +</div> +<p>Hepsey had been so busy with helping the +Maxwells that for some time no opportunity +had occurred for Jonathan to press his ardent +suit. Since his first attempt and its abrupt termination, +he had been somewhat bewildered; he +had failed to decide whether he was an engaged man +open to congratulations, or a rejected suitor to be +condoled with. He tried to recall exactly what she +had said. As near as he could recollect, it was: “I’ll +think it over, and perhaps some day—” Then he +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_225' name='page_225'></a>225</span> +had committed the indiscretion of grasping her hand, +causing her to drop her stitches before she had ended +what she was going to say. He could have sworn at +himself to think that it was all his fault that she had +stopped just at the critical moment, when she might +have committed herself and given him some real encouragement. +But he consoled himself by the thought +that she had evidently taken him seriously at last; and +so to the “perhaps some day” he added, in imagination, +the words “I will take you”; and this seemed +reasonable.</p> +<p>The matter was more difficult from the very fact +that they had been on such intimate terms for such +a long time, and she had never hitherto given him +any reason to think that she cared for him other than +as a good neighbor and a friend. Ever since the death +of his wife, she seemed to feel that he had been left +an orphan in a cold and unsympathetic world, and +that it was her duty to look after him much as she +would a child. She was in the habit of walking over +whenever she pleased and giving directions to Mary +McGuire in regard to matters which she thought +needed attention in his house. And all this had been +done in the most open and matter-of-fact way, so that +the most accomplished gossip in Durford never accused +her of making matrimonial advances to the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_226' name='page_226'></a>226</span> +lonesome widower. Even Jonathan himself had been +clever enough to see that she regarded him much as +she would an overgrown boy, and had always accepted +her many attentions without misinterpreting them. +She was a born manager, and she managed him; that +was all. Nothing could be more unsentimental than +the way in which she would make him take off his +coat during a friendly call, and let her sponge and +press it for him; or the imperative fashion in which +she sent him to the barber’s to have his beard trimmed. +How could a man make love to a woman after she +had acted like this?</p> +<p>But he reminded himself that if he was ever to +win her he must begin to carry out the advice outlined +by Mrs. Betty; and so the apparently unsuspecting +Hepsey would find on her side porch in the morning +some specially fine corn which had been placed there +after dark without the name of the donor. Once a +fine melon was accompanied by a bottle of perfumery; +and again a basket of peaches had secreted in +its center a package of toilet soap “strong enough to +kill the grass,” as Hepsey remarked as she sniffed at +it. Finally matters reached a climax when a bushel +of potatoes arrived on the scene in the early dawn, +and with it a canary bird in a tin cage. When Hepsey +saw Jonathan later, she remarked casually that +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_227' name='page_227'></a>227</span> +she “guessed she’d keep the potatoes; but she didn’t +need a canary bird any more than a turtle needs a +tooth-pick; and he had better take it away and get +his money back.”</p> +<p>However, Jonathan never allowed her occasional +rebuffs to discourage him or stop his attentions. He +kept a close watch on all Hepsey’s domestic interests, +and if there were any small repairs to be made at +Thunder Cliff, a hole in the roof to be mended, or +the bricks on the top of the chimney to be relaid, +or the conductor pipe to be readjusted, Jonathan was +on the spot. Then Jonathan would receive in return +a layer cake with chopped walnuts in the filling, and +would accept it in the same matter-of-fact way in +which Hepsey permitted his services as general caretaker.</p> +<p>This give-and-take business went on for some time. +At last it occurred to him that Mrs. Burke’s front +porch ought to be painted, and he conceived the notion +of doing the work without her knowledge, as a pleasant +surprise to her. He waited a long time for some +day when she should be going over to shop at Martin’s +Junction,—when Nickey usually managed to be +taken along,—so that he could do the work unobserved. +Meantime, he collected from the hardware +store various cards with samples of different colors +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_228' name='page_228'></a>228</span> +on them. These he would combine and re-combine +at his leisure, in the effort to decide just what colors +would harmonize. He finally decided that a rather +dark blue for the body work would go quite well, +with a bright magenta for the trimmings, and laid in +a stock of paint and brushes, and possessed his soul +in patience.</p> +<p>So one afternoon, arriving home burdened with +the spoils of Martin’s Junction, great was Mrs. +Burke’s astonishment and wrath when she discovered +the porch resplendent in dark blue and magenta.</p> +<p>“Sakes alive! Have I got to live inside of that,” +she snorted. “Why, it’s the worst lookin’ thing I +ever saw. If I don’t settle <i>him</i>,” she added, “—paintin’ +my porch as if it belonged to him—and +me as well,” she added ambiguously. And, catching +up her sun-bonnet, she hastened over to her neighbor’s +and inquired for Jonathan. “Sure, he’s gone to +Martin’s Junction to see his brother, Mrs. Burke. +He said he’d stay over night, and I needn’t come in +again till to-morrow dinner-time,” Mary McGuire +replied.</p> +<p>Hepsey hastened home, and gathering all the rags +she could find, she summoned Nickey and Mullen, one +of the men from the farm, and they worked with +turpentine for nearly two hours, cleaning off the fresh +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_229' name='page_229'></a>229</span> +paint from the porch. Then she sent Nickey down +to the hardware store for some light gray paint and +some vivid scarlet paint, and a bit of dryer. It did +not take very long to repaint her porch gray—every +trace of the blue and the magenta having been removed +by the vigorous efforts of the three.</p> +<p>When it was finished, she opened the can of scarlet, +and pouring in a large quantity of dryer she sent +Nickey over to see if Mary McGuire had gone home. +All three set to work that evening to paint the porch +in front of Jonathan’s house. At first Mullen protested +anxiously that it was none of his business to +be painting another man’s porch, but Mrs. Burke +gave him a look which changed his convictions; so +he and Nickey proceeded gleefully to fulfill their appointed +task, while she got supper.</p> +<p>When the work was quite finished. Hepsey went +over to inspect it, and remarked thoughtfully to herself: +“I should think that a half pint of dryer might +be able to get in considerable work before to-morrow +noon. I hope Jonathan’ll like scarlet. To be sure +it does look rather strikin’ on a white house; but then +variety helps to relieve the monotony of a dead alive +town like Durford; and if he don’t like it plain, he +can trim it green. I’ll teach him to come paintin’ my +house without so much as a by-your-leave, or with-your-leave, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_230' name='page_230'></a>230</span> +lettin’ the whole place think things.”</p> +<p>As it happened, Jonathan returned late that night +to Durford—quite too late to see the transformation +of his own front porch, and since he entered by the +side door as usual, he did not even smell the new +paint. The next morning he sauntered over to Thunder +Cliff, all agog for his reward, and Mrs. Burke +greeted him at her side door, smiling sweetly.</p> +<p>“Good mornin’, Jonathan. It was awful good of +you to paint my front porch. It <i>has</i> needed paintin’ +for some time now, but I never seemed to get around +to it.”</p> +<p>“Don’t mention it, Hepsey,” Jonathan replied affably. +“Don’t mention it. You’re always doin’ somethin’ +for me, and it’s a pity if I can’t do a little thing +like that for you once in a while.”</p> +<p>Hepsey had strolled round to the front, as if to +admire his work, Jonathan following. Suddenly he +came to a halt; his jaw dropped, and he stared as if +he had gone out of his senses.</p> +<p>“Such a lovely color; gray just suits the house, you +know,” Mrs. Burke observed. “You certainly ought +to have been an artist, Jonathan. Any man with such +an eye for color ought not to be wastin’ his time on a +farm.”</p> +<p>Jonathan still gazed at the porch in amazement, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_231' name='page_231'></a>231</span> +blinked hard, wiped his eyes and his glasses with his +handkerchief, and looked again.</p> +<p>“What’s the matter with you? Have you a headache?” +Hepsey inquired solicitously.</p> +<p>“No, I haven’t got no headache; but when I left +that porch yesterday noon it was blue, and now I’m +blamed if it don’t seem gray. Does it look gray-like +to you, Hepsey?”</p> +<p>“Why certainly! What’s that you say? Do you +say you painted it blue? That certainly’s mighty +queer. But then you know some kinds of paint fade—some +kinds do!” She nodded, looking suspiciously +at the work.</p> +<p>“Fade!” Jonathan sneered. “Paints don’t fade by +moonlight in one night. That isn’t no faded blue. +It’s just plain gray. I must be goin’ color blind, or +something.”</p> +<p>“It looks gray to me, and I’m glad it is gray, so +don’t you worry about it, Jonathan. Blue would be +somethin’ awful on the front of a white house, you +know.”</p> +<p>“Well,” continued the bewildered Junior Warden, +“I’m blessed if this isn’t the queerest thing I ever see +in all my born days. If I catch the fellow that sold +me that paint, I’ll make it lively for him or my name +isn’t Jackson.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_232' name='page_232'></a>232</span></p> +<p>“Oh, I wouldn’t do anything like that! What difference +does it make, so long as I like the color myself; +it’s my house. I should have been very much +put out if you’d painted it blue; yes, I should.”</p> +<p>“But I don’t like to be cheated down at the store; +and I won’t, by gum! They said it was best quality +paint! I’ll go down to Crosscut’s and see about this +business, right now. I’ve traded with him nigh on +twenty years, and he don’t bamboozle me that way.”</p> +<p>Hepsey turned away choking with laughter, and +retreated to her kitchen.</p> +<p>Jonathan started back towards his house to get his +hat and coat, and then for the first time he caught +sight of his own porch, done in flaming scarlet, which +fairly seemed to radiate heat in the brilliant sunlight. +He stood motionless for nearly a minute, paralyzed. +Then the color began to rise in his neck and face as +he muttered under his breath:</p> +<p>“Hm! I’m on to the whole business now. I ought +to have known that Hepsey would get the best of +me. I guess I won’t go down to Crosscut’s after all.”</p> +<p>Then he walked up to the porch and touched the +scarlet paint with his finger and remarked:</p> +<p>“Set harder than a rock, by gum! She must have +used a whole lot of dryer. I’ll get even with her for +this. See if I don’t.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_233' name='page_233'></a>233</span></p> +<p>In the afternoon Jonathan brought over some fine +apples and presented them to Hepsey, who was knitting +on her side porch. She thanked him for the gift, +and the conversation drifted from one thing to another +while she waited for the expected outburst of +reproach which she knew would come sooner or later. +But curiously enough, Jonathan was more cheery and +cordial than usual, and made no allusion whatever to +the scarlet porch, which was conspicuously visible +from where they sat. Again and again Hepsey led +the conversation around to the point where it seemed +as if he must break covert, but he remained oblivious, +and changed the subject readily. Not a word on the +subject passed his lips that afternoon.</p> +<p>Then, from day to day the neighbors called and +inquired of her if Jackson had gone off his head, or +what was the matter. His flaming porch outraged +Durford’s sense of decency. She was at her wits end +to answer, without actually lying or compromising +herself; so the only thing she said was that she had +noticed that he had been acting a bit peculiar lately, +now they mentioned it. As time went on, the scarlet +porch became the talk of the town. It was duly discussed +at the sewing society, and the reading club, +and the general sentiment was practically unanimous +that Jackson must be suffering from incipient cataract +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_234' name='page_234'></a>234</span> +or senile dementia, and needed a guardian. Even +Mary McGuire remarked to Mrs. Burke that she was +afraid “that there front porch would sure set the +house on fire, if it wasn’t put out before.” Everybody +agreed that if his wife had lived, the thing +never could have happened.</p> +<p>Meantime, Jonathan went about his daily business, +serene and happy, apparently oblivious of the fact +that there was anything unusual in the decoration of +his house. When his friends began to chaff him about +the porch he seemed surprised, and guessed it was +his privilege to paint his house any color he had a +mind to, and there was no law ag’in’ it; it was nobody’s +business but his own. Tastes in color differed, +and there was no reason in the world why +all houses should be painted alike. He liked variety +himself, and nobody could say that scarlet wasn’t a +real cheerful color on a white house.</p> +<p>Occasionally people who were driving by stopped +to contemplate the porch; and the Durford Daily +<i>Bugle</i> devoted a long facetious paragraph to the matter. +All of which Mrs. Burke knew very well, and it +was having its effect on her nerves. The porch was +the most conspicuous object in view from Hepsey’s +sitting-room windows, and every time she entered the +room she found herself looking at the flaming terror +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_235' name='page_235'></a>235</span> +with increasing exasperation. Verily, if Jonathan +wanted revenge he was getting far more than he +knew: the biter was badly bit. The matter came to +a crisis one day, when Jonathan concluded a discussion +with Mrs. Burke about the pasture fence. She +burst out abruptly:</p> +<p>“Say, Jonathan Jackson, why in the name of conscience +don’t you paint your porch a Christian color? +It’s simply awful, and I’m not goin’ to sit in my +house and have to look at it all winter.”</p> +<p>Jonathan did not seem greatly stirred, and replied +in an absent-minded way:</p> +<p>“Why don’t you move your sittin’ room over to +the other side of the house, Hepsey? Then you +wouldn’t have to see it. Don’t you like scarlet?”</p> +<p>“No, I don’t like it, and if you don’t paint it out, +I will.”</p> +<p>“Don’t do nothin’ rash, Hepsey. You know sometimes +colors fade in the moonlight—some colors, that +is. Maybe that scarlet porch’ll turn to a light gray +if you let it alone.”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke could stand it no longer; so, laying +down her work she exploded her pent-up wrath:</p> +<p>“Jonathan Jackson, if that paint isn’t gone before +to-morrow, I’ll come over and paint it myself.”</p> +<p>“Oh, that isn’t necessary, Hepsey. And it might +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_236' name='page_236'></a>236</span> +set people talkin’. But if you won’t move your sittin’-room +to the other side of your own house, why don’t +you move it over to my house? You wouldn’t see so +much of the red paint then.”</p> +<p>Hepsey snorted and spluttered in baffled rage.</p> +<p>“Now, now, Hepsey,” soothed Jonathan, “if that +don’t suit you, I’ll tell you what I’ll do: I’ll paint it +over myself on one condition!”</p> +<p>“And what’s that, I’d like to know?”</p> +<p>“That you’ll marry me,” snapped Jonathan hungrily.</p> +<p>Instead of resenting such bold tactics on the part +of her suitor, Mrs. Burke gazed at him a long time +with a rather discouraged look on her face.</p> +<p>“Land sakes!” she exclaimed at last with assumed +weariness and a whimsical smile, “I didn’t know I’d +ever come to this; but I guess I’ll have to marry you +to keep you from makin’ another kind of fool of yourself; +widowers are such helpless mortals, and you certainly +do need a guardian.” She shook her head at +him despondently.</p> +<p>Jonathan advanced towards her deliberately, and +clinched the matter:</p> +<p>“Well, Hepsey, seein’ that we’re engaged––”</p> +<p>“Engaged? What do you mean? Get away, +you––” She rose from her chair in a hurry. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_237' name='page_237'></a>237</span></p> +<p>“Now Hepsey, a bargain’s a bargain: you just said +you’d have to marry me, and I guess the sooner you +do it and have it over with, the better. So, seein’ +that we are engaged to be married, as I was about to +remark when you interrupted me....” Relentlessly +he approached her once more. She retreated a step +or two.</p> +<p>“Well! Sakes alive, Jonathan! Whatever’s come +over you to make you so masterful. Well, yes then—I +suppose a bargain’s a bargain, all right. But before +your side of it’s paid up you’ve got to go right +over and paint that porch of yours a respectable +color.”</p> +<p>So, for once, Hepsey’s strategy had been manipulated +to her own defeat: Jonathan went off to town +with flying colors, and bought himself a can of pure +white paint.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch20.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 365px; height: 325px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_238' name='page_238'></a>238</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XX_MUSCULAR_CHRISTIANITY' id='CHAPTER_XX_MUSCULAR_CHRISTIANITY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XX</h2> +<h3>MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY</h3> +</div> +<p>It was eleven o’clock at night. Mrs. Betty had +retired, while her husband was still struggling +to finish a sermon on the importance of foreign +missions. Ordinarily, the work would have been congenial +and easy for him, because he was an enthusiast +in the matter of missionary work: but now for some +reason his thoughts were confused; his enthusiasm +was lacking, and his pen dragged. He tried hard to +pull himself together, but over and over again the +question kept repeating itself in his tired brain: Why +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_239' name='page_239'></a>239</span> +should the Church support foreign missions, while +she lets her hard working clergy at home suffer and +half starve in their old age, and even fails to give +them decent support while they are working in their +prime? Why should a doctor reach his highest professional +value at seventy, and a parson be past the +“dead-line” at forty-five? Here he was, subject to +the caprice and ill-will of a sour and miserly Senior +Warden, and a cowed and at least partially “bossed” +vestry—and he, the rector, with no practical power +of appeal for the enforcement of his legal contract. +It was only thanks to Jonathan Jackson, the Junior +Warden, that any revenue at all reached him; for +Bascom had used every grain of influence he possessed +to reduce or stop Maxwell’s salary. Mrs. Betty, +plucky and cheery though she was, already showed +the results of the weary struggle: it was not the work +that took the color from her cheeks and the freshness +from her face, but the worry incidental to causes +which, in any other calling in life but his, would be +removable.</p> +<p>Already he had parted with a considerable number +of his books to eke out, and meet the many calls upon +him—urgent and insistent calls. It became abundantly +clear, as his mind strayed from the manuscript +before him and turned to their immediate situation, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_240' name='page_240'></a>240</span> +that he was already forced to choose between two +alternatives: either he must give up, and own himself +and all the better influences in the place beaten by +Bascom and his satellites; or he must find some means +of augmenting his means of living, without allowing +his time and energy to be monopolized to the neglect +of essential parish and church duties.</p> +<p>As he thought on these things, somehow his enthusiasm +for foreign missions ebbed away, and left +him desperately tired and worried. He made several +abortive attempts to put some fire into his missionary +plea, but it was useless; and he was about to give +up when he heard Mrs. Betty’s gentle voice inquiring +from the next room:</p> +<p>“May I come in? Haven’t you finished that wretched +old missionary sermon yet?”</p> +<p>“No, dear; but why aren’t you asleep?”</p> +<p>“I have been anxious about you. You are worn +out and you need your rest. Now just let the heathen +rage, and go to bed.”</p> +<p>Maxwell made no reply, but picked at his manuscript +aimlessly with his pen. Betty looked into his +face, and then the whole stress of the situation +pierced her; and sitting down by his side she dropped +her head on his shoulder and with one arm around +his neck stroked his cheek with her fingers. For a few +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_241' name='page_241'></a>241</span> +moments neither of them spoke; and then Maxwell +said quietly:</p> +<p>“Betty, love, I am going to work.”</p> +<p>“But Donny, you are one of the hardest working +men in this town. What do you mean?”</p> +<p>“Oh, I mean that I am going to find secular work, +the work of a day laborer, if necessary. Matters +have come to a crisis, and I simply cannot stand this +sort of thing any longer. If I were alone I might +get along; but I have you, sweetheart, and––”</p> +<p>Maxwell stopped suddenly, and the brave little woman +at his side said:</p> +<p>“Yes, I know all about it, Donald, and I think you +are fully justified in doing anything you think best.”</p> +<p>“And you wouldn’t feel ashamed of me if I handled +a shovel or dug in the street?”</p> +<p>“I’d be the proudest woman in the town, Donny; +you are just your fine dear self, whatever you do; and +if you have the courage to put your pride in your +pocket and work in overalls, that would make you all +the finer to me. Manual work would relieve the tension +of your nerves. You seem to be in fairly good +physical condition. Don’t you worry one bit about +me. I am going to wash some lace curtains for Mrs. +Roscoe-Jones, and that will keep me out of mischief. +Now, if you will allow me, I am going to tear up +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_242' name='page_242'></a>242</span> +that sermon on foreign missions, and start a little +home mission of my own by sending you to bed.”</p> +<p>The second morning after this ruthless destruction +of Maxwell’s eloquent plea for the mission at Bankolulu, +Danny Dolan drove up to the tent-rectory at +half-past six, and Maxwell emerged and jumped up +by Danny’s side, dressed in a rather soiled suit of +overalls: Danny was a teamster, a good looking +youth, and a devoted friend of Maxwell’s since the +parson had taken care of him and his family through +an attack of malignant diphtheria. But while Danny +was a most loyal friend, he was not of the emotional +type, and so, when Maxwell had seated himself comfortably +and had lighted his briar pipe, Danny started +down the road at a vigorous pace, grinning broadly +at Maxwell’s attire as he remarked:</p> +<p>“So you’re really goin’ to work like the rest of us, +I reckon.”</p> +<p>“Right you are, Danny—four days a week, anyhow. +Don’t I look like the real thing?”</p> +<p>“Sure you do; only you better not shave every day, +and you’ll have to get your hands dirty before you +can fool anybody, and maybe your face’ll give you +away even then. Be you comfortable in them clothes?”</p> +<p>“Sure thing; I’m never so contented as I am in +working clothes.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_243' name='page_243'></a>243</span></p> +<p>“That’s all right. You’re the stuff. But how +about the proper old maids in the parish who ogle +and dance around you; they won’t cotton to your +clothes a little bit. They’ll think you’re degradin’ of +yourself and disgracin’ of the parish. Here you be +ridin’ on a stone wagon, and you don’t look a bit +better than me, if I do say it.”</p> +<p>“I’m afraid they’ll have to survive the shock somehow +or other; a man has to dress according to his +work.”</p> +<p>“Hm! Now there’s that there Mrs. Roscoe-Jones +and Miss Bascom; I’ll bet if they saw you in that rig +they’d throw a fit.”</p> +<p>“Oh no; it isn’t as bad as that, Danny.”</p> +<p>“They’d think you’d been disgraced for life, to become +a laborin’ man, you bet.”</p> +<p>“A what?”</p> +<p>“A laborin’ man.”</p> +<p>“Then you think that a parson doesn’t labor?”</p> +<p>“Well, I always thought that bein’ a parson was a +dead easy job, and a nice clean job too.”</p> +<p>“Danny,” Maxwell inquired after a momentary +silence, “don’t you suppose that a man labors with his +brain as well as with his muscles? And sometimes a +parson labors with his heart, and that is the hardest +kind of work a man ever does. The man who is most +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_244' name='page_244'></a>244</span> +of a laboring man is the man who labors with every +power and faculty he possesses.”</p> +<p>“Well, now, I guess that may be right, if you look +at it that way.”</p> +<p>“Yes; you speak of a laboring man, and you mean +a man who uses his muscles and lets his brain and his +feelings die of starvation. To try to help some one +you’re fond of, who is going to the bad, is the most +nerve-racking and exhausting work which any man +can possibly do.”</p> +<p>“Hm! you always was a dum queer parson, more +like the rest of us, somehow. And you don’t hold +that you’re disgracin’ your profession ridin’ with me, +and shovelin’ gravel?”</p> +<p>“I don’t seem to be worrying much about it, do I?”</p> +<p>“No,” he agreed—and added, “and I’m dum sure +I would like a day off now and then from preachin’ +and callin’ on old maids, if I was you. But there’s +times I might be willin’ for to let you take my work +for yours.”</p> +<p>“Now see here, if you’ll do my work for a few +days, I’ll do yours.”</p> +<p>“Well, what’d I have to do? I ’aint makin’ any +contract without specifications.”</p> +<p>“Well, suppose we say you do my work Saturday +and Sunday. That means you finish up two sermons, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_245' name='page_245'></a>245</span> +which must be original and interesting when you are +preaching to the same set of people about a hundred +and fifty times a year. Then you must go and see a +woman who is always complaining, and listen to her +woes for three-quarters of an hour. Then you must +go and see what you can do for Tom Bradsaw, who +is dying of tuberculosis. Then you must conduct a +choir rehearsal—not always the highest gratification +of a musical ear. Sunday, you must conduct four services +and try to rouse a handful of people, who stare +at you from the back pews, to some higher ideals of +life and common decency, Then––”</p> +<p>“Oh, heavens, man! Sure, an’ that’s enough; I +stick to the stone wagon every time.”</p> +<p>“You’d be a fool if you didn’t,” replied Maxwell +straightly. “Then again you get your pay promptly +every Saturday night. I never know when I am going +to get mine.”</p> +<p>“You don’t? Begad, and I wouldn’t work for anybody +if I wasn’t paid prompt. I’d sue the Bishop or +the Pope, or somebody.”</p> +<p>“Parsons don’t sue: it’s considered improper.”</p> +<p>“Well, well,” muttered the astonished Danny. +“Be you sure you can shovel stone then?” he +asked.</p> +<p>Maxwell unbuttoned his wristband, rolled up his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_246' name='page_246'></a>246</span> +sleeve. “If I can’t, I’ll know the reason why,” he +remarked tersely.</p> +<p>“That’s the stuff,” laughed Danny, looking at Maxwell’s +muscle. “I guess I don’t want to meet you out +walkin’ after dark without a gun. But say, why don’t +you swat the Bishop one, and get your pay?”</p> +<p>“The Bishop isn’t responsible.”</p> +<p>“Well, I’ll bet I know who is, dang him; and I’d +like to swat him one for you, the miserable old bag-of-bones.”</p> +<p>“Never you mind, Danny; I can take care of myself.”</p> +<p>“Sure you can, and I guess you’re a laborin’ man +all right, even if you don’t belong to the Union. Why +don’t you get up a parson’s Union and go on strike? +By Jove! I would. Let your parish go to––”</p> +<p>“Danny, don’t you think it looks like rain?”</p> +<p>“No, neither do you; but here we are at the stone +pile. My! but how the fellers will grin when they +see a tenderfoot like you, and a parson at that, +shovelin’ stone. But they won’t think any the less of +you for it, mind you,” he reassured his companion.</p> +<p>Maxwell knew most of the men, and greeted them +by name, and when he rolled up his sleeves and began +work, they quickly saw that he was “no slouch,” and +that he did not “soldier,” or shirk, as many of them +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_247' name='page_247'></a>247</span> +did—though sometimes they were inclined to rest on +their shovels and chaff him good-naturedly, and ask +him if he had his Union card with him.</p> +<p>Shoveling stone is no picnic, as Danny and his fellows +would have put it. It is not only the hard, obstructed +thrust, thrust of the shovel into the heap of +broken stone, and the constant lift and swing of each +shovelful into the wagon; it is the slow monotony of +repetition of unvarying motion that becomes most irksome +to the tyro, and wears down the nervous system +of the old hand till his whole being is leveled to the +insensibility of a soulless machine.</p> +<p>But, though new to the process itself, Maxwell was +not ignorant of its effects; and soon he found himself +distracting his attention from the strain of the muscular +tension by fitting the action to the rhythm of +some old sailor’s chanteys he had learned at college. +The effect amused the men; and then as some of them +caught the beat, and others joined in, soon the whole +gang was ringing the changes on the simple airs, and +found it a rousing and cheerful diversion from the +monotony of labor.</p> +<p>If a pause came, soon one of them would call out: +“Come on, Parson; strike up the hymn.”</p> +<p>One by one the wagons were loaded, and driven to +the road. After they had filled the last wagon, Danny +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_248' name='page_248'></a>248</span> +put on his coat, and he and Maxwell mounted and +drove out of the yard.</p> +<p>“Where are we going with this?” Maxwell inquired.</p> +<p>“Down on the state road, first turn to the left.”</p> +<p>“Why, that must be near Willow Bluff, Mr. Bascom’s +place, isn’t it?”</p> +<p>“Right opposite. Bascom, he come out yesterday, +and said he wouldn’t stand for that steam roller snortin’ +back and forth in front of his house. But Jim +Ferris told him he had his orders from Williamson, +and he wasn’t goin’ to be held up by nobody until +Williamson told him to stop. Jim isn’t any kind of +fool.”</p> +<p>When they arrived in front of Willow Bluff, they +stopped, dismounted, and dumped the crushed stone, +and then returned to the stone yard. At noon they +camped out on the curb in front of Willow Bluff. +After Maxwell had done full justice to the contents +of his dinner pail, he stretched himself full length on +the grass for a few moments, chatting with his mates +in friendly fashion. Then he went over to the roller +and assisted the engineer in “oiling up.” Being a +novice at the business, he managed to get his hands +black with oil, and smeared a streak across one cheek, +which, while it helped to obscure his identity, did not +add to his facial beauty. He was blissfully unconscious +of this. About three o’clock Bascom returned +from his office, just as Maxwell was dismounting +from the wagon after bringing a load. At first Bascom +did not recognize the rector, but a second glance +brought the awful truth home to his subliminal self, +and he stopped and stared at Maxwell, stricken dumb. +Maxwell politely touched his hat, and smilingly remarked +that it was a fine day. Bascom made no reply +at first.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_6' id='linki_6'></a> +<img src='images/illus-141.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 574px; height: 370px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 574px;'> +“I CONSIDER IT A SHAME AND A DISGRACE TO THE PARISH TO HAVE OUR RECTOR IN FILTHY CLOTHES, DRAWING STONE WITH A LOT OF RUFFIANS”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_249' name='page_249'></a>249</span></div> +<p>“Can it be possible that this is you, Mr. Maxwell?” +he almost whispered, at last.</p> +<p>“It is, to the best of my knowledge and belief.”</p> +<p>“What in the name of heaven are you working with +these men for, if I may ask?”</p> +<p>“To earn sufficient money to pay my grocer’s bill.”</p> +<p>Bascom colored hotly, and sputtered:</p> +<p>“I consider it a shame and a disgrace to the parish +to have our rector in filthy clothes, drawing stone +with a lot of ruffians.”</p> +<p>Maxwell colored as hotly, and replied:</p> +<p>“They are not ruffians, sir; they are honest men, +supporting their families in a perfectly legitimate way, +giving their labor and”—significantly—“receiving +their pay for it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_250' name='page_250'></a>250</span></p> +<p>“And you, sir, are engaged to work for the parish, +as a minister of God.”</p> +<p>“Unfortunately, I am not being paid by the parish; +that is why I am working here. Neither my wife nor +myself is going to starve.”</p> +<p>“You haven’t any pride, sir!” Bascom fumed, his +temper out of control. “We have had many incompetent +rectors, but this really surpasses anything. We +have never had anyone like you.”</p> +<p>Maxwell paused again in his work, and, leaning on +his shovel, looked Bascom in the eye:</p> +<p>“By which you mean that you have never had anyone +who was independent enough to grip the situation +in both hands and do exactly what he thought +best, independent of your dictation.”</p> +<p>“I will not converse with you any more. You are +insulting.”</p> +<p>“As the corporation is paying me for my time, I +prefer work to conversation.”</p> +<p>Bascom strode along the road towards his home. +Danny Dolan, who had been a shameless auditor of +this conversation, from the other side of the wagon, +was beside himself with delight:</p> +<p>“Holy Moses! but didn’t you give it to the old +man. And here be all your adorers from town after +comin’ to tea at the house, and you lookin’ like the +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_251' name='page_251'></a>251</span> +stoker of an engine with black grease half an inch +thick on your cheek.”</p> +<p>Maxwell pulled out his handkerchief, and made +an abortive effort to get his face clean.</p> +<p>“How is it now, Danny?”</p> +<p>“Oh, it ’aint nearly as thick in any one place; it’s +mostly all over your face now.” Then Danny laughed +irreverently again. “Sure, an’ you certainly do look +like the real thing now.”</p> +<p>Maxwell was raking gravel when the guests for +the afternoon tea were passing; and though he did +not look up, he fully realized that they had recognized +him, from the buzz of talk and the turning of +heads.</p> +<p>Danny returned from his safer distance when he +saw the coast was clear. Maxwell had a shrewd suspicion +that the boy had taken himself off believing it +might embarrass Maxwell less if any of the ladies +should speak to him.</p> +<p>“Did none of ’em know you, then?” he asked.</p> +<p>“Not one of them spoke; I guess my disguise is +pretty complete.”</p> +<p>“Thank hiven!” Danny exclaimed. “Then the +crisis is passed for to-day at least, and your reputation +is saved; but if you don’t get out of this they’ll +be comin’ out again, and then nobody knows what’ll +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_252' name='page_252'></a>252</span> +happen. Better smear some more oil over the other +cheek to cover the last bit of dacency left in you.”</p> +<p>At the end of the day’s work, Maxwell threw his +shovel into Dolan’s wagon and jumped up on the seat +with him and drove back to town.</p> +<p>“Well,” said Maxwell’s friend, delightedly, “you +done a mighty good day’s work for a tenderfoot; but +you done more with that old Bascom than in all the +rest of the day put together. My! but I thought I’d +split my sides to see you puttin’ him where he belonged, +and you lookin’ like a coal heaver. But it’s +a howlin’ shame you didn’t speak to them women, +goin’ all rigged up for the party. That would’ve been +the finishin’ touch.”</p> +<p>He swayed about on his seat, laughing heartily, +until they drew up before the rectory, where Mrs. +Betty was waiting to greet Maxwell.</p> +<p>Danny touched his cap shyly—but Betty came down +to the wagon and gave him a cheery greeting.</p> +<p>“Well—you’ve brought him back alive, Mr. Dolan, +anyway.”</p> +<p>“Yes ma’am! And I reckon he’ll keep you busy +puttin’ the food to him, if he eats like he works: he’s +a glutton for work, is Mr. Maxwell.”</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch21.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 374px; height: 337px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_253' name='page_253'></a>253</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXI_UNINVITED_GUESTS' id='CHAPTER_XXI_UNINVITED_GUESTS'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXI</h2> +<h3>UNINVITED GUESTS</h3> +</div> +<p>A few nights later, when Maxwell returned +from his work he found Mrs. Burke sitting +on the front platform of the tent with Mrs. +Betty; and having washed, and changed his clothes, +he persuaded their visitor to stay to supper. After +supper was over they sat out doors, chatting of Maxwell’s +amusing experiences.</p> +<p>They had not been sitting long when their attention +was attracted by a noise up the street, and going +to the fence they saw a horse, over which the driver +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_254' name='page_254'></a>254</span> +evidently had lost control, galloping towards them, +with a buggy which was swerving from side to side +under the momentum of its terrific speed.</p> +<p>Maxwell rushed into the middle of the street to +see if he could be of any assistance in stopping the +horse and preventing a catastrophe; but before he +could get near enough to be of any service the animal +suddenly shied, the buggy gave a final lurch, overturned, +and was thrown violently against a telegraph +pole. The horse, freed, dashed on, dragging the +shafts and part of the harness. The occupant of the +buggy had been thrown out against the telegraph pole +with considerable force, knocked senseless, and lay +in the gutter, stained with blood and dirt. Mrs. +Burke and Betty lifted the body of the buggy, while +Maxwell pulled out from under it the senseless form +of a man; and when they had turned him over and +wiped the blood from his face, they discovered, to +their utter amazement, that the victim was no less a +personage than the Senior Warden, Sylvester Bascom.</p> +<p>Of course there was nothing to be done but to carry +him as best they could into the tent, and lay him on +a lounge. Maxwell ran hastily for a doctor, while +Hepsey and Mrs. Betty applied restoratives, washed +the face of the injured man, and bound up as best +they could what appeared to be a serious wound on +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_255' name='page_255'></a>255</span> +one wrist, and another on the side of his head. The +doctor responded promptly, and after a thorough examination +announced that Bascom was seriously hurt, +and that at present it would be dangerous to remove +him. So Mrs. Betty and her guest removed Maxwell’s +personal belongings, and improvised a bed in +the front room of the tent, into which Bascom was +lifted with the greatest care. Having done what he +could, the doctor departed, promising to return soon. +In about twenty minutes there were signs of returning +consciousness, and for some time Bascom looked +about him in a dazed way, and groaned with pain. +Mrs. Burke decided at once to remain all night with +Mrs. Betty, and assist in caring for the warden until +Virginia could arrive and assume charge of the case. +After about an hour, Bascom seemed to be fully conscious +as he gazed from one face to another, and +looked wonderingly at the canvas tent in which he +found himself. Mrs. Burke bent over him and inquired:</p> +<p>“Are you in much pain, Mr. Bascom?”</p> +<p>For a moment or two the Senior Warden made no +answer; then in a hoarse whisper he inquired:</p> +<p>“Where am I? What has happened?”</p> +<p>“Well, you see, something frightened your horse, +and your buggy was overturned, and you were thrown +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_256' name='page_256'></a>256</span> +against a telegraph pole and injured more or less. +We picked you up and brought you in here, cleaned +you up, and tried to make you as comfortable as possible. +The doctor has been here and looked you over, +and will return in a few minutes.”</p> +<p>“Am I seriously injured?”</p> +<p>“You have two bad wounds, and have evidently +lost a good deal of blood; but don’t worry. Mrs. +Betty and I and the rest of us will take good care of +you and do all we can until Virginia is able to take +you home again.”</p> +<p>“Where am I?”</p> +<p>A curious expression of mild triumph and amusement +played across Mrs. Burke’s face as she replied:</p> +<p>“You are in Donald Maxwell’s tent. This was the +nearest place where we could bring you at the time +of the accident.”</p> +<p>For a moment a vestige of color appeared in Bascom’s +face, and he whispered hoarsely:</p> +<p>“Why didn’t you take me home?”</p> +<p>“Well, we were afraid to move you until the doctor +had examined you thoroughly.”</p> +<p>The patient closed his eyes wearily.</p> +<p>It was evident that he was growing weaker, and +just as the doctor returned, he again lapsed into unconsciousness. +The doctor felt of Bascom’s pulse, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_257' name='page_257'></a>257</span> +and sent Maxwell hastily for Doctor Field for consultation. +For fifteen minutes the doctors were alone +in Bascom’s room, and then Doctor Field called Maxwell +in and quietly informed him that the warden had +lost so much blood from the wound in the wrist that +there was danger of immediate collapse unless they +resorted to extreme measures, and bled some one to +supply the patient. To this Maxwell instantly replied:</p> +<p>“I am strong and well. There is no reason why +you should hesitate for a moment. Send for your +instruments at once; but my wife must know nothing +of it until it is all over with. Tell Mrs. Burke to +take her over to Thunder Cliff for an hour or two, +on the pretext of getting some bedding. Yes, I insist +on having my own way, and as you say, there is no +time to be lost.”</p> +<p>Doctor Field took Mrs. Burke aside, and the women +immediately departed for Thunder Cliff. The +necessary instruments were brought, and then the +three men entered the sick room.</p> +<p>In about twenty minutes Maxwell came out of the +invalid’s room, assisted by Doctor Field, and +stretched himself on the bed.</p> +<p>Bascom’s color began slowly to return; his pulse +quickened, and Dr. Field remarked to his colleague: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_258' name='page_258'></a>258</span></p> +<p>“Well, I think the old chap is going to pull through +after all; but it was a mighty close squeak.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile, the messenger who had been sent out +to Willow Bluff to apprise Virginia of her father’s +accident returned with the information that Virginia +had left the day before, to stay with friends, and +could not possibly get home till next day. It was decided +to telegraph for her; and in the meantime the +doctors advised that Mr. Bascom be left quietly in +his bed at the new “rectory,” and be moved home +next day, after having recovered some of his lost +strength. Mrs. Betty and Mrs. Burke took turns in +watching by the invalid that night, and it might have +been observed that his eyes remained closed, even +when he did not sleep, while Mrs. Burke was in attendance, +but that he watched Mrs. Betty with keen +curiosity and wonder, from between half-closed lids, +as she sat at the foot of his bed sewing, or moved +about noiselessly preparing the nourishment prescribed +for him by the doctors, and which the old +gentleman took from her with unusual gentleness and +patience.</p> +<p>It was Mrs. Burke who, having learned of the time +when Virginia was expected to return home, drove +out to Willow Bluff with Mr. Bascom, and assisted +in making him comfortable there before his daughter’s +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_259' name='page_259'></a>259</span> +arrival. He volunteered no word on their way +thither, but lay back among his cushions and pillows +with closed eyes, pale and exhausted—though the doctors +assured the Maxwells that there was no cause +for anxiety on the score of his removal, when they +urged that he be left in their care until he had regained +more strength.</p> +<p>It was a white and scared Virginia who listened to +Hepsey’s account of all that had happened—an account +which neither over-stated the Bascoms’ debt to +the Maxwells nor spared Virginia’s guilty conscience.</p> +<p>When she found that her father had been the guest +of the Maxwells and that they had played the part +of good Samaritans to him in the tent in which the +Senior Warden had obliged them to take refuge, she +was thoroughly mortified, and there was a struggle +between false pride and proper gratitude.</p> +<p>“It is very awkward, is it not, Mrs. Burke?” she +said. “I ought certainly to call on Mrs. Maxwell and +thank her—but—under the circumstances––”</p> +<p>“What circumstances?” asked Hepsey.</p> +<p>“Well, you know, it will be very embarrassing for +me to go to Mr. Maxwell’s tent after what has happened +between him and—my father.”</p> +<p>“I’m not sure that I catch on, Virginia. Which +happenin’ do you mean? Your father’s cold-blooded +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_260' name='page_260'></a>260</span> +ejection of the Maxwells from their house, or Mr. +Maxwell’s warm-blooded sacrifice to save your father’s +life? Perhaps it <i>is</i> a bit embarrassing, as you +call it, to thank a man for givin’ his blood to save +your father.”</p> +<p>“It is a more personal matter than that,” replied +Virginia, gazing dramatically out of the window. +“You don’t quite seem to appreciate the delicacy of +the situation, Mrs. Burke.”</p> +<p>“No, I’m blessed if I do. But then you know I’m +very stupid about some things, Virginia. Fact is, +I’m just stupid enough to imagine—no, I mean think—that +it would be the most natural thing in the world +to go straight to the Maxwells and thank ’em for all +they’ve done for your father in takin’ him in and +givin’ him the kind of care that money can’t buy. +There’s special reasons that I needn’t mention why +you should say thank you, and say it right.”</p> +<p>Virginia examined the toe of her boot for some +time in silence and then began:</p> +<p>“But you don’t understand the situation, Mrs. +Burke.”</p> +<p>“Virginia, if you don’t stop that kind of thing, I +shall certainly send for the police. Are you <i>lookin’</i> +for a situation? If you have got anything to say, +say it.” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_261' name='page_261'></a>261</span></p> +<p>“Well, to be quite frank with you, Mrs. Burke, +I must confess that at one time Mr. Maxwell and I +were supposed to be very good friends.”</p> +<p>“Naturally. You ought to be good friends with +your rector. I don’t see anything tragic about +that.”</p> +<p>“But we were something more than friends.”</p> +<p>“Who told you? You can’t believe all you hear +in a town like this. Maybe some one was foolin’ +you.”</p> +<p>“I ought to know what I am talking about. He +accepted our hospitality at Willow Bluff, and was so +attentive that people began to make remarks.”</p> +<p>“Well, people have been makin’ remarks ever since +Eve told Adam to put his apron on for dinner. Any +fool can make remarks, and the biggest fool is the +one who cares. Are you sure that you didn’t make +any remarks yourself, Virginia?”</p> +<p>Virginia instantly bridled, and looked the picture +of injured innocence.</p> +<p>“Certainly not!” she retorted. “Do you think that +I would talk about such a delicate matter before +others?”</p> +<p>“Oh no; I suppose not. But you could look wise +and foolish at the same time when Maxwell’s name +was mentioned, with a coy and kittenish air which +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_262' name='page_262'></a>262</span> +would suggest more than ten volumes of Mary Jane +Holmes.”</p> +<p>“You are not very sympathetic, Mrs. Burke, when +I am in deep trouble. I want your help, not ridicule +and abuse.”</p> +<p>“Well, I am sorry for you, Virginia, in more ways +than one. But really I’d like to know what reason +you have to think that Donald Maxwell was ever in +love with you; I suppose that’s what you mean.”</p> +<p>Virginia blushed deeply, as became a gentle maiden +of her tender years, and replied:</p> +<p>“Oh, it is not a question of things which one can +easily define. Love is vocal without words, you +know.”</p> +<p>“Hm! You don’t mean that he made love to you +and proposed to you through a phonograph? You +know I had some sort of idea that love that was all +wool, and a yard wide, and meant business, usually +got vocal at times.”</p> +<p>“But Mr. Maxwell and I were thrown together in +such an intimate way in parish work, you know.”</p> +<p>“Which did the throwing?”</p> +<p>“You don’t for one moment suppose that I would +intrude myself, or press myself on his attention, do +you?”</p> +<p>“Oh my gracious, no! He is not the kind of a man +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_263' name='page_263'></a>263</span> +to be easily impressed. He may have seen a girl or +two before he met you; of course I mean just incidentally, +as it were. Now, Virginia Bascom, allow +me to ask you one or two plain questions. Did he +ever ask you to marry him?”</p> +<p>“No, not in so many words.”</p> +<p>“Did he ever give you any plain indication that he +wanted to marry you? Did he ever play the mandolin +under your window at midnight? Did he ever steal +one of your gloves, or beg for a rose out of your +bouquet, or turn the gas out when he called?”</p> +<p>“No, but one night he sat on the sofa with me and +told me that I was a great assistance to him in his +parish work, and that he felt greatly indebted to +me.”</p> +<p>“Hm! That’s certainly rather pronounced, isn’t +it? Did you call your father, or rise hastily and leave +the room, or what did you do?”</p> +<p>“Well, of course it was not a proposal, but the +way he did it was very suggestive, and calculated to +give a wrong impression, especially as he had his arm +on the back of the sofa behind me.”</p> +<p>“Maybe he was makin’ love to the sofa. Didn’t +you know that Donald Maxwell was engaged to be +married before he ever set foot in Durford?”</p> +<p>“Good gracious, no! What are you talking about?” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_264' name='page_264'></a>264</span></p> +<p>“Well, he certainly was, for keeps.”</p> +<p>“Then he had no business to pose as a free man, +if he were engaged. It is dreadful to have to lose +faith in one’s rector. It is next to losing faith in—in––”</p> +<p>“The milk-man. Yes, I quite agree with you. But +you see I don’t recall that Donald Maxwell did any +posing. He simply kept quiet about his own affairs—though +I do think that it would have been better +to let people know that he was engaged, from the +start. However, he may have concluded his private +affairs were his own business. I know that’s very +stupid; but some people will persist in doin’ it, in spite +of all you can say to ’em. Perhaps it never occurred +to him that he would be expected to marry anyone +living in a little sawed-off settlement like this.”</p> +<p>“There’s no use in abusing your native village; +and”—her voice quavered on the verge of tears—“I +think you are very unsympathetic.” She buried +her nose in her handkerchief.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke gazed sternly at Virginia for a full +minute and then inquired:</p> +<p>“Well, do you want to know why? You started +with just foolishness, but you’ve ended up with meanness, +Virginia Bascom. You’ve taken your revenge +on people who’ve done you nothin’ but kindness. I +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_265' name='page_265'></a>265</span> +know pretty well who it was that suggested to your +father that the mortgage on the rectory should be +foreclosed, and the Maxwells turned out of house and +home. He’s always been close-fisted, but I’ve never +known him to be dead ugly and vindictive before.</p> +<p>“Yes. You were behind all this wretched business—and +you’re sorry for it, and wish you could undo +the unkindness you’ve done. Now I am goin’ to +talk business—better than talkin’ sympathy, because +it’ll make you feel better when you’ve done what I +tell you. You go and call on Mrs. Betty immediately, +and tell her that you are very grateful to her husband +for saving your father’s life, and that money couldn’t +possibly pay for the things she and Mr. Maxwell did +for him, and that you’re everlastingly indebted to ’em +both.”</p> +<p>“But—but,” wailed the repentant Virginia, “what +can I say about the tent? Pa won’t go back on that—not +if his life had been saved twice over.”</p> +<p>“Never you mind about that. You do your part +of the business, and leave the rest to the other feller. +You can bet your bottom dollar it won’t be the Maxwells +that’ll raise the question of who turned ’em out +of the rectory.”</p> +<p>“I’ll go right away, before I weaken. Oh,” she +cried, as Hepsey put a strengthening arm about her, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_266' name='page_266'></a>266</span> +“I’ve been wrong—I know I have. However shall I +make it right again?”</p> +<p>When Virginia arrived at the tent and pulled the +bell-cord, Mrs. Betty pushed apart the curtains and +greeted her visitor with the utmost cordiality.</p> +<p>“Oh, Miss Bascom! I am <i>so</i> glad to see you. +Come right in. Donald is out just now; but he will +return presently, and I’m sure will be delighted to +see an old friend. This way, please. Is your father +improving satisfactorily?”</p> +<p>This greeting was so utterly different from what +she had expected, that for the moment she was silent; +but when they were seated she began:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Maxwell, I don’t know how to express my +gratitude to you for all you have done for my father. +I—I––”</p> +<p>“Then I wouldn’t try, Miss Bascom. Don’t give +the matter a single thought. We were glad to do +what we could for your father, and we made him as +comfortable as we could.”</p> +<p>Virginia’s heart was quite atrophied, and so with +choking voice she began:</p> +<p>“And I’m afraid that I have not been very civil to +you—in fact, I am sure that I owe you an apology––”</p> +<p>“No, never mind. It’s all right now. Suppose you +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_267' name='page_267'></a>267</span> +take off your things and stay to supper with us. Then +we can have a real good visit, and you will see how +well we dwellers in tents can live!”</p> +<p>Virginia winced; but for some reason which she +could not understand she found it quite impossible +to decline the invitation.</p> +<p>“I’m sure you are very kind, Mrs. Maxwell; but +I’m afraid I shall inconvenience you.”</p> +<p>“Oh no, not a bit. Now will you be a real good +Samaritan and help me a little, as I have no maid? +You might set the table if you don’t mind, and when +Donald comes we shall be ready for him. This is +really quite jolly,” she added, bustling about, showing +Virginia where to find things.</p> +<p>“I am afraid,” Virginia began with something like +a sob in her voice, “that you are heaping coals of fire +on my head.”</p> +<p>“Oh no; not when coal is over seven dollars a ton. +We couldn’t afford such extravagant hospitality as +that. You might arrange those carnations in the vase +if you will, while I attend to the cooking. You will +find the china, and the silver, in that chest. I won’t +apologize for the primitive character of our entertainment +because you see when we came down here we +stored most of our things in Mrs. Burke’s barn. It +is awfully nice to have somebody with me; I am so +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_268' name='page_268'></a>268</span> +much alone; you came just in time to save me from +the blues.”</p> +<p>When Mrs. Betty disappeared in the “kitchen,” and +Virginia began the task assigned her, a very queer +and not altogether pleasant sensation filled her heart. +Was it remorse, or penitence, or self-reproach, or +indigestion? She could not be absolutely sure about +it, but concluded that perhaps it was a combination +of all four. When Donald returned, and discovered +Virginia trying to decide whether they would need +two spoons or three at each plate, for an instant he +was too astonished to speak; but quickly regaining his +easy manner, he welcomed her no less cordially than +Mrs. Betty had done, remarking:</p> +<p>“Well, this is a treat; and so you are going to have +supper with us? That will be a great pleasure.”</p> +<p>Virginia almost collapsed in momentary embarrassment, +and could think of nothing better than to ask:</p> +<p>“I am not sure what Mrs. Maxwell is going to +have for supper, and I really don’t know whether to +place two spoons or three. What would you advise, +Mr. Maxwell?”</p> +<p>Maxwell scowled seriously, rubbed his chin and replied:</p> +<p>“Well, you know, I really can’t say; but perhaps +it would be on the safe side to have three spoons in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_269' name='page_269'></a>269</span> +case any emergency might arise, like a custard, or +jelly and whipped cream, or something else which +Betty likes to make as a surprise. Yes, on the whole, +I think that three would be better than two.”</p> +<p>When Virginia had placed the spoons, and Maxwell +had returned to assist her, she hesitated a moment +and looked at him with tears in her eyes and +began:</p> +<p>“Mr. Maxwell, there is something I must say to +you, an acknowledgment and an apology I must make. +I have been so horribly––”</p> +<p>“Now see here, Miss Virginia,” the rector replied, +“you just forget it. We are awfully glad to have you +here, and we are going to have a right jolly supper +together. Betty’s muffins are simply fine, and her +creamed chicken is a dream. Besides, I want to consult +you concerning the new wardrobe I am going to +have built in the vestry. You see there is the question +of the drawers, and the shelves, and––”</p> +<p>“Never mind the drawers and the shelves,” Mrs. +Betty remarked as she entered with the creamed +chicken and the muffins. “You just sit down before +these things get cold, and you can talk business afterwards.”</p> +<p>To her utter astonishment Virginia soon found herself +eating heartily, utterly at her ease in the cordial, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_270' name='page_270'></a>270</span> +friendly atmosphere of tent-life, and when Maxwell +took her home later in the evening, she hadn’t apologized +or wallowed in an agony of self-reproach. She +had only demanded the recipe for the muffins, and +had declared that she was coming again very soon if +Mrs. Betty would only let her.</p> +<p>And last but not least—the rector’s polite attention +in acting as her escort home failed to work upon +her dramatic temperament with any more startling +effect than to produce a feeling that he was a very +good friend.</p> +<p>In fact, she wondered, as she conned over the +events of the evening, whether she had realized before, +all that the word <i>Friendship</i> signified.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch22.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 370px; height: 346px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_271' name='page_271'></a>271</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXII_HEPSEYS_DIPLOMACY' id='CHAPTER_XXII_HEPSEYS_DIPLOMACY'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXII</h2> +<h3>HEPSEY’S DIPLOMACY</h3> +</div> +<p>“I don’t rightly know what’s got into Virginia +Bascom,” remarked Jonathan, as he sat on +Hepsey’s side porch one evening, making polite +conversation as his new habit was. “She’s buzzin’ +round Mrs. Betty like a bee round a flower—thicker’n +thieves they be, by gum.”</p> +<p>“Yes,” cogitated Hepsey, half to herself, and half +in response, “the lamb’s lyin’ down all right, and it’s +about time we’d got the lion curled up by her and +purrin’ like a cat. But I don’t see the signs of it, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_272' name='page_272'></a>272</span> +I’ll have to take my knittin’ to-morrow and sit right +down in his den and visit with him a little. If he +won’t purr, I’ve got what’ll make him roar, good and +proper, or I’ve missed my guess.”</p> +<p>“Now Hepsey, you go easy with my church-partner, +the Senior Warden. When his wife lived, he +was a decent sort of a feller, was Sylvester Bascom; +and I reckon she got him comin’ her way more with +molasses than with vinegar.”</p> +<p>And though Hepsey snorted contempt for the advice +of a mere male, she found the thought top-side +of her mind as she started out next morning to pay +Bascom a momentous call. After all, Jonathan had +but echoed her own consistent philosophy of life. But +with her usual shrewdness she decided to go armed +with both kinds of ammunition.</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke puffed somewhat loudly as she paused +on the landing which led to the door of Bascom’s +office. After wiping her forehead with her handkerchief +she gave three loud knocks on the painted glass +of the door, which shook some of the loose putty onto +the floor. After knocking the third time some one +called out “Come in,” and she opened the door, entered, +and gazed calmly across the room. Bascom +was seated at his desk talking to a farmer, +and when he turned around and discovered +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_273' name='page_273'></a>273</span> +who his visitor was, he ejaculated irreverently:</p> +<p>“Good Lord deliver us!”</p> +<p>“Oh, do excuse me!” Mrs. Burke replied. “I didn’t +know that you were sayin’ the Litany. I’ll just slip +into the next room and wait till you get through.”</p> +<p>Whereupon she stepped into the next room, closed +the door, and made herself comfortable in a large +arm-chair. There was a long table in the middle of +the room, and the walls were covered with shelves +and yellow books of a most monotonous binding. The +air was musty and close. She quietly opened one of +the windows, and having resumed her seat, she pulled +a wash-rag from her leather bag and began knitting +calmly.</p> +<p>She waited for some time, occasionally glancing at +the long table, which was covered with what appeared +to be a hopeless confusion of letters, legal documents, +and books opened and turned face downward. Occasionally +she sniffed in disgust at the general untidiness +of the place. Evidently the appearance of the +table in front of her was getting on her nerves; and +so she put her knitting away as she muttered to herself:</p> +<p>“I wonder Virginia don’t come up here once in a +while and put things to rights. It’s simply awful!” +Then she began sorting the papers and gathering +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_274' name='page_274'></a>274</span> +them into little uniform piles by themselves. She +seemed to have no notion whatever of their possible +relation to each other, but arranged them according +to their size and color in nice little separate piles. +When there was nothing else left for her to do she +resumed her knitting and waited patiently for the departure +of the farmer. The two men seemed to be +having a rather warm dispute over the interpretation +of some legal contract; and if Bascom was hot-tempered +and emphatic in his language, bordering on the +profane, the client was stubborn and dull-witted and +hard to convince. Occasionally she overheard bits of +the controversy which were not intended for her ears. +Bascom insisted:</p> +<p>“But you’re not such a dum fool as to think that a +contract legally made between two parties is not binding, +are you? You admit that I have fulfilled my +part, and now you must pay for the services rendered +or else I shall bring suit against you.”</p> +<p>The reply to this was not audible, but the farmer +did not seem to be quite convinced.</p> +<p>After what seemed to her an interminable interval +the door banged, and she knew that Bascom was +alone. She did not wait for any invitation, but rising +quietly she went into the inner office and took the +chair vacated by the farmer. Bascom made a pretense +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_275' name='page_275'></a>275</span> +of writing, in silence, with his back towards her, +during which interval Hepsey waited patiently. Then, +looking up with the expression of a deaf-mute, he +asked colorlessly:</p> +<p>“Well, Mrs. Burke, what may I do for you?”</p> +<p>“You can do nothing for me—but you can and +must do something for the Maxwells,” she replied +firmly but quietly.</p> +<p>“Don’t you think it would be better to let Maxwell +take care of his own affairs?”</p> +<p>“Yes, most certainly, if he were in a position to do +so. But you know that the clergy are a long-sufferin’ +lot, more’s the pity; they’ll endure almost anythin’ +rather than complain. That’s why you and others +take advantage of them.”</p> +<p>“Ah, but an earnest minister of the Gospel does +not look for the loaves and fishes of his calling.”</p> +<p>“I shouldn’t think he would. I hate fish, myself; +but Maxwell has a perfect right to look for the honest +fulfillment of a contract made between you and +him. Didn’t I hear you tell that farmer that he was +a dum fool if he thought that a contract made between +two parties is not legally binding, and that if +you fulfilled your part he must pay for your services +or you would sue him? Do you suppose that a contract +with a carpenter or a plumber or a mason is +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_276' name='page_276'></a>276</span> +binding, while a contract with a clergyman is not? +What is the matter with you, anyway?”</p> +<p>Bascom made no reply, but turned his back towards +Hepsey and started to write. She resumed:</p> +<p>“Donald Maxwell’s salary is goin’ to be paid him +in full within the next two weeks or––”</p> +<p>Mrs. Burke came to a sudden silence, and after a +moment or two Bascom turned around and inquired +sarcastically:</p> +<p>“Or what?”</p> +<p>Hepsey continued to knit in silence for a while, +her face working in her effort to gain control of herself +and speak calmly.</p> +<p>“Now see here, Sylvester Bascom: I didn’t come +here to have a scene with you, and if I knit like I +was fussed, you must excuse me.”</p> +<p>Her needles had been flashing lightning, and truth +to tell, Bascom, for all he dreaded Hepsey’s sharp +tongue as nothing else in Durford, had been unable +to keep his eyes off those angry bits of sparkling steel. +Suddenly they stopped—dead. The knitting fell into +Hepsey’s lap, and she sat forward—a pair of kindly, +moist eyes searching the depths of Bascom’s, as he +looked up at her. Her voice dropped to a lower tone +as she continued:</p> +<p>“There’s been just one person, and one person only, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_277' name='page_277'></a>277</span> +that’s ever been able to keep the best of you on top—and +she was my best friend, your wife. She kept +you human, and turned even the worst side of you to +some account. If you did scrape and grub, ’most +night and day, to make your pile, and was hard on +those that crossed your path while doin’ of it, it was +she that showed you there was pleasure in usin’ it +for others as well as for yourself, and while she lived +you did it. But since she’s been gone,”—the old +man tried to keep his face firm and his glance steady, +but in vain—he winced,—“since she’s been gone, the +human in you’s dried up like a sun-baked apple. And +it’s you, Sylvester Bascom, that’s been made the most +miserable, ’spite of all the little carks you’ve put on +many another.”</p> +<p>His face hardened again, and Hepsey paused.</p> +<p>“What has all this to do with Mr. Maxwell, may +I ask?”</p> +<p>“I’m comin’ to that,” continued Hepsey, patiently. +“If Mary Bascom were alive to-day, would the rector +of Durford be livin’ in a tent instead of in the rectory—the +house she thought she had given over, without +mortgage or anything else, to the church? And +would you be holdin’ back your subscription to the +church, and seein’ that others held back too? I never +thought you’d have done, when she was dead, what’d +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_278' name='page_278'></a>278</span> +have broken her heart if she’d been livin’. The +church was her one great interest in life, after her +husband and her daughter; and it was <i>her</i> good work +that brought the parish to make you Senior Warden. +After you’d made money and moved to your new +house, just before she died, she gave the old house, +that was hers from her father, to the church, and you +were to make the legal transfer of it. Then she died +suddenly, and you delayed and delayed—claiming the +house as yours, and at last sold it to us subject to the +mortgage.”</p> +<p>The old man stirred uneasily in his chair.</p> +<p>“This is all quite beside the mark. What might +have been proper to do in my wife’s life-time became +a different matter altogether after her death. I had +my daughter’s welfare to think of; besides––”</p> +<p>“I’m not talkin’ about your legal right. But you +know that if you’d wanted to have it, you could have +got your interest on the mortgage quick enough. If +you hadn’t held back on his salary, others wouldn’t +have; or if they had, you could have got after ’em. +What’s the use of tryin’ to mix each other up? You +couldn’t keep Maxwell in your pocket, and because +he didn’t come to you every day for orders you reckoned +to turn him out of the parish. You’ve not one +thing against him, and you know it, Sylvester Bascom. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_279' name='page_279'></a>279</span> +He’s shown you every kind of respect as his Senior +Warden, and more patience than you deserved. He +let himself be—no, <i>had</i> himself—bled, to save your +life. But instead of making him the best young friend +you could have had, and makin’ yourself of real use +to your town and your neighbors through him and his +work, you’ve let the devil get into you; and when +your accident come, you’d got to where you were runnin’ +that fast down a steep place into the sea that I +could ’most hear the splash.”</p> +<p>She cocked her head on one side, and smiled at him +whimsically, hoping for some response to her humorous +picture. A faint ghost of a smile—was it, or was +it not?—flickered on the old man’s lips; but he gave +no sign of grace.</p> +<p>Hepsey sighed, and paused for an instant. “Well—we +can’t sit here talkin’ till midnight, or I shall be +compromisin’ your reputation, I suppose. There’ll +be a meeting of the parishioners called at the end of +this week, and the rector won’t be present at it; so, +Warden, I suppose you’ll preside. I hope you will. +I’ve got to do my part—and that is to see that the parish +understands just how their rector’s placed, right +now, both about his house and his salary. He’s workin’ +as a laborer to get enough for him and that little +wife of his to live on, and the town knows it—but +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_280' name='page_280'></a>280</span> +they don’t all know that it’s because the salary that’s +properly his is bein’ held back on him, and by those +that pay their chauffeurs more than the rector gets, +by a good piece. I shall call on every one at that +meetin’ to pay up; and I shall begin with the poorest, +and end up”—she fixed Bascom’s eye, significantly—“with +the richest. And if it seems to be my duty to +do it, I may have somethin’ more to say when the subscription’s +closed—but I don’t believe—no,” she added, +opening her bag and rummaging about among its +contents till she hit upon a letter and brought it forth, +“no, I don’t believe I’ll have to say a thing. I’ve +got a hunch, Sylvester Bascom, that it’ll be you that’ll +have the last word, after all.”</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_7' id='linki_7'></a> +<img src='images/illus-280.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 538px; height: 392px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 538px;'> +“I’VE GOT A HUNCH, SYLVESTER BASCOM, THAT IT’LL BE YOU THAT’LL HAVE THE LAST WORD, AFTER ALL”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<p>The old man’s glance was riveted upon the familiar +handwriting of the faded letter, and without a word +Hepsey started to read it, date and all, in a clear +voice:</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 1.5625em;'><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Willow Bluff, Durford</span>.</span><br /> +September ––, 19—.<br /></p> +<p><span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Hepsey dear</span>:</p> +<p>I suppose you will never forgive me for making the +move from the old house to Willow Bluff, as it’s to +be called, while you were not home to help me. But +they got finished sooner than we thought for, and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_281' name='page_281'></a>281</span> +Sylvester was as eager as a child with a new toy to +get moved in. So here we are, and the first letter I +write from our new home is to you, who helped more +than anyone to make the old home happy for me and +mine—bless them and bless you!</p> +<p>Everything is out of the old house—“The Rectory” +as I shall call it, now—except such pieces of furniture +as we did not want to take away, and we thought +might be welcome to the parson (or parsons, I suppose) +who may occupy it. Sister Susan thought it +slighting to Pa’s generosity to give the house to the +church; but I don’t look at it like that. Anyway, it’s +done now—and I’m very happy to think that the flock +can offer a proper home to its shepherd, as long as +the old place stands.</p> +<p>If you get back Thursday I shall just be ready for +you to help me with the shades and curtains, if you +care to.</p> +<p style='margin-left:0.0em; margin-right:0.0em; text-align:right'><span style='margin-right: 4.6875em;'>Your friend,</span><br /> +<span style='font-variant:small-caps'>Marion Anderson Bascom</span>.<br /></p> +<p>P. S. Ginty sends her love to Aunt Hepsey, and +says, “to come to Boston quick!” She’s a little confused, +someway, and can’t get it out of her head that +we’re not back home in Boston, since we left the old +place. I hope you are having a nice visit with Sally.</p> +<hr class='tb' /> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_282' name='page_282'></a>282</span></div> +<p>As Hepsey read, Sylvester Bascom turned, slowly, +away from her, his head on his hand, gazing out of +the window. When she had finished reading, the letter +was folded up and replaced in the bag along with +her knitting. Then, laying her hand with a gentle, +firm pressure on the old man’s shoulder, Mrs. Burke +departed.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch23.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 378px; height: 330px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_283' name='page_283'></a>283</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIII_HEPSEY_CALLS_A_MEETING' id='CHAPTER_XXIII_HEPSEY_CALLS_A_MEETING'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIII</h2> +<h3>HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING</h3> +</div> +<p>For the next few days Hepsey’s mind worked +in unfamiliar channels, for her nature was +that of a benevolent autocrat, and she had +found herself led by circumstances into a situation demanding +the prowess and elasticity of the diplomat. +To begin with, she must risk a gamble at the meeting: +if the spiritual yeast did not rise in old Bascom, +as she hoped it would, and crown her strategy with +success, she would have to fall back on belligerent +tactics, and see if it were not possible to get his duty +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_284' name='page_284'></a>284</span> +out of him by threatened force of public opinion: and +she knew that, with his obstinacy, it would be touch +and go on which side of the fence he would fall in +a situation of that kind—dependent, in fact, upon the +half turn of a screw, more or less, for the result. +Furthermore, she concluded that beyond the vaguest +hint of her call on Bascom and the object of the +meeting, she could not show her hand to Maxwell; +for he would feel it his duty to step in and prevent +the possibility of any such open breach as failure on +Hepsey’s part would probably make in the parish +solidarity. For once she must keep her own counsel—except +for Jonathan, whose present infatuated condition +made him an even safer and more satisfactory +source of “advice” than he normally was. But the +evening before the meeting, as he sat on Hepsey’s +porch, he began to experience qualms, perhaps in his +capacity as Junior Warden. But Hepsey turned upon +him relentlessly:</p> +<p>“Now see here! You know I don’t start somethin’ +unless I can see it through; and if it means a +scrap, so much the better. Next to a good revival, +a good hard scrap in a stupid parish has a real spiritual +value. It stimulates the circulation, increases +the appetite, gives people somethin’ to think about, +and does a lot of good where peaceful ways would +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_285' name='page_285'></a>285</span> +fail. The trouble with us is that we’ve always been +a sight too peaceful. If I’ve got to do it, I’m goin’ +to make a row, a real jolly row that’ll make some +people wish they’d never been born. No-no-no! Don’t +you try to interfere. We’ve come to a crisis, and I’m +goin’ to meet it. Don’t you worry until I begin to +holler for first aid to the injured. A woman can’t +vote for a vestryman, though women form the bulk +of the congregation, and do most all of the parish +work; and the whole church’d go to smithereens if it +weren’t for the women. But there’s one thing a woman +can always do: <i>She can talk</i>. They say that talk +is cheap; but sometimes it’s a mighty expensive article, +if it’s the right kind; and maybe the men will have +to settle the bills. I’m going to <i>talk</i>; perhaps you +think that’s nothing new. But you don’t know how I +can talk when once I get my dander up. Somebody’s +goin’ to sit up and pay attention this time. Bascom’ll +conclude to preside at the meetin’; whichever way he +means to act; and I’ve fixed it so Maxwell will be +engaged on other duties. No; go ’way. I don’t want +to see you around here again until the whole thing’s +over.”</p> +<p>“All right Hepsey, all right. I guess if it goes +through the way you want you’ll be that set up you’ll +be wantin’ to marry old Bascom ’stead of me,” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_286' name='page_286'></a>286</span> +chuckled Jonathan, as the lady of his choice turned +to enter the house.</p> +<p>She faced round upon him as she reached the door, +her features set with grim determination:</p> +<p>“If I get the whole caboodle, bag and baggage, +from the meetin’ and from Bascom, there’s no knowin’ +but what I’ll send for the parson and be married +right there and then. There isn’t a thing I could +think of, in the line of a real expensive sacrifice, that’d +measure up as compensation for winnin’ out—not +even marryin’ you, Jonathan Jackson.”</p> +<p>So Hepsey laid down lines for control of the meeting, +ready with a different variety of expedients, from +point to point in its progress, as Sylvester Bascom’s +attitude at the time might necessitate. For she felt +very little anxiety as to her ability to carry the main +body of the audience along with her.</p> +<p>The night of the meeting the Sunday School Room, +adjacent to the church, was filled full to a seat at least +a quarter of an hour before the time announced for +the meeting. Hepsey had provided herself with a +chair in the center of the front row, directly facing +the low platform to be occupied by the chairman. +Her leather bag hung formidably on one arm, and +a long narrow blank book was laid on her lap. She +took little notice of her surroundings, and her anxiety +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_287' name='page_287'></a>287</span> +was imperceptible, as she thrummed with a pencil +upon the book, glancing now and then at the side +door, watching for Bascom’s entrance. The meeting +buzzed light conversation, as a preliminary. Had +she miscalculated on the very first move? Was he +going to treat the whole affair with lofty disdain? +As the hour struck, dead silence reigned in the room, +expectant; and Jonathan, who sat next her, fidgeted +nervously.</p> +<p>“Five minutes’ grace, and that’s all; if he’s not +here by then, it’ll be up to you to call the meetin’ to +order,” whispered Hepsey.</p> +<p>“Sakes!” hissed the terrified Junior Warden, “you +didn’t say nothin’ about that, Hepsey,” he protested.</p> +<p>She leveled a withering glance at him, and was +about to reduce him to utter impotence by some scathing +remark, when both were startled by a voice in +front of them, issuing from “the chair.” Silently the +Senior Warden had entered, and had proceeded to +open the meeting. His face was set and stern, and +his voice hard and toneless. No help from that quarter, +Hepsey mentally recorded.</p> +<p>“As the rector of this parish is not able to be present +I have been asked to preside at this meeting. I +believe that it was instigated—that is suggested, by +some of the ladies who believe that there are some +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_288' name='page_288'></a>288</span> +matters of importance which need immediate attention, +and must be presented to the congregation without +delay. I must beg to remind these ladies that the +Wardens and Vestrymen are the business officers of +the church; and it seems to my poor judgment that +if any business is to be transacted, the proper way +would be for the Vestry to take care of it. However, +I have complied with the request and have undertaken +to preside, in the absence of the rector. The +meeting is now open for business.”</p> +<p>Bascom sat down and gazed at the audience, but +with a stare so expressionless as gave no further index +to his mood. For some time there was a rather +painful silence; but at last Hepsey Burke arose and +faced about to command the audience.</p> +<p>“Brethren and sisters,” she began, “a few of us +women have made up our minds that it’s high time +that somethin’ was done towards payin’ our rector +what we owe him, and that we furnish him with a +proper house to live in.”</p> +<p>At this point, a faint murmur of applause interrupted +the speaker, who replied: “There. There. +Don’t be too quick. You won’t feel a bit like applaudin’ +when I get through. It’s a burnin’ shame +and disgrace that we owe Mr. Maxwell about two +hundred dollars, which means a mighty lot to him, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_289' name='page_289'></a>289</span> +because if he was paid in full every month he would +get just about enough to keep his wife and himself +from starvin’ to death. I wasn’t asked to call this +meetin’; I asked the rector to, and I asked the Senior +Warden to preside. And I told the rector that some +of us—both men and women—had business to talk +about that wasn’t for his ears. For all he knows, +we’re here to pass a vote of censure on him. The fact +is that we have reached the point where somethin’ +has got to be done right off quick; and if none of the +Vestrymen do it, then a poor shrinkin’ little woman +like myself has got to rise and mount the band wagon. +I’m no woman’s rights woman, but I have a conscience +that’ll keep me awake nights until I have freed +my mind.”</p> +<p>Here Hepsey paused, and twirling her pencil between +her lips, gazed around at her auditors who +were listening with breathless attention. Then she +suddenly exclaimed with suppressed wrath, and in +her penetrating tones:</p> +<p>“What is the matter with you men, anyway? You’d +have to pay your butcher, or your baker, or your +grocer, whether you wanted to or not. Then why in +the name of conscience don’t you pay your parson? +Certainly religion that don’t cost nothin’ is worse +than nothin’. I’ll tell you the reason why you don’t +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_290' name='page_290'></a>290</span> +support your parson: It’s just because your rector’s +a gentleman, and can’t very well kick over the traces, +or balk, or sue you, even if you do starve him. So +you, prosperous, big-headed men think that you can +sneak out of it. Oh, you needn’t shuffle and look +mad; you’re goin’ to get the truth for once, and I had +Johnny Mullins lock the front door before I began.”</p> +<p>The whole audience responded to this sally with a +laugh, but the speaker relented not one iota. “Then +when you’ve smit your rector on one cheek you quote +the Bible to make him think he ought to turn his +overcoat also.” Another roar. “There: you don’t +need to think I’m havin’ a game. I’m not through +yet. Now let’s get right down to business. We owe +our rector a lot of money, and he is livin’ in a tent +because we neglected to pay the interest on the rectory +mortgage held by the Senior Warden of our church. +Talkin’ plain business, and nothin’ else, turned him +out of house and home, and we broke our business +contract with him. Yes we did! And now you know +it.</p> +<p>“Some of us have been sayin’—and I was one of +’em till Mr. Maxwell corrected me—that it was mean +of Mr. Bascom to turn the rector and his wife out +of their house. But business is business, and until +we’ve paid the last cent of our contributions, we +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_291' name='page_291'></a>291</span> +haven’t any right to throw stones at anyone. Wait +till we’ve done our part, for that! We’ve been the +laughing stock of the whole town because of our +pesky meanness. That tent of ours has stuck out on +the landscape like a horse fly on a pillow sham.</p> +<p>“It’s not my business to tell how the rector and his +wife have had to economize and suffer, to get along +at all; or how nice and uncomplainin’ they’ve been +through it all. They wouldn’t want me to say anythin’ +of that; sportsmen they are, both of ’em. The +price of food’s gone up, and the rector’s salary gone +down like a teeter on a log.</p> +<p>“Now, as I remarked before, let’s get right down +to business. The only way to raise that money is to +raise it! There’s no use larkin’ all ’round Robin +Hood’s barn, or scampering round the mulberry bush +any longer. I don’t care for fairs myself, where you +have to go and buy somethin’ you don’t want, for +five times what it’s worth, and call it givin’ to the +Lord. And I don’t care to give a chicken, and then +have to pay for eatin’ the same old bird afterwards. +I won’t eat soda biscuit unless I know who made ’em. +Church fairs are an invention of the devil to make +people think they’re religious, when they are only +mighty restless and selfish.</p> +<p>“The only thing to do is to put your hands in your +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_292' name='page_292'></a>292</span> +trousers pockets and pay, cash down, just as you +would in any business transaction. And by cash, I +don’t mean five cents in the plate Sunday, and a dollar +for a show on Tuesday. We’ve none of us any business +to pretend to give to the Lord what doesn’t cost +a red cent, as the Bible says, somewheres. Now don’t +get nervous. I’m going to start a subscription paper +right here and now. It’ll save lots of trouble, and +you ought to jump at the chance. You’ll be votin’ +me a plated ice-water pitcher before we get through, +for bein’ so good to you—just as a little souvenir of +the evenin’.”</p> +<p>A disjointed murmur of disapproval rose from sundry +parts of the room at this summary way of meeting +the emergency. Nelson, who had tried in vain to +catch the eye of the chair, rose at a venture and remarked +truculently:</p> +<p>“This is a most unusual proceeding, Mrs. Burke.”</p> +<p>The chair remained immobile—but Hepsey turned +upon the foe like a flash of lightning.</p> +<p>“Precisely, Mr. Nelson. And we are a most unusual +parish. I don’t claim to have any information +gained by world-wide travel, but livin’ my life as I’ve +found it here, in ths town, I’ve got to say, that this +is the first time I ever heard of a church turnin’ its +rector out of house and home, and refusin’ to give +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_293' name='page_293'></a>293</span> +him salary enough to buy food for his family. Maybe +in the course of your professional travels this +thing has got to be an everyday occurrence to you,—but +there’s some of us here, that ’aint got much interest +in such goings-on, outside of Durford.”</p> +<p>“You have no authority to raise money for the +church; I believe the Warden will concur in that opinion?” +and he bowed towards Bascom.</p> +<p>“That is a point for the meeting to decide,” he replied +judicially, as Hepsey turned towards him.</p> +<p>“Seems to me,” continued Mrs. Burke, facing the +audience, “that authority won’t fill the rector’s purse +so well as cash. It’s awful curious how a church with +six Vestrymen and two Wardens, all of them good +business men—men that can squeeze money out of a +monkey-wrench, and always get the best of the other +fellow in a horse-trade, and smoke cigars enough to +pay the rector’s whole salary—get limp and faint and +find it necessary to fall back on talkin’ about ‘authority’ +when any money is to be raised. What we want +in the parish is not authority, but just everyday plain +business hustle, the sort of hustle that wears trousers; +and as we don’t seem to get that, the next best kind is +the sort that wears skirts. I’d always rather that men +shall do the public work than women; but if men +won’t, women must. What we need right here in +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_294' name='page_294'></a>294</span> +Durford is a few full grown men who aren’t shirks +or quitters, who can put up prayers with one hand +while they put down the cash with the other; and I +don’t believe the Lord ever laid it up against any +man who paid first, and prayed afterwards.</p> +<p>“Now brethren, don’t all speak at once. I’m goin’ +to start takin’ subscriptions. Who’s goin’ to head the +list?”</p> +<p>A little withered old woman laboriously struggled +to her feet, and in a high-pitched, quavering voice +began:</p> +<p>“I’d like to give suthin’ towards the end in view. +Our rector were powerful good to my Thomas when +he had the brown kitties in his throat. He came to +see him mos’ every day and read to him, and said +prayers with him, and brought him papers and jelly. +He certainly were powerful good to my Thomas; +and once when Thomas had a fever our rector said +that he thought that a bath would do my Thomas a +heap of good, and he guessed he’d give him one. So +I got some water in a bowl and some soap, and our +rector he just took off his coat, and his vest, and his +collar, and his cuffs, and our rector he washed Thomas, +and he washed him, and he wa––”</p> +<p>“Well,” Hepsey interrupted, to stay the flow of eloquence, +“so you’d like to pay for his laundry now, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_295' name='page_295'></a>295</span> +would you Mrs. Sumner? Shall I put you down for +two dollars? Good! Mrs. Sumner sets the ball rollin’ +with two dollars. Who’ll be the next?”</p> +<p>As there was no response, Mrs. Burke glanced +critically over the assembly until she had picked her +man, and then announced:</p> +<p>“Hiram Mason, I’m sure you must be on the anxious +bench?”</p> +<p>Hiram colored painfully as he replied:</p> +<p>“I don’t know as I am prepared to say what I can +give, just at present, Mrs. Burke.”</p> +<p>“Well now let’s think about it a little. Last night’s +<i>Daily Bugle</i> had your name in a list of those that gave +ten dollars apiece at St. Bridget’s fair. I suppose the +Irish trade’s valuable to a grocer like yourself; but +you surely can’t do less for your own church? I’ll +put you down for ten, though of course you can +double it if you like.”</p> +<p>“No,” said Hiram, meditatively; “I guess ten’ll +do.”</p> +<p>“Hiram Mason gives ten dollars. The Lord loveth +a cheerful giver. Thanks, Hiram.”</p> +<p>Again there was a pause; and as no one volunteered, +Hepsey continued:</p> +<p>“Sylvester Perkins, how much will you give?”</p> +<p>“I suppose I’ll give five dollars,” Sylvester responded, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_296' name='page_296'></a>296</span> +before Mrs. Burke could have a chance to put him +down for a larger sum. “But I don’t like this way +of doin’ things a little bit. It’s not a woman’s +place to hold up a man and rob him in public +meetin’.”</p> +<p>“No, a woman usually goes through her husband’s +pockets when he’s asleep, I suppose. But you see I’m +not your wife. Thanks, Mr. Perkins: Mr. Perkins, +<i>five</i> dollars,” she repeated as she entered his subscription +in the book. “Next?” she called briskly.</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke, I’ll give twenty dollars, if you think +that’s enough,” called a voice from the back timidly.</p> +<p>Everyone turned to the speaker in some surprise. +He was a delicate, slender fellow, evidently in bad +health. He trembled nervously, and Mrs. Burke +hesitated for an instant, between fear of hurting his +feelings and letting him give more than she knew he +could possibly afford.</p> +<p>“I am afraid you ought not to give so much, Amos. +Let me put you down for five,” she said kindly. “We +mustn’t rob Peter to pay Paul.”</p> +<p>“No, ma’am, put me down for twenty,” he persisted; +and then burst forth—“and I wish it was +twenty thousand. I’d do anything for Mr. Maxwell; +I owe it to him, I tell you.”</p> +<p>The speaker hesitated a moment and wiped his +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_297' name='page_297'></a>297</span> +forehead with his handkerchief, and then continued +slowly, and with obvious effort:</p> +<p>“Maybe you’ll think I am a fool to give myself +away before a crowd like this, and I a member of +the church; but the simple fact is that Mr. Maxwell +saved my life once, when I was pretty near all in.”</p> +<p>Again the speaker stopped, breathing heavily, and +there was absolute silence in the room. Regaining his +courage, he continued: “Yes, he saved me, body and +soul, and I guess I’ll tell the whole story. Most of +you would have kicked me into the street or lodged +me in jail; but he wasn’t that kind, thank God!</p> +<p>“I was clerking in the Post Office a while back, and +I left town one night, suddenly. I’d been drinking +some, and when I left, my accounts were two hundred +dollars short. The thing was kept quiet. Only two +men knew about it. Mr. Maxwell was one. He got +the other man to keep his mouth shut, handed over +the amount, and chased after me and made me come +back with him and stay at his house for a while. Then +he gave me some work and helped me to make a new +start. He didn’t say a word of reproach, nor he +didn’t talk religion to me. He just acted as if he +cared a whole lot for me, and wanted to put me on +my feet again.</p> +<p>“I didn’t know for a long time where Mr. Maxwell +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_298' name='page_298'></a>298</span> +got the money for me but after a while I discovered +that he’d given a chattel mortgage on his +books and personal belongings. Do you suppose +that there’s anybody else in the world would have +done that for me? It wasn’t only his giving me the +money; it was finding that somebody trusted me and +cared for me, who had no business to trust me, and +couldn’t afford to trust me. That’s what saved me +and kept me straight.</p> +<p>“I haven’t touched a drop since, and I never will. +I’ve been paying my debt to him as quick as I can, +and as far as money can pay it; but all the gold in +the world wouldn’t even me up with him. I don’t +know just why I’ve told all about it, but I guess it’s +because I felt you ought to know the kind of a man +the rector is; and I’m glad he isn’t here, or he’d never +have let me give him away like this.”</p> +<p>Amos sat down, while the astonished gathering +stared at him, the defaulter, who in a moment of +gratitude had betrayed himself. The woman next to +him edged a little farther away from him and watched +him furtively, but he did not seem to care.</p> +<p>Under the stimulus of this confession, the feelings +of the people quickly responded to the occasion, and +a line soon formed, without further need of wit or +eloquence on Hepsey’s part, to have their subscriptions +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_299' name='page_299'></a>299</span> +recorded. In half an hour, Mrs. Burke, whose +face was glowing with pleasure—albeit she glanced +anxiously from time to time towards old Mr. Bascom, +in an endeavor to size up his mood and force +his intentions—had written down the name of the last +volunteer. She turned towards her audience:</p> +<p>“As I don’t want to keep you waitin’ here all night +while I add up the subscriptions, I’ll ask the chairman +to do it for me and let you know the result. He’s +quicker at figurin’ than I am, I guess,” with which +compliment, she smilingly handed the book to the +Senior Warden. While the old man bent to his task, +the room buzzed with low, excited conversation. +Enough was already known of Bascom’s hostility to +the rector, to make the meeting decidedly curious as +to his attitude towards Hepsey’s remarks and the +mortgage; and they knew him well enough to be +aware that he would not allow that item in her speech +to go unanswered, in some way or other.</p> +<p>All eyes rested upon the gaunt figure of the chairman, +as he rose to his feet to announce the total of +the subscription list. He cleared his throat, and +looked down at Hepsey Burke; and Jonathan, as he +squinted anxiously at Hepsey by his side, noticed that +she sat with her eyes tight-closed, oblivious of the +chairman’s glance. Jonathan looked hastily up at Bascom, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_300' name='page_300'></a>300</span> +and noticed him shift his position a little nervously, +as he cleared his throat again.</p> +<p>“The amount subscribed on this list, is two hundred +and thirty-seven dollars and thirty-five cents,” he +said. The loud applause was instantaneous, and Jonathan +turned quickly to Hepsey, as he stamped his +feet and clapped his hands.</p> +<p>“Thirty-seven thirty-five more than we owe him; +Hepsey, you’ve done fine,” he chortled.</p> +<p>But Hepsey’s look was now riveted on the chairman, +and except for a half-absent smile of pleasure, +the keenest anxiety showed in her expression.</p> +<p>Bascom cleared his voice again, and then proceeded:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke informed you that the rector’s salary +was in arrears to the extent of about two hundred +dollars. It is now for this meeting to pass a formal +resolution for the application of the amount subscribed +to the object in view.”</p> +<p>Hepsey’s lips narrowed; not a cent was down on +the list to the name of the Senior Warden; the debt +was being paid without assistance from him.</p> +<p>“I presume I may put it to the meeting that the +amount, when collected, be paid over to the rector by +a committee formed for that purpose?” proceeded +the chairman. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_301' name='page_301'></a>301</span></p> +<p>This resolution being duly seconded and carried, +Bascom continued:</p> +<p>“Before we adjourn I request the opportunity to +make a few remarks, in reply to Mrs. Burke’s observations +concerning the ejection of the rector from +the house which he occupied. She was good enough +to spare my feelings by pointing out that from a business +or legal point of view it was not I who was responsible +for that act, but the parishioners, who, having +purchased the rectory subject to a mortgage, had +failed to meet the interest upon it. That is what Mrs. +Burke said: what she did not say, and what none of +you have said in public, though I reckon you’ve said +it among yourselves, I will take upon myself to say +for her and you.”</p> +<p>He paused—and every eye was fixed upon him and +every mouth agape in paralysed astonishment: and +the said features of Hepsey Burke were no exception +to the rule.</p> +<p>“When,” continued Bascom evenly and urbanely, +“the word went round that the interest on the mortgage +had got behind, and the money must be collected +for it, those concerned no doubt remarked easily: ‘Oh, +I guess that’ll be all right. Bascom won’t worry about +that; he don’t need it; anyway he can pay it to himself, +for the parish, if he does.’” +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_302' name='page_302'></a>302</span></p> +<p>There was an uncomfortable stirring of the audience +at this shrewd thrust; but Hepsey could not contain +herself, and laughed right out, clapping loudly.</p> +<p>“And yet I don’t mind saying that if I had thought +of suggesting to anyone of you such a method of collecting +interest due to you, you might have kicked +some,” he commented dryly.</p> +<p>“At the next step, when I ultimately concluded to +act upon my right to eject Mr. Maxwell from the +rectory, I’ve no doubt that on all sides it was: ‘Well, +did you ever know the likes of that? Turning the +rector out of house and home! Well he’s a skinflint +for fair!’”</p> +<p>He paused and watched the effect. This time his +hearers sat absolutely motionless.</p> +<p>“And I agree with you,” he added presently, in a +quiet voice: “I <i>was</i> a skinflint for fair!”</p> +<p>Almost Hepsey forgot herself so far as to clap +thunderously: she caught her hands together just in +time—recollecting that her demonstration would be +taken too literally.</p> +<p>“But I would not have you misunderstand me: +though it was for me to call myself a skinflint for that +act, it was not for you to do so. You did so on +wrong grounds. Those who in making money have +been less successful than others, find it convenient to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_303' name='page_303'></a>303</span> +leave all such obligations upon the shoulders of the +richer man, and to say ‘it’s up to him; he can afford +it.’ Is it any wonder that it makes the rich man sour +on subscriptions and philanthropies? He has as +much, or more, of inducement to apply his earnings +and savings to his own ends and pleasures; why then, +is it not up to all, in their own proportions to meet +social needs? A good many years of such meanness +among his neighbors makes even a rich man sour and +mean, I guess. And that’s what it made me—and +though that isn’t a justification of my act, it gave me +as much right to call you skinflints as for you to call +me: all except one of you, Hepsey Burke.”</p> +<p>The meeting quivered with tense excitement. What +did it all mean? If a chicken had sneezed the whole +gathering would have been dissolved in hysterics, it +was so keyed up with a sense of the impending disclosure +of a deep mystery. As for Hepsey, she sat +motionless, though Jonathan believed that he caught +sight of a tear glistening in its descent.</p> +<p>“Hepsey Burke had a right to call me a skinflint, +because she knew what none of you knew; but because +it was private knowledge she wouldn’t make use of it +against me—not unless she couldn’t have done what +was right any other way. And now I’m going to tell +you what she knew: +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_304' name='page_304'></a>304</span></p> +<p>“The rectory was my wife’s property, and she intended +it as a gift to the parish, for the rectory of +the church. I was preparing the deeds of transfer, +when she died—suddenly, as some of you remember,” +his voice made heroic efforts to keep clear and steady, +“owing to her death before the transfer, that house +passed to our daughter; and what I intended to do +was to buy it of her and present it to the parish. I +delayed, at first for good reasons. And I suppose as +I got more and more lonesome and mixed less and +less with people, I got sourer—and then I delayed +from meanness. It would have been easy enough for +me to buy it of my daughter, and she’d have been +willing enough; but as I saw more and more put upon +me, and less and less human recognition—I was ‘a +rich man,’ and needed no personal sympathy or encouragement, +it seemed—I held back. And I got so +mean, I couldn’t make friends with the rector, +even.”</p> +<p>He paused, and from the half smile on his face, +and the hint of brightness that passed over his expression, +the audience caught relief.</p> +<p>“I guess a good shaking up is good for a man’s +liver: it cures a sour stomach—and as there are those +that say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, +perhaps it cures a sour heart. I got my shaking +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_305' name='page_305'></a>305</span> +up all right, as you know; and perhaps that’s been +working a cure on me. Or perhaps it was the quiet +ministrations of that little Mrs. Betty of yours”—applause—“or +the infusion of some of the rector’s +blood in my veins (he let himself be bled to keep me +alive, after I’d lost what little blood I had, as you +probably have never heard)”—shouts of applause—“or +possibly what cured me was a little knitting-visit +that Hepsey Burke paid me the other day, and during +which she dropped some home-truths: I can’t say.</p> +<p>“Before I decided what I would do about the rectory, +I wanted to see what you would do, under Mrs. +Burke’s guidance, this evening. You’ve shouldered +your share, as far as the rector’s salary is concerned. +Well—I’ll add what I consider my fair share to that, +fifty dollars. The arrears due on the mortgage interest +is one hundred and twenty dollars. I shall hold +you to your side of that bargain, to date. If you pay +the rector the two hundred dollars due him on his +salary, you will need to subscribe about another forty +to make up the interest: that done, and paid to me, I +will do my part, and present the rectory to the parish, +in memory of my dear wife, as she desired.”</p> +<p>He sat down.</p> +<p>Hepsey rose and called out in a clear voice:</p> +<p>“He’s right; Mr. Bascom’s dead right; it’s up to +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_306' name='page_306'></a>306</span> +us to be business first, and clear ourselves of the debt +on a business bargain; then we can accept the gift +without too much worryin’.” And she sent a very +friendly smile over to Bascom.</p> +<p>Again there was some cheering, in the midst of +which Jonathan Jackson jumped to his feet beside +Hepsey; and facing the room, with his arm through +hers, he shouted:</p> +<p>“Hepsey Burke and me will make up the difference!”</p> +<p>Another cheer went up, and Hepsey’s face flamed +scarlet amid the craning of necks and chaffing laughter—half +puzzled, half understanding.</p> +<p>Sylvester Bascom rose to his feet, and there was +silence. With assumed seriousness he addressed Hepsey, +still standing:</p> +<p>“Mrs. Burke, so that it may be quite in order, do +you endorse Mr. Jackson’s authority to speak for you +in this matter?”</p> +<p>Every eye was turned upon them; but Hepsey +could find not a word, so flabergasted was she by this +sudden move of Jonathan’s. Jonathan himself colored +furiously, but stuck to his guns, and Hepsey’s +arm:</p> +<p>“Well, to tell the truth,” he replied in a jaunty +voice, “Hepsey Burke and me’s goin’ to be married +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_307' name='page_307'></a>307</span> +right now, so I guess we’ll combine our resources, +like.”</p> +<p>This announcement gave the coup de grace to any +further attempt at orderliness, and the room became a +seething chorus of congratulatory greetings aimed at +Hepsey and Jonathan, in the midst of which Sylvester +Bascom slipped out unnoticed.</p> +<hr class='chapter' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/illus-ch24.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 378px; height: 344px;' /><br /> +</div> +<div style='margin: auto; text-align: center; padding-top: 2em; padding-bottom: 1em'> +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_308' name='page_308'></a>308</span> +<a name='CHAPTER_XXIV_OMNIUM_GATHERUM' id='CHAPTER_XXIV_OMNIUM_GATHERUM'></a> +<h2>CHAPTER XXIV</h2> +<h3>OMNIUM GATHERUM</h3> +</div> +<p>When at last the room emptied, and she was +free to do so, Hepsey, accompanied by the +possessive Jonathan, found her way over to +the Maxwells. Before she started to tell them the +results of the meeting she cast a glance of whimsical +affection at her palpitating fiance.</p> +<p>“I’d best let him get it off his chest—then we’ll +get down to business,” she laughed.</p> +<div class='figcenter'> +<a name='linki_8' id='linki_8'></a> +<img src='images/illus-309.jpg' alt='' title='' style='width: 527px; height: 363px;' /><br /> +<p class='caption' style='margin: 0 auto; text-align:center;width: 527px;'> +“HEPSEY BURKE, FOR ALL YOUR MOLASSES AND THE LITTLE BIT OF VINEGAR YOU SAY YOU KEEP BY YOU, ‘THERE ARE NO FLIES ON YOU’ AS NICKEY WOULD PUT IT”<br /> +</p> +</div> +<div><span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_309' name='page_309'></a>309</span></div> +<p>So Jonathan, amid much handshaking and congratulation +told his victorious story—until, when he +seemed to Hepsey to become too triumphant, she +broke in with: “Now that’s enough for you, Mr. +Proudmouth. Let me just say a word or two, will +you? The meetin’ wasn’t called for you and me, and +I want to tell about more important happenin’s.”</p> +<p>When they had heard of all that had been accomplished, +Mrs. Betty got up and put her arms round +Hepsey’s neck and gave her such a hug, and a kiss on +each cheek, that brought the tears to Mrs. Burke’s +eyes. And Donald, moist-eyed in spite of himself, +took her hand in both of his, and expressed his feelings +and relieved the tension at the same time by +saying:</p> +<p>“Hepsey Burke, for all your molasses and the little +bit of vinegar you say you keep by you, ‘there are no +flies on <i>you</i>’ as Nickey would put it.”</p> +<p>At which sally Jonathan slapped his knee, and ejaculated:</p> +<p>“No! there ’aint, by gum! There ’aint no flies on +Hepsey, if I <i>do</i> say it myself.”</p> +<p>At which proprietory speech Hepsey wagged her +head warningly, saying, as they left—“There’s no +downin’ him, these days; I’m sure I don’t know what’s +come over the man.”</p> +<p>On their way home Jonathan was urgent for fixing +the day. +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_310' name='page_310'></a>310</span></p> +<p>“You said you’d marry me right there and then, if +the meetin’ came your way, now you know you did, +Hepsey,” he argued. “So if we say to-morrow––”</p> +<p>But though Hepsey would never go back on a +promise, she protested against too summary an interpretation +of it, and insisted on due time to prepare +herself for her wedding. So a day was set some two +months hence.</p> +<p>Meanwhile, Sylvester Bascom’s truer and pristine +nature blossomed forth in the sunnier atmosphere +around him, and after he had delivered himself of +his feelings to the Maxwells, in a visit which he paid +them next day at their nomadic quarters, he begged +leave to put the rectory in full repair before he handed +it over to the parish, and the Maxwells returned +to it.</p> +<p>And he was better than his word; for, with Hepsey +and Virginia accompanying her, he insisted on +Mrs. Betty taking a trip to the city a few days later +for the purpose of selecting furnishings of various +kinds dear to the hearts of housekeepers—Hepsey +absorbing a share of the time in selecting her “trousseau.”</p> +<p>Meanwhile, in due course the rectory was made a +new place, inside and out, and a few weeks after their +return the transformed house, repainted inside and +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_311' name='page_311'></a>311</span> +out, papered and curtained and charmingly fitted with +new furniture, was again occupied by the Maxwells.</p> +<p>That the interest of the parish should for a while +be concentrated on the doings at the rectory, and diverted +from her own important preparations, was a +blessing to Hepsey—for she continually declared to +Mrs. Betty that, little as she knew Jonathan in his +new manner, she knew herself less!</p> +<p>It was decided that the wedding should be in the +church, and a reception held after the ceremony, for +the bride and bridegroom, at the rectory—and that, in +this way, the whole parish would celebrate, in honor +of the auspicious occasion, and of other happy results +of Hepsey’s parish meeting.</p> +<p>The day before the wedding, while Mrs. Betty and +Virginia were busily occupied at Thunder Cliff and +the rectory, dividing their attentions between the last +touches to Hepsey’s wardrobe, and preparing confections +for the wedding guests, Donald Maxwell was +closeted with Mr. Bascom at Willow Bluff for a considerable +time. It was known that the Senior Warden +was to support his colleague, Jonathan, at the morrow’s +event, and it was presumed that the rector was +prompting him in his duties for the occasion.</p> +<p>The ceremony next day at the church was a center +of fervent and cordial good-will and thanksgiving, as +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_312' name='page_312'></a>312</span> +Jonathan, supported by Sylvester Bascom, took to +wife Hepsey, given away by Mrs. Betty, with Virginia +as a kind of maid of honor, hovering near. It +was well for Donald Maxwell that his memory served +him faithfully in conducting the service, for his eyes +were in misty conflict with his bright smile. Nickey +from the front pew, watched his mother with awestruck +eyes, and with son-like amazement at her self-possessed +carriage under the blaze of so much public +attention.</p> +<p>There followed a procession from the church, and +soon the rectory, house and garden, were alive with +chattering groups, of all sorts and conditions, for the +invitations had been general and public, irrespective +of class or sect, at Hepsey’s special request. There +was a constant line of friends, known and unknown, +filing past bride and bridegroom, with congratulatory +greetings and cordial good wishes. There were +speeches from delegations of various local bodies, and +from local notables of various degrees; and there +were wedding presents, out-vying each other, as it +seemed, in kindly personal significance rather than in +costliness. Among them all, and arranged by Mrs. +Betty at the very center, the Vestry’s gift to the bride +stood easily first: a plated ice-water pitcher!</p> +<p>It was left to Maxwell to make the farewell speech, +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_313' name='page_313'></a>313</span> +as the company crowded round the automobile, lent +by the Bascoms, in which Hepsey and Jonathan sat in +smiling happiness, ready to drive to the station, on +their way for a week’s honeymoon.</p> +<p>“Friends!” he said, in a voice that reached to the +skirts of the assembled throng, “before we give a valedictory +‘three times three’ to the happy couple, I +have to tell you of a plan that has been made to commemorate +this day permanently—and so that Mrs. +Jackson may not forget the place she holds in our +hearts, and always will hold, as Hepsey Burke.</p> +<p>“It is Mr. Bascom’s idea, and I know it will give +lasting pleasure to Mrs. Burke—I mean Mrs. Jackson,” +he corrected, laughing, “as well as to all Durford, +young and old. The beautiful piece of woodland, +half a mile beyond Willow Bluff, is to-day presented +by Mr. Bascom to the town, and we shall shortly +repair there to watch the boys erect the tent now +on the church plot, and which Mr. Jackson has kindly +presented to the Boy Scouts.”</p> +<p>“Gee,” yelled Nickey, in astounded delight, and +leading a cheer that interrupted the speaker for some +moments.</p> +<p>Maxwell continued: “Mr. Bascom’s generous gift +to the town will be kept in order by the Boy Scouts, +as their permanent camping-ground—and I daresay +<span class='pagenum pncolor'><a id='page_314' name='page_314'></a>314</span> +Nickey Burke will not be averse to occupying the tent +with his corps, during the week or so that Mrs. Jackson +is to be away. The place is to be called in her +honor—‘Hepsey Burke Park.’ And now—Three +cheers for the bride and groom.”</p> +<p>The cheers were given with whole-hearted fervor, +as the man at the wheel tooted, and the auto started +on its way with the smiling pair, followed by the people’s +delighted shouts of approbation at the happy +plan for perpetuating among them the cheerful name +of Hepsey Burke.</p> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/ad1.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/ad2.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/ad3.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> +<hr class='pb' /> +<div class='figcenter'> +<img src='images/ad4.png' alt='' title='' style='' /><br /> +</div> + +<p> </p> +<p> </p> +<hr class="full" /> +<p>***END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HEPSEY BURKE***</p> +<p>******* This file should be named 28517-h.txt or 28517-h.zip *******</p> +<p>This and all associated files of various formats will be found in:<br /> +<a href="http://www.gutenberg.org/dirs/2/8/5/1/28517">http://www.gutenberg.org/2/8/5/1/28517</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. 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