diff options
Diffstat (limited to '349-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | 349-0.txt | 16319 |
1 files changed, 16319 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/349-0.txt b/349-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..0474be4 --- /dev/null +++ b/349-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,16319 @@ +The Project Gutenberg eBook of The Harvester, by Gene Stratton-Porter + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at +www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you +will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before +using this eBook. + +Title: The Harvester + +Author: Gene Stratton-Porter + +Release Date: October, 1995 [eBook #349] +[Most recently updated: March 17, 2023] + +Language: English + +Produced by: Charles Keller and David Widger + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVESTER *** + + + + +THE HARVESTER + +By Gene Stratton-Porter + + +Author Of A Girl Of The Limberlost, Freckles, Etc. + + + + THIS PORTION + OF THE LIFE OF A MAN OF TO-DAY + IS OFFERED IN THE HOPE THAT IN CLEANLINESS, + POETIC TEMPERMENT, AND MENTAL FORCE, + A LIKENESS WILL BE SEEN + TO + HENRY DAVID THOREAU + + + + +CHAPTER + + I. Belshazzar's Decision + II. The Effect of a Dream + III. Harvesting the Forest + IV. A Commission for the South Wind + V. When the Harvester Made Good + VI. To Labour and to Wait + VII. The Quest of the Dream Girl + VIII. Belshazzar's Record Point + IX. The Harvester Goes Courting + X. The Chime of the Blue Bells + XI. Demonstrated Courtship + XII. ''The Way of a Man with a Maid'' + XIII. When the Dream Came True + XIV. Snowy Wings + XV. The Harvester Interprets Life + XVI. Granny Moreland's Visit + XVII. Love Invades Science + XVIII. The Better Man + XIX. A Vertical Spine + XX. The Man in the Background + XXI. The Coming of the Bluebird + + +CHARACTERS + + DAVID LANGSTON, A Harvester of the Woods. + RUTH JAMESON, A Girl of the City. + GRANNY MORELAND, An Interested Neighbour. + DR. CAREY, Chief Surgeon of the Onabasha Hospital. + MRS. CAREY, Wife of the Doctor. + DR. HARMON, Who Concludes to Leave the City. + MOLLY BARNET, A Hospital Nurse with a Heart. + HENRY JAMESON, A Trader Without a Heart. + ALEXANDER HERRON, Who Made a Concession. + MRS. HERRON, A Gentle Woman. + THE KENNEDYS, Philadelphia Lawyers. + + + + +THE HARVESTER + + + +CHAPTER I. BELSHAZZAR'S DECISION + +“Bel, come here!” The Harvester sat in the hollow worn in the hewed log +stoop by the feet of his father and mother and his own sturdier tread, +and rested his head against the casing of the cabin door when he gave +the command. The tip of the dog's nose touched the gravel between his +paws as he crouched flat on earth, with beautiful eyes steadily watching +the master, but he did not move a muscle. + +“Bel, come here!” + +Twinkles flashed in the eyes of the man when he repeated the order, +while his voice grew more imperative as he stretched a lean, wiry +hand toward the dog. The animal's eyes gleamed and his sensitive nose +quivered, yet he lay quietly. + +“Belshazzar, kommen Sie hier!” + +The body of the dog arose on straightened legs and his muzzle dropped +in the outstretched palm. A wind slightly perfumed with the odour of +melting snow and unsheathing buds swept the lake beside them, and lifted +a waving tangle of light hair on the brow of the man, while a level ray +of the setting sun flashed across the water and illumined the graven, +sensitive face, now alive with keen interest in the game being played. + +“Bel, dost remember the day?” inquired the Harvester. + +The eager attitude and anxious eyes of the dog betrayed that he did not, +but was waiting with every sense alert for a familiar word that would +tell him what was expected. + +“Surely you heard the killdeers crying in the night,” prompted the man. +“I called your attention when the ecstasy of the first bluebird waked +the dawn. All day you have seen the gold-yellow and blood-red osiers, +the sap-wet maples and spring tracing announcements of her arrival on +the sunny side of the levee.” + +The dog found no clew, but he recognized tones he loved in the suave, +easy voice, and his tail beat his sides in vigorous approval. The man +nodded gravely. + +“Ah, so! Then you realize this day to be the most important of all the +coming year to me; this hour a solemn one that influences my whole after +life. It is time for your annual decision on my fate for a twelve-month. +Are you sure you are fully alive to the gravity of the situation, Bel?” + +The dog felt himself safe in answering a rising inflection ending in his +name uttered in that tone, and wagged eager assent. + +“Well then,” said the man, “which shall it be? Do I leave home for the +noise and grime of the city, open an office and enter the money-making +scramble?” + +Every word was strange to the dog, almost breathlessly waiting for a +familiar syllable. The man gazed steadily into the animal's eyes. After +a long pause he continued: + +“Or do I remain at home to harvest the golden seal, mullein, and +ginseng, not to mention an occasional hour with the black bass or tramps +for partridge and cotton-tails?” + +The dog recognized each word of that. Before the voice ceased, his sleek +sides were quivering, his nostrils twitching, his tail lashing, and at +the pause he leaped up and thrust his nose against the face of the man. +The Harvester leaned back laughing in deep, full-chested tones; then he +patted the dog's head with one hand and renewed his grip with the other. + +“Good old Bel!” he cried exultantly. “Six years you have decided for me, +and right----every time! We are of the woods, Bel, born and reared +here as our fathers before us. What would we of the camp fire, the long +trail, the earthy search, we harvesters of herbs the famous chemists +require, what would we do in a city? And when the sap is rising, the +bass splashing, and the wild geese honking in the night! We never could +endure it, Bel. + +“When we delivered that hemlock at the hospital to-day, did you hear +that young doctor talking about his 'lid'? Well up there is ours, old +fellow! Just sky and clouds overhead for us, forest wind in our faces, +wild perfume in our nostrils, muck on our feet, that's the life for us. +Our blood was tainted to begin with, and we've lived here so long it +is now a passion in our hearts. If ever you sentence us to life in the +city, you'll finish both of us, that's what you'll do! But you won't, +will you? You realize what God made us for and what He made for us, +don't you, Bel?” + +As he lovingly patted the dog's head the man talked and the animal +trembled with delight. Then the voice of the Harvester changed and +dropped to tones of gravest import. + +“Now how about that other matter, Bel? You always decide that too. The +time has come again. Steady now! This is far more important than the +other. Just to be wiped out, Bel, pouf! That isn't anything and it +concerns no one save ourselves. But to bring misery into our lives +and live with it daily, that would be a condition to rend the soul. So +careful, Bel! Cautious now!” + +The voice of the man dropped to a whisper as he asked the question. + +“What about the girl business?” + +Trembling with eagerness to do the thing that would bring more +caressing, bewildered by unfamiliar words and tones, the dog hesitated. + +“Do I go on as I have ever since mother left me, rustling for grub, +living in untrammelled freedom? Do I go on as before, Bel?” + +The Harvester paused and waited the answer, with anxiety in his eyes +as he searched the beast face. He had talked to that dog, as most +men commune with their souls, for so long and played the game in such +intense earnest that he felt the results final with him. The animal was +immovable now, lost again, his anxious eyes watching the face of the +master, his eager ears waiting for words he recognized. After a long +time the man continued slowly and hesitantly, as if fearing the outcome. +He did not realize that there was sufficient anxiety in his voice to +change its tones. + +“Or do I go courting this year? Do I rig up in uncomfortable +store-clothes, and parade before the country and city girls and try to +persuade the one I can get, probably----not the one I would want----to +marry me, and come here and spoil all our good times? Do we want a +woman around scolding if we are away from home, whining because she is +lonesome, fretting for luxuries we cannot afford to give her? Are you +going to let us in for a scrape like that, Bel?” + +The bewildered dog could bear the unusual scene no longer. Taking the +rising inflection, that sounded more familiar, for a cue, and his name +for a certainty, he sprang forward, his tail waving as his nose touched +the face of the Harvester. Then he shot across the driveway and lay in +the spice thicket, half the ribs of one side aching, as he howled from +the lowest depths of dog misery. + +“You ungrateful cur!” cried the Harvester. “What has come over you? Six +years I have trusted you, and the answer has been right, every time! +Confound your picture! Sentence me to tackle the girl proposition! I +see myself! Do you know what it would mean? For the first thing you'd +be chained, while I pranced over the country like a half-broken colt, +trying to attract some girl. I'd have to waste time I need for my work +and spend money that draws good interest while we sleep, to tempt her +with presents. I'd have to rebuild the cabin and there's not a chance in +ten she would not fret the life out of me whining to go to the city to +live, arrange for her here the best I could. Of all the fool, unreliable +dogs that ever trod a man's tracks, you are the limit! And you never +before failed me! You blame, degenerate pup, you!” + +The Harvester paused for breath and the dog subsided to a pitiful +whimper. He was eager to return to the man who had struck him the first +blow his pampered body ever had received; but he could not understand a +kick and harsh words for him, so he lay quivering with anxiety and fear. + +“You howling, whimpering idiot!” exclaimed the Harvester. “Choose a +day like this to spoil! Air to intoxicate a mummy! Roots swelling! Buds +bursting! Harvest close and you'd call me off and put me at work like +that, would you? If I ever had supposed lost all your senses, I never +would have asked you. Six years you have decided my fate, when the first +bluebird came, and you've been true blue every time. If I ever trust you +again! But the mischief is done now. + +“Have you forgotten that your name means 'to protect?' Don't you +remember it is because of that, it is your name? Protect! I'd have +trusted you with my life, Bell! You gave it to me the time you pointed +that rattler within six inches of my fingers in the blood-root bed. +You saw the falling limb in time to warn me. You always know where the +quicksands lie. But you are protecting me now, like sin, ain't you? +Bring a girl here to spoil both our lives! Not if I know myself! +Protect!” + +The man arose and going inside the cabin closed the door. After that the +dog lay in abject misery so deep that two big tears squeezed from his +eyes and rolled down his face. To be shut out was worse than the blow. +He did not take the trouble to arise from the wet leaves covering the +cold earth, but closing his eyes went to sleep. + +The man leaned against the door and ran his fingers through his hair as +he anathematized the dog. Slowly his eyes travelled around the room. He +saw his tumbled bed by the open window facing the lake, the small +table with his writing material, the crude rack on the wall loaded +with medical works, botanies, drug encyclopaedias, the books of the few +authors who interested him, and the bare, muck-tracked floor. He went +to the kitchen, where he built a fire in the cook stove, and to the +smoke-house, from which he returned with a slice of ham and some eggs. +He set some potatoes boiling and took bread, butter and milk from the +pantry. Then he laid a small note-book on the table before him and +studied the transactions of the day. + + 10 lbs. wild cherry bark 6 cents $.60 + 5 “ wahoo root bark 25 “ 1.25 + 20 “ witch hazel bark 5 “ 1.00 + 5 “ blue flag root 12 “ .60 + 10 “ snake root 18 “ 1.80 + 10 “ blood root 12 “ 1.20 + 15 “ hoarhound 10 “ 1.50 + ----- + $7.95 + + +“Not so bad,” he muttered, bending over the figures. “I wonder if any +of my neighbours who harvest the fields average as well at this season. +I'll wager they don't. That's pretty fair! Some days I don't make it, +and then when a consignment of seeds go or ginseng is wanted the cash +comes in right properly. I could waste half of it on a girl and yet save +money. But where is the woman who would be content with half? She'd want +all and fret because there wasn't more. Blame that dog!” + +He put the book in his pocket, prepared and ate his supper, heaped a +plate generously, placed it on the floor beneath the table, and set away +the food that remained. + +“Not that you deserve it,” he said to space. “You get this in honour +of your distinguished name and the faithfulness with which you formerly +have lived up to its import. If you hadn't been a dog with more sense +than some men, I wouldn't take your going back on me now so hard. One +would think an animal of your intelligence might realize that you would +get as much of a dose as I. Would she permit you to eat from a plate on +the kitchen floor? Not on your life, Belshazzar! Frozen scraps around +the door for you! Would she allow you to sleep across the foot of the +bed? Ho, ho, ho! Would she have you tracking on her floor? It would be +the barn, and growling you didn't do at that. If I'd serve you right, +I'd give you a dose and allow you to see how you like it. But it's +cutting off my nose to spite my face, as the old adage goes, for +whatever she did to a dog, she'd probably do worse to a man. I think +not!” + +He entered the front room and stood before a long shelf on which were +arranged an array of partially completed candlesticks carved from wood. +There were black and white walnut, red, white, and golden oak, cherry +and curly maple, all in original designs. Some of them were oddities, +others were failures, but most of them were unusually successful. He +selected one of black walnut, carved until the outline of his pattern +was barely distinguishable. He was imitating the trunk of a tree with +the bark on, the spreading, fern-covered roots widening for the base, +from which a vine sprang. Near the top was the crude outline of a big +night moth climbing toward the light. He stood turning this stick with +loving hands and holding it from him for inspection. + +“I am going to master you!” he exulted. “Your lines are right. The +design balances and it's graceful. If I have any trouble it will be with +the moth, and I think I can manage. I've got to decide whether to use +cecropia or polyphemus before long. Really, on a walnut, and in +the woods, it should be a luna, according to the eternal fitness of +things----but I'm afraid of the trailers. They turn over and half curl +and I believe I had better not tackle them for a start. I'll use the +easiest to begin on, and if I succeed I'll duplicate the pattern and try +a luna then. The beauties!” + +The Harvester selected a knife from the box and began carving the stick +slowly and carefully. His brain was busy, for presently he glanced at +the floor. + +“She'd object to that!” he said emphatically. “A man could no more sit +and work where he pleased than he could fly. At least I know mother +never would have it, and she was no nagger, either. What a mother she +was! If one only could stop the lonely feeling that will creep in, and +the aching hunger born with the body, for a mate; if a fellow only +could stop it with a woman like mother! How she revelled in sunshine and +beauty! How she loved earth and air! How she went straight to the marrow +of the finest line in the best book I could bring from the library! How +clean and true she was and how unyielding! I can hear her now, holding +me with her last breath to my promise. If I could marry a girl like +mother----great Caesar! You'd see me buying an automobile to make the +run to the county clerk. Wouldn't that be great! Think of coming in from +a long, difficult day, to find a hot supper, and a girl such as she must +have been, waiting for me! Bel, if I thought there was a woman similar +to her in all the world, and I had even the ghost of a chance to win +her, I'd call you in and forgive you. But I know the girls of to-day. I +pass them on the roads, on the streets, see them in the cafe's, stores, +and at the library. Why even the nurses at the hospital, for all the +gravity of their positions, are a giggling, silly lot; and they never +know that the only time they look and act presentably to me is when they +stop their chatter, put on their uniforms, and go to work. Some of them +are pretty, then. There's a little blue-eyed one, but all she needs is +feathers to make her a 'ha! ha! bird.' Drat that dog!” + +The Harvester took the candlestick and the box of knives, opened the +door, and returned to the stoop. Belshazzar arose, pleading in his eyes, +and cautiously advanced a few steps. The man bent over his work and paid +not the slightest heed, so the discouraged dog sank to earth and fixedly +watched the unresponsive master. The carving of the candlestick went +on steadily. Occasionally the Harvester lifted his head and repeatedly +sucked his lungs full of air. Sometimes for an instant he scanned the +surface of the lake for signs of breaking fish or splash of migrant +water bird. Again his gaze wandered up the steep hill, crowned with +giant trees, whose swelling buds he could see and smell. Straight before +him lay a low marsh, through which the little creek that gurgled and +tumbled down hill curved, crossed the drive some distance below, and +entered the lake of Lost Loons. + +While the trees were bare, and when the air was clear as now, he could +see the spires of Onabasha, five miles away, intervening cultivated +fields, stretches of wood, the long black line of the railway, and +the swampy bottom lands gradually rising to the culmination of the +tree-crowned summit above him. His cocks were crowing warlike challenges +to rivals on neighbouring farms. His hens were carolling their spring +egg-song. In the barn yard ganders were screaming stridently. Over the +lake and the cabin, with clapping snowy wings, his white doves circled +in a last joy-flight before seeking their cotes in the stable loft. As +the light grew fainter, the Harvester worked slower. Often he leaned +against the casing, and closed his eyes to rest them. Sometimes he +whistled snatches of old songs to which his mother had cradled him, and +again bits of opera and popular music he had heard on the streets of +Onabasha. As he worked, the sun went down and a half moon appeared above +the wood across the lake. Once it seemed as if it were a silver bowl set +on the branch of a giant oak; higher, it rested a tilted crescent on the +rim of a cloud. + +The dog waited until he could endure it no longer, and straightening +from his crouching position, he took a few velvet steps forward, making +faint, whining sounds in his throat. When the man neither turned his +head nor gave him a glance, Belshazzar sank to earth again, satisfied +for the moment with being a little closer. Across Loon Lake came the +wavering voice of a night love song. The Harvester remembered that as a +boy he had shrunk from those notes until his mother explained that they +were made by a little brown owl asking for a mate to come and live +in his hollow tree. Now he rather liked the sound. It was eloquent of +earnest pleading. With the lonely bird on one side, and the reproachful +dog eyes on the other, the man grinned rather foolishly. + +Between two fires, he thought. If that dog ever catches my eye he will +come tearing as a cyclone, and I would not kick him again for a hundred +dollars. First time I ever struck him, and didn't intend to then. So +blame mad and disappointed my foot just shot out before I knew it. There +he lies half dead to make up, but I'm blest if I forgive him in a hurry. +And there is that insane little owl screeching for a mate. If I'd start +out making sounds like that, all the girls would line up and compete for +possession of my happy home. + +The Harvester laughed and at the sound Belshazzar took courage and +advanced five steps before he sank belly to earth again. The owl +continued its song. The Harvester imitated the cry and at once it +responded. He called again and leaned back waiting. The notes came +closer. The Harvester cried once more and peered across the lake, +watching for the shadow of silent wings. The moon was high above the +trees now, the knife dropped in the box, the long fingers closed around +the stick, the head rested against the casing, and the man intoned +the cry with all his skill, and then watched and waited. He had been +straining his eyes over the carving until they were tired, and when +he watched for the bird the moonlight tried them; for it touched the +lightly rippling waves of the lake in a line of yellow light that +stretched straight across the water from the opposite bank, directly to +the gravel bed below, where lay the bathing pool. It made a path of gold +that wavered and shimmered as the water moved gently, but it appeared +sufficiently material to resemble a bridge spanning the lake. + +“Seems as if I could walk it,” muttered the Harvester. + +The owl cried again and the man intently watched the opposite bank. He +could not see the bird, but in the deep wood where he thought it might +be he began to discern a misty, moving shimmer of white. Marvelling, he +watched closer. So slowly he could not detect motion it advanced, rising +in height and taking shape. + +“Do I end this day by seeing a ghost?” he queried. + +He gazed intently and saw that a white figure really moved in the woods +of the opposite bank. + +“Must be some boys playing fool pranks!” exclaimed the Harvester. + +He watched fixedly with interested face, and then amazement wiped +out all other expression and he sat motionless, breathless, looking, +intently looking. For the white object came straight toward the water +and at the very edge unhesitatingly stepped upon the bridge of gold and +lightly, easily advanced in his direction. The man waited. On came +the figure and as it drew closer he could see that it was a very tall, +extremely slender woman, wrapped in soft robes of white. She stepped +along the slender line of the gold bridge with grace unequalled. + +From the water arose a shining mist, and behind the advancing figure +a wall of light outlined and rimmed her in a setting of gold. As she +neared the shore the Harvester's blood began to race in his veins and +his lips parted in wonder. First she was like a slender birch trunk, +then she resembled a wild lily, and soon she was close enough to prove +that she was young and very lovely. Heavy braids of dark hair rested +on her head as a coronet. Her forehead was low and white. Her eyes were +wide-open wells of darkness, her rounded cheeks faintly pink, and her +red lips smiling invitation. Her throat was long, very white, and the +hands that caught up the fleecy robe around her were rose-coloured and +slender. In a panic the Harvester saw that the trailing robe swept the +undulant gold water, but was not wet; the feet that alternately showed +as she advanced were not purple with cold, but warm with a pink glow. + +She was coming straight toward him, wonderful, alluring, lovely beyond +any woman the Harvester ever had seen. Straightway the fountains of +twenty-six years' repression overflowed in the breast of the man and all +his being ran toward her in a wave of desire. On she came, and now her +tender feet were on the white gravel. When he could see clearly she was +even more beautiful than she had appeared at a distance. He opened his +lips, but no sound came. He struggled to rise, but his legs would not +bear his weight. Helpless, he sank against the casing. The girl walked +to his feet, bent, placed a hand on each of his shoulders, and smiled +into his eyes. He could scent the flower-like odour of her body and +wrapping, even her hair. He struggled frantically to speak to her as she +leaned closer, yet closer, and softly but firmly laid lips of pulsing +sweetness on his in a deliberate kiss. + +The Harvester was on his feet now. Belshazzar shrank into the shadows. + +“Come back!” cried the man. “Come back! For the love of mercy, where are +you?” + +He ran stumblingly toward the lake. The bridge of gold was there, the +little owl cried lonesomely; and did he see or did he only dream he saw +a mist of white vanishing in the opposite wood? + +His breath came between dry lips, and he circled the cabin searching +eagerly, but he could find nothing, hear nothing, save the dog at his +heels. He hurried to the stoop and stood gazing at the molten path of +moonlight. One minute he was half frozen, the next a rosy glow enfolded +him. Slowly he lifted a hand and touched his lips. Then he raised his +eyes from the water and swept the sky in a penetrant gaze. + +“My gracious Heavenly Father,” said the Harvester reverently. “Would it +be like that?” + + + +CHAPTER II. THE EFFECT OF A DREAM + +Fully convinced at last that he had been dreaming, the Harvester picked +up his knives and candlestick and entered the cabin. He placed them on a +shelf and turned away, but after a second's hesitation he closed the +box and arranged the sticks neatly. Then he set the room in order and +carefully swept the floor. As he replaced the broom he thought for an +instant, then opened the door and whistled softly. Belshazzar came at a +rush. The Harvester pushed the plate of food toward the hungry dog and +he ate greedily. The man returned to the front room and closed the door. + +He stood a long time before his shelf of books, at last selected a +volume of “Medicinal Plants” and settled to study. His supper finished, +Belshazzar came scratching and whining at the door. Several times the +man lifted his head and glanced in that direction, but he only returned +to his book and read again. Tired and sleepy, at last, he placed the +volume on the shelf, went to a closet for a pair of bath towels, and +hung them across a chair. Then he undressed, opened the door, and ran +for the lake. He plunged with a splash and swam vigorously for a few +minutes, his white body growing pink under the sting of the chilled +water. Over and over he scanned the golden bridge to the moon, and stood +an instant dripping on the gravel of the landing to make sure that no +dream woman was crossing the wavering floor! He rubbed to a glow and +turned back the covers of his bed. The door and window stood wide. +Before he lay down, the Harvester paused in arrested motion a second, +then stepped to the kitchen door and lifted the latch. + +As the man drew the covers over him, the dog's nose began making +an opening, and a little later he quietly walked into the room. The +Harvester rested, facing the lake. The dog sniffed at his shoulder, but +the man was rigid. Then the click of nails could be heard on the floor +as Belshazzar went to the opposite side. At his accustomed place he +paused and set one foot on the bed. There was not a sound, so he lifted +the other. Then one at a time he drew up his hind feet and crouched +as he had on the gravel. The man lay watching the bright bridge. The +moonlight entered the window and flooded the room. The strong lines on +the weather-beaten face of the Harvester were mellowed in the light, and +he appeared young and good to see. His lithe figure stretched the length +of the bed, his hair appeared almost white, and his face, touched by the +glorifying light of the moon, was a study. + +One instant his countenance was swept with ultimate scorn; then +gradually that would fade and the lines soften, until his lips curved in +child-like appeal and his eyes were filled with pleading. Several +times he lifted a hand and gently touched his lips, as if a kiss were a +material thing and would leave tangible evidence of having been given. +After a long time his eyes closed and he scarcely was unconscious before +Belshazzar's cold nose touched the outstretched hand and the Harvester +lifted and laid it on the dog's head. + +“Forgive me, Bel,” he muttered. “I never did that. I wouldn't have hurt +you for anything. It happened before I had time to think.” + +They both fell asleep. The clear-cut lines of manly strength on the face +of the Harvester were touched to tender beauty. He lay smiling softly. +Far in the night he realized the frost-chill and divided the coverlet +with the happy Belshazzar. + +The golden dream never came again. There was no need. It had done its +perfect work. The Harvester awoke the next morning a different man. His +face was youthful and alive with alert anticipation. He began his work +with eager impetuosity, whistling and singing the while, and he found +time to play with and talk to Belshazzar, until that glad beast almost +wagged off his tail in delight. They breakfasted together and arranged +the rooms with unusual care. + +“You see,” explained the Harvester to the dog, “we must walk neatly +after this. Maybe there is such a thing as fate. Possibly your answer +was right. There might be a girl in the world for me. I don't expect it, +but there is a possibility that she may find us before we locate +her. Anyway, we should work and be ready. All the old stock in the +store-house goes out as soon as we can cart it. A new cabin shall rise +as fast as we can build it. There must be a basement and furnace, too. +Dream women don't have cold feet, but if there is a girl living like +that, and she is coming to us or waiting for us to come to her, we must +have a comfortable home to offer. There should be a bathroom, too. She +couldn't dip in the lake as we do. And until we build the new house we +must keep the old one clean, just on the chance of her happening on us. +She might be visiting some of the neighbours or come from town with some +one or I might see her on the street or at the library or hospital or in +some of the stores. For the love of mercy, help me watch for her, Bel! +The half of my kingdom if you will point her for me!” + +The Harvester worked as he talked. He set the rooms in order, put away +the remains of breakfast, and started to the stable. He turned back and +stood for a long time, scanning the face in the kitchen mirror. Once he +went to the door, then he hesitated, and finally took out his shaving +set and used it carefully and washed vigorously. He pulled his shirt +together at the throat, and hunting among his clothing, found an old +red tie that he knotted around his neck. This so changed his every-day +appearance that he felt wonderfully dressed and whistled gaily on his +way to the barn. There he confided in the old gray mare as he curried +and harnessed her to the spring wagon. + +“Hardly know me, do you, Betsy?” he inquired. “Well, I'll explain. Our +friend Bel, here, has doomed me to go courting this year. Wouldn't that +durnfound you? I was mad as hornets at first, but since I've slept on +the idea, I rather like it. Maybe we are too lonely and dull. Perhaps +the right woman would make life a very different matter. Last night +I saw her, Betsy, and between us, I can't tell even you. She was the +loveliest, sweetest girl on earth, and that is all I can say. We are +going to watch for her to-day, and every trip we make, until we find +her, if it requires a hundred years. Then some glad time we are going to +locate her, and when we do, well, you just keep your eye on us, Betsy, +and you'll see how courting straight from the heart is done, even if we +lack experience.” + +Intoxicated with new and delightful sensations his tongue worked faster +than his hands. + +“I don't mind telling you, old faithful, that I am in love this +morning,” he said. “In love heels over, Betsy, for the first time in all +my life. If any man ever was a bigger fool than I am to-day, it would +comfort me to know about it. I am acting like an idiot, Betsy. I know +that, but I wish you could understand how I feel. Power! I am the +head-waters of Niagara! I could pluck down the stars and set them in +different places! I could twist the tail from the comet! I could twirl +the globe on my palm and topple mountains and wipe lakes from the +surface! I am a live man, Betsy. Existence is over. So don't you go at +any tricks or I might pull off your head. Betsy, if you see the tallest +girl you ever saw, and she wears a dark diadem, and has big black eyes +and a face so lovely it blinds you, why you have seen Her, and you balk, +right on the spot, and stand like the rock of Gibraltar, until you +make me see her, too. As if I wouldn't know she was coming a mile away! +There's more I could tell you, but that is my secret, and it's too +precious to talk about, even to my best friends. Bel, bring Betsy to the +store-room.” + +The Harvester tossed the hitching strap to the dog and walked down the +driveway to a low structure built on the embankment beside the lake. +One end of it was a dry-house of his own construction. Here, by an +arrangement of hot water pipes, he evaporated many of the barks, roots, +seeds, and leaves he grew to supply large concerns engaged in the +manufacture of drugs. By his process crude stock was thoroughly cured, +yet did not lose in weight and colour as when dried in the sun or +outdoor shade. + +So the Harvester was enabled to send his customers big packages of +brightly coloured raw material, and the few cents per pound he asked in +advance of the catalogued prices were paid eagerly. He lived alone, +and never talked of his work; so none of the harvesters of the fields +adjoining dreamed of the extent of his reaping. The idea had been his +own. He had been born in the cabin in which he now lived. His father and +grandfather were old-time hunters of skins and game. They had added to +their earnings by gathering in spring and fall the few medicinal seeds, +leaves, and barks they knew. His mother had been of different type. She +had loved and married the picturesque young hunter, and gone to live +with him on the section of land taken by his father. She found life, +real life, vastly different from her girlhood dreams, but she was one of +those changeless, unyielding women who suffer silently, but never rue a +bargain, no matter how badly they are cheated. Her only joy in life had +been her son. For him she had worked and saved unceasingly, and when he +was old enough she sent him to the city to school and kept pace with him +in the lessons he brought home at night. + +Using what she knew of her husband's work as a guide, and profiting by +pamphlets published by the government, every hour of the time outside +school and in summer vacations she worked in the woods with the boy, +gathering herbs and roots to pay for his education and clothing. So +the son passed the full high-school course, and then, selecting such +branches as interested him, continued his studies alone. + +From books and drug pamphlets he had learned every medicinal plant, +shrub, and tree of his vicinity, and for years roamed far afield and +through the woods collecting. After his father's death expenses grew +heavier and the boy saw that he must earn more money. His mother +frantically opposed his going to the city, so he thought out the plan +of transplanting the stuff he gathered, to the land they owned and +cultivating it there. This work was well developed when he was twenty, +but that year he lost his mother. + +From that time he went on steadily enlarging his species, transplanting +trees, shrubs, vines, and medicinal herbs from such locations as he +found them to similar conditions on his land. Six years he had worked +cultivating these beds, and hunting through the woods on the river +banks, government land, the great Limberlost Swamp, and neglected +corners of earth for barks and roots. He occasionally made long trips +across the country for rapidly diminishing plants he found in the +woodland of men who did not care to bother with a few specimens, +and many big beds of profitable herbs, extinct for miles around, now +flourished on the banks of Loon Lake, in the marsh, and through the +forest rising above. To what extent and value his venture had grown, no +one save the Harvester knew. When his neighbours twitted him with +being too lazy to plow and sow, of “mooning” over books, and derisively +sneered when they spoke of him as the Harvester of the Woods or the +Medicine Man, David Langston smiled and went his way. + +How lonely he had been since the death of his mother he never realized +until that morning when a new idea really had taken possession of him. +From the store-house he heaped packages of seeds, dried leaves, barks, +and roots into the wagon. But he kept a generous supply of each, for he +prided himself on being able to fill all orders that reached him. Yet +the load he took to the city was much larger than usual. As he drove +down the hill and passed the cabin he studied the location. + +“The drainage is perfect,” he said to Belshazzar beside him on the seat. +“So is the situation. We get the cool breezes from the lake in summer +and the hillside warmth in winter. View down the valley can't be +surpassed. We will grub out that thicket in front, move over the +driveway, and build a couple of two-story rooms, with basement for +cellar and furnace, and a bathroom in front of the cabin and use it with +some fixing over for a dining-room and kitchen. Then we will deepen and +widen Singing Water, stick a bushel of bulbs and roots and sow a peck of +flower seeds in the marsh, plant a hedge along the drive, and straighten +the lake shore a little. I can make a beautiful wild-flower garden and +arrange so that with one season's work this will appear very well. We +will express this stuff and then select and fell some trees to-night. +Soon as the frost is out of the ground we will dig our basement and lay +the foundations. The neighbours will help me raise the logs; after that +I can finish the inside work. I've got some dried maple, cherry, +and walnut logs that would work into beautiful furniture. I haven't +forgotten the prices McLean offered me. I can use it as well as he. +Plain way the best things are built now, I believe I could make tables +and couches myself. I can see plans in the magazines at the library. +I'll take a look when I get this off. I feel strong enough to do all of +it in a few days and I am crazy to commence. But I scarcely know where +to begin. There are about fifty things I'd like to do. But to fell and +dry the trees and get the walls up come first, I believe. What do you +think, old unreliable?” + +Belshazzar thought the world was a place of beauty that morning. He +sniffed the icy, odorous air and with tilted head watched the birds. +A wearied band of ducks had settled on Loon Lake to feed and rest, +for there was nothing to disturb them. Signs were numerous everywhere +prohibiting hunters from firing over the Harvester's land. Beside +the lake, down the valley, crossing the railroad, and in the farther +lowlands, the dog was a nervous quiver, as he constantly scented game +or saw birds he wanted to point. But when they neared the city, he sat +silently watching everything with alert eyes. As they reached the outer +fringe of residences the Harvester spoke to him. + +“Now remember, Bel,” he said. “Point me the tallest girl you ever saw, +with a big braid of dark hair, shining black eyes, and red velvet lips, +sweeter than wild crab apple blossoms. Make a dead set! Don't allow her +to pass us. Heaven is going to begin in Medicine Woods when we find her +and prove to her that there lies her happy home. + +“When we find her,” repeated the Harvester softly and exultantly. “When +we find her!” + +He said it again and again, pronouncing the words with tender +modulations. Because he was chanting it in his soul, in his heart, +in his brain, with his lips, he had a hasty glance for every woman +he passed. Light hair, blue eyes, and short figures got only casual +inspection: but any tall girl with dark hair and eyes endured rather +close scrutiny that morning. He drove to the express office and +delivered his packages and then to the hospital. In the hall the +blue-eyed nurse met him and cried gaily, “Good morning, Medicine Man!” + +“Ugh! I scalp pale-faces!” threatened the Harvester, but the girl was +not afraid and stood before him laughing. She might have gone her way +quite as well. She could not have differed more from the girl of the +newly begun quest. The man merely touched his wide-brimmed hat as he +walked around her and entered the office of the chief surgeon. + +A slender, gray-eyed man with white hair turned from his desk, smiled +warmly, pushed a chair, and reached a welcoming hand. + +“Ah good-morning, David,” he cried. “You bring the very breath of spring +with you. Are you at the maples yet?” + +“Begin to-morrow,” was the answer. “I want to get all my old stock off +hands. Sugar water comes next, and then the giddy sassafras and spring +roots rush me, and after that, harvest begins full force, and all +my land is teeming. This is going to be a big year. Everything is +sufficiently advanced to be worth while. I have decided to enlarge the +buildings.” + +“Store-room too small?” + +“Everything!” said the Harvester comprehensively. “I am crowded +everywhere.” + +The keen gray eyes bent on him searchingly. + +“Ho, ho!” laughed the doctor. “'Crowded everywhere.' I had not heard of +cramped living quarters before. When did you meet her?” + +“Last night,” replied the Harvester. “Her home is already in +construction. I chose seven trees as I drove here that are going to fall +before night.” + +So casual was the tone the doctor was disarmed. + +“I am trying your nerve remedy,” he said. + +Instantly the Harvester tingled with interest. + +“How does it work?” he inquired. + +“Finely! Had a case that presented just the symptoms you mentioned. +High-school girl broken down from trying to lead her classes, lead her +fraternity, lead her parents, lead society----the Lord only knows what +else. Gone all to pieces! Pretty a case of nervous prostration as you +ever saw in a person of fifty. I began on fractional doses with it, and +at last got her where she can rest. It did precisely what you claimed it +would, David.” + +“Good!” cried the Harvester. “Good! I hoped it would be effective. +Thank you for the test. It will give me confidence when I go before the +chemists with it. I've got a couple more compounds I wish you would try +when you have safe cases where you can do no harm.” + +“You are cautious for a young man, son!” + +“The woods do that. You not only discover miracles and marvels in them, +you not only trace evolution and the origin of species, but you get +the greatest lessons taught in all the world ground into you early and +alone----courage, caution, and patience.” + +“Those are the rocks on which men are stranded as a rule. You think you +can breast them, David?” + +The Harvester laughed. + +“Aside from breaking a certain promise mother rooted in the blood and +bones of me, if I am afraid of anything, I don't know it. You don't +often see me going head-long, do you? As to patience! Ten years ago I +began removing every tree, bush, vine, and plant of medicinal value from +the woods around to my land; I set and sowed acres in ginseng, knowing +I must nurse, tend, and cultivate seven years. If my neighbours had +understood what I was attempting, what do you think they would have +said? Cranky and lazy would have become adjectives too mild. Lunatic +would have expressed it better. That's close the general opinion, +anyway. Because I will not fell my trees, and the woods hide the work I +do, it is generally conceded that I spend my time in the sun reading +a book. I do, as often as I have an opportunity. But the point is that +this fall, when I harvest that ginseng bed, I will clear more money than +my stiffest detractor ever saw at one time. I'll wager my bank account +won't compare so unfavourably with the best of them now. I did well +this morning. Yes, I'll admit this much: I am reasonably cautious, I'm +a pattern for patience, and my courage never has failed me yet, anyway. +But I must rap on wood; for that boast is a sign that I probably will +meet my Jonah soon.” + +“David, you are a man after my own heart,” said the doctor. “I love you +more than any other friend I have I wouldn't see a hair of your head +changed for the world. Now I've got to hurry to my operation. Remain as +long as you please if there is anything that interests you; but don't +let the giggling little nurse that always haunts the hall when you come +make any impression. She is not up to your standard.” + +“Don't!” said the Harvester. “I've learned one of the big lessons of +life since last I saw you, Doc. I have no standard. There is just one +woman in all the world for me, and when I find her I will know her, and +I will be happy for even a glance; as for that talk of standards, I will +be only too glad to take her as she is.” + +“David! I supposed what you said about enlarged buildings was nonsense +or applied to store-rooms.” + +“Go to your operation!” + +“David, if you send me in suspense, I may operate on the wrong man. What +has happened?” + +“Nothing!” said the Harvester. “Nothing!” + +“David, it is not like you to evade. What happened?” + +“Nothing! On my word! I merely saw a vision and dreamed a dream.” + +“You! A rank materialist! Saw a vision and dreamed a dream! And you +call it nothing. Worst thing that could happen! Whenever a man of +common-sense goes to seeing things that don't exist, and dreaming +dreams, why look out! What did you see? What did you dream?” + +“You woman!” laughed the Harvester. “Talk about curiosity! I'd have to +be a poet to describe my vision, and the dream was strictly private. +I couldn't tell it, not for any price you could mention. Go to your +operation.” + +The doctor paused on the threshold. + +“You can't fool me,” he said. “I can diagnose you all right. You are +poet enough, but the vision was sacred; and when a man won't tell, it's +always and forever a woman. I know all now I ever will, because I know +you, David. A man with a loose mouth and a low mind drags the women of +his acquaintance through whatever mire he sinks in; but you couldn't +tell, David, not even about a dream woman. Come again soon! You are +my elixir of life, lad! I revel in the atmosphere you bring. Wish me +success now, I am going to a difficult, delicate operation.” + +“I do!” cried the Harvester heartily. “I do! But you can't fail. You +never have and that proves you cannot! Good-bye!” + +Down the street went the Harvester, passing over city pave with his +free, swinging stride, his head high, his face flushed with vivid +outdoor tints, going somewhere to do something worth while, the +impression always left behind him. Men envied his robust appearance and +women looked twice, always twice, and sometimes oftener if there was any +opportunity; but twice at least was the rule. He left a little roll of +bills at the bank and started toward the library. When he entered the +reading room an attendant with an eager smile hastily came toward him. + +“What will you have this morning, Mr. Langston?” she asked in the voice +of one who would render willing service. + +“Not the big books to-day,” laughed the Harvester. “I've only a short +time. I'll glance through the magazines.” + +He selected several from a table and going to a corner settled with them +and for two hours was deeply engrossed. He took an envelope from his +pocket, traced lines, and read intently. He studied the placing of +rooms, the construction of furniture, and all attractive ideas were +noted. When at last he arose the attendant went to replace the magazines +on the table. They had been opened widely, and as she turned the +leaves they naturally fell apart at the plans for houses or articles of +furniture. + +The Harvester slowly went down the street. Before every furniture store +he paused and studied the designs displayed in the windows. Then he +untied Betsy and drove to a lumber mill on the outskirts of the city and +made arrangements to have some freshly felled logs of black walnut +and curly maple sawed into different sizes and put through a course in +drying. + +He drove back to Medicine Woods whistling, singing, and talking to +Belshazzar beside him. He ate a hasty lunch and at three o'clock was in +the forest, blazing and felling slender, straight-trunked oak and ash of +the desired proportions. + + + +CHAPTER III. HARVESTING THE FOREST + + +The forest is never so wonderful as when spring wrestles with winter for +supremacy. While the earth is yet ice bound, while snows occasionally +fly, spring breathes her warmer breath of approach, and all nature +responds. Sunny knolls, embankments, and cleared spaces become bare, +while shadow spots and sheltered nooks remain white. This perfumes the +icy air with a warmer breath of melting snow. The sap rises in the trees +and bushes, sets buds swelling, and they distil a faint, intangible +odour. Deep layers of dead leaves cover the frozen earth, and the sun +shining on them raises a steamy vapour unlike anything else in nature. A +different scent rises from earth where the sun strikes it. Lichen faces +take on the brightest colours they ever wear, and rough, coarse mosses +emerge in rank growth from their cover of snow and add another perfume +to mellowing air. This combination has breathed a strange intoxication +into the breast of mankind in all ages, and bird and animal life prove +by their actions that it makes the same appeal to them. + +Crows caw supremacy from tall trees; flickers, drunk on the wine of +nature, flash their yellow-lined wings and red crowns among trees in a +search for suitable building places; nut-hatches run head foremost down +rough trunks, spying out larvae and early emerging insects; titmice +chatter; the bold, clear whistle of the cardinal sounds never so gaily; +and song sparrows pipe from every wayside shrub and fence post. Coons +and opossums stir in their dens, musk-rat and ground-hog inspect the +weather, while squirrels race along branches and bound from tree to tree +like winged folk. + +All of them could have outlined the holdings of the Harvester almost +as well as any surveyor. They understood where the bang of guns and the +snap of traps menaced life. Best of all, they knew where cracked nuts, +handfuls of wheat, oats, and crumbs were scattered on the ground, and +where suet bones dangled from bushes. Here, too, the last sheaf from the +small wheat field at the foot of the hill was stoutly fixed on a high +pole, so that the grain was free to all feathered visitors. + +When the Harvester hitched Betsy, loaded his spiles and sap buckets +into the wagon, and started to the woods to gather the offering the wet +maples were pouring down their swelling sides, almost his entire family +came to see him. They knew who fed and passed every day among them, and +so were unafraid. + +After the familiarity of a long, cold winter, when it had been easier +to pick up scattered food than to search for it, they became so friendly +with the man, the dog, and the gray horse that they hastily snatched +the food offered at the barn and then followed through the woods. The +Harvester always was particular to wear large pockets, for it was good +company to have living creatures flocking after him, trusting to his +bounty. Ajax, a shimmering wonder of gorgeous feathers, sunned on the +ridge pole of the old log stable, preened, spread his train, and uttered +the peacock cry of defiance, to exercise his voice or to express his +emotions at all times. But at feeding hour he descended to the park and +snatched bites from the biggest turkey cocks and ganders and reigned in +power absolute over ducks, guineas, and chickens. Then he followed to +the barn and tried to frighten crows and jays, and the gentle white +doves under the eaves. + +The Harvester walked through deep leaves and snow covering the road that +only a forester could have distinguished. Over his shoulder he carried +a mattock, and in the wagon were his clippers and an ax. Behind him came +Betsy drawing the sap buckets and big evaporating kettles. Through the +wood ranged Belshazzar, the craziest dog in all creation. He always went +wild at sap time. Here was none of the monotony of trapping for skins +around the lake. This marked the first full day in the woods for +the season. He ranged as he pleased and came for a pat or a look of +confidence when he grew lonely, while the Harvester worked. + +At camp the man unhitched Betsy and tied her to the wagon and for +several hours distributed buckets. Then he hung the kettles and gathered +wood for the fire. At noon he returned to the cabin for lunch and +brought back a load of empty syrup cans, and barrels in which to collect +the sap. While the buckets filled at the dripping trees, he dug roots in +the sassafras thicket to fill orders and supply the demand of Onabasha +for tea. Several times he stopped to cut an especially fine tree. + +“You know I hate to kill you,” he apologized to the first one he felled. +“But it certainly must be legitimate for a man to take enough of his +trees to build a home. And no other house is possible for a creature of +the woods but a cabin, is there? The birds use of the material they find +here; surely I have the right to do the same. Seems as if nothing else +would serve, at least for me. I was born and reared here, I've always +loved you; of course, I can't use anything else for my home.” + +He swung the ax and the chips flew as he worked on a straight half-grown +oak. After a time he paused an instant and rested, and as he did so he +looked speculatively at his work. + +“I wonder where she is to-day,” he said. “I wonder what she is going to +think of a log cabin in the woods. Maybe she has been reared in the +city and is afraid of a forest. She may not like houses made of logs. +Possibly she won't want to marry a Medicine Man. She may dislike the +man, not to mention his occupation. She may think it coarse and common +to work out of doors with your hands, although I'd have to argue there +is a little brain in the combination. I must figure out all these +things. But there is one on the lady: She should have settled these +points before she became quite so familiar. I have that for a foundation +anyway, so I'll go on cutting wood, and the remainder will be up to her +when I find her. When I find her,” repeated the Harvester slowly. “But I +am not going to locate her very soon monkeying around in these woods. I +should be out where people are, looking for her right now.” + +He chopped steadily until the tree crashed over, and then, noticing a +rapidly filling bucket, he struck the ax in the wood and began gathering +sap. When he had made the round, he drove to the camp, filled the +kettles, and lighted the fire. While it started he cut and scraped +sassafras roots, and made clippings of tag alder, spice brush and white +willow into big bundles that were ready to have the bark removed during +the night watch, and then cured in the dry-house. + +He went home at evening to feed the poultry and replenish the +ever-burning fire of the engine and to keep the cabin warm enough that +food would not freeze. With an oilcloth and blankets he returned to camp +and throughout the night tended the buckets and boiling sap, and worked +or dozed by the fire between times. Toward the end of boiling, when the +sap was becoming thick, it had to be watched with especial care so it +would not scorch. But when the kettles were freshly filled the Harvester +sat beside them and carefully split tender twigs of willow and slipped +off the bark ready to be spread on the trays. + +“You are a good tonic,” he mused as he worked, “and you go into some of +the medicine for rheumatism. If she ever has it we will give her some +of you, and then she will be all right again. Strange that I should be +preparing medicinal bark by the sugar camp fire, but I have to make this +hay, not while the sun shines, but when the bark is loose, while the sap +is rising. Wonder who will use this. Depends largely on where I sell it. +Anyway, I hope it will take the pain out of some poor body. Prices so +low now, not worth gathering unless I can kill time on it while waiting +for something else. Never got over seven cents a pound for the best I +ever sold, and it takes a heap of these little quills to make a pound +when they are dry. That's all of you----about twenty-five cents' worth. +But even that is better than doing nothing while I wait, and some one +has to keep the doctors supplied with salicin and tannin, so, if I do, +other folks needn't bother.” + +He arose and poured more sap into the kettles as it boiled away and +replenished the fire. He nibbled a twig when he began on the spice +brush. As he sat on the piled wood, and bent over his work he was +an attractive figure. His face shone with health and was bright with +anticipation. While he split the tender bark and slipped out the wood he +spoke his thoughts slowly: + +“The five cents a pound I'll get for you is even less, but I love the +fragrance and taste. You don't peel so easy as the willow, but I like +to prepare you better, because you will make some miserable little sick +child well or you may cool some one's fevered blood. If ever she has a +fever, I hope she will take medicine made from my bark, because it will +be strong and pure. I've half a notion to set some one else gathering +the stuff and tending the plants and spend my time in the little +laboratory compounding different combinations. I don't see what bigger +thing a man can do than to combine pure, clean, unadulterated roots and +barks into medicines that will cool fevers, stop chills, and purify bad +blood. The doctors may be all right, but what are they going to do if we +men behind the prescription cases don't supply them with unadulterated +drugs. Answer me that, Mr. Sapsucker. Doc says I've done mighty well so +far as I have gone. I can't think of a thing on earth I'd rather do, and +there's money no end in it. I could get too rich for comfort in short +order. I wouldn't be too wealthy to live just the way I do for any +consideration. I don't know about her, though. She is lovely, and +handsome women usually want beautiful clothing, and a quantity of things +that cost no end of money. I may need all I can get, for her. One never +can tell.” + +He arose to stir the sap and pour more from the barrels to the kettles +before he began on the tag alder he had gathered. + +“If it is all the same to you, I'll just keep on chewing spice brush +while I work,” he muttered. “You are entirely too much of an astringent +to suit my taste and you bring a cent less a pound. But you are thicker +and dry heavier, and you grow in any quantity around the lake and on the +marshy places, so I'll make the size of the bundle atone for the price. +If I peel you while I wait on the sap I'm that much ahead. I can spread +you on drying trays in a few seconds and there you are. Howl your head +off, Bel, I don't care what you have found. I wouldn't shoot anything +to-day, unless the cupboard was bare and I was starvation hungry. In +that case I think a man comes first, and I'd kill a squirrel or quail +in season, but blest if I'd butcher a lot or do it often. Vegetables +and bread are better anyway. You peel easier even than the willow. What +jolly whistles father used to make! + +“There was about twenty cents' worth of spice, and I'll easy raise it to +a dollar on this. I'll get a hundred gallons of syrup in the coming two +weeks and it will bring one fifty if I boil and strain it carefully and +can guarantee it contains no hickory bark and brown sugar. And it won't! +Straight for me or not at all. Pure is the word at Medicine Woods; syrup +or drugs it's the same thing. Between times I can fell every tree I'll +need for the new cabin, and average a dollar a day besides on spice, +alder, and willow, and twice that for sassafras for the Onabasha +markets; not to mention the quantities I can dry this year. Aside from +spring tea, they seem to use it for everything. I never yet have had +enough. It goes into half the tonics, anodyne, and stimulants; also soap +and candy. I see where I grow rich in spite of myself, and also where my +harvest is going to spoil before I can garner it, if I don't step +lively and double even more than I am now. Where the cabin is to come +in----well it must come if everything else goes. + +“The roots can wait and I'll dig them next year and get more and larger +pieces. I won't really lose anything, and if she should come before I +am ready to start to find her, why then I'll have her home prepared. +How long before you begin your house, old fire-fly?” he inquired of a +flaming cardinal tilting on a twig. + +He arose to make the round of the sap buckets again, then resumed his +work peeling bark, and so the time passed. In the following ten days he +collected and boiled enough sap to make more syrup than he had expected. +His earliest spring store of medicinal twigs, that were peeled to dry in +quills, were all collected and on the trays; he had digged several wagon +loads of sassafras and felled all the logs of stout, slender oak he +would require for his walls. Choice timber he had been curing for +candlestick material he hauled to the saw-mills to have cut properly, +for the thought of trying his hand at tables and chairs had taken +possession of him. He was sure he could make furniture that would appear +quite as well as the mission pieces he admired on display in the store +windows of the city. To him, chairs and tables made from trees that grew +on land that had belonged for three generations to his ancestors, trees +among which he had grown, played, and worked, trees that were so much +his friends that he carefully explained the situation to them before +using an ax or saw, trees that he had cut, cured, and fashioned into +designs of his own, would make vastly more valuable furnishings in his +home than anything that could be purchased in the city. + +As he drove back and forth he watched constantly for her. He was working +so desperately, planning far ahead, doubling and trebling tasks, trying +to do everything his profession demanded in season, and to prepare +timber and make plans for the new cabin, as well as to start a pair +of candlesticks of marvellous design for her, that night was one +long, unbroken sleep of the thoroughly tired man, but day had become a +delightful dream. + +He fed the chickens to produce eggs for her. He gathered barks and +sluiced roots on the raft in the lake, for her. He grubbed the spice +thicket before the door and moved it into the woods to make space for a +lawn, for her. His eyes were wide open for every woven case and dangling +cocoon of the big night moths that propagated around him, for her. Every +night when he left the woods from one to a dozen cocoons, that he had +detected with remarkable ease while the trees were bare, were stuck +in his hat band. As he arranged them in a cool, dry place he talked to +them. + +“Of course I know you are valuable and there are collectors who would +pay well for you, but I think not. You are the prettiest thing God made +that I ever saw, and those of you that home with me have no price on +your wings. You are much safer here than among the crows and jays of the +woods. I am gathering you to protect you, and to show to her. If I don't +find her by June, you may go scot free. All I want is the best pattern +I can get from some of you for candlestick designs. Of everything in the +whole world a candlestick should be made of wood. It should be carved +by hand, and of all ornamentations on earth the moth that flies to the +night light is the most appropriate. Owls are not so bad. They are of +the night, and they fly to light, too, but they are so old. Nobody I +ever have known used a moth. They missed the best when they neglected +them. I'll make her sticks over an original pattern; I'll twine +nightshade vines, with flowers and berries around them, and put a +trailed luna on one, and what is the next prettiest for the other? I'll +think well before if decide. Maybe she'll come by the time I get to +carving and tell me what she likes. That would beat my taste or guessing +a mile.” + +He carefully arranged the twigs bearing cocoons in a big, wire-covered +box to protect them from the depredations of nibbling mice and the +bolder attacks of the saucy ground squirrels that stored nuts in his +loft and took possession of the attic until their scampering sometimes +awoke him in the night. + +Every trip he made to the city he stopped at the library to examine +plans of buildings and furniture and to make notes. The oak he had +hauled was being hewed into shape by a neighbour who knew how, and every +wagon that carried a log to the city to be dressed at the mill brought +back timber for side walls, joists, and rafters. Night after night he +sat late poring over his plans for the new rooms, above all for her +chamber. With poised pencil he wavered over where to put the closet and +entrance to her bath. He figured on how wide to make her bed and where +it should stand. He remembered her dressing table in placing windows +and a space for a chest of drawers. In fact there was nothing the active +mind of the Harvester did not busy itself with in those days that might +make a woman a comfortable home. Every thought emanated from impulses +evolved in his life in the woods, and each was executed with mighty +tenderness. + +A killdeer sweeping the lake close two o'clock one morning awakened him. +He had planned to close the sugar camp for the season that day, but when +he heard the notes of the loved bird he wondered if that would not be a +good time to stake out the foundations and begin digging. There was yet +ice in the ground, but the hillside was rapidly thawing, and although +the work would be easier later, so eager was the Harvester to have walls +up and a roof over that he decided to commence. + +But when morning came and he and Belshazzar breakfasted and fed Betsy +and the stock, he concluded to return to his first plan and close the +camp. All the sap collected that day went into the vinegar barrel. He +loaded the kettles, buckets, and spiles and stopped at the spice thicket +to cut a bale of twigs as he passed. He carried one load to the wagon +and returned for another. Down wind on swift wing came a bird and +entered the bushes. Motionless the Harvester peered at it. A mourning +dove had returned to him through snow, skifting over cold earth. It +settled on a limb and began dressing its plumage. At that instant a +wavering, “Coo coo a'gh coo,” broke in sobbing notes from the deep wood. +Without paying the slightest heed, the dove finished a wing, ruffled +and settled her feathers, and opened her bill in a human-like yawn. The +Harvester smiled. The notes swelled closer in renewed pleading. The cry +was beyond doubt a courting male and this an indifferent female. +Her beady eyes snapped, her head turned coquettishly, a picture of +self-possession, she hid among the dense twigs of the spice thicket. +Around the outside circled the pleading male. + +With shining eyes the Harvester watched. These were of the things +that made life in the woods most worth while. More insistent grew the +wavering notes of the lover. More indifferent became the beloved. She +was superb in her poise as she amused herself in hiding. A perfect burst +of confused, sobbing notes broke on the air. Then away in the deep wood +a softly-wavering, half-questioning “Coo-ah!” answered them. Amazement +flashed into the eyes of the Harvester, but his face was not nearly so +expressive as that of the bird. She lifted a bewildered head and grew +rigid in an attitude of tense listening. There was a pause. In quicker +measure and crowding notes the male called again. Instantly the soft +“Coo!” wavered in answer. The surprised little hen bird of the thicket +hopped straight up and settled on her perch again, her dark eyes +indignant as she uttered a short “Coo!” The muscles of the Harvester's +chest were beginning to twitch and quiver. More intense grew the notes +of the pleading male. Softly seductive came the reply. The clapping +of his wings could be heard as he flew in search of the charmer. “A'gh +coo!” cried the deserted female as she tilted off the branch and tore +through the thicket in pursuit, with wings hastened by fright at the +ringing laugh of the Harvester. + +“Not so indifferent after all, Bel,” he said to the dog standing in +stiff point beside him. “That was all 'pretend!' But she waited just a +trifle too long. Now she will have to fight it out with a rival. Good +thing if some of the flirtatious women could have seen that. Help them +to learn their own minds sooner.” + +He laughed as he heaped the twigs on top of the wagon and started down +the hill chuckling. Belshazzar followed, leading Betsy straight in the +middle of the road by the hitching strap. A few yards ahead the man +stopped suddenly with lifted hand. The dog and horse stood motionless. +A dove flashed across the road and settled in sight on a limb. Almost +simultaneously another perched beside it, and they locked bills in a +long caress, utterly heedless of a plaintive “Coo” in the deep wood. + +“Settled!” said the Harvester. “Jupiter! I wish my troubles were that +nearly finished! Wish I knew where she is and how to find my way to her +lips! Wonder if she will come when I call her. What if I should +find her, and she would have everything on earth, other lovers, and +indifference worse than Madam Dove's for me. Talk about bitterness! Well +I'd have the dream left anyway. And there are always two sides. There is +just a possibility that she may be poor and overworked, sick and tired, +and wondering why I don't come. Possibly she had a dream, too, and she +wishes I would hurry. Dear Lord!” + +The Harvester began to perspire as he strode down the hill. He scarcely +waited to hang the harness properly. He did not stop to unload the wagon +until night, but went after an ax and a board that he split into pegs. +Then he took a ball of twine, a measuring line, and began laying out his +foundation, when the hard earth would scarcely hold the stakes he drove +into it. When he found he only would waste time in digging he put away +the neatly washed kettles, peeled the spice brush, spread it to dry, and +prepared his dinner. After that he began hauling stone and cement for +his basement floor and foundation walls. Occasionally he helped at +hewing logs when the old man paused to rest. That afternoon the first +robin of the season hailed him in passing. + +“Hello!” cried the Harvester. “You don't mean to tell me that you have +beaten the larks! You really have! Well since I see it, I must believe, +but you are early. Come around to the back door if crumbs or wheat will +do or if you can make out on suet and meat bones! We are good and ready +for you. Where is your mate? For any sake, don't tell me you don't know. +One case of that kind at Medicine Woods is enough. Say you came ahead +to see if it is too cold or to select a home and get ready for her. Say +anything on earth except that you love her, and want her until your body +is one quivering ache, and you don't know where she is.” + + + +CHAPTER IV. A COMMISSION FOR THE SOUTH WIND + +The next morning the larks trailed ecstasy all over the valley, the +following day cuckoos were calling in the thickets, a warm wind swept +from the south and set swollen buds bursting, while the sun shone, +causing the Harvester to rejoice. Betsy's white coat was splashed with +the mud of the valley road; the feet of Belshazzar left tracks over +lumber piles; and the Harvester removed his muck-covered shoes at the +door and wore slippers inside. The skunk cabbage appeared around the +edge of the forest, rank mullein and thistles lay over the fields in +big circles of green, and even plants of delicate growth were thrusting +their heads through mellowing earth and dead leaves, to reach light and +air. + +Then the Harvester took his mattock and began to dig. His level best +fell so far short of what he felt capable of doing and desired to +accomplish that the following day he put two more men on the job. Then +the earth did fly, and so soon as the required space was excavated the +walls were lined with stone and a smooth basement floor was made of +cement. The night the new home stood, a skeleton of joists and rafters, +gleaming whitely on the banks of Loon Lake, the Harvester went to the +bridge crossing Singing Water and slowly came up the driveway to see how +the work appeared. He caught his breath as he advanced. He had intended +to stake out generous rooms, but this, compared with the cabin, seemed +like a big hotel. + +“I hope I haven't made it so large it will be a burden,” he +soliloquized. “It's huge! But while I am at it I want to build big +enough, and I think I have.” + +He stood on the driveway, his arms folded, and looked at the structure +as he occasionally voiced his thoughts. + +“The next thing is to lay up the side walls and get the roof over. Got +to have plenty of help, for those logs are hewed to fourteen inches +square and some of them are forty feet long. That's timber! Grew with +me, too. Personally acquainted with almost every tree of it. We will bed +them in cement, use care with the roof, and if that doesn't make a cool +house in the summer, and a warm one in winter, I'll be disappointed. +It sets among the trees, and on the hillside just right. We must have a +wide porch, plenty of flowers, vines, ferns, and mosses, and when I get +everything finished and she sees it----perhaps it will please her.” + +A great horned owl swept down the hill, crossed the lake, and hooted +from the forest of the opposite bank. The Harvester thought of his dream +and turned. + +“Any women walking the water to-night? Come if you like,” he bantered, +“I don't mind in the least. In fact, I'd rather enjoy it. I'd be so +happy if you would come now and tell me how this appears to you, +for it's all yours. I'd have enlarged the store-room, dry-houses and +laboratory for myself, but this cabin, never! The old one suited me as +it was; but for you----I should have a better home.” + +The Harvester glanced from the shining skeleton to the bridge of gold +and back again. + +“Where are you to-night?” he questioned. “What are you doing? Can't you +give me a hint of where to search for you when this is ready? I don't +know but I am beginning wrong. My little brothers of the wood do +differently. They announce their intentions the first thing, flaunt +their attractions, and display their strength. They say aloud, for all +the listening world to hear, what is in their hearts. They chip, chirp, +and sing, warble, whistle, thrill, scream, and hoot it. They are strong +on self-expression, and appreciative of their appearance. They meet, +court, mate, and THEN build their home together after a mutual plan. +It's a good way, too! Lots surer of getting things satisfactory.” + +The Harvester sat on a lumber pile and gazed questioningly at the +framework. + +“I wish I knew if I am going at things right,” he said. “There are two +sides to consider. If she is in a good home, and lovingly cared for, it +would be proper to court her and get her promise, if I could----no I'm +blest if I'll be so modest----get her promise, as I said, and let her +wait while I build the cabin. But if she should be poor, tired, and +neglected, then I ought to have this ready when I find her, so I could +pick her up and bring her to it, with no more ceremony than the birds.” + +The Harvester's clear skin flushed crimson. + +“Of course, I don't mean no wedding ceremony,” he amended. “I was +thinking of a long time wasted in preliminaries when in my soul I know I +am going to marry my Dream Girl before I ever have seen her in reality. +What would be the use in spending much time in courting? She is my wife +now, by every law of God. Let me get a glimpse of her, and I'll prove +it. But I've got to make tracks, for if she were here, where would I put +her? I must hurry!” + +He went to the work room and began polishing a table top. He had bought +a chest of tools and was spending every spare minute on tables, +chair seats, and legs. He had decided to make these first and carve +candlesticks later when he had more time. Two hours he worked at the +furniture, and then went to bed. The following morning he put eggs under +several hens that wanted to set, trimmed his grape-vines, examined the +precious ginseng beds, attended his stock, got breakfast for Belshazzar +and himself, and was ready for work when the first carpenter arrived. +Laying hewed logs went speedily, and before the Harvester believed it +possible the big shingles he had ordered were being nailed on the roof. +Then came the plumber and arranged for the bathroom, and the furnace +man placed the heating pipes. The Harvester had intended the cabin to +be mostly the work of his own hands, but when he saw how rapidly +skilled carpenters worked, he changed his mind and had them finish the +living-room, his room, and the upstairs, and make over the dining-room +and kitchen. + +Her room he worked on alone, with a little help if he did not know how +to join the different parts. Every thing was plain and simple, after +plans of his own, but the Harvester laid floors and made window casings, +seats, and doors of wood that the big factories of Grand Rapids used in +veneering their finest furniture. When one of his carpenters pointed +out this to him, and suggested that he sell his lumber to McLean and use +pine flooring from the mills the Harvester laughed at him. + +“I don't say that I could afford to buy burl maple, walnut, and cherry +for wood-work,” said the Harvester. “I could not, but since I have it, +you can stake your life I won't sell it and build my home of cheap, +rapidly decaying wood. The best I have goes into this cabin and what +remains will do to sell. I have an idea that when this is done it is +going to appear first rate. Anyway, it will be solid enough to last +a thousand years, and with every day of use natural wood grows more +beautiful. When we get some tables, couches, and chairs made from the +same timber as the casings and the floors, I think it will be fine. +I want money, but I don't want it bad enough to part with the BEST of +anything I have for it. Go carefully and neatly there; it will have to +be changed if you don't.” + +So the work progressed rapidly. When the carpenters had finished the +last stroke on the big veranda they remained a day more and made flower +boxes, and a swinging couch, and then the greedy Harvester kept the best +man with him a week longer to help on the furniture. + +“Ain't you going to say a word about her, Langston?” asked this man as +they put a mirror-like surface on a curly maple dressing table top. + +“Her!” ejaculated the Harvester. “What do you mean?” + +“I haven't seen you bathe anywhere except in the lake since I have been +here,” said the carpenter. “Do you want me to think that a porcelain +tub, this big closet, and chest of drawers are for you?” + +A wave of crimson swept over the Harvester. + +“No, they are not for me,” he said simply. “I don't want to be any more +different from other men than I can help, although I know that life in +the woods, the rigid training of my mother, and the reading of only the +books that would aid in my work have made me individual in many of my +thoughts and ways. I suppose most men, just now, would tell you anything +you want to know. There is only one thing I can say: The best of my soul +and brain, the best of my woods and store-house, the best I can buy with +money is not good enough for her. That's all. For myself, I am getting +ready to marry, of course. I think all normal men do and that it is a +matter of plain common-sense that they should. Life with the right woman +must be infinitely broader and better than alone. Are you married?” + +“Yes. Got a wife and four children.” + +“Are you sorry?” + +“Sorry!” the carpenter shrilled the word. “Sorry! Well that's the best +I ever heard! Am I sorry I married Nell and got the kids? Do I look +sorry?” + +“I am not expecting to be, either,” said the Harvester calmly. “I think +I have done fairly well to stick to my work and live alone until I am +twenty-six. I have thought the thing all over and made up my mind. As +soon as I get this house far enough along that I feel I can proceed +alone I am going to rush the marrying business just as fast as I can, +and let her finish the remainder to her liking.” + +“Well this ought to please her.” + +“That's because you find your own work good,” laughed the Harvester. + +“Not altogether!” The carpenter polished the board and stood it on end +to examine the surface as he talked. “Not altogether! Nothing but good +work would suit you. I was thinking of the little creek splashing down +the hill to the lake; and that old log hewer said that in a few more +days things here would be a blaze of colour until fall.” + +“Almost all the drug plants and bushes leaf beautifully and flower +brilliantly,” explained the Harvester. “I studied the location suitable +to each variety before I set the beds and planned how to grow plants +for continuity of bloom, and as much harmony of colour as possible. +Of course a landscape gardener would tear up some of it, but seen as a +whole it isn't so bad. Did you ever notice that in the open, with God's +blue overhead and His green for a background, He can place purple and +yellow, pink, magenta, red, and blue in masses or any combination you +can mention and the brighter the colour the more you like it? You +don't seem to see or feel that any grouping clashes; you revel in each +wonderful growth, and luxuriate in the brilliancy of the whole. Anyway, +this suits me.” + +“I guess it will please her, too,” said the carpenter. “After all the +pains you've taken, she is a good one if it doesn't.” + +“I'll always have the consolation of having done my best,” replied +the Harvester. “One can't do more! Whether she likes it or not depends +greatly on the way she has been reared.” + +“You talk as if you didn't know,” commented the carpenter. + +“You go on with this now,” said the Harvester hastily. “I've got to +uncover some beds and dig my year's supply of skunk cabbage, else folk +with asthma and dropsy who depend on me will be short on relief. I ought +to take my sweet flag, too, but I'm so hurried now I think I'll leave it +until fall; I do when I can, because the bloom is so pretty around the +lake and the bees simply go wild over the pollen. Sometimes I almost +think I can detect it in their honey. Do you know I've wondered often +if the honey my bees make has medicinal properties and should be kept +separate in different seasons. In early spring when the plants and +bushes that furnish the roots and barks of most of the tonics are in +bloom, and the bees gather the pollen, that honey should partake in a +degree of the same properties and be good medicine. In the summer +it should aid digestion, and in the fall cure rheumatism and blood +disorders.” + +“Say you try it!” urged the carpenter. “I want a lot of the fall kind. +I'm always full of rheumatism by October. Exposure, no doubt.” + +“Over eating of too much rich food, you mean,” laughed the Harvester. +“I'd like to see any man expose his body to more differing extremes of +weather than I do, and I'm never sick. It's because I am my own cook +and so I live mostly on fruits, vegetables, bread, milk, and eggs, a few +fish from the lake, a little game once in a great while or a chicken, +and no hot drinks; plenty of fresh water, air, and continuous work out +of doors. That's the prescription! I'd be ashamed to have rheumatism at +your age. There's food in the cupboard if you grow hungry. I am going +past one of the neighbours on my way to see about some work I want her +to do.” + +The Harvester stopped for lunch, carried food to Belshazzar, and started +straight across country, his mattock, with a bag rolled around the +handle, on his shoulder. His feet sank in the damp earth at the foot of +the hill, and he laughed as he leaped across Singing Water. + +“You noisy chatterbox!” cried the man. “The impetus of coming down the +curves of the hill keeps you talking all the way across this muck bed to +the lake. With small work I can make you a thing of beauty. A few bushes +grubbed, a little deepening where you spread too much, and some more +mallows along the banks will do the trick. I must attend to you soon.” + +“Now what does the boy want?” laughed a white-haired old woman, as the +Harvester entered the door. “Mebby you think I don't know what you're +up to! I even can hear the hammering and the voices of the men when the +wind is in the south. I've been wondering how soon you'd need me. Out +with it!” + +“I want you to get a woman and come over and spend a day with me. +I'll come after you and bring you back. I want you to go over mother's +bedding and have what needs it washed. All I want you to do is to +superintend, and tell me now what I will want from town for your work.” + +“I put away all your mother's bedding that you were not using, clean as +a ribbon.” + +“But it has been packed in moth preventives ever since and out only four +times a year to air, as you told me. It must smell musty and be yellow. +I want it fresh and clean.” + +“So what I been hearing is true, David?” + +“Quite true!” said the Harvester. + +“Whose girl is she, and when are you going to jine hands?” + +The Harvester lifted his clear eyes and hesitated. + +“Doc Carey laid you in my arms when you was born, David. I tended you +'fore ever your ma did. All your life you've been my boy, and I love you +same as my own blood; it won't go no farther if you say so. I'll never +tell a living soul. But I'm old and 'til better weather comes, house +bound; and I get mighty lonely. I'd like to think about you and her, and +plan for you, and love her as I always did you folks. Who is she, David? +Do I know the family?” + +“No. She is a stranger to these parts,” said the unhappy Harvester. + +“David, is she a nice girl 'at your ma would have liked?” + +“She's the only girl in the world that I'd marry,” said the Harvester +promptly, glad of a question he could answer heartily. “Yes. She is +gentle, very tender and----and affectionate,” he went on so rapidly that +Granny Moreland could not say a word, “and as soon as I bring her home +you shall come to spend a day and get acquainted. I know you will love +her! I'll come in the morning, then. I must hurry now. I am working +double this spring and I'm off for the skunk cabbage bed to-day.” + +“You are working fit to kill, the neighbours say. Slavin' like a horse +all day, and half the night I see your lights burning.” + +“Do I appear killed?” laughingly inquired the Harvester. + +“You look peart as a struttin' turkey gobbler,” said the old woman. “Go +on with your work! Work don't hurt a-body. Eat a-plenty, sleep all you +ort, and you CAN'T work enough to hurt you.” + +“So the neighbours say I'm working now? New story, isn't it? Usually I'm +too lazy to make a living, if I remember.” + +“Only to those who don't sense your purceedings, David. I always knowed +how you grubbed and slaved an' set over them fearful books o' yours.” + +“More interesting than the wildest fiction,” said the man. “I'm making +some medicine for your rheumatism, Granny. It is not fully tested yet, +but you get ready for it by cutting out all the salt you can. I haven't +time to explain this morning, but you remember what I say, leave out the +salt, and when Doc thinks it's safe I'll bring you something that will +make a new woman of you.” + +He went swinging down the road, and Granny Moreland looked after him. + +“While he was talkin',” she muttered, “I felt full of information as a +flock o' almanacs, but now since he's gone, 'pears to me I don't know a +thing more 'an I did to start on.” + +“Close call,” the Harvester was thinking. “Why the nation did I admit +anything to her? People may talk as they please, so long as I don't +sanction it, but I have two or three times. That's a fool trick. Suppose +I can't find her? Maybe she won't look at me if I can. Then I'd have +started something I couldn't finish. And if anybody thinks I'll end +this by taking any girl I can get, if I can't find Her, why they think +wrongly. Just the girl of my golden dream or no woman at all for me. +I've lived alone long enough to know how to do it in comfort. If I can't +find and win her I have no intention of starting a boarding house.” + +The Harvester began to laugh. “'I'd rather keep bachelor's hall in Hell +than go to board in Heaven!'” he quoted gaily. “That's my sentiment too. +If you can't have what you want, don't have anything. But there is no +use to become discouraged before I start. I haven't begun to hunt her +yet. Until I do, I might as well believe that she will walk across the +bridge and take possession just as soon as I get the last chair leg +polished. She might! She came in the dream, and to come actually +couldn't be any more real. I'll make a stiff hunt of it before I give +up, if I ever do. I never yet have made a complete failure of anything. +But just now I am hunting skunk cabbage. It's precisely the time to take +it.” + +Across the lake, in the swampy woods, close where the screech owl sang +and the girl of the golden dream walked in the moonlight the Harvester +began operations. He unrolled the sack, went to one end of the bed and +systematically started a swath across it, lifting every other plant +by the roots. Flowering time was almost past, but the bees knew where +pollen ripened, and hummed incessantly over and inside the queer +cone-shaped growths with their hooked beaks. It almost appeared as if +the sound made inside might be to give outsiders warning not to poach +on occupied territory, for the Harvester noticed that no bee entered a +pre-empted plant. + +With skilful hand each stroke brought up a root and he tossed it to one +side. The plants were vastly peculiar things. First they seemed to be a +curled leaf with no flower. In colour they shaded from yellow to almost +black mahogany, and appeared as if they were a flower with no leaf. +Closer examination proved there was a stout leaf with a heavy outside +mid-rib, the tip of which curled over in a beak effect, that wrapped +around a peculiar flower of very disagreeable odour. The handling of +these plants by the hundred so intensified this smell the Harvester +shook his head. + +“I presume you are mostly mine,” he said to the busy little workers +around him. “If there is anything in my theory of honey having varying +medicinal properties at different seasons, right now mine should be +good for Granny's rheumatism and for nervous and dropsical people. I +shouldn't think honey flavoured with skunk cabbage would be fit to eat. +But, of course, it isn't all this. There is catkin pollen on the wind, +hazel and sassafras are both in bloom now, and so are several of the +earliest little flowers of the woods. You can gather enough of them +combined to temper the disagreeable odour into a racy sweetness, and all +the shrub blooms are good tonics, too, and some of the earthy ones. I'm +going to try giving some of you empty cases next spring and analyzing +the honey to learn if it isn't good medicine.” + +The Harvester straightened and leaned on the mattock to fill his lungs +with fresh air and as he delightedly sniffed it he commented, “Nothing +else has much of a chance since I've stirred up the cabbage bed. I can +scent the catkins plainly, being so close, and as I came here I could +detect the hazel and sassafras all right.” + +Above him a peculiar, raucous chattering for an instant hushed other +wood voices. The Harvester looked up, laughing gaily. + +“So you've decided to announce it to your tribe at last, have you?” + he inquired. “You are waking the sleepers in their dens to-day? Well, +there's nothing like waiting until you have a sure thing. The bluebirds +broke the trail for the feathered folk the twenty-fourth of February. +The sap oozed from the maples about the same time for the trees. The +very first skunk cabbage was up quite a month ago to signal other plants +to come on, and now you are rousing the furred folk. I'll write this +down in my records----'When the earliest bluebird sings, when the sap +wets the maples, when the skunk cabbage flowers, and the first striped +squirrel barks, why then, it is spring!'” + +He bent to his task and as he worked closer the water he noticed +sweet-flag leaves waving two inches tall beneath the surface. + +“Great day!” he cried. “There you are making signs, too! And right! Of +course! Nature is always right. Just two inches high and it's harvest +for you. I can use a rake, and dried in the evaporator you bring me +ten cents a pound; to the folks needing a tonic you are worth a small +fortune. No doubt you cost that by the time you reach them; but I fear +I can't gather you just now. My head is a little preoccupied these days. +What with the cabbage, and now you, and many of the bushes and trees +making signs, with a new cabin to build and furnish, with a girl to find +and win, I'm what you might call busy. I've covered my book shelf. +I positively don't dare look Emerson or Maeterlinck in the face. One +consolation! I've got the best of Thoreau in my head, and if I read +Stickeen a few times more I'll be able to recite that. There's a man for +you, not to mention the dog! Bel, where are you? Would you stick to me +like that? I think you would. But you are a big, strong fellow. Stickeen +was only such a mite of a dog. But what a man he followed! I feel as +if I should put on high-heeled slippers and carry a fan and a lace +handkerchief when I think of him. And yet, most men wouldn't consider my +job so easy!” + +The Harvester rapidly pitched the evil-smelling plants into big heaps +and as he worked he imitated the sounds around him as closely as he +could. The song sparrow laughed at him and flew away in disgust when he +tried its notes. The jay took time to consider, but was not fooled. The +nut-hatch ran head first down trees, larvae hunting, and was never a +mite deceived. But the killdeer on invisible legs, circling the lake +shore, replied instantly; so did the lark soaring above, and the dove of +the elm thicket close beside. The glittering black birds flashing over +every tree top answered the “T'check, t'chee!” of the Harvester quite as +readily as their mates. + +The last time he paused to rest he had studied scents. When he +straightened again he was occupied with every voice of earth and air +around and above him, and the notes of singing hens, exultant cocks, the +scream of geese, the quack of ducks, the rasping crescendo of guineas +running wild in the woods, the imperial note of Ajax sunning on the +ridge pole and echoes from all of them on adjoining and distant farms. + +“'Now I see the full meaning and beauty of that word sound!'” quoted +the Harvester. “'I thank God for sound. It always mounts and makes me +mount!'” + +He breathed deeply and stood listening, a superb figure of a man, his +lean face glowing with emotion. + +“If she could see and hear this, she would come,” he said softly. “She +would come and she would love it as I do. Any one who understands, +and knows how to translate, cares for this above all else earth has to +offer. They who do not, fail to read as they run!” + +He shifted feet mired in swamp muck, and stood as if loath to bend again +to his task. He lifted a weighted mattock and scraped the earth from +it, sniffing it delightedly the while. A soft south wind freighted with +aromatic odours swept his warm face. The Harvester removed his hat and +shook his head that the breeze might thread his thick hair. + +“I've a commission for you, South Wind,” he said whimsically. “Go find +my Dream Girl. Go carry her this message from me. Freight your breath +with spicy pollen, sun warmth, and flower nectar. Fill all her senses +with delight, and then, close to her ear, whisper it softly, 'Your lover +is coming!' Tell her that, O South Wind! Carry Araby to her nostrils, +Heaven to her ears, and then whisper and whisper it over and over until +you arouse the passion of earth in her blood. Tell her what is rioting +in my heart, and brain, and soul this morning. Repeat it until she must +awake to its meaning, 'Your lover is coming.'” + + + +CHAPTER V. WHEN THE HARVESTER MADE GOOD + +The sassafras and skunk cabbage were harvested. The last workman was +gone. There was not a sound at Medicine Woods save the babel of bird and +animal notes and the never-ending accompaniment of Singing Water. The +geese had gone over, some flocks pausing to rest and feed on Loon Lake, +and ducks that homed there were busy among the reeds and rushes. In +the deep woods the struggle to maintain and reproduce life was at its +height, and the courting songs of gaily coloured birds were drowned by +hawk screams and crow calls of defiance. + +Every night before he plunged into the lake and went to sleep the +Harvester made out a list of the most pressing work that he would +undertake on the coming day. By systematizing and planning ahead he was +able to accomplish an unbelievable amount. The earliest rush of spring +drug gathering was over. He could be more deliberate in collecting the +barks he wanted. Flowers that were to be gathered at bloom time and +leaves were not yet ready. The heavy leaf coverings he had helped +the winds to heap on his beds of lily of the valley, bloodroot, and +sarsaparilla were removed carefully. + +Inside the cabin the Harvester cleaned the glass, swept the floors with +a soft cloth pinned over the broom, and hung pale yellow blinds at the +windows. Every spare minute he worked on making furniture, and with each +piece he grew in experience and ventured on more difficult undertakings. +He had progressed so far that he now allowed himself an hour each day on +the candlesticks for her. Every evening he opened her door and with soft +cloths polished the furniture he had made. When her room was completed +and the dining-room partially finished, the Harvester took time to stain +the cabin and porch roofs the shade of the willow leaves, and on the +logs and pillars he used oil that served to intensify the light yellow +of the natural wood. With that much accomplished he felt better. If she +came now, in a few hours he would be able to offer a comfortable room, +enough conveniences to live until more could be provided, and of food +there was always plenty. + +His daily programme was to feed and water his animals and poultry, +prepare breakfast for himself and Belshazzar, and go to the woods, +dry-house or store-room to do the work most needful in his harvesting. +In the afternoon he laboured over furniture and put finishing touches on +the new cabin, and after supper he carved and found time to read again, +as before his dream. + +He was so happy he whistled and sang at his work much of the time at +first, but later there came days when doubts crept in and all his will +power was required to proceed steadily. As the cabin grew in better +shape for occupancy each day, more pressing became the thought of how he +was going to find and meet the girl of his dream. Sometimes it seemed to +him that the proper way was to remain at home and go on with his work, +trusting her to come to him. At such times he was happy and gaily +whistled and sang: + + “Stay in your chimney corner, + Don't roam the world about, + Stay in your chimney corner, + And your own true love will find you out.” + + +But there were other days while grubbing in the forest, battling with +roots in the muck and mire of the lake bank, staggering under a load +for two men, scarcely taking time to eat and sleep enough to keep his +condition perfect, when that plan seemed too hopeless and senseless to +contemplate. Then he would think of locking the cabin, leaving the drugs +to grow undisturbed by collecting, hiring a neighbour to care for his +living creatures, and starting a search over the world to find her. +There came times when the impulse to go was so strong that only the +desire to take a day more to decide where, kept him. Every time his mind +was made up to start the following day came the counter thought, what +if I should go and she should come in my absence? In the dream she came. +That alone held him, even in the face of the fact that if he left home +some one might know of and rifle the precious ginseng bed, carefully +tended these seven years for the culmination the coming fall would +bring. That ginseng was worth many thousands and he had laboured over +it, fighting worms and parasites, covering and uncovering it with the +changing seasons, a siege of loving labour. + +Sometimes a few hours of misgiving tortured him, but as a rule he was +cheerful and happy in his preparations. Without intending to do it +he was gradually furnishing the cabin. Every few days saw a new piece +finished in the workshop. Each trip to Onabasha ended in the purchase of +some article he could see would harmonize with his colour plans for +one of the rooms. He had filled the flower boxes for the veranda with +delicate plants that were growing luxuriantly. + +Then he designed and began setting a wild-flower garden outside her door +and started climbing vines over the logs and porches, but whatever he +planted he found in the woods or took from beds he cultivated. Many of +the medicinal vines had leaves, flowers, twining tendrils, and berries +or fruits of wonderful beauty. Every trip to the forest he brought back +a half dozen vines, plants, or bushes to set for her. All of them either +bore lovely flowers, berries, quaint seed pods, or nuts, and beside the +drive and before the cabin he used especial care to plant a hedge of +bittersweet vines, burning bush, and trees of mountain ash, so that +the glory of their colour would enliven the winter when days might be +gloomy. + +He planted wild yam under her windows that its queer rattles might amuse +her, and hop trees where their castanets would play gay music with every +passing wind of fall. He started a thicket along the opposite bank of +Singing Water where it bubbled past her window, and in it he placed in +graduated rows every shrub and small tree bearing bright flower, berry, +or fruit. Those remaining he used as a border for the driveway from the +lake, so that from earliest spring her eyes would fall on a procession +of colour beginning with catkins and papaw lilies, and running through +alders, haws, wild crabs, dogwood, plums, and cherry intermingled with +forest saplings and vines bearing scarlet berries in fall and winter. In +the damp soil of the same character from which they were removed, in +the shade and under the skilful hand of the Harvester, few of these +knew they had been transplanted, and when May brought the catbirds and +orioles much of this growth was flowering quite as luxuriantly as the +same species in the woods. + +The Harvester was in the store-house packing boxes for shipment. His +room was so small and orders so numerous that he could not keep large +quantities on hand. All crude stuff that he sent straight from the +drying-house was fresh and brightly coloured. His stock always was +marked prime A-No. 1. There was a step behind him and the Harvester +turned. A boy held out a telegram. The man opened it to find an order +for some stuff to be shipped that day to a large laboratory in Toledo. + +His hands deftly tied packages and he hastily packed bottles and nailed +boxes. Then he ran to harness Betsy and load. As he drove down the hill +to the bridge he looked at his watch and shook his head. + +“What are you good for at a pinch, Betsy?” he asked as he flecked the +surprised mare's flank with a switch. Belshazzar cocked his ears and +gazed at the Harvester in astonishment. + +“That wasn't enough to hurt her,” explained the man. “She must speed up. +This is important business. The amount involved is not so much, but I do +love to make good. It's a part of my religion, Bel. And my religion has +so precious few parts that if I fail in the observance of any of them +it makes a big hole in my performances. Now we don't want to end a life +full of holes, so we must get there with this stuff, not because it's +worth the exertion in dollars and cents, but because these men patronize +us steadily and expect us to fill orders, even by telegraph. Hustle, +Betsy!” + +The whip fell again and Belshazzar entered indignant protest. + +“It isn't going to hurt her,” said the Harvester impatiently. “She may +walk all the way back. She can rest while I get these boxes billed and +loaded if she can be persuaded to get them to the express office on +time. The trouble with Betsy is that she wants to meander along the road +with a loaded wagon as her mother and grandmother before her wandered +through the woods wearing a bell to attract the deer. Father used to say +that her mother was the smartest bell mare that ever entered the forest. +She'd not only find the deer, but she'd make friends with them and lead +them straight as a bee-line to where he was hiding. Betsy, you must +travel!” + +The Harvester drew the lines taut, and the whip fell smartly. The +astonished Betsy snorted and pranced down the valley as fast as she +could, but every step indicated that she felt outraged and abused. This +was the loveliest day of the season. The sun was shining, the air was +heavy with the perfume of flowering shrubs and trees, the orchards of +the valley were white with bloom. Farmers were hurrying back and forth +across fields, leaving up turned lines of black, swampy mould behind +them, and one progressive individual rode a wheeled plow, drove three +horses and enjoyed the shelter of a canopy. + +“Saints preserve us, Belshazzar!” cried the Harvester. “Do you see that? +He is one of the men who makes a business of calling me shiftless. Now +he thinks he is working. Working! For a full-grown man, did you ever see +the equal? If I were going that far I'd wear a tucked shirt, panama hat, +have a pianola attachment, and an automatic fan.” + +The Harvester laughed as he again touched Betsy and hurried to Onabasha. +He scarcely saw the delights offered on either hand, and where his +eyes customarily took in every sight, and his ears were tuned for +the faintest note of earth or tree top, to day he saw only Betsy and +listened for a whistle he dreaded to hear at the water tank. He climbed +the embankment of the railway at a slower pace, but made up time going +down hill to the city. + +“I am not getting a blame thing out of this,” he complained to +Belshazzar. “There are riches to stagger any scientist wasting to-day, +and all I've got to show is one oriole. I did hear his first note and +see his flash, and so unless we can take time to make up for this on the +home road we will have to christen it oriole day. It's a perfumed golden +day, too; I can get that in passing, but how I loathe hurrying. I don't +mind planning things and working steadily, but it's not consistent with +the dignity of a sane man to go rushing across country with as much +appreciation of the delights offered right now as a chicken with its +head off would have. We will loaf going back to pay for this! And won't +we invite our souls? We will stop and gather a big bouquet of crab +apple blossoms to fill the green pitcher for her. Maybe some of their +wonderful perfume will linger in her room. When the petals fall we will +scatter them in the drawers of her dresser, and they may distil a faint +flower odour there. We could do that to all her furniture, but perhaps +she doesn't like perfume. She'll be compelled to after she reaches +Medicine Woods. Betsy, you must travel faster!” + +The whip fell again and the Harvester stopped at the depot with a few +minutes to spare. He threw the hitching strap to Belshazzar, and ran +into the express office with an arm load of boxes. + +“Bill them!” he cried. “It's a rush order. I want it to go on the +next express. Almost due I think. I'll help you and we can book them +afterward.” + +The expressman ran for a truck and they hastily weighed and piled on +boxes. When the last one was loaded from the wagon, a heap more lying in +the office were added, pitched on indiscriminately as the train pulled +under the sheds of the Union Station. + +“I'll push,” cried the Harvester, “and help you get them on.” + +Hurrying as fast as he could the expressman drew the heavy truck through +the iron gates and started toward the train slowing to a stop, and the +Harvester pushed. As they came down the platform they passed the dining +and sleeping cars of the long train and were several times delayed +by descending passengers. Just opposite the day coach the expressman +narrowly missed running into several women leading small children and +stopped abruptly. A toppling box threatened the head of the Harvester. +He peered around the truck and saw they must wait a few seconds. He put +in the time watching the people. A gray-haired old man, travelling in a +silk hat, wavered on the top step and went his way. A fat woman loaded +with bundles puffed as she clung trembling a second in fear she would +miss the step she could not see. A tall, slender girl with a face coldly +white came next, and from the broken shoe she advanced, the bewildered +fright of big, dark eyes glancing helplessly, the Harvester saw that she +was poor, alone, ill, and in trouble. Pityingly he turned to watch her, +and as he gauged her height, saw her figure, and a dark coronet of hair +came into view, a ghastly pallor swept his face. + +“Merciful God!” he breathed, “that's my Dream Girl!” + +The truck started with a jerk. The toppling box fell, struck a passing +boy, and knocked him down. The mother screamed and the Harvester sprang +to pick up the child and see that he was not dangerously hurt. Then he +ran after the truck, pitched on the box, and whirling, sped beside the +train toward the gates of exit. There was the usual crush, but he could +see the tall figure passing up the steps to the depot. He tried to +force his way and was called a brute by a crowded woman. He ran down the +platform to the gates he had entered with the truck. They were automatic +and had locked. Then he became a primal creature being cheated of a +lawful mate and climbed the high iron fence and ran for the waiting +room. + +He swept it at a glance, not forgetting the women's apartment and the +side entrance. Then he hurried to the front exit. Up the street leading +from the city there were few people and he could see no sign of the +slight, white-faced girl. He crossed the sidewalk and ran down the +gutter for a block and breathlessly waited the passing crowd on the +corner. She was not among it. He tried one more square. Still he could +not see her. Then he ran back to the depot. He thought surely he must +have missed her. He again searched the woman's and general waiting room +and then he thought of the conductor. From him it could be learned where +she entered the car. He ran for the station, bolted the gate while the +official called to him, and reached the track in time to see the train +pull out within a few yards of him. + +“You blooming idiot!” cried the angry expressman as the Harvester ran +against him, “where did you go? Why didn't you help me? You are white as +a sheet! Have you lost your senses?” + +“Worse!” groaned the Harvester. “Worse! I've lost what I prize most on +earth. How could I reach the conductor of that train?” + +“Telegraph him at the next station. You can have an answer in a half +hour.” + +The Harvester ran to the office, and with shaking hand wrote this +message: + +“Where did a tall girl with big black eyes and wearing a gray dress take +your train? Important.” + +Then he went out and minutely searched the depot and streets. He hired +an automobile to drive him over the business part of Onabasha for three +quarters of an hour. Up one street and down another he went slowly where +there were crowds, faster as he could, but never a sight of her. Then he +returned to the depot and found his message. It read, “Transferred to me +at Fort Wayne from Chicago.” + +“Chicago baggage!” he cried, and hurried to the check room. He had lost +almost an hour. When he reached the room he found the officials busy and +unwilling to be interrupted. Finally he learned there had been a half +dozen trunks from Chicago. All were taken save two, and one glance at +them told the Harvester that they did not belong to the girl in gray. +The others had been claimed by men having checks for them. If she had +been there, the officials had not noticed a tall girl having a white +face and dark eyes. When he could think of no further effort to make he +drove to the hospital. + +Doctor Carey was not in his office, and the Harvester sat in the +revolving chair before the desk and gripped his head between his hands +as he tried to think. He could not remember anything more he could +have done, but since what he had done only ended in failure, he was +reproaching himself wildly that he had taken his eyes from the Girl an +instant after recognizing her. Yet it was in his blood to be decent and +he could not have run away and left a frightened woman and a hurt child. +Trusting to his fleet feet and strength he had taken time to replace the +box also, and then had met the crowd and delay. Just for the instant it +appeared to him as if he had done all a man could, and he had not found +her. If he allowed her to return to Chicago, probably he never would. He +leaned his head on his hands and groaned in discouragement. + +Doctor Carey whirled the chair so that it faced him before the Harvester +realized that he was not alone. + +“What's the trouble, David?” he asked tersely. + +The Harvester lifted a strained face. + +“I came for help,” he said. + +“Well you will get it! All you have to do is to state what you want.” + +That seemed simplicity itself to the doctor. But when it came to putting +his case into words, it was not easy for the Harvester. + +“Go on!” said the doctor. + +“You'll think me a fool.” + +The doctor laughed heartily. + +“No doubt!” he said soothingly. “No doubt, David! Probably you are; so +why shouldn't I think so. But remember this, when we make the biggest +fools of ourselves that is precisely the time when we need friends, and +when they stick to us the tightest, if they are worth while. I've been +waiting since latter February for you to tell me. We can fix it, of +course; there's always a way. Go on!” + +“Well I wasn't fooling about the dream and the vision I told you of +then, Doc. I did have a dream--and it was a dream of love. I did see a +vision--and it was a beautiful woman.” + +“I hope you are not nursing that experience as something exclusive and +peculiar to you,” said the doctor. “There is not a normal, sane man +living who has not dreamed of love and the most exquisite woman who came +from the clouds or anywhere and was gracious to him. That's a part of a +man's experience in this world, and it happens to most of us, not once, +but repeatedly. It's a case where the wish fathers the dream.” + +“Well it hasn't happened to me 'on repeated occasions,' but it did one +night, and by dawn I was converted. How CAN a dream be so real, Doc? +How could I see as clearly as I ever saw in the daytime in my most alert +moment, hear every step and garment rustle, scent the perfume of hair, +and feel warm breath strike my face? I don't understand it!” + +“Neither does any one else! All you need say is that your dream was real +as life. Go on!” + +“I built a new cabin and pretty well overturned the place and I've been +making furniture I thought a woman would like, and carrying things from +town ever since.” + +“Gee! It was reality to you, lad!” + +“Nothing ever more so,” said the Harvester. + +“And of course, you have been looking for her?” + +“And this morning I saw her!” + +“David!” + +“Not the ghost of a chance for a mistake. Her height, her eyes, her +hair, her walk, her face; only something terrible has happened since she +came to me. It was the same girl, but she is ill and in trouble now.” + +“Where is she?” + +“Do you suppose I'd be here if I knew?” + +“David, are you dreaming in daytime?” + +“She got off the Chicago train this morning while I was helping Daniels +load a big truck of express matter. Some of it was mine, and it was +important. Just at the wrong instant a box fell and knocked down a child +and I got in a jam----” + +“And as it was you, of course you stopped to pick up the child and do +everything decent for other folks, before you thought of yourself, and +so you lost her. You needn't tell me anything more. David, if I find +her, and prove to you that she has been married ten years and has an +interesting family, will you thank me?” + +“Can't be done!” said the Harvester calmly. “She has been married only +since she gave herself to me in February, and she is not a mother. You +needn't bank on that.” + +“You are mighty sure!” + +“Why not? I told you the dream was real, and now that I have seen her, +and she is in this very town, why shouldn't I be sure?” + +“What have you done?” + +The Harvester told him. + +“What are you going to do next?” + +“Talk it over with you and decide.” + +The doctor laughed. + +“Well here are a few things that occur to me without time for thought. +Talk to the ticket agents, and leave her description with them. Make it +worth their while to be on the lookout, and if she goes anywhere to find +out all they can. They could make an excuse of putting her address on +her ticket envelope, and get it that way. See the baggagemen. Post the +day police on Main Street. There is no chance for her to escape you. A +full-grown woman doesn't vanish. How did she act when she got off the +car? Did she appear familiar?” + +“No. She was a stranger. For an instant she looked around as if she +expected some one, then she followed the crowd. There must have been an +automobile waiting or she took a street car. Something whirled her out +of sight in a few seconds.” + +“Well we will get her in range again. Now for the most minute +description you can give.” + +The Harvester hesitated. He did not care to describe the Dream Girl to +any one, much less the living, suffering face and poorly clad form of +the reality. + +“Cut out your scruples,” laughed the doctor. “You have asked me to help +you; how can I if I don't know what kind of a woman to look for?” + +“Very tall and slender,” said the Harvester. “Almost as tall as I am.” + +“Unusually tall you think?” + +“I know!” + +“That's a good point for identification. How about her complexion, hair, +and eyes?” + +“Very large, dark eyes, and a great mass of black hair.” + +The doctor roared. + +“The eyes may help,” he said. “All women have masses of hair these days. +I hope----” + +“Her hair is fast to her head,” said the Harvester indignantly. “I saw +it at close range, and I know. It went around like a crown.” + +The doctor choked down a laugh. He wanted to say that every woman's hair +was like a crown at present, but there were things no man ventured with +David Langston; those who knew him best, least of any. So he suggested, +“And her colouring?” + +“She was white and rosy, a lovely thing in the dream,” said the +Harvester, “but something dreadful has happened. That's all wiped out +now. She was very pale when she left the car.” + +“Car sick, maybe.” + +“Soul sick!” was the grim reply. + +Then Doctor Carey appeared so disturbed the Harvester noticed it. + +“You needn't think I'd be here prating about her if I wasn't FORCED. +If she had been rosy and well as she was in the dream, I'd have made +my hunt alone and found her, too. But when I saw she was sick and in +trouble, it took all the courage out of me, and I broke for help. She +must be found at once, and when she is you are probably the first man +I'll want. I am going to put up a pretty stiff search myself, and if I +find her I'll send or get her to you if I can. Put her in the best ward +you have and anything money will do----” + +The face of the doctor was growing troubled. + +“Day coach or Pullman?” he asked. + +“Day.” + +“How was she dressed?” + +“Small black hat, very plain. Gray jacket and skirt, neat as a flower.” + +“What you'd call expensively dressed?” + +The Harvester hesitated. + +“What I'd call carefully dressed, but----but poverty poor, if you will +have it, Doc.” + +Doctor Carey's lips closed and then opened in sudden resolution. + +“David, I don't like it,” he said tersely. + +The Harvester met his eye and purposely misunderstood him. + +“Neither do I!” he exclaimed. “I hate it! There is something wrong with +the whole world when a woman having a face full of purity, intellect, +and refinement of extreme type glances around her like a hunted thing; +when her appearance seems to indicate that she has starved her body to +clothe it. I know what is in your mind, Doc, but if I were you I +wouldn't put it into words, and I wouldn't even THINK it. Has it been +your experience in this world that women not fit to know skimp their +bodies to cover them? Does a girl of light character and little brain +have the hardihood to advance a foot covered with a broken shoe? If I +could tell you that she rode in a Pullman, and wore exquisite clothing, +you would be doing something. The other side of the picture shuts you up +like a clam, and makes you appear shocked. Let me tell you this: No +other woman I ever saw anywhere on God's footstool had a face of more +delicate refinement, eyes of purer intelligence. I am of the woods, and +while they don't teach me how to shine in society, they do instil always +and forever the fineness of nature and her ways. I have her lessons so +well learned they help me more than anything else to discern the +qualities of human nature. If you are my friend, and have any faith at +all in my common sense, get up and do something!” + +The doctor arose promptly. + +“David, I'm an ass,” he said. “Unusually lop-eared, and blind in the +bargain. But before I ask you to forgive me, I want you to remember two +things: First, she did not visit me in my dreams; and, second, I did not +see her in reality. I had nothing to judge from except what you +said: you seemed reluctant to tell me, and what you did say +was----was----disturbing to a friend of yours. I have not the slightest +doubt if I had seen her I would agree with you. We seldom disagree, +David. Now, will you forgive me?” + +The Harvester suddenly faced a window. When at last he turned, “The +offence lies with me,” he said, “I was hasty. Are you going to help me?” + +“With all my heart! Go home and work until your head clears, then come +back in the morning. She did not come from Chicago for a day. You've +done all I know to do at present.” + +“Thank you,” said the Harvester. + +He went to Betsy and Belshazzar, and slowly drove up and down the +streets until Betsy protested and calmly turned homeward. The Harvester +smiled ruefully as he allowed her to proceed. + +“Go slow and take it easy,” he said as they reached the country. “I want +to think.” + +Betsy stopped at the barn, the white doves took wing, and Ajax screamed +shrilly before the Harvester aroused in the slightest to anything around +him. Then he looked at Belshazzar and said emphatically: “Now, partner, +don't ever again interfere when I am complying with the observances of +my religion. Just look what I'd have missed if I hadn't made good with +that order!” + + + +CHAPTER VI. TO LABOUR AND TO WAIT + +“We have reached the 'beginning of the end,' Ajax!” said the Harvester, +as the peacock ceased screaming and came to seek food from his hand. +“We have seen the Girl. Now we must locate her and convince her that +Medicine Woods is her happy home. I feel quite equal to the latter +proposition, Ajax, but how the nation to find her sticks me. I can't +make a search so open that she will know and resent it. She must have +all the consideration ever paid the most refined woman, but she also +has got to be found, and that speedily. When I remember that look on her +face, as if horrors were snatching at her skirts, it takes all the grit +out of me. I feel weak as a sapling. And she needs all my strength. I've +simply got to brace up. I'll work a while and then perhaps I can think.” + +So the Harvester began the evening routine. He thought he did not want +anything to eat, but when he opened the cupboard and smelled the food he +learned that he was a hungry man and he cooked and ate a good supper. He +put away everything carefully, for even the kitchen was dainty and fresh +and he wanted to keep it so for her. When he finished he went into the +living-room, stood before the fireplace, and studied the collection of +half-finished candlesticks grouped upon it. He picked up several and +examined them closely, but realized that he could not bind himself to +the exactions of carving that evening. He took a key from his pocket and +unlocked her door. Every day he had been going there to improve upon his +work for her, and he loved the room, the outlook from its windows; he +was very proud of the furniture he had made. There was no paper-thin +covering on her chairs, bed, and dressing table. The tops, seats, and +posts were solid wood, worth hundreds of dollars for veneer. + +To-night he folded his arms and stood on the sill hesitating. While +she was a dream, he had loved to linger in her room. Now that she was +reality, he paused. In one golden May day the place had become sacred. +Since he had seen the Girl that room was so hers that he was hesitating +about entering because of this fact. It was as if the tall, slender form +stood before the chest of drawers or sat at the dressing table and he +did not dare enter unless he were welcome. Softly he closed the door and +went away. He wandered to the dry-house and turned the bark and roots on +the trays, but the air stifled him and he hurried out. He tried to work +in the packing room, but walls smothered him and again he sought the +open. + +He espied a bundle of osier-bound, moss-covered ferns that he had found +in the woods, and brought the shovel to transplant them; but the +work worried him, and he hurried through with it. Then he looked for +something else to do and saw an ax. He caught it up and with lusty +strokes began swinging it. When he had chopped wood until he was very +tired he went to bed. Sleep came to the strong, young frame and he awoke +in the morning refreshed and hopeful. + +He wondered why he had bothered Doctor Carey. The Harvester felt able +that morning to find his Dream Girl without assistance before the day +was over. It was merely a matter of going to the city and locating a +woman. Yesterday, it had been a question of whether she really existed. +To-day, he knew. Yesterday, it had meant a search possibly as wide +as earth to find her. To-day, it was narrowed to only one location so +small, compared with Chicago, that the Harvester felt he could sift +its population with his fingers, and pick her from others at his first +attempt. If she were visiting there probably she would rest during the +night, and be on the streets to-day. + +When he remembered her face he doubted it. He decided to spend part +of the time on the business streets and the remainder in the residence +portions of the city. Because it was uncertain when he would return, +everything was fed a double portion, and Betsy was left at a livery +stable with instructions to care for her until he came. He did not know +where the search would lead him. For several hours he slowly walked the +business district and then ranged farther, but not a sight of her. He +never had known that Onabasha was so large. On its crowded streets he +did not feel that he could sift the population through his fingers, nor +could he open doors and search houses without an excuse. + +Some small boys passed him eating bananas, and the Harvester looked at +his watch and was amazed to find that the day had advanced until two +o'clock in the afternoon. He was tired and hungry. He went into a +restaurant and ordered lunch; as he waited a girl serving tables smiled +at him. Any other time the Harvester would have returned at least a +pleasant look, and gone his way. To-day he scowled at her, and ate in +hurried discomfort. On the streets again, he had no idea where to go and +so he went to the hospital. + +“I expected you early this morning,” was the greeting of Doctor Carey. +“Where have you been and what have you done?” + +“Nothing,” said the Harvester. “I was so sure she would be on the +streets I just watched, but I didn't see her.” + +“We will go to the depot,” said the doctor. “The first thing is to keep +her from leaving town.” + +They arranged with the ticket agents, expressmen, telegraphers, and, as +they left, the Harvester stopped and tipped the train caller, offering +further reward worth while if he would find the Girl. + +“Now we will go to the police station,” said the doctor. + +“I'll see the chief and have him issue a general order to his men to +watch for her, but if I were you I'd select a half dozen in the down +town district, and give them a little tip with a big promise!” + +“Good Lord! How I hate this,” groaned the Harvester. + +“Want to find her by yourself?” questioned his friend. + +“Yes,” said the Harvester, “I do! And I would, if it hadn't been for +her ghastly face. That drives me to resort to any measures. The +probabilities are that she is lying sick somewhere, and if her comfort +depends on the purse that dressed her, she will suffer. Doc, do you know +how awful this is?” + +“I know that you've got a great imagination. If the woods make all men +as sensitive as you are, those who have business to transact should stay +out of them. Take a common-sense view. Look at this as I do. If she was +strong enough to travel in a day coach from Chicago; she can't be so +very ill to-day. Leaving life by the inch isn't that easy. She will be +alive this time next year, whether you find her or not. The chances are +that her stress was mental anyway, and trouble almost never overcomes +any one.” + +“You, a doctor and say that!” + +“Oh, I mean instantaneously----in a day! Of course if it grinds away +for years! But youth doesn't allow it to do that. It throws it off, and +grows hopeful and happy again. She won't die; put that out of your +mind. If I were you I would go home now and go straight on with my work, +trusting to the machinery you have set in motion. I know most of the +men with whom we have talked. They will locate her in a week or less. +It's their business. It isn't yours. It's your job to be ready for her, +and have enough ahead to support her when they find her. Try to realize +that there are now a dozen men on hunt for her, and trust them. Go back +to your work, and I will come full speed in the motor when the first man +sights her. That ought to satisfy you. I've told all of them to call me +at the hospital, and I will tell my assistant what to do in case a call +comes while I am away. Straighten your face! Go back to Medicine Woods +and harvest your crops, and before you know it she will be located. Then +you can put on your Sunday clothes and show yourself, and see if you can +make her take notice.” + +“Idiot!” exclaimed the Harvester, but he started home. When he arrived +he attended to his work and then sat down to think. + +“Doc is right,” was his ultimate conclusion. “She can't leave the city, +she can't move around in it, she can't go anywhere, without being seen. +There's one more point: I must tell Carey to post all the doctors to +report if they have such a call. That's all I can think of. I'll +go to-night, and then I'll look over the ginseng for parasites, and +to-morrow I'll dive into the late spring growth and work until I haven't +time to think. I've let cranesbill get a week past me now, and it can't +be dispensed with.” + +So the following morning, when the Harvester had completed his work at +the cabin and barn and breakfasted, he took a mattock and a big hempen +bag, and followed the path to the top of the hill. As it ran along the +lake bank he descended on the other side to several acres of cleared +land, where he raised corn for his stock, potatoes, and coarser garden +truck, for which there was not space in the smaller enclosure close the +cabin. Around the edges of these fields, and where one of them sloped +toward the lake, he began grubbing a variety of grass having tall stems +already over a foot in height at half growth. From each stem waved four +or five leaves of six or eight inches length and the top showed forming +clusters of tiny spikelets. + +“I am none too early for you,” he muttered to himself as he ran the +mattock through the rich earth, lifting the long, tough, jointed root +stalks of pale yellow, from every section of which broke sprays of fine +rootlets. “None too early for you, and as you are worth only seven cents +a pound, you couldn't be considered a 'get-rich-quick' expedient, so +I'll only stop long enough with you to gather what I think my customers +will order, and amass a fortune a little later picking mullein flowers +at seventy-five cents a pound. What a crop I've got coming!” + +The Harvester glanced ahead, where in the cleared soil of the bank grew +large plants with leaves like yellow-green felt and tall bloom stems +rising. Close them flourished other species requiring dry sandy soil, +that gradually changed as it approached the water until it became +covered with rank abundance of short, wiry grass, half the blades of +which appeared red. Numerous everywhere he could see the grayish-white +leaves of Parnassus grass. As the season advanced it would lift +heart-shaped velvet higher, and before fall the stretch of emerald would +be starred with white-faced, green-striped flowers. + +“Not a prettier sight on earth,” commented the Harvester, “than just +swale wire grass in September making a fine, thick background to set off +those delicate starry flowers on their slender stems. I must remember to +bring her to see that.” + +His eyes followed the growth to the water. As the grass drew closer +moisture it changed to the rank, sweet, swamp variety, then came +bulrushes, cat-tails, water smartweed, docks, and in the water blue flag +lifted folded buds; at its feet arose yellow lily leaves and farther out +spread the white. As the light struck the surface the Harvester imagined +he could see the little green buds several inches below. Above all arose +wild rice he had planted for the birds. The red wings swayed on the +willows and tilted on every stem that would bear their weight, singing +their melodious half-chanted notes, “O-ka-lee!” + +Beneath them the ducks gobbled, splashed, and chattered; grebe and coot +voices could be distinguished; king rails at times flashed into sight +and out again; marsh wrens scolded and chattered; occasionally a +kingfisher darted around the lake shore, rolling his rattling cry and +flashing his azure coat and gleaming white collar. On a hollow tree +in the woods a yellow hammer proved why he was named, because he +carpentered industriously to enlarge the entrance to the home he was +excavating in a dead tree; and sailing over the lake and above the woods +in grace scarcely surpassed by any, a lonesome turkey buzzard awaited +his mate's decision as to which hollow log was most suitable for their +home. + +The Harvester stuffed the grass roots in the bag until it would hold no +more and stood erect to wipe his face, for the sun was growing warm. As +he drew his handkerchief across his brow, the south wind struck him with +enough intensity to attract attention. Instantly the Harvester removed +his hat, rolled it up, and put it into his pocket. He stood an instant +delighting in the wind and then spoke. + +“Allow me to express my most fervent thanks for your kindness,” he said. +“I thought probably you would take that message, since it couldn't mean +much to you, and it meant all the world to me. I thought you would carry +it, but, I confess, I scarcely expected the answer so soon. The only +thing that could make me more grateful to you would be to know exactly +where she is: but you must understand that it's like a peep into Heaven +to have her existence narrowed to one place. I'm bound to be able to +say inside a few days, she lives at number----I don't know yet, on +street----I'll find out soon, in the closest city, Onabasha. And I know +why you brought her, South Wind. If ever a girl's cheeks need fanning +with your breezes, and painting with sun kisses, I wouldn't mind, since +this is strictly private, adding a few of mine; if ever any one needed +flowers, birds, fresh air, water, and rest! Good Lord, South Wind, did +you ever reach her before you carried that message? I think not! But +Onabasha isn't so large. You and the sun should get your innings there. +I do hope she is not trying to work! I can attend to that; and so there +will be more time when she is found, I'd better hustle now.” + +He picked up the bag and returned to the dry-house, where he carefully +washed the roots and spread them on the trays. Then he took the same +bag and mattock and going through the woods in the opposite direction +he came to a heavy growth in a cleared space of high ground. The bloom +heads were forming and the plant was half matured. The Harvester dug a +cylindrical, tapering root, wrinkling lengthwise, wiped it clean, broke +and tasted it. He made a wry face. He stood examining the white wood +with its brown-red bark and, deciding that it was in prime condition, he +began digging the plants. It was common wayside “Bouncing Bet,” but the +Harvester called it “soapwort.” He took every other plant in his way +across the bed, and when he digged a heavy load he carried it home, +stripped the leaves, and spread them on trays, while the roots he +topped, washed, and put to dry also. Then he whistled for Belshazzar and +went to lunch. + +As he passed down the road to the cabin his face was a study of +conflicting emotions, and his eyes had a far away appearance of deep +thought. Every tree of his stretch of forest was rustling fresh leaves +to shelter him; dogwood, wild crab, and hawthorn offered their flowers; +earth held up her tribute in painted trillium faces, spring beauties, +and violets, blue, white, and yellow. Mosses, ferns, and lichen +decorated the path; all the birds greeted him in friendship, and +sang their purest melodies. The sky was blue, the sun bright, the air +perfumed for him; Belshazzar, always true to his name, protected every +footstep; Ajax, the shimmering green and gold wonder, came up the hill +to meet him; the white doves circled above his head. Stumbling half +blindly, the Harvester passed unheeding among them, and went into the +cabin. When he came out he stood a long time in deep study, but at last +he returned to the woods. + +“Perhaps they will have found her before night,” he said. “I'll harvest +the cranesbill yet, because it's growing late for it, and then I'll see +how they are coming on. Maybe they'd know her if they met her, and maybe +they wouldn't. She may wear different clothing, and freshen up after her +trip. She might have been car sick, as Doc suggested, and appear very +different when she feels better.” + +He skirted the woods around the northeast end and stopped at a big bed +of exquisite growth. Tall, wiry stems sprang upward almost two feet in +height; leaves six inches across were cut in ragged lobes almost to the +base, and here and there, enough to colour the entire bed a delicate +rose or sometimes a violet purple, the first flowers were unfolding. The +Harvester lifted a root and tasted it. + +“No doubt about you being astringent,” he muttered. “You have enough +tannin in you to pucker a mushroom. By the way, those big, corn-cobby +fellows should spring up with the next warm rain, and the hotels and +restaurants always pay high prices. I must gather a few bushels.” + +He looked over the bed of beautiful wild alum and hesitated. + +“I vow I hate to touch you,” he said. “You are a picture right now, and +in a week you will be a miracle. It seems a shame to tear up a plant for +its roots, just at flowering time, and I can't avoid breaking down half +I don't take, getting the ones I do. I wish you were not so pretty! You +are one of the colours I love most. You remind me of red-bud, blazing +star, and all those exquisite magenta shades that poets, painters, and +the Almighty who made them love so much they hesitate about using them +lavishly. You are so delicate and graceful and so modest. I wish she +could see you! I got to stop this or I won't be able to lift a root. I +never would if the ten cents a pound I'll get out of it were the only +consideration.” + +The Harvester gripped the mattock and advanced to the bed. “What I must +be thinking is that you are indispensable to the sick folks. The steady +demand for you proves your value, and of course, humanity comes first, +after all. If I remain in the woods alone much longer I'll get to the +place where I'm not so sure that it does. Seems as if animals, birds, +flowers, trees, and insects as well, have their right to life also. But +it's for me to remember the sick folks! If I thought the Girl would get +some of it now, I could overturn the bed with a stout heart. If any one +ever needed a tonic, I think she does. Maybe some of this will reach +her. If it does, I hope it will make her cheeks just the lovely pink of +the bloom. Oh Lord! If only she hadn't appeared so sick and frightened! +What is there in all this world of sunshine to make a girl glance around +her like that? I wish I knew! Maybe they will have found her by night.” + +The Harvester began work on the bed, but he knelt and among the damp +leaves from the spongy black earth he lifted the roots with his fingers +and carefully straightened and pressed down the plants he did not take. +This required more time than usual, but his heart was so sore he could +not be rough with anything, most of all a flower. So he harvested the +wild alum by hand, and heaped large stacks of roots around the edges of +the bed. Often he paused as he worked and on his knees stared through +the forest as if he hoped perhaps she would realize his longing for her, +and come to him in the wood as she had across the water. Over and +over he repeated, “Perhaps they will find her by night!” and that so +intensified the meaning that once he said it aloud. His face clouded and +grew dark. + +“Dealish nice business!” he said. “I am here in the woods digging flower +roots, and a gang of men in the city are searching for the girl I love. +If ever a job seemed peculiarly a man's own, it appears this would be. +What business has any other man spying after my woman? Why am I not down +there doing my own work, as I always have done it? Who's more likely to +find her than I am? It seems as if there would be an instinct that +would lead me straight to her, if I'd go. And you can wager I'll go fast +enough.” + +The Harvester appeared as if he would start that instant, but with lips +closely shut he finally forced himself to go on with his work. When he +had rifled the bed, and uprooted all he cared to take during one season, +he carried the roots to the lake shore below the curing house, and +spread them on a platform he had built. He stepped into his boat and +began dashing pails of water over them and using a brush. As he worked +he washed away the woody scars of last year's growth, and the tiny buds +appearing for the coming season. + +Belshazzar sat on the opposite bank and watched the operation; and Ajax +came down and, flying to a dead stump, erected and slowly waved his +train to attract the sober-faced man who paid no heed. He left the roots +to drain while he prepared supper, then placed them on the trays, now +filled to overflowing, and was glad he had finished. He could not cure +anything else at present if he wanted to. He was as far advanced as he +had been at the same time the previous year. Then he dressed neatly and +locking the Girl's room, and leaving Belshazzar to protect it, he went +to Onabasha. + +“Bravo!” cried Doctor Carey as the Harvester entered his office. “You +are heroic to wait all day for news. How much stuff have you gathered?” + +“Three crops. How many missing women have you located?” + +The doctor laughed. There was no sign of a smile on the face of the +Harvester. + +“You didn't really expect her to come to light the first day? That would +be too easy! We can't find her in a minute.” + +“It will be no surprise to me if you can't find her at all. I am not +expecting another man to do what I don't myself.” + +“You are not hunting her. You are harvesting the woods. The men you +employ are to find her.” + +“Maybe I am, and maybe I am not,” said the Harvester slowly. “To me +it appears to be a poor stick of a man who coolly proceeds with money +making, and trusts to men who haven't even seen her to search for the +girl he loves. I think a few hours of this is about all my patience will +endure.” + +“What are you going to do?” + +“I don't know,” said the Harvester. “But you can bank on one thing +sure----I'm going to do something! I've had my fill of this. Thank you +for all you've done, and all you are going to do. My head is not clear +enough yet to decide anything with any sense, but maybe I'll hit on +something soon. I'm for the streets for a while.” + +“Better go home and go to bed. You seem very tired.” + +“I am,” said the Harvester. “The only way to endure this is to work +myself down. I'm all right, and I'll be careful, but I rather think I'll +find her myself.” + +“Better go on with your work as we planned.” + +“I'll think about it,” said the Harvester as he went out. + +Until he was too tired to walk farther he slowly paced the streets of +the city, and then followed the home road through the valley and up the +hill to Medicine Woods. When he came to Singing Water, Belshazzar heard +his steps on the bridge, and came bounding to meet him. The Harvester +stretched himself on a seat and turned his face to the sky. It was a +deep, dark-blue bowl, closely set with stars, and a bright moon shed a +soft May radiance on the young earth. The lake was flooded with light, +and the big trees of the forest crowning the hill were silver coroneted. +The unfolding leaves had hidden the new cabin from the bridge, but the +driveway shone white, and already the upspringing bushes hedged it in. +Insects were humming lazily in the perfumed night air, and across the +lake a courting whip-poor-will was explaining to his sweetheart just +how much and why he loved her. A few bats were wavering in air hunting +insects, and occasionally an owl or a nighthawk crossed the lake. +Killdeer were glorying in the moonlight and night flight, and cried in +pure, clear notes as they sailed over the water. The Harvester was tired +and filled with unrest as he stretched on the bridge, but the longer +he lay the more the enfolding voices comforted him. All of them were +waiting and working out their lives to the legitimate end; there was +nothing else for him to do. He need not follow instinct or profit by +chance. He was a man; he could plan and reason. + +The air grew balmy and some big, soft clouds swept across the moon. The +Harvester felt the dampness of rising dew, and went to the cabin. He +looked at it long in the moonlight and told himself that he could see +how much the plants, vines, and ferns had grown since the previous +night. Without making a light, he threw himself on the bed in the +outdoor room, and lay looking through the screening at the lake and sky. +He was working his brain to think of some manner in which to start a +search for the Dream Girl that would have some probability of success to +recommend it, but he could settle on no feasible plan. At last he fell +asleep, and in the night soft rain wet his face. He pulled an oilcloth +sheet over the bed, and lay breathing deeply of the damp, perfumed air +as he again slept. In the morning brilliant sunshine awoke him and he +arose to find the earth steaming. + +“If ever there was a perfect mushroom day!” he said to Belshazzar. “We +must hurry and feed the stock and ourselves and gather some. They mean +real money.” + + + +CHAPTER VII. THE QUEST OF THE DREAM GIRL + +The Harvester breakfasted, fed the stock, hitched Betsy to the spring +wagon, and went into the dripping, steamy woods. If anyone had asked him +that morning concerning his idea of Heaven, he never would have dreamed +of describing a place of gold-paved streets, crystal pillars, jewelled +gates, and thrones of ivory. These things were beyond the man's +comprehension and he would not have admired or felt at home in such +magnificence if it had been materialized for him. He would have told +you that a floor of last year's brown leaves, studded with myriad flower +faces, big, bark-encased pillars of a thousand years, jewels on every +bush, shrub, and tree, and tilting thrones on which gaudy birds almost +burst themselves to voice the joy of life, while their bright-eyed +little mates peered questioningly at him over nest rims----he would have +told you that Medicine Woods on a damp, sunny May morning was Heaven. +And he would have added that only one angel, tall and slender, with the +pink of health on her cheeks and the dew of happiness in her dark eyes, +was necessary to enter and establish glory. Everything spoke to him that +morning, but the Harvester was silent. It had been his habit to talk +constantly to Belshazzar, Ajax, his work, even the winds and perfumes; +it had been his method of dissipating solitude, but to-day he had no +words, even for these dear friends. He only opened his soul to beauty, +and steadily climbed the hill to the crest, and then down the other side +to the rich, half-shaded, half-open spaces, where big, rough mushrooms +sprang in a night similar to the one just passed. + +He could see them awaiting him from afar. He began work with rapid +fingers, being careful to break off the heads, but not to pull up the +roots. When four heaping baskets were filled he cut heavily leaved +branches to spread over them, and started to Onabasha. As usual, +Belshazzar rode beside him and questioned the Harvester when he politely +suggested to Betsy that she make a little haste. + +“Have you forgotten that mushrooms are perishable?” he asked. “If we +don't get these to the city all woodsy and fresh we can't sell them. +Wonder where we can do the best? The hotels pay well. Really, the +biggest prices could be had by----” + +Then the Harvester threw back his head and began to laugh, and +he laughed, and he laughed. A crow on the fence Joined him, and a +kingfisher, heading for Loon Lake, and then Belshazzar caught the +infection. + +“Begorry! The very idea!” cried the Harvester. “'Heaven helps them +that help themselves.' Now you just watch us manoeuvre for assistance, +Belshazzar, old boy! Here we go!” + +Then the laugh began again. It continued all the way to Onabasha and +even into the city. The Harvester drove through the most prosperous +street until he reached the residence district. At the first home +he stopped, gave the lines to Belshazzar, and, taking a basket of +mushrooms, went up the walk and rang the bell. + +“All groceries should be delivered at the back door,” snapped a pert +maid, before he had time to say a word. + +The Harvester lifted his hat. + +“Will you kindly tell the lady of the house that I wish to speak with +her?” + +“What name, please?” + +“I want to show her some fine mushrooms, freshly gathered,” he answered. + +How she did it the Harvester never knew. The first thing he realized was +that the door had closed before his face, and the basket had been picked +deftly from his fingers and was on the other side. After a short time +the maid returned. + +“What do you want for them, please?” + +The last thing on earth the Harvester wanted to do was to part with +those mushrooms, so he took one long, speculative look down the hall and +named a price he thought would be prohibitive. + +“One dollar a dozen.” + +“How many are there?” + +“I count them as I sell them. I do not know.” + +The door closed again. Presently it opened and the maid knelt on the +floor before him and counted the mushrooms one by one into a dish pan +and in a few minutes brought back seven dollars and fifty cents. The +chagrined Harvester, feeling like a thief, put the money in his pocket, +and turned away. + +“I was to tell you,” said she, “that you are to bring all you have to +sell here, and the next time please go to the kitchen door.” + +“Must be fond of mushrooms,” said the disgruntled Harvester. + +“They are a great delicacy, and there are visitors.” The Harvester ached +to set the girl to one side and walk through the house, but he did not +dare; so he returned to the street, whistled to Betsy to come, and went +to the next gate. Here he hesitated. Should he risk further snubbing at +the front door or go back at once. If he did, he only would see a maid. +As he stood an instant debating, the door of the house he just had +left opened and the girl ran after him. “If you have more, we will take +them,” she called. + +The Harvester gasped for breath. + +“They have to be used at once,” he suggested. + +“She knows that. She wants to treat her friends.” + +“Well she has got enough for a banquet,” he said. “I--I don't usually +sell more than a dozen or two in one place.” + +“I don't see why you can't let her have them if you have more.” + +“Perhaps I have orders to fill for regular customers,” suggested the +Harvester. + +“And perhaps you haven't,” said the maid. “You ought to be ashamed not +to let people who are willing to pay your outrageous prices have them. +It's regular highway robbery.” + +“Possibly that's the reason I decline to hold up one party twice,” said +the Harvester as he entered the gate and went up the walk to the front +door. + +“You should be taught your place,” called the maid after him. + +The Harvester again rang the bell. Another maid opened the door, and +once more he asked to speak with the lady of the house. As the girl +turned, a handsome old woman in cap and morning gown came down the +stairs. + +“What have you there?” she asked. + +The Harvester lifted the leaves and exposed the musky, crimpled, big +mushrooms. + +“Oh!” she cried in delight. “Indeed, yes! We are very fond of them. I +will take the basket, and divide with my sons. You are sure you have no +poisonous ones among them?” + +“Quite sure,” said the Harvester faintly. + +“How much do you want for the basket?” + +“They are a dollar a dozen; I haven't counted them.” + +“Dear me! Isn't that rather expensive?” + +“It is. Very!” said the Harvester. “So expensive that most people don't +think of taking over a dozen. They are large and very rich, so they go a +long way.” + +“I suppose you have to spend a great deal of time hunting them? It does +seem expensive, but they are fresh, and the boys are so fond of them. +I'm not often extravagant, I'll just take the lot. Sarah, bring a pan.” + +Again the Harvester stood and watched an entire basket counted over and +carried away, and he felt the robber he had been called as he took the +money. + +At the next house he had learned a lesson. He carpeted a basket with +leaves and counted out a dozen and a half into it, leaving the remainder +in the wagon. Three blocks on one side of the street exhausted his +store and he was showered with orders. He had not seen any one that even +resembled a dark-eyed girl. As he came from the last house a big, red +motor shot past and then suddenly slowed and backed beside his wagon. + +“What in the name of sense are you doing?” demanded Doctor Carey. + +“Invading the residence district of Onabasha,” said the Harvester. +“Madam, would you like some nice, fresh, country mushrooms? I guarantee +that there are no poisonous ones among them, and they were gathered this +morning. Considering their rarity and the difficult work of collecting, +they are exceedingly low at my price. I am offering these for five +dollars a dozen, madam, and for mercy sake don't take them or I'll have +no excuse to go to the next house.” + +The doctor stared, then understood, and began to laugh. When at last he +could speak he said, “David, I'll bet you started with three bushels and +began at the head of this street, and they are all gone.” + +“Put up a good one!” said the Harvester. “You win. The first house I +tried they ordered me to the back door, took a market basket full away +from me by force, tried to buy the load, and I didn't see any one save a +maid.” + +The doctor lay on the steering gear and faintly groaned. + +The Harvester regarded him sympathetically. “Isn't it a crime?” he +questioned. “Mushrooms are no go. I can see that!----or rather they are +entirely too much of a go. I never saw anything in such demand. I must +seek a less popular article for my purpose. To-morrow look out for me. +I shall begin where I left off to-day, but I will have changed my +product.” + +“David, for pity sake,” peeped the doctor. + +“What do I care how I do it, so I locate her?” superbly inquired the +Harvester. + +“But you won't find her!” gasped the doctor. + +“I've come as close it as you so far, anyway,” said the Harvester. “Your +mushrooms are on the desk in your office.” + +He drove slowly up and down the streets until Betsy wabbled on her legs. +Then he left her to rest and walked until he wabbled; and by that time +it was dark, so he went home. + +At the first hint of dawn he was at work the following morning. With +loaded baskets closely covered, he started to Onabasha, and began where +he had quit the day before. This time he carried a small, crudely +fashioned bark basket, leaf-covered, and he rang at the front door with +confidence. + +Every one seemed to have a maid in that part of the city, for a freshly +capped and aproned girl opened the door. + +“Are there any young women living here?” blandly inquired the Harvester. + +“What's that of your business?” demanded the maid. + +The Harvester flushed, but continued, “I am offering something +especially intended for young women. If there are none, I will not +trouble you.” + +“There are several.” + +“Will you please ask them if they would care for bouquets of violets, +fresh from the woods?” + +“How much are they, and how large are the bunches?” + +“Prices differ, and they are the right size to appear well. They had +better see for themselves.” + +The maid reached for the basket, but the Harvester drew back. + +“I keep them in my possession,” he said. “You may take a sample.” + +He lifted the leaves and drew forth a medium-sized bunch of long-stemmed +blue violets with their leaves. The flowers were fresh, crisp, and +strong odours of the woods arose from them. + +“Oh!” cried the maid. “Oh, how lovely!” + +She hurried away with them and returned carrying a purse. + +“I want two more bunches,” she said. “How much are they?” + +“Are the girls who want them dark or fair?” + +“What difference does that make?” + +“I have blue violets for blondes, yellow for brunettes, and white for +the others.” + +“Well I never! One is fair, and two have brown hair and blue eyes.” + +“One blue and two whites,” said the Harvester calmly, as if matching +women's hair and eyes with flowers were an inherited vocation. “They are +twenty cents a bunch.” + +“Aha!” he chortled to himself as he whistled to Betsy. “At last we have +it. There are no dark-eyed girls here. Now we are making headway.” + +Down the street he went, with varying fortune, but with patience and +persistence at every house he at last managed to learn whether there was +a dark-eyed girl. There did not seem to be many. Long before his store +of yellow violets was gone the last blue and white had disappeared. But +he calmly went on asking for dark-eyed girls, and explaining that all +the blue and white were taken, because fair women were most numerous. + +At one house the owner, who reminded the Harvester of his mother, +came to the door. He uncovered and in his suavest tones inquired if +a brunette young woman lived there and if she would like a nosegay of +yellow violets. + +“Well bless my soul!” cried she. “What is this world coming to? Do +you mean to tell me that there are now able-bodied men offering at our +doors, flowers to match our girls' complexions?” + +“Yes madam?” said the Harvester gravely, “and also selling them as fast +as he can show them, at prices that make a profit very well worth while. +I had an equal number of blue and white, but I see the dark girls are +very much in the minority. The others were gone long ago, and I now have +flowers to offer brunettes only.” + +“Well forever more! And you don't call that fiddlin' business for a big, +healthy, young man?” + +The Harvester's gay laugh was infectious. + +“I do not,” he said. “I have to start as soon as I can see, tramp long +distances in wet woods and gather the violets on my knees, make them +into bunches, and bring them here in water to keep them fresh. I have +another occupation. I only kill time on these, but I would be ashamed to +tell you what I have gotten for them this morning.” + +“Humph! I'm glad to hear it!” said the woman. “Shame in some form is a +sign of grace. I have no use for a human being without a generous supply +of it. There is a very beautiful dark-eyed girl in the house, and I will +take two bunches for her. How much are they?” + +“I have only three remaining,” said the Harvester. “Would you like to +allow her to make her own selection?” + +“When I'm giving things I usually take my choice. I want that, and that +one.” + +“As my stock is so nearly out, I'll make the two for twenty,” said the +Harvester. “Won't you accept the last one from me, because you remind me +just a little of my mother?” + +“I will indeed,” said she. “Thank you very much! I shall love to have +them as dearly as any of the girls. I used to gather them when I was a +child, but I almost never see the blue ones any more, and I don't know +as I ever expected to see a yellow violet again as long as I live. Where +did you get them?” + +“In my woods,” said the Harvester. “You see I grow several members of +the viola pedata family, bird's foot, snake, and wood violet, and three +of the odorata, English, marsh, and sweet, for our big drug houses. They +use the flowers in making delicate tests for acids and alkalies. +The entire plant, flower, seed, leaf, and root, goes into different +remedies. The beds seed themselves and spread, so I have more than +I need for the chemists, and I sell a few. I don't use the white and +yellow in my business; I just grow them for their beauty. I also sell my +surplus lilies of the valley. Would you like to order some of them for +your house or more violets for to-morrow?” + +“Well bless my soul! Do you mean to tell me that lilies of the valley +are medicine?” + +The Harvester laughed. + +“I grow immense beds of them in the woods on the banks of Loon Lake,” + he said. “They are the convallaris majallis of the drug houses and I +scarcely know what the weak-hearted people would do without them. I use +large quantities in trade, and this season I am selling a few because +people so love them.” + +“Lilies in medicine; well dear me! Are roses good for our innards too?” + +Then the Harvester did laugh. + +“I imagine the roses you know go into perfumes mostly,” he answered. +“They do make medicine of Canadian rock rose and rose bay, laurel, and +willow. I grow the bushes, but they are not what you would consider +roses.” + +“I wonder now,” said the woman studying the Harvester closely, “if you +are not that queer genius I've heard of, who spends his time hunting and +growing stuff in the woods and people call him the Medicine Man.” + +“I strongly suspect madam, I am that man,” said the Harvester. + +“Well bless me!” cried she. “I've always wanted to see you and here when +I do, you look just like anybody else. I thought you'd have long hair, +and be wild-eyed and ferocious. And your talk sounds like out of a book. +Well that beats me!” + +“Me too!” said the Harvester, lifting his hat. “You don't want any +lilies to-morrow, then?” + +“Yes I do. Medicine or no medicine, I've always liked 'em, and I'm going +to keep on liking them. If you can bring me a good-sized bunch after the +weak-kneed----” + +“Weak-hearted,” corrected the Harvester. + +“Well 'weak-hearted,' then; it's all the same thing. If you've got any +left, as I was saying, you can fetch them to me for the smell.” + +The Harvester laughed all the way down town. There he went to Doctor +Carey's office, examined a directory, and got the names of all the +numbers where he had sold yellow violets. A few questions when the +doctor came in settled all of them, but the flower scheme was better. +Because the yellow were not so plentiful as the white and blue, next day +he added buttercups and cowslips to his store for the dark girls. When +he had rifled his beds for the last time, after three weeks of almost +daily trips to town, and had paid high prices to small boys he set +searching the adjoining woods until no more flowers could be found, he +drove from the outskirts of the city one day toward the hospital, and as +he stopped, down the street came Doctor Carey frantically waving to him. +As the big car slackened, “Come on David, quick! I've seen her!” cried +the doctor. + +The Harvester jumped from the wagon, threw the lines to Belshazzar, and +landed in the panting car. + +“For Heaven's sake where? Are you sure?” + +The car went speeding down the street. A policeman beckoned and cried +after it. + +“It won't do any good to get arrested, Doc,” cautioned the Harvester. + +“Now right along here,” panted Doctor Carey. “Watch both sides sharply. +If I stop you jump out, and tell the blame policemen to get at their +job. The party they are hired to find is right under their noses.” + +The Harvester began to perspire. “Doc, don't you think you should tell +me? Maybe she is in some store. Maybe I could do better on foot.” + +“Shut up!” growled the doctor. “I am doing the best I know.” + +He hurried up the street for blocks and back again, and at last stopped +before a large store and went in. When he returned he drove to the +hospital and together they entered the office. There he turned to the +Harvester. + +“It isn't so hard to understand you now, my boy,” he said. “Shades of +Diana, but she'll be a beauty when she gets a little more flesh and +colour. She came out of Whitlaw's and walked right to the crossing. I +almost could have touched her, but I didn't notice. Two girls passed +before me, and in hurrying, a tall, dark one knocked off one of your +bunches of yellow violets. She glanced at it and laughed, but let +it lay. Then your girl hesitated stooped and picked it up. The crazy +policeman yelled at me to clear the crossing and it didn't hit me for a +half block how tall and white she was and how dark her eyes were. I was +just thinking about her picking up the flowers, and that it was queer +for her to do it, when like a brick it hit me, THAT'S DAVID'S GIRL! I +tried to turn around, but you know what Main Street is in the middle +of the day. And those idiots of policemen! They ordered me on, and I +couldn't turn for a street car coming, so I called to one of them that +the girl we wanted was down the street, and he looked at me like an +addle-pate and said, 'What girl? Move on or you'll get in a jam here.' +You can use me for a football if I don't go back and smash him. Paid him +five dollars myself less than two weeks ago to keep his eyes open. 'TO +KEEP HIS EYES OPEN!'” panted the doctor, shaking his fist at David. “Yes +sir! 'To keep his eyes open!' And he motioned for things to come along, +and so I lost her too.” + +“I think we had better go back to the street,” said the Harvester. + +“Oh, I'd been back and forth along that street for nearly an hour before +I gave up and came here to see if I could find you, and we've hunted it +an hour more! What's the use? She's gone for this time, but by gum, I +saw her! And she was worth seeing!” + +“Did she appear ill to you?” + +The doctor dropped on a chair and threw out his hands hopelessly. + +“This was awful sudden, David,” he said. “I was going along as I told +you, and I noticed her stop and thought she had a good head to wait a +second instead of running in before me, and there came those two girls +right under the car from the other side. I only had a glimpse of her as +she stooped for the flowers. I saw a big braid of hair, but I was half a +block away before I got it all connected, and then came the crush in the +street, and I was blocked.” + +The doctor broke down and wiped his face and expressed his feelings +unrestrainedly. + +“Don't!” said the Harvester patiently. “It's no use to feel so badly, +Doc. I know what you would give to have found her for me. I know you did +all you could. I let her escape me. We will find her yet. It's glorious +news that she's in the city. It gives me heart to hear that. Can't you +just remember if she seemed ill?” + +The doctor meditated. + +“She wasn't the tallest girl I ever saw,” he said slowly, “but she was +the tallest girl to be pretty. She had on a white waist and a gray skirt +and black hat. Her eyes and hair were like you said, and she was plain, +white faced, with a hue that might possibly be natural, and it might be +confinement in bad light and air and poor food. She didn't seem sick, +but she isn't well. There is something the matter with her, but it's not +immediate or dangerous. She appeared like a flower that had got a little +moisture and sprouted in a cellar.” + +“You saw her all right!” said the Harvester, “and I think your diagnosis +is correct too. That's the way she seemed to me. I've thought she needed +sun and air. I told the South Wind so the other day.” + +“Why you blame fool!” cried the doctor. “Is this thing going to your +head? Say, I forgot! There is something else. I traced her in the store. +She was at the embroidery counter and she bought some silk. If she ever +comes again the clerk is going to hold her and telephone me or get her +address if she has to steal it. Oh, we are getting there! We will have +her pretty soon now. You ought to feel better just to know that she is +in town and that I've seen her.” + +“I do!” said the Harvester. “Indeed I do!” + +“It can't be much longer,” said the doctor. “She's got to be located +soon. But those policemen! I wouldn't give a nickel for the lot! I'll +bet she's walked over them for two weeks. If I were you I'd discharge +the bunch. They'd be peacefully asleep if she passed them. If they'd let +me alone, I'd have had her. I could have turned around easily. I've been +in dozens of closer places.” + +“Don't worry! This can't last much longer. She's of and in the city or +she wouldn't have picked up the flowers. Doc, are you sure they were +mine?” + +“Yes. Half the girls have been tricked out in yours the past two weeks. +I can spot them as far as I can see.” + +“Dear Lord, that's getting close!” said the Harvester intensely. “Seems +as if the violets would tell her.” + +“Now cut out flowers talking and the South Wind!” ordered the doctor. +“This is business. The violets prove something all right, though. If she +was in the country, she could gather plenty herself. She is working at +sewing in some room in town, either over a store or in a house. If she +hadn't been starved for flowers she never would have stopped for them on +the street. I could see just a flash of hesitation, but she wanted them +too much. David, one bouquet will go in water and be cared for a week. +Man, it's getting close! This does seem like a link.” + +“Since you say it, possibly I dare agree with you,” said the Harvester. + +“How near are you through with that canvass of yours?” + +“About three fourths.” + +“Well I'd go on with it. After all we have got to find her ourselves. +Those senile policemen!” + +“I am going on with it; you needn't worry about that. But I've got to +change to other flowers. I've stripped the violet beds. There's quite +a crop of berries coming, but they are not ripe yet, and a tragedy to +pick. The pond lilies are just beginning to open by the thousand. The +lake border is blue with sweet-flag that is lovely and the marsh pale +gold with cowslips. The ferns are prime and the woods solid sheets of +every colour of bloom. I believe I'll go ahead with the wild flowers.” + +“I would too! David, you do feel better, don't you?” + +“I certainly do, Doctor. Surely it won't be long now!” + +The Harvester was so hopeful that he whistled and sang on the return to +Medicine Woods, and that night for the first time in many days he sat +long over a candlestick, and took a farewell peep into her room before +he went to bed. + +The next day he worked with all his might harvesting the last remnants +of early spring herbs, in the dry-room and store-house, and on furniture +and candlesticks. + +Then he went back to flower gathering and every day offered bunches of +exquisite wood and field flowers and white and gold water lilies from +door to door. + +Three weeks later the Harvester, perceptibly thin, pale, and worried +entered the office. He sank into a chair and groaned wearily. + +“Isn't this the bitterest luck!” he cried. “I've finished the town. I've +almost walked off my legs. I've sold flowers by the million, but I've +not had a sight of her.” + +“It's been almost a tragedy with me,” said the doctor gloomily. “I've +killed two dogs and grazed a baby, because I was watching the sidewalks +instead of the street. What are you going to do now?” + +“I am going home and bring up the work to the July mark. I am going to +take it easy and rest a few days so I can think more clearly. I don't +know what I'll try next. I've punched up the depot and the policemen +again. When I get something new thought out I'll let you know.” + +Then he began emptying his pockets of money and heaping it on the table, +small coins, bills, big and little. + +“What on earth is that?” + +“That,” said the Harvester, giving the heap a shove of contempt, “that +is the price of my pride and humiliation. That is what it cost people +who allowed me to cheek my way into their homes and rob them, as one +maid said, for my own purposes. Doc, where on earth does all the money +come from? In almost every house I entered, women had it to waste, in +many cases to throw away. I never saw so much paid for nothing in all my +life. That whole heap is from mushrooms and flowers.” + +“What are you piling it there for?” + +“For your free ward. I don't want a penny of it. I wouldn't keep it, not +if I was starving.” + +“Why David! You couldn't compel any one to buy. You offered something +they wanted, and they paid you what you asked.” + +“Yes, and to keep them from buying, and to make the stuff go farther, I +named prices to shame a shark. When I think of that mushroom deal I can +feel my face burn. I've made the search I wanted to, and I am satisfied +that I can't find her that way. I have kept up my work at home between +times. I am not out anything but my time, and it isn't fair to plunder +the city to pay that. Take that cussed money and put it where I'll never +see or hear of it. Do anything you please, except to ask me ever to +profit by a cent. When I wash my hands after touching it for the last +time maybe I'll feel better.” + +“You are a fanatic!” + +“If getting rid of that is being a fanatic, I am proud of the title. You +can't imagine what I've been through!” + +“Can't I though?” laughed the doctor. “In work of that kind you get into +every variety of place; and some of it is new to you. Never mind! No one +can contaminate you. It is the law that only a man can degrade himself. +Knowing things will not harm you. Doing them is a different matter. What +you know will be a protection. What you do ruins----if it is wrong. You +are not harmed, you are only disgusted. Think it over, and in a few days +come back and get your money. It is strictly honest. You earned every +cent of it.” + +“If you ever speak of it again or force it on me I'll take it home and +throw it into the lake.” + +He went after Betsy and slowly drove to Medicine Woods. Belshazzar, +on the seat beside him, recognized a silent, disappointed master +and whimpered as he rubbed the Harvester's shoulder to attract his +attention. + +“This is tough luck, old boy,” said the Harvester. “I had such hopes and +I worked so hard. I suffered in the flesh for every hour of it, and I +failed. Oh but I hate the word! If I knew where she is right now, Bel, +I'd give anything I've got. But there's no use to wail and get sorry +for myself. That's against the law of common decency. I'll take a swim, +sleep it off, straighten up the herbs a little, and go at it again, old +fellow; that's a man's way. She's somewhere, and she's got to be found, +no matter what it costs.” + + + +CHAPTER VIII. BELSHAZZAR'S RECORD POINT + +The Harvester set the neglected cabin in order; then he carefully and +deftly packed all his dried herbs, barks, and roots. Next came carrying +the couch grass, wild alum, and soapwort into the store-room. Then +followed July herbs. He first went to his beds of foxglove, because +the tender leaves of the second year should be stripped from them at +flowering time, and that usually began two weeks earlier; but his bed +lay in a shaded, damp location and the tall bloom stalks were only in +half flower, their pale lavender making an exquisite picture. It paid +to collect those leaves, so the Harvester hastily stripped the amount he +wanted. + +Yarrow was beginning to bloom and he gathered as much as he required, +taking the whole plant. That only brought a few cents a pound, but it +was used entire, so the weight made it worth while. + +Catnip tops and leaves were also ready. As it grew in the open in dry +soil and the beds had been weeded that spring, he could gather great +arm loads of it with a sickle, but he had to watch the swarming bees. He +left the male fern and mullein until the last for different reasons. + +On the damp, cool, rocky hillside, beneath deep shade of big forest +trees, grew the ferns, their long, graceful fronds waving softly. Tree +toads sang on the cool rocks beneath them, chewinks nested under gnarled +roots among them, rose-breasted grosbeaks sang in grape-vines clambering +over the thickets, and Singing Water ran close beside. So the Harvester +left digging these roots until nearly the last, because he so disliked +to disturb the bed. He could not have done it if he had not been forced. +All of the demand for his fern never could be supplied. Of his products +none was more important to the Harvester because this formed the basis +of one of the oldest and most reliable remedies for little children. The +fern had to be gathered with especial care, deteriorated quickly, and no +staple was more subject to adulteration. + +So he kept his bed intact, lifted the roots at the proper time, +carefully cleaned without washing, rapidly dried in currents of hot +air, and shipped them in bottles to the trade. He charged and received +fifteen cents a pound, where careless and indifferent workers got ten. + +On the banks of Singing Water, at the head of the fern bed, the +Harvester stood under a gray beech tree and looked down the swaying +length of delicate green. He was lean and rapidly bronzing, for he +seldom remembered a head covering because he loved the sweep of the wind +in his hair. + +“I hate to touch you,” he said. “How I wish she could see you before I +begin. If she did, probably she would say it was a sin, and then I never +could muster courage to do it at all. I'd give a small farm to know +if those violets revived for her. I was crazy to ask Doc if they were +wilted, but I hated to. If they were from the ones I gathered that +morning they should have been all right.” + +A tree toad dared him to come on; a chipmunk grew saucy as the Harvester +bent to an unloved task. If he stripped the bed as closely as he dared +and not injure it, he could not fill half his orders; so, deftly and +with swift, skilful fingers and an earnest face, he worked. Belshazzar +came down the hill on a rush, nose to earth and began hunting among the +plants. He never could understand why his loved master was so careless +as to go to work before he had pronounced it safe. When the fern bed was +finished, the Harvester took time to make a trip to town, but there +was no word waiting him; so he went to the mullein. It lay on a sunny +hillside beyond the couch grass and joined a few small fields, the only +cleared land of the six hundred acres of Medicine Woods. Over rocks and +little hills and hollows spread the pale, grayish-yellow of the green +leaves, and from five to seven feet arose the flower stems, while +the entire earth between was covered with rosettes of young plants. +Belshazzar went before to give warning if any big rattlers curled in the +sun on the hillside, and after him followed the Harvester cutting leaves +in heaps. That was warm work and he covered his head with a floppy old +straw hat, with wet grass in the crown, and stopped occasionally to +rest. + +He loved that yellow-faced hillside. Because so much of his reaping lay +in the shade and commonly his feet sank in dead leaves and damp earth, +the change was a rest. He cheerfully stubbed his toes on rocks, and +endured the heat without complaint. It appeared to him as if a member of +every species of butterfly he knew wavered down the hillside. There were +golden-brown danais, with their black-striped wings, jetty troilus with +an attempt at trailers, big asterias, velvety black with longer trails +and wide bands of yellow dots. Coenia were most numerous of all and to +the Harvester wonderfully attractive in rich, subdued colours with a +wealth of markings and eye spots. Many small moths, with transparent +wings and noses red as blood, flashed past him hunting pollen. +Goldfinches, intent on thistle bloom, wavered through the air trailing +mellow, happy notes behind them, and often a humming-bird visited the +mullein. On the lake wild life splashed and chattered incessantly, and +sometimes the Harvester paused and stood with arms heaped with leaves, +to interpret some unusually appealing note of pain or anger or some very +attractive melody. The red-wings were swarming, the killdeers busy, and +he thought of the Dream Girl and smiled. + +“I wonder if she would like this,” he mused. + +When the mullein leaves were deep on the trays of the dry-house he began +on the bloom and that was a task he loved. Just to lay off the beds in +swaths and follow them, deftly picking the stamens and yellow petals +from the blooms. These he would dry speedily in hot air, bottle, and +send at once to big laboratories. The listed price was seventy-five +cents a pound, but the beautiful golden bottles of the Harvester always +brought more. The work was worth while, and he liked the location and +gathering of this particular crop: for these reasons he always left +it until the last, and then revelled in the gold of sunshine, bird, +butterfly, and flower. Several days were required to harvest the mullein +and during the time the man worked with nimble fingers, while his brain +was intensely occupied with the question of what to do next in his +search for the Girl. + +When the work was finished, he went to the deep wood to take a peep at +acres of thrifty ginseng, and he was satisfied as he surveyed the big +bed. Long years he had laboured diligently; soon came the reward. He had +not realized it before, but as he studied the situation he saw that +he either must begin this harvest at once or employ help. If he waited +until September he could not gather one third of the crop alone. + +“But the roots will weigh less if I take them now,” he argued, “and I +can work at nothing in comfort until I have located her. I will go on +with my search and allow the ginseng to grow that much heavier. What a +picture! It is folly to disturb this now, for I will lose the seed of +every plant I dig, and that is worth almost as much as the root. It is +a question whether I want to furnish the market with seed, and so raise +competition for my bed. I think, be jabbers, that I'll wait for this +harvest until the seed is ripe, and then bury part of a head where I dig +a root, as the Indians did. That's the idea! The more I grow, the more +money; and I may need considerable for her. One thing I'd like to know: +Are these plants cultivated? All the books quote the wild at highest +rates and all I've ever sold was wild. The start grew here naturally. +What I added from the surrounding country was wild, but through and +among it I've sown seed I bought, and I've tended it with every care. +But this is deep wood and wild conditions. I think I have a perfect +right to so label it. I'll ask Doc. And another thing I'll go through +the woods west of Onabasha where I used to find ginseng, and see if I +can get a little and then take the same amount of plants grown here, +and make a test. That way I can discover any difference before I go to +market. This is my gold mine, and that point is mighty important to me, +so I'll go this very day. I used to find it in the woods northeast of +town and on the land Jameson bought, west. Wonder if he lives there yet. +He should have died of pure meanness long ago. I'll drive to the river +and hunt along the bank.” + +Early the following morning the Harvester went to Onabasha and stopped +at the hospital for news. Finding none, he went through town and several +miles into the country on the other side, to a piece of lowland lying +along the river bank, where he once had found and carried home to reset +a big bed of ginseng. If he could get only a half pound of roots +from there now, they would serve his purpose. He went down the bank, +Belshazzar at his heels, and at last found the place. Many trees had +been cut, but there remained enough for shade; the fields bore the +ragged, unattractive appearance of old. The Harvester smiled grimly +as he remembered that the man who lived there once had charged him for +damage he might do to trees in driving across his woods, and boasted to +his neighbours that a young fool was paying for the privilege of doing +his grubbing. If Jameson had known what the roots he was so anxious to +dispose of brought a pound on the market at that time, he would have +been insane with anger. So the Harvester's eyes were dancing with fun +and a wry grin twisted his lips as he clambered over the banks of +the recently dredged river, and looked at its pitiful condition and +straight, muddy flow. + +“Appears to match the remainder of the Jameson property,” he said. “I +don't know who he is or where he came from, but he's no farmer. Perhaps +he uses this land to corral the stock he buys until he can sell it +again.” + +He went down the embankment and began to search for the location where +he formerly had found the ginseng. When he came to the place he stood +amazed, for from seed, roots, and plants he had missed, the growth had +sprung up and spread, so that at a rapid estimate the Harvester thought +it contained at least five pounds, allowing for what it would shrink on +account of being gathered early. He hesitated an instant, and thought +of coming later; but the drive was long and the loss would not amount +to enough to pay for a second trip. About taking it, he never thought +at all. He once had permission from the owner to dig all the shrubs, +bushes, and weeds he desired from that stretch of woods, and had paid +for possible damages that might occur. As he bent to the task there did +come a fleeting thought that the patch was weedless and in unusual shape +for wild stuff. Then, with swift strokes of his light mattock, he lifted +the roots, crammed them into his sack, whistled to Belshazzar, and going +back to the wagon, drove away. Reaching home he washed the ginseng, +and spread it on a tray to dry. The first time he wanted the mattock +he realized that he had left it lying where he had worked. It was an +implement that he had directed a blacksmith to fashion to meet his +requirements. No store contained anything half so useful to him. He had +worked with it for years and it just suited him, so there was nothing to +do but go back. Betsy was too tired to return that day, so he planned +to dig his ginseng with something else, finish his work the following +morning, and get the mattock in the afternoon. + +“It's like a knife you've carried for years, or a gun,” muttered the +Harvester. “I actually don't know how to get along without it. What made +me so careless I can't imagine. I never before in my life did a trick +like that. I wonder if I hurried a little. I certainly was free to +take it. He always wanted the stuff dug up. Of all the stupid tricks, +Belshazzar, that was the worst. Now Betsy and a half day of wasted time +must pay for my carelessness. Since I have to go, I'll look a little +farther. Maybe there is more. Those woods used to be full of it.” + +According to this programme, the next afternoon the Harvester again +walked down the embankment of the mourning river and through the ragged +woods to the place where the ginseng had been. He went forward, stepping +lightly, as men of his race had walked the forest for ages, swerving to +avoid boughs, and looking straight ahead. Contrary to his usual custom +of coming to heel in a strange wood, Belshazzar suddenly darted around +the man and took the path they had followed the previous day. The animal +was performing his office in life; he had heard or scented something +unusual. The Harvester knew what that meant. He looked inquiringly at +the dog, glanced around, and then at the earth. Belshazzar proceeded +noiselessly at a rapid pace over the leaves: Suddenly the master saw the +dog stop in a stiff point. Lifting his feet lightly and straining his +eyes before him, the Harvester passed a spice thicket and came in line. + +For one second he stood as rigid as Belshazzar. The next his right arm +shot upward full length, and began describing circles, his open +palm heavenward, and into his face leapt a glorified expression of +exultation. Face down in the rifled ginseng bed lay a sobbing girl. Her +frame was long and slender, a thick coil of dark hair; bound her head. A +second more and the Harvester bent and softly patted Belshazzar's head. +The beast broke point and looked up. The man caught the dog's chin in a +caressing grip, again touched his head, moved soundless lips, and waved +toward the prostrate figure. The dog hesitated. The Harvester made the +same motions. Belshazzar softly stepped over the leaves, passed around +the feet of the girl, and paused beside her, nose to earth, softly +sniffing. + +In one moment she came swiftly to a sitting posture. + +“Oh!” she cried in a spasm of fright. + +Belshazzar reached an investigating nose and wagged an eager tail. + +“Why you are a nice friendly dog!” said the trembling voice. + +He immediately verified the assertion by offering his nose for a kiss. +The girl timidly laid a hand on his head. + +“Heaven knows I'm lonely enough to kiss a dog,” she said, “but suppose +you belong to the man who stole my ginseng, and then ran away so fast he +forgot his----his piece he digged with.” + +Belshazzar pressed closer. + +“I am just killed, and I don't care whose dog you are,” sobbed the girl. + +She threw her arms around Belshazzar's neck and laid her white face +against his satiny shoulder. The Harvester could endure no more. He took +a step forward, his face convulsed with pain. + +“Please don't!” he begged. “I took your ginseng. I'll bring it back +to-morrow. There wasn't more than twenty-five or thirty dollars' worth. +It doesn't amount to one tear.” + +The girl arose so quickly, the Harvester could not see how she did it. +With a startled fright on her face, and the dark eyes swimming, she +turned to him in one long look. Words rolled from the lips of the man in +a jumble. Behind the tears there was a dull, expressionless blue in the +girl's eyes and her face was so white that it appeared blank. He began +talking before she could speak, in an effort to secure forgiveness +without condemnation. + +“You see, I grow it for a living on land I own, and I've always gathered +all there was in the country and no one cared. There never was enough in +one place to pay, and no other man wanted to spend the time, and so +I've always felt free to take it. Every one knew I did, and no one ever +objected before. Once I paid Henry Jameson for the privilege of cleaning +it from these woods. That was six or seven years ago, and it didn't +occur to me that I wasn't at liberty to dig what has grown since. I'll +bring it back at once, and pay you for the shrinkage from gathering it +too early. There won't be much over six pounds when it's dry. Please, +please don't feel badly. Won't you trust me to return it, and make good +the damage I've done?” + +The face of the Harvester was eager and his tones appealing, as he +leaned forward trying to make her understand. + +“Certainly!” said the Girl as she bent to pat the dog, while she +dried her eyes under cover of the movement. “Certainly! It can make no +difference!” + +But as the Harvester drew a deep breath of relief, she suddenly +straightened to full height and looked straight at him. + +“Oh what is the use to tell a pitiful lie!” she cried. “It does make a +difference! It makes all the difference in the world! I need that money! +I need it unspeakably. I owe a debt I must pay. What----what did I +understand you to say ginseng is worth?” + +“If you will take a few steps,” said the Harvester, “and make yourself +comfortable on this log in the shade, I will tell you all I know about +it.” + +The girl walked swiftly to the log indicated, seated herself, and +waited. The Harvester followed to a respectful distance. + +“I can't tell to an ounce what wet roots would weigh,” he said as easily +as he could command his voice to speak with the heart in him beating +wildly, “and of course they lose greatly in drying; but I've handled +enough that I know the weight I carried home will come to six pounds at +the very least. Then you must figure on some loss, because I dug +this before it really was ready. It does not reach full growth until +September, and if it is taken too soon there is a decrease in weight. I +will make that up to you when I return it.” + +The troubled eyes were gazing on his face intently, and the Harvester +studied them as he talked. + +“You would think, then, there would be all of six pounds? + +“Yes,” said the Harvester, “closer eight. When I replace the shrinkage +there is bound to be over seven.” + +“And how much did I understand you to say it brought a pound?” + +“That all depends,” answered he. “If you cure it yourself, and dry it +too much, you lose in weight. If you carry it in a small lot to the +druggists of Onabasha, probably you will not get over five dollars for +it.” + +“Five?” + +It was a startled cry. + +“How much did you expect?” asked the Harvester gently. + +“Uncle Henry said he thought he could get fifty cents a pound for all I +could find.” + +“If your Uncle Henry has learned at last that ginseng is a salable +article he should know something about the price also. Will you tell +me what he said, and how you came to think of gathering roots for the +market?” + +“There were men talking beneath the trees one Sunday afternoon about old +times and hunting deer, and they spoke of people who made money long ago +gathering roots and barks, and they mentioned one man who lived by it +yet.” + +“Was his name Langston?” + +“Yes, I remember because I liked the name. I was so eager to earn +something, and I can't leave here just now because Aunt Molly is very +ill, so the thought came that possibly I could gather stuff worth money, +after my work was finished. I went out and asked questions. They said +nothing brought enough to make it pay any one, except this ginseng +plant, and the Langston man almost had stripped the country. Then uncle +said he used to get stuff here, and he might have got some of that. I +asked what it was like, so they told me and I hunted until I found that, +and it seemed a quantity to me. Of course I didn't know it had to be +dried. Uncle took a root I dug to a store, and they told him that it +wasn't much used any more, but they would give him fifty cents a pound +for it. What MAKES you think you can get five dollars?” + +“With your permission,” said the Harvester. + +He seated himself on the log, drew from his pocket an old pamphlet, +and spreading it before her, ran a pencil along the line of a list of +schedule prices for common drug roots and herbs. Because he understood, +his eyes were very bright, and his voice a trifle crisp. A latent anger +springing in his breast was a good curb for his emotions. He was closely +acquainted with all of the druggists of Onabasha, and he knew that not +one of them had offered less than standard prices for ginseng. + +“The reason I think so,” he said gently, “is because growing it is the +largest part of my occupation, and it was a staple with my father before +me. I am David Langston, of whom you heard those men speak. Since I was +a very small boy I have lived by collecting herbs and roots, and I get +more for ginseng than anything else. Very early I tired of hunting other +people's woods for herbs, so I began transplanting them to my own. I +moved that bed out there seven years ago. What you found has grown since +from roots I overlooked and seeds that fell at that time. Now do you +think I am enough of an authority to trust my word on the subject?” + +There was not a change of expression on her white face. + +“You surely should know,” she said wearily, “and you could have no +possible object in deceiving me. Please go on.” + +“Any country boy or girl can find ginseng, gather, wash, and dry it, and +get five dollars a pound. I can return yours to-morrow and you can cure +and take it to a druggist I will name you, and sell for that. But if you +will allow me to make a suggestion, you can get more. Your roots are now +on the trays of an evaporating house. They will dry to the proper degree +desired by the trade, so that they will not lose an extra ounce in +weight, and if I send them with my stuff to big wholesale houses I deal +with, they will be graded with the finest wild ginseng. It is worth more +than the cultivated and you will get closer eight dollars a pound for it +than five. There is some speculation in it, and the market fluctuates: +but, as a rule, I sell for the highest price the drug brings, and, at +times when the season is very dry, I set my own prices. Shall I return +yours or may I cure and sell it, and bring you the money?” + +“How much trouble would that make you?” + +“None. The work of digging and washing is already finished. All that +remains is to weigh it and make a memorandum of the amount when I sell. +I should very much like to do it. It would be a comfort to see the money +go into your hands. If you are afraid to trust me, I will give you the +names of several people you can ask concerning me the next time you go +to the city.” + +She looked at him steadily. + +“Never mind that,” she said. “But why do you offer to do it for a +stranger? It must be some trouble, no matter how small you represent it +to be.” + +“Perhaps I am going to pay you eight and sell for ten.” + +“I don't think you can. Five sounds fabulous to me. I can't believe +that. If you wanted to make money you needn't have told me you took it. +I never would have known. That isn't your reason!” + +“Possibly I would like to atone for those tears I caused,” said the +Harvester. + +“Don't think of that! They are of no consequence to any one. You needn't +do anything for me on that account.” + +“Don't search for a reason,” said the Harvester, in his gentlest tones. +“Forget that feature of the case. Say I'm peculiar, and allow me to do +it because it would be a pleasure. In close two weeks I will bring you +the money. Is it a bargain?” + +“Yes, if you care to make it.” + +“I care very much. We will call that settled.” + +“I wish I could tell you what it will mean to me,” said the Girl. + +“If you only would,” plead the Harvester. + +“I must not burden a stranger with my troubles.” + +“But if it would make the stranger so happy!” + +“That isn't possible. I must face life and bear what it brings me +alone.” + +“Not unless you choose,” said the Harvester. “That is, if you will +pardon me, a narrow view of life. It cuts other people out of the joy of +service. If you can't tell me, would you trust a very lovely and gentle +woman I could bring to you?” + +“No more than you. It is my affair; I must work it out myself.” + +“I am mighty sorry,” said the Harvester. “I believe you err in that +decision. Think it over a day or so, and see if two heads are not better +than one. You will realize when this ginseng matter is settled that you +profited by trusting me. The same will hold good along other lines, if +you only can bring yourself to think so. At any rate, try. Telling a +trouble makes it lighter. Sympathy should help, if nothing can be done. +And as for money, I can show you how to earn sums at least worth your +time, if you have nothing else you want to do.” + +The Girl bent toward him. + +“Oh please do tell me!” she cried eagerly. “I've tried and tried to find +some way ever since I have been here, but every one else I have met says +I can't, and nothing seems to be worth anything. If you only would tell +me something I could do!” + +“If you will excuse my saying so,” said the Harvester, “it appeals to +me that ease, not work, is the thing you require. You appear extremely +worn. Won't you let me help you find a way to a long rest first?” + +“Impossible!” cried the Girl. “I know I am white and appear ill, but +truly I never have been sick in all my life. I have been having trouble +and working too much, but I'll be better soon. Believe me, there is no +rest for me now. I must earn the money I owe first.” + +“There is a way, if you care to take it,” said the Harvester. “In my +work I have become very well acquainted with the chief surgeon of the +city hospital. Through him I happen to know that he has a free bed in +a beautiful room, where you could rest until you are perfectly strong +again, and that room is empty just now. When you are well, I will tell +you about the work.” + +As she arose the Harvester stood, and tall and straight she faced him. + +“Impossible!” she said. “It would be brutal to leave my aunt. I cannot +pay to rest in a hospital ward, and I will not accept charity. If you +can put me in the way of earning, even a few cents a day, at anything +I could do outside the work necessary to earn my board here, it would +bring me closer to happiness than anything else on earth.” + +“What I suggest is not impossible,” said the Harvester softly. “If you +will go, inside an hour a sweet and gentle lady will come for you and +take you to ease and perfect rest until you are strong again. I will see +that your aunt is cared for scrupulously. I can't help urging you. It is +a crime to talk of work to a woman so manifestly worn as you are.” + +“Then we will not speak of it,” said the Girl wearily. “It is time for +me to go, anyway. I see you mean to be very kind, and while I don't in +the least understand it, I do hope you feel I am grateful. If half +you say about the ginseng comes true, I can make a payment worth while +before I had hoped to. I have no words to tell you what that will mean +to me.” + +“If this debt you speak of were paid, could you rest then?” + +“I could lie down and give up in peace, and I think I would.” + +“I think you wouldn't,” said the Harvester, “because you wouldn't be +allowed. There are people in these days who make a business of securing +rest for the tired and over weary, and they would come and prevent that +if you tried it. Please let me make another suggestion. If you owe money +to some one you feel needs it and the debt is preying on you, let's pay +it.” + +He drew a small check-book from his pocket and slipped a pen from a +band. + +“If you will name the amount and give me the address, you shall be free +to go to the rest I ask for you inside an hour.” + +Then slowly from head to foot she looked at him. + +“Why?” + +“Because your face and attitude clearly indicate that you are over +tired. Believe me, you do yourself wrong if you refuse.” + +“In what way would changing creditors rest me?” + +“I thought perhaps you were owing some one who needed the money. I am +not a rich man, but I have no one save myself to provide for and I have +funds lying idle that I would be glad to use for you. If you make a +point of it, when you are rested, you can repay me.” + +“My creditor needs the money, but I should prefer owing him rather than +a perfect stranger. What you suggest would help me not at all. I must go +now.” + +“Very well,” said the Harvester. “If you will tell me whom to ask for +and where you live, I will come to see you to-morrow and bring you +some pamphlets. With these and with a little help you soon can earn +any amount a girl is likely to owe. It will require but a little while. +Where can I find you?” + +The Girl hesitated and for the first time a hint of colour flushed her +cheek. But courage appeared to be her strong point. + +“Do you live in this part of the country?” she asked. + +“I live ten miles from here, east of Onabasha,” he answered. + +“Do you know Henry Jameson?” + +“By sight and by reputation.” + +“Did you ever know anything kind or humane of him?” + +“I never did.” + +“My name is Ruth Jameson. At present I am indebted to him for the only +shelter I have. His wife is ill through overwork and worry, and I am +paying for my bed and what I don't eat, principally, by attempting her +work. It scarcely would be fair to Uncle Henry to say that I do it. I +stagger around as long as I can stand, then I sit through his abuse. He +is a pleasant man. Please don't think I am telling you this to harrow +your sympathy further. The reason I explain is because I am driven. If I +do not, you will misjudge me when I say that I only can see you here. +I understood what you meant when you said Uncle Henry should have known +the price of ginseng if he knew it was for sale. He did. He knew what +he could get for it, and what he meant to pay me. That is one of his +original methods with a woman. If he thought I could earn anything worth +while, he would allow me, if I killed myself doing it; and then he would +take the money by force if necessary. So I can meet you here only. I can +earn just what I may in secret. He buys cattle and horses and is away +from home much of the day, and when Aunt Molly is comfortable I can have +a few hours.” + +“I understand,” said the Harvester. “But this is an added hardship. +Why do you remain? Why subject yourself to force and work too heavy for +you?” + +“Because his is the only roof on earth where I feel I can pay for all I +get. I don't care to discuss it, I only want you to say you understand, +if I ask you to bring the pamphlets here and tell me how I can earn +money.” + +“I do,” said the Harvester earnestly, although his heart was hot in +protest. “You may be very sure that I will not misjudge you. Shall I +come at two o'clock to-morrow, Miss Jameson?” + +“If you will be so kind.” + +The Harvester stepped aside and she passed him and crossing the rifled +ginseng patch went toward a low brown farmhouse lying in an unkept +garden, beside a ragged highway. The man sat on the log she had vacated, +held his head between his hands and tried to think, but he could not for +big waves of joy that swept over him when he realized that at last he +had found her, had spoken with her, and had arranged a meeting for the +morrow. + +“Belshazzar,” he said softly, “I wish I could leave you to protect +her. Every day you prove to me that I need you, but Heaven knows her +necessity is greater. Bel, she makes my heart ache until it feels like +jelly. There seems to be just one thing to do. Get that fool debt paid +like lightning, and lift her out of here quicker than that. Now, we will +go and see Doc, and call off the watch-dogs of the law. Ahead of them, +aren't we, Belshazzar? There is a better day coming; we feel it in our +bones, don't we, old partner?” + +The Harvester started through the woods on a rush, and as the exercise +warmed his heart, he grew wonderfully glad. At last he had found her. +Uncertainty was over. If ever a girl needed a home and care he thought +she did. He was so jubilant that he felt like crying aloud, shouting for +joy, but by and by the years of sober repression made their weight felt, +so he climbed into the wagon and politely requested Betsy to make her +best time to Onabasha. Betsy had been asked to make haste so frequently +of late that she at first almost doubted the sanity of her master, the +law of whose life, until recently, had been to take his time. Now he +appeared to be in haste every day. She had become so accustomed to +being urged to hurry that she almost had developed a gait; so at the +Harvester's suggestion she did her level best to Onabasha and the +hospital, where she loved to nose Belshazzar and rest near the watering +tap under a big tree. + +The Harvester went down the hall and into the office on the run, and his +face appeared like a materialized embodiment of living joy. Doctor Carey +turned at his approach and then bounded half way across the room, his +hands outstretched. + +“You've found her, David!” + +The Harvester grabbed the hand of his friend and stood pumping it up and +down while he gulped at the lump in his throat, and big tears squeezed +from his eyes, but he could only nod his proud head. + +“Found her!” exulted Doctor Carey. “Really found her! Well that's great! +Sit down and tell me, boy! Is she sick, as we feared? Did you only see +her or did you get to talk with her?” + +“Well sir,” said the Harvester, choking back his emotions, “you remember +that ginseng I told you about getting on the old Jameson place last +night. To-day, I learned I'd lost that hand-made mattock I use most, and +I went back for it, and there she was.” + +“In the country?” + +“Yes sir!” + +“Well why didn't we think of it before?” + +“I suppose first we would have had to satisfy ourselves that she wasn't +in town, anyway.” + +“Sure! That would be the logical way to go at it! And so you found her?” + +“Yes sir, I found her! Just Belshazzar and I! I was going along on my +way to the place, and he ran past me and made a stiff point, and when I +came up, there she was!” + +“There she was?” + +“Yes sir; there she was!” + +They shook hands again. + +“Then of course you spoke to her.” + +“Yes I spoke to her.” + +“Were you pleased?” + +“With her speech and manner?----yes. But, Doc, if ever a woman needed +everything on earth!” + +“Well did you get any kind of a start made?” + +“I couldn't do so very much. I had to go a little slow for fear of +frightening her, but I tried to get her to come here and she won't until +a debt she owes is paid, and she's in no condition to work.” + +“Got any idea how much it is?” + +“No, but it can't be any large sum. I tried to offer to pay it, but she +had no hesitation in telling me she preferred owing a man she knew to a +stranger.” + +“Well if she is so particular, how did she come to tell you first thing +that she was in debt?” + +The Harvester explained. + +“Oh I see!” said the doctor. “Well you'll have to baby her along with +the idea that she is earning money and pay her double until you get that +off her mind, and while you are at it, put in your best licks, my boy; +perk right up and court her like a house afire. Women like it. All of +them do. They glory in feeling that a man is crazy about them.” + +“Well I'm insane enough over her,” said the Harvester, “but I'd hate +like the nation for her to know it. Seems as if a woman couldn't respect +such an addle-pate as I am lately.” + +“Don't you worry about that,” advised the doctor. “Just you make love to +her. Go at it in the good old-fashioned way.” + +“But maybe the 'good old-fashioned way' isn't my way.” + +“What's the difference whose way it is, if it wins?” + +“But Kipling says: 'Each man makes love his own way!'” + +“I seem to have heard you mention that name be fore,” said the doctor. +“Do you regard him as an authority?” + +“I do!” said the Harvester. “Especially when he advises me after my own +heart and reason. Miss Jameson is not a silly girl. She's a woman, +and twenty-four at least. I don't want her to care for a trick or a +pretence. I do want her to love me. Not that I am worth her attention, +but because she needs some strong man fearfully, and I am ready and more +'willing' than the original Barkis. But, like him, I have to let her +know it in my way, and court her according to the promptings of my +heart.” + +“You deceive yourself!” said the doctor flatly. “That's all bosh! Your +tongue says it for the satisfaction of your ears, and it does sound +well. You will court her according to your ideas of the conventions, as +you understand them, and strictly in accordance with what you consider +the respect due her. If you had followed the thing you call the +'promptings of your heart,' you would have picked her up by main force +and brought her to my best ward, instead of merely suggesting it and +giving up when she said no. If you had followed your heart, you would +have choked the name and amount out of her and paid that devilish debt. +You walk away in a case like that, and then have the nerve to come here +and prate to me about following your heart. I'll wager my last dollar +your heart is sore because you were not allowed to help her; but on the +proposition that you followed its promptings I wouldn't stake a penny. +That's all tommy-rot!” + +“It is,” agreed the Harvester. “Utter! But what can a man do?” + +“I don't know what you can do! I'd have paid that debt and brought her +to the hospital.” + +“I'll go and ask Mrs. Carey about your courtship. I want her help on +this, anyway. I can pick up Miss Jameson and bring her here if any man +can, but she is nursing a sick woman who depends solely on her for care. +She is above average size, and she has a very decided mind of her own. +I don't think you would use force and do what you think best for her, if +you were in my place. You would wait until you understood the situation +better, and knew that what you did was for the best, ultimately.” + +“I don't know whether I would or not. One thing is sure: I'm mighty glad +you have found her. May I tell my wife?” + +“Please do! And ask her if I may depend on her if I need a woman's help. +Now I'll call off the valiant police and go home and take a good, sound +sleep. Haven't had many since I first saw her.” + +So Betsy trotted down the valley, up the embankment, crossed the +railroad, over the levee across Singing Water, and up the hill to the +cabin. As they passed it, the Harvester jumped from the wagon, tossed +the hitching strap to Belshazzar, and entered. He walked straight to her +door, unlocked it, and uncovering, went inside. Softly he passed from +piece to piece of the furniture he had made for her, and then surveyed +the walls and floor. + +“It isn't half good enough,” he said, “but it will have to answer until +I can do better. Surely she will know I tried and care for that, anyway. +I wonder how long it will take me to get her here. Oh, if I only could +know she was comfortable and happy! Happy! She doesn't appear as if she +ever had heard that word. Well this will be a good place to teach her. +I've always enjoyed myself here. I'm going to have faith that I can win +her and make her happy also. When I go to the stable to do my work for +the night if I could know she was in this cabin and glad of it, and if +I could hear her down here singing like a happy care-free girl, I'd +scarcely be able to endure the joy of it.” + + + +CHAPTER IX. THE HARVESTER GOES COURTING + +“She is on Henry Jameson's farm, four miles west of Onabasha,” said the +Harvester, as he opened his eyes next morning, and laid a caressing hand +on Belshazzar's head. “At two o'clock we are going to see her, and we +are going to prolong the visit to the ultimate limit, so we should make +things count here before we start.” + +He worked in a manner that accomplished much. There seemed no end to +his energy that morning. Despatching the usual routine, he gathered +the herbs that were ready, spread them on the shelves of the dry-house, +found time to do several things in the cabin, and polish a piece of +furniture before he ate his lunch and hitched Betsy to the wagon. +He also had recovered his voice, and talked almost incessantly as he +worked. When it neared time to start he dressed carefully. He stood +before his bookcase and selected several pamphlets published by the +Department of Agriculture. He went to his beds and gathered a large +arm load of plants. Then he was ready to make his first trip to see the +Dream Girl, but it never occurred to him that he was going courting. + +He had decided fully that there would be no use to try to make love to +a girl manifestly so ill and in trouble. The first thing, it appeared to +him, was to dispel the depression, improve the health, and then do the +love making. So, in the most business-like manner possible and without +a shade of embarrassment, the Harvester took his herbs and books and +started for the Jameson woods. At times as he drove along he espied +something that he used growing beside the road and stopped to secure a +specimen. + +He came down the river bank and reached the ginseng bed at half-past +one. He was purposely early. He laid down his books and plants, +and rolled the log on which she sat the day before to a more shaded +location, where a big tree would serve for a back rest. He pulled away +brush and windfalls, heaped dry brown leaves, and tramped them down +for her feet. Then he laid the books on the log, the arm load of plants +beside them, and went to the river to wash his soiled hands. + +Belshazzar's short bark told him the Girl was coming, and between the +trees he saw the dog race to meet her and she bent to stroke his +head. She wore the same dress and appeared even paler and thinner. The +Harvester hurried up the bank, wiping his hands on his handkerchief. + +“Glad to see you!” he greeted her casually. “I've fixed you a seat +with a back rest to-day. Don't be frightened at the stack of herbs. You +needn't gather all of those. They are only suggestions. They are just +common roadside plants that have some medicinal value and are worth +collecting. Please try my davenport.” + +“Thank you!” she said as she dropped on the log and leaned her head +against the tree. It appeared as if her eyes closed a few seconds in +spite of her, and while they were shut the Harvester looked steadily +and intently on a face of exquisite beauty, but so marred by pallor and +lines of care that search was required to recognize just how handsome +she was, and if he had not seen her in perfection in the dream the +Harvester might have missed glorious possibilities. To bring back that +vision would be a task worth while was his thought. With the first faint +quiver of an eyelash the Harvester took a few steps and bent over a +plant, and as he did so the Girl's eyes followed him. + +He appeared so tall and strong, so bronzed by summer sun and wind, his +face so keen and intense, that swift fear caught her heart. Why was he +there? Why should he take so much trouble for her? With difficulty she +restrained herself from springing up and running away. Turning with +the plant in his hand the Harvester saw the panic in her eyes, and +it troubled his heart. For an instant he was bewildered, then he +understood. + +“I don't want you to work when you are not able,” he said in his most +matter-of-fact voice, “but if you still think that you are, I'll be very +glad. I need help just now, more than I can tell you, and there seem to +be so few people who can be trusted. Gathering stuff for drugs is really +very serious business. You see, I've a reputation to sustain with some +of the biggest laboratories in the country, not to mention the fact +that I sometimes try compounding a new remedy for some common complaint +myself. I rather take pride in the fact that my stuff goes in so fresh +and clean that I always get anywhere from three to ten cents a pound +above the listed prices for it. I want that money, but I want an +unbroken record for doing a job right and being square and careful, much +more.” + +He thought the appearance of fright was fading, and a tinge of interest +taking its place. She was looking straight at him, and as he talked he +could see her summoning her tired forces to understand and follow him, +so he continued: + +“One would think that as medicines are required in cases of life and +death, collectors would use extreme caution, but some of them are +criminally careless. It's a common thing to gather almost any fern +for male fern; to throw in anything that will increase weight, to wash +imperfectly, and commit many other sins that lie with the collector; +beyond that I don't like to think. I suppose there are men who +deliberately adulterate pure stuff to make it go farther, but when it +comes to drugs, I scarcely can speak of it calmly. I like to do a thing +right. I raise most of my plants, bushes, and herbs. I gather exactly +in season, wash carefully if water dare be used, clean them otherwise +if not, and dry them by a hot air system in an evaporator I built +purposely. Each package I put up is pure stuff, clean, properly dried, +and fresh. If I caught any man in the act of adulterating any of it I'm +afraid he would get hurt badly--and usually I am a peaceable man. I +am explaining this to show how very careful you must be to keep things +separate and collect the right plants if you are going to sell stuff to +me. I am extremely particular.” + +The Girl was leaning toward him, watching his face, and hers was slowly +changing. She was deeply interested, much impressed, and more at ease. +When the Harvester saw he had talked her into confidence he crossed +the leaves, and sitting on the log beside her, picked up the books and +opened one. + +“Oh I will be careful,” said the Girl. “If you will trust me to collect +for you, I will undertake only what I am sure I know, and I'll do +exactly as you tell me.” + +“There are a dozen things that bring a price ranging from three to +fifteen cents a pound, that are in season just now. I suppose you would +like to begin on some common, easy things, that will bring the most +money.” + +Without a breath of hesitation she answered, “I will commence on +whatever you are short of and need most to have.” + +The heart of the Harvester gave a leap that almost choked him, for +he was vividly conscious of a broken shoe she was hiding beneath her +skirts. He wanted to say “thank you,” but he was afraid to, so he turned +the leaves of the book. + +“I am working just now on mullein,” he said. + +“Oh I know mullein,” she cried, with almost a hint of animation in her +voice. “The tall, yellow flower stem rising from a circle of green felt +leaves!” + +“Good!” said the Harvester. “What a pretty way to describe it! Do you +know any more plants?” + +“Only a few! I had a high-school course in botany, but it was all about +flower and leaf formation, nothing at all of what anything was good for. +I also learned a few, drawing them for leather and embroidery designs.” + +“Look here!” cried the Harvester. “I came with an arm load of herbs and +expected to tell you all about foxglove, mullein, yarrow, jimson, +purple thorn apple, blessed thistle, hemlock, hoarhound, lobelia, and +everything in season now; but if you already have a profession, why do +you attempt a new one? Why don't you go on drawing? I never saw anything +so stupid as most of the designs from nature for book covers and +decorations, leather work and pottery. They are the same old subjects +worked over and over. If you can draw enough to make original copies, +I can furnish you with flowers, vines, birds, and insects, new, unused, +and of exquisite beauty, for every month in the year. I've looked into +the matter a little, because I am rather handy with a knife, and I carve +candlesticks from suitable pieces of wood. I always have trouble getting +my designs copied; securing something new and unusual, never! If you can +draw just well enough to reproduce what you see, gathering drugs is too +slow and tiresome. What you want to do is to reproduce the subjects I +will bring, and I'll buy what I want in my work, and sell the remainder +at the arts and crafts stores for you. Or I can find out what they pay +for such designs at potteries and ceramic factories. You have no time to +spend on herbs, when you are in the woods, if you can draw.” + +“I am surely in the woods,” said the Girl, “and I know I can copy +correctly. I often made designs for embroidery and leather for the shop +mother and I worked for in Chicago.” + +“Won't they buy them of you now?” + +“Undoubtedly.” + +“Do they pay anything worth while?” + +“I don't know how their prices compare with others. One place was all I +worked for. I think they pay what is fair.” + +“We will find out,” said the Harvester promptly. + +“I----I don't think you need waste the time,” faltered the Girl. “I had +better gather the plants for a while at least.” + +“Collecting crude drug material is not easy,” said the Harvester. +“Drawing may not be either, but at least you could sit while you work, +and it should bring you more money. Besides, I very much want a moth +copied for a candlestick I am carving. Won't you draw that for me? I +have some pupae cases and the moths will be out any day now. If I'd +bring you one, wouldn't you just make a copy?” + +The Girl gripped her hands together and stared straight ahead of her for +a second, then she turned to him. + +“I'd like to,” she said, “but I have nothing to work with. In Chicago +they furnished my material at the shop and I drew the design and was +paid for the pattern. I didn't know there would be a chance for anything +like that here. I haven't even proper pencils.” + +“Then the way for you to do this is to strip the first mullein plants +you see of the petals. I will pay you seventy-five cents a pound for +them. By the time you get a few pounds I can have material you need +for drawing here and you can go to work on whatever flowers, vines, and +things you can find in the woods, with no thanks to any one.” + +“I can't see that,” said the Girl. “It would appear to me that I would +be under more obligations than I could repay, and to a stranger.” + +“I figure it this way,” said the Harvester, watching from the corner +of his eye. “I can sell at good prices all the mullein flowers I can +secure. You collect for me, I buy them. You can use drawing tools; I +get them for you, and you pay me with the mullein or out of the ginseng +money I owe you. You already have that coming, and it's just as much +yours as it will be ten days from now. You needn't hesitate a second +about drawing on it, because I am in a hurry for the moth pattern. +I find time to carve only at night, you see. As for being under +obligations to a stranger, in the first place all the debt would be on +my side. I'd get the drugs and the pattern I want; and, in the second +place, I positively and emphatically refuse to be a stranger. It would +be so much better to be mutual helpers and friends of the kind worth +having; and the sooner we begin, the sooner we can work together to +good advantage. Get that stranger idea out of your head right now, and +replace it with thoughts of a new friend, who is willing”--the Harvester +detected panic in her eyes and ended casually--“to enter a partnership +that will be of benefit to both of us. Partners can't be strangers, you +know,” he finished. + +“I don't know what to think,” said the Girl. + +“Never bother your head with thinking,” advised the Harvester with an +air of large wisdom. “It is unprofitable and very tiring. Any one can +see that you are too weary now. Don't dream of such a foolish thing as +thinking. Don't worry over motives and obligations. Say to yourself, +'I'll enter this partnership and if it brings me anything good, I'm that +much ahead. If it fails, I have lost nothing.' That's the way to look at +it.” + +Then before she could answer he continued: “Now I want all the mullein +bloom I can get. You'll see the yellow heads everywhere. Strip the +petals and bring them here, and I'll come for them every day. They must +go on the trays as fresh as possible. On your part, we will make out the +order now.” + +He took a pencil and notebook from his pocket. + +“You want drawing pencils and brushes; how many, what make and size?” + +The Girl hesitated for a moment as if struggling to decide what to do; +then she named the articles. + +“And paper?” + +He wrote that down, and asked if there was more. + +“I think,” he said, “that I can get this order filled in Onabasha. The +art stores should keep these things. And shouldn't you have water-colour +paper and some paint?” + +Then there was a flash across the white face. + +“Oh if I only could!” she cried. “All my life I have been crazy for a +box of colour, but I never could afford it, and of course, I can't now. +But if this splendid plan works, and I can earn what I owe, then maybe I +can.” + +“Well this 'splendid plan' is going to 'work,' don't you bother about +that,” said the Harvester. “It has begun working right now. Don't worry +a minute. After things have gone wrong for a certain length of time, +they always veer and go right a while as compensation. Don't think of +anything save that you are at the turning. Since it is all settled that +we are to be partners, would you name me the figures of the debt that +is worrying you? Don't, if you mind. I just thought perhaps we could get +along better if I knew. Is it----say five hundred dollars?” + +“Oh dear no!” cried the Girl in a panic. “I never could face that! It is +not quite one hundred, and that seems big as a mountain to me.” + +“Forget it!” he cried. “The ginseng will pay more than half; that I +know. I can bring you the cash in a little over a week.” + +She started to speak, hesitated, and at last turned to him. + +“Would you mind,” she said, “if I asked you to keep it until I can find +a way to go to town? It's too far to walk and I don't know how to send +it. Would I dare put it in a letter?” + +“Never!” said the Harvester. “You want a draft. That money will be too +precious to run any risks. I'll bring it to you and you can write a note +and explain to whom you want it paid, and I'll take it to the bank for +you and get your draft. Then you can write a letter, and half your worry +will be over safely.” + +“It must be done in a sure way,” said the Girl. “If I knew I had the +money to pay that much on what I owe, and then lost it, I simply could +not endure it. I would lie down and give up as Aunt Molly has.” + +“Forget that too!” said the Harvester. “Wipe out all the past that has +pain in it. The future is going to be beautifully bright. That little +bird on the bush there just told me so, and you are always safe when you +trust the feathered folk. If you are going to live in the country +any length of time, you must know them, and they will become a great +comfort. Are you planning to be here long?” + +“I have no plans. After what I saw Chicago do to my mother I would +rather finish life in the open than return to the city. It is horrible +here, but at least I'm not hungry, and not afraid----all the time.” + +“Gracious Heaven!” cried the Harvester. “Do you mean to say that you are +afraid any part of the time? Would you kindly tell me of whom, and why?” + +“You should know without being told that when a woman born and reared +in a city, and all her life confined there, steps into the woods for the +first time, she's bound to be afraid. The last few weeks constitute my +entire experience with the country, and I'm in mortal fear that snakes +will drop from trees and bushes or spring from the ground. Some places I +think I'm sinking, and whenever a bush catches my skirts it seems as +if something dreadful is reaching up for me; there is a possibility of +horror lurking behind every tree and----” + +“Stop!” cried the Harvester. “I can't endure it! Do you mean to tell me +that you are afraid here and now?” + +She met his eyes squarely. + +“Yes,” she said. “It almost makes me ill to sit on this log without +taking a stick and poking all around it first. Every minute I think +something is going to strike me in the back or drop on my head.” + +The Harvester grew very white beneath the tan, and that developed a +nice, sickly green complexion for him. + +“Am I part of your tortures?” he asked tersely. + +“Why shouldn't you be?” she answered. “What do I know of you or your +motives or why you are here?” + +“I have had no experience with the atmosphere that breeds such an +attitude in a girl.” + +“That is a thing for which to thank Heaven. Undoubtedly it is gracious +to you. My life has been different.” + +“Yet in mortal terror of the woods, and probably equal fear of me, you +are here and asking for work that will keep you here.” + +“I would go through fire and flood for the money I owe. After that debt +is paid----” + +She threw out her hands in a hopeless gesture. The Harvester drew forth +a roll of bills and tossed them into her lap. + +“For the love of mercy take what you need and pay it,” he said. “Then +get a floor under your feet, and try, I beg of you, try to force +yourself to have confidence in me, until I do something that gives you +the least reason for distrusting me.” + +She picked up the money and gave it a contemptuous whirl that landed it +at his feet. + +“What greater cause of distrust could I have by any possibility than +just that?” she asked. + +The Harvester arose hastily, and taking several steps, he stood with +folded arms, his back turned. The Girl sat watching him with wide eyes, +the dull blue plain in their dusky depths. When he did not speak, she +grew restless. At last she slowly arose and circling him looked into his +face. It was convulsed with a struggle in which love and patience fought +for supremacy over honest anger. As he saw her so close, his lips drew +apart, and his breath came deeply, but he did not speak. He merely stood +and looked at her, and looked; and she gazed at him as if fascinated, +but uncomprehending. + +“Ruth!” + +The call came roaring up the hill. The Girl shivered and became paler. + +“Is that your uncle?” asked the Harvester. + +She nodded. + +“Will you come to-morrow for your drawing materials?” + +“Yes.” + +“Will you try to believe that there is absolutely nothing, either +underfoot or overhead, that will harm you?” + +“Yes.” + +“Will you try to think that I am not a menace to public safety, and that +I would do much to help you, merely because I would be glad to be of +service?” + +“Yes.” + +“Will you try to cultivate the idea that there is nothing in all this +world that would hurt you purposely?” + +“Ruth!” came a splitting scream in gruff man-tones, keyed in deep anger. + +“That SOUNDS like it!” said the Girl, and catching up her skirts she ran +through the woods, taking a different route toward the house. + +The Harvester sat on the log and tried to think; but there are times +when the numbed brain refuses to work, so he really sat and suffered. +Belshazzar whimpered and licked his hands, and at last the man arose +and went with the dog to the wagon. As they came through Onabasha, Betsy +turned at the hospital corner, but the Harvester pulled her around and +drove toward the country. Not until they crossed the railroad did he +lift his head and then he drew a deep breath as if starved for pure air +and spoke. “Not to-day Betsy! I can't face my friends just now. Someway +I am making an awful fist of things. Everything I do is wrong. She no +more trusts me than you would a rattlesnake, Belshazzar; and from all +appearance she takes me to be almost as deadly. What must have been her +experiences in life to ingrain fear and distrust in her soul at that +rate? I always knew I was not handsome, but I never before regarded my +appearance as alarming. And I 'fixed up,' too!” + +The Harvester grinned a queer little twist of a grin that pulled and +distorted his strained face. “Might as well have gone with a week's +beard, a soiled shirt, and a leer! And I've always been as decent as I +knew! What's the reward for clean living anyway, if the girl you love +strikes you like that?” + +Belshazzar reached across and kissed him. The Harvester put his arm +around the dog. In the man's disappointment and heart hunger he leaned +his head against the beast and said, “I've always got you to love and +protect me, anyway, Belshazzar. Maybe the man who said a dog was a man's +best friend was right. You always trusted me, didn't you Bel? And you +never regretted it but once, and that wasn't my fault. I never did it! +If I did, I'm getting good and well paid for it. I'd rather be kicked +until all the ribs of one side are broken, Bel, than to swallow the dose +she just handed me. I tell you it was bitter, lad! What am I going to +do? Can't you help me, Bel?” + +Belshazzar quivered in anxiety to offer the comfort he could not speak. + +“Of course you are right! You always are, Bel!” said the Harvester. “I +know what you are trying to tell me. Sure enough, she didn't have any +dream. I am afraid she had the bitterest reality. She hasn't been loving +a vision of me, working and searching for me, and I don't mean to her +what she does to me. Of course I see that I must be patient and bide my +time. If there is anything in 'like begetting like' she is bound to care +for me some day, for I love her past all expression, and for all she +feels I might as well save my breath. But she has got to awake some day, +Bel. She can make up her mind to that. She can't see 'why.' Over and +over! I wonder what she would think if I'd up and tell her 'why' with no +frills. She will drive me to it some day, then probably the shock will +finish her. I wonder if Doc was only fooling or if he really would do +what he said. It might wake her up, anyway, but I'm dubious as to the +result. How Uncle Henry can roar! He sounded like a fog horn. I'd love +to try my muscle on a man like that. No wonder she is afraid of him, if +she is of me. Afraid! Well of all things I ever did expect, Belshazzar, +that is the limit.” + + + +CHAPTER X. THE CHIME OF THE BLUE BELLS + +The Harvester finished his evening work and went to examine the cocoons. +Many of the moths had emerged and flown, but the luna cases remained +in the bottom of the box. As he stood looking at them one moved and he +smiled. + +“I'd give something if you would come out and be ready to work on by +to-morrow afternoon,” he said. “Possibly you would so interest her that +she would forget her fear of me. I'd like mighty well to take you +along, because she might care for you, and I do need the pattern for my +candlestick. Believe I'll lay you in a warmer place.” + +The first thing the next morning the Harvester looked and found the open +cocoon and the wet moth clinging by its feet to a twig he had placed for +it. + +“Luck is with me!” he exulted. “I'll carry you to her and be mighty +careful what I say, and maybe she will forget about the fear.” + +All the forenoon he cut and spread boneset, saffron, and hemlock on the +trays to dry. At noon he put on a fresh outfit, ate a hasty lunch, and +drove to Onabasha. He carried the moth in a box, and as he started he +picked up a rake. He went to an art store and bought the pencils and +paper she had ordered. He wanted to purchase everything he saw for her, +but he was fast learning a lesson of deep caution. If he took more than +she ordered, she would worry over paying, and if he refused to +accept money, she would put that everlasting “why” at him again. The +water-colour paper and paint he could not forego. He could make a desire +to have the moth coloured explain those, he thought. + +Then he went to a furniture store and bought several articles, and +forgetting his law against haste, he drove Betsy full speed to the +river. He was rather heavily ladened as he went up the bank, and it +was only one o'clock. There was an hour. He rolled away the log, raked +together and removed the leaves to the ground. He tramped the earth +level and spread a large cheap porch rug. On this he opened and placed +a little folding table and chair. On the table he spread the pencils, +paper, colour box and brushes, and went to the river to fill the water +cup. Then he sat on the log he had rolled to one side and waited. After +two hours he arose and crept as close the house as he could through the +woods, but he could not secure a glimpse of the Girl. He went back and +waited an hour more, and then undid his work and removed it. When he +came to the moth his face was very grim as he lifted the twig and helped +the beautiful creature to climb on a limb. “You'll be ready to fly in +a few hours,” he said. “If I keep you in a box you will ruin your wings +and be no suitable subject, and put you in a cyanide jar I will not. I +am hurt too badly myself. I wonder if what Doc said was the right way! +It's certainly a temptation.” + +Then he went home; and again Betsy veered at the hospital, and once more +the Harvester explained to her that he did not want to see the doctor. +That evening and the following forenoon were difficult, but the +Harvester lived through them, and in the afternoon went back to the +woods, spread his rug, and set up the table. Only one streak of luck +brightened the gloom in his heart. A yellow emperor had emerged in the +night, and now occupied the place of yesterday's luna. She never need +know it was not the one he wanted, and it would make an excuse for the +colour box. + +He was watching intently and saw her coming a long way off. He noticed +that she looked neither right nor left, but came straight as if walking +a bridge. As she reached the place she glanced hastily around and then +at him. The Harvester forgave her everything as he saw the look of +relief with which she stepped upon the carpet. Then she turned to him. + +“I won't have to ask 'why' this time,” she said. “I know that you did it +because I was baby enough to tell what a coward I am. I'm sure you +can't afford it, and I know you shouldn't have done it, but oh, what a +comfort! If you will promise never to do any such expensive, foolish, +kind thing again, I'll say thank you this time. I couldn't come +yesterday, because Aunt Molly was worse and Uncle Henry was at home all +day.” + +“I supposed it was something like that,” said the Harvester. + +She advanced and handed him the roll of bills. + +“I had a feeling you would be reckless,” she said. “I saw it in your +face, so I came back as soon as I could steal away, and sure enough, +there lay your money and the books and everything. I hid them in the +thicket, so they will be all right. I've almost prayed it wouldn't rain. +I didn't dare carry them to the house. Please take the money. I haven't +time to argue about it or strength, but of course I can't possibly use +it unless I earn it. I'm so anxious to see the pencils and paper.” + +The Harvester thrust the money into his pocket. The Girl went to the +table, opened and spread the paper, and took out the pencils. + +“Is my subject in here?” she touched the colour box. + +“No, the other.” + +“Is it alive? May I open it?” + +“We will be very careful at first,” said the Harvester. “It only left +its case in the night and may fly. When the weather is so warm the wings +develop rapidly. Perhaps if I remove the lid----” + +He took off the cover, exposing a big moth, its lovely, pale yellow +wings, flecked with heliotrope, outspread as it clung to a twig in the +box. The Girl leaned forward. + +“What is it?” she asked. + +“One of the big night moths that emerge and fly a few hours in June.” + +“Is this what you want for your candlestick?” + +“If I can't do better. There is one other I prefer, but it may not come +at a time that you can get it right.” + +“What do you mean by 'right'?” + +“So that you can copy it before it wants to fly.” + +“Why don't you chloroform and pin it until I am ready?” + +“I am not in the business of killing and impaling exquisite creatures +like that.” + +“Do you mean that if I can't draw it when it is just right you will let +it go?” + +“I do.” + +“Why?” + +“I told you why.” + +“I know you said you were not in the business, but why wouldn't you take +only one you really wanted to use?” + +“I would be afraid,” replied the Harvester. + +“Afraid? You!” + +“I must have a mighty good reason before I kill,” said the man. “I +cannot give life; I have no right to take it away. I will let my +statement stand. I am afraid.” + +“Of what please?” + +“An indefinable something that follows me and makes me suffer if I am +wantonly cruel.” + +“Is there any particular pose in which you want this bird placed?” + +“Allow me to present you to the yellow emperor, known in the books as +eagles imperialis,” he said. “I want him as he clings naturally and life +size.” + +She took up a pencil. + +“If you don't mind,” said the Harvester, “would you draw on this other +paper? I very much want the colour, also, and you can use it on this. +I brought a box along, and I'll get you water. I had it all ready +yesterday.” + +“Did you have this same moth?” + +“No, I had another.” + +“Did you have the one you wanted most?” + +“Yes----but it's no difference.” + +“And you let it go because I was not here?” + +“No. It went on account of exquisite beauty. If kept in confinement it +would struggle and break its wings. You see, that one was a delicate +green, where this is yellow, plain pale blue green, with a lavender rib +here, and long curled trailers edged with pale yellow, and eye spots +rimmed with red and black.” + +As the Harvester talked he indicated the points of difference with a +pencil he had picked up; now he laid it down and retreated beyond the +limits of the rug. + +“I see,” said the Girl. “And this is colour?” + +She touched the box. + +“A few colours, rather,” said the Harvester. “I selected enough to fill +the box, with the help of the clerk who sold them to me. If they are not +right, I have permission to return and exchange them for anything you +want.” + +With eager fingers she opened the box, and bent over it a face filled +with interest. + +“Oh how I've always wanted this! I scarcely can wait to try it. I do +hope I can have it for my very own. Was it quite expensive?” + +“No. Very cheap!” said the Harvester. “The paper isn't worth mentioning. +The little, empty tin box was only a few cents, and the paints differ +according to colour. Some appear to be more than others. I was surprised +that the outfit was so inexpensive.” + +A skeptical little smile wavered on the Girl's face as she drew her +slender fingers across the trays of bright colour. + +“If one dared accept your word, you really would be a comfort,” she +said, as she resolutely closed the box, pushed it away, and picked up a +pencil. + +“If you will take the trouble to inquire at the banks, post office, +express office, hospital or of any druggist in Onabasha, you will +find that my word is exactly as good as my money, and taken quite as +readily.” + +“I didn't say I doubted you. I have no right to do that until I feel +you deceive me. What I said was 'dared accept,' which means I must not, +because I have no right. But you make one wonder what you would do if +you were coaxed and asked for things and led by insinuations.” + +“I can tell you that,” said the Harvester. “It would depend altogether +on who wanted anything of me and what they asked. If you would undertake +to coax and insinuate, you never would get it done, because I'd see what +you needed and have it at hand before you had time.” + +The Girl looked at him wonderingly. + +“Now don't spring your recurrent 'why' on me,” said the Harvester. “I'll +tell you 'why' some of these days. Just now answer me this question: Do +you want me to remain here or leave until you finish? Which way would +you be least afraid?” + +“I am not at all afraid on the rug and with my work,” she said. “If you +want to hunt ginseng go by all means.” + +“I don't want to hunt anything,” said the Harvester. “But if you are +more comfortable with me away, I'll be glad to go. I'll leave the dog +with you.” + +He gave a short whistle and Belshazzar came bounding to him. The +Harvester stepped to the Girl's side, and dropping on one knee, he drew +his hand across the rug close to her skirts. + +“Right here, Belshazzar,” he said. “Watch! You are on guard, Bel.” + +“Well of all names for a dog!” exclaimed the Girl. “Why did you select +that?” + +“My mother named my first dog Belshazzar, and taught me why; so each of +the three I've owned since have been christened the same. It means 'to +protect' and that is the office all of them perform; this one especially +has filled it admirably. Once I failed him, but he never has gone back +on me. You see he is not a particle afraid of me. Every step I take, he +is at my heels.” + +“So was Bill Sikes' dog, if I remember.” + +The Harvester laughed. + +“Bel,” he said, “if you could speak you'd say that was an ugly one, +wouldn't you?” + +The dog sprang up and kissed the face of the man and rubbed a loving +head against his breast. + +“Thank you!” said the Harvester. “Now lie down and protect this woman as +carefully as you ever watched in your life. And incidentally, Bel, +tell her that she can't exterminate me more than once a day, and the +performance is accomplished for the present. I refuse to be a willing +sacrifice. 'So was Bill Sikes' dog!' What do you think of that, Bel?” + +The Harvester arose and turned to go. + +“What if this thing attempts to fly?” she asked. + +“Your pardon,” said the Harvester. “If the emperor moves, slide the lid +over the box a few seconds, until he settles and clings quietly again, +and then slowly draw it away. If you are careful not to jar the table +heavily he will not go for hours yet.” + +Again he turned. + +“If there is no danger, why do you leave the dog?” + +“For company,” said the Harvester. “I thought you would prefer an animal +you are not afraid of to a man you are. But let me tell you there is no +necessity for either. I know a woman who goes alone and unafraid through +every foot of woods in this part of the country. She has climbed, crept, +and waded, and she tells me she never saw but two venomous snakes this +side of Michigan. Nothing ever dropped on her or sprang at her. She +feels as secure in the woods as she does at home.” + +“Isn't she afraid of snakes?” + +“She dislikes snakes, but she is not afraid or she would not risk +encountering them daily.” + +“Do you ever find any?” + +“Harmless little ones, often. That is, Bel does. He is always nosing for +them, because he understands that I work in the earth. I think I have +encountered three dangerous ones in my life. I will guarantee you will +not find one in these woods. They are too open and too much cleared.” + +“Then why leave the dog?” + +“I thought,” said the Harvester patiently, “that your uncle might have +turned in some of his cattle, or if pigs came here the dog could chase +them away.” + +She looked at him with utter panic in her face. + +“I am far more afraid of a cow than a snake!” she cried. “It is so much +bigger!” + +“How did you ever come into these woods alone far enough to find the +ginseng?” asked the Harvester. “Answer me that!” + +“I wore Uncle Henry's top boots and carried a rake, and I suffered +tortures,” she replied. + +“But you hunted until you found what you wanted, and came again to keep +watch on it?” + +“I was driven--simply forced. There's no use to discuss it!” + +“Well thank the Lord for one thing,” said the Harvester. “You didn't +appear half so terrified at the sight of me as you did at the mere +mention of a cow. I have risen inestimably in my own self-respect. +Belshazzar, you may pursue the elusive chipmunk. I am going to guard +this woman myself, and please, kind fates, send a ferocious cow this +way, in order that I may prove my valour.” + +The Girl's face flushed slightly, and she could not restrain a laugh. +That was all the Harvester hoped for and more. He went beyond the edge +of the rug and sat on the leaves under a tree. She bent over her work +and only bird and insect notes and occasionally Belshazzar's excited +bark broke the silence. The Harvester stretched on the ground, his eyes +feasting on the Girl. Intensely he watched every movement. If a squirrel +barked she gave a nervous start, so precipitate it seemed as if it must +hurt. If a windfall came rattling down she appeared ready to fly in +headlong terror in any direction. At last she dropped her pencil and +looked at him helplessly. + +“What is it?” he asked. + +“The silence and these awful crashes when one doesn't know what is +coming,” she said. + +“Will it bother you if I talk? Perhaps the sound of my voice will help?” + +“I am accustomed to working when people talk, and it will be a comfort. +I may be able to follow you, and that will prevent me from thinking. +There are dreadful things in my mind when they are not driven out. +Please talk! Tell me about the herbs you gathered this morning.” + +The Harvester gave the Girl one long look as she bent over her work. He +was vividly conscious of the graceful curves of her little figure, the +coil of dark, silky hair, softly waving around her temples and neck, +and when her eyes turned in his direction he knew that it was only the +white, drawn face that restrained him. He was almost forced to tell her +how he loved and longed for her; about the home he had prepared; of +a thousand personal interests. Instead, he took a firm grip and said +casually, “Foxglove harvest is over. This plant has to be taken when the +leaves are in second year growth and at bloom time. I have stripped my +mullein beds of both leaves and flowers. I finished a week ago. Beyond +lies a stretch of Parnassus grass that made me think of you, it was so +white and delicate. I want you to see it. It will be lovely in a few +weeks more.” + +“You never had seen me a week ago.” + +“Oh hadn't I?” said the Harvester. “Well maybe I dreamed about you then. +I am a great dreamer. Once I had a dream that may interest you some +day, after you've overcome your fear of me. Now this bed of which I was +speaking is a picture in September. You must arrange to drive home with +me and see it then.” + +“For what do you sell foxglove and mullein?” + +“Foxglove for heart trouble, and mullein for catarrh. I get ten cents a +pound for foxglove leaves and five for mullein and from seventy-five to +a dollar for flowers of the latter, depending on how well I preserve the +colour in drying them. They must be sealed in bottles and handled with +extreme care.” + +“Then if I wasn't too childish to be out picking them, I could be +earning seventy-five cents a pound for mullein blooms?” + +“Yes,” said the Harvester, “but until you learned the trick of stripping +them rapidly you scarcely could gather what would weigh two pounds a +day, when dried. Not to mention the fact that you would have to stand +and work mostly in hot sunshine, because mullein likes open roads and +fields and sunny hills. Now you can sit securely in the shade, and in +two hours you can make me a pattern of that moth, for which I would pay +a designer of the arts and crafts shop five dollars, so of course you +shall have the same.” + +“Oh no!” she cried in swift panic. “You were charged too much! It isn't +worth a dollar, even!” + +“On the contrary the candlestick on which I shall use it will be +invaluable when I finish it, and five is very little for the cream of my +design. I paid just right. You can earn the same for all you can do. +If you can embroider linen, they pay good prices for that, too and wood +carving, metal work, or leather things. May I see how you are coming +on?” + +“Please do,” she said. + +The Harvester sprang up and looked over the Girl's shoulder. He could +not suppress an exclamation of delight. + +“Perfect!” he cried. “You can surpass their best drafting at the shop! +Your fortune is made. Any time you want to go to Onabasha you can make +enough to pay your board, dress you well, and save something every week. +You must leave here as soon as you can manage it. When can you go?” + +“I don't know,” she said wearily. “I'd hate to tell you how full +of aches I am. I could not work much just now, if I had the best +opportunities in the world. I must grow stronger.” + +“You should not work at anything until you are well,” he said. “It is a +crime against nature to drive yourself. Why will you not allow----” + +“Do you really think, with a little practice, I can draw designs that +will sell?” + +The Harvester picked up the sheet. The work was delicate and exact. He +could see no way to improve it. + +“You know it will sell,” he said gently, “because you already have sold +such work.” + +“But not for the prices you offer.” + +“The prices I name are going to be for NEW, ORIGINAL DESIGNS. I've got a +thousand in my head, that old Mother Nature shows me in the woods and on +the water every day.” + +“But those are yours; I can't take them.” + +“You must,” said the Harvester. “I only see and recognize studies; I +can't materialize them, and until they are drawn, no one can profit by +them. In this partnership we revolutionize decorative art. There are +actually birds besides fat robins and nondescript swallows. The crane +and heron do not monopolize the water. Wild rose and golden-rod are not +the only flowers. The other day I was gathering lobelia. The seeds +are used in tonic preparations. It has an upright stem with flowers +scattered along it. In itself it is not much, but close beside it always +grows its cousin, tall bell-flower. As the name indicates, the flowers +are bell shape and I can't begin to describe their grace, beauty, and +delicate blue colour. They ring my strongest call to worship. My work +keeps me in the woods so much I remain there for my religion also. +Whenever I find these flowers I always pause for a little service of my +own that begins by reciting these lines: + + “'Neath cloistered boughs, each floral bell that swingeth + And tolls its perfume on the passing air, + Makes Sabbath in the fields, and ever ringeth + A call to prayer.” + + +“Beautiful!” said the Girl. + +“It's mighty convenient,” explained the Harvester. “By my method, you +see, you don't have to wait for your day and hour of worship. Anywhere +the blue bell rings its call it is Sunday in the woods and in your +heart. After I recite that, I pray my prayer.” + +“Go on!” said the Girl. “This is no place to stop.” + +“It is always one and the same prayer, and there are only two lines of +it,” said the Harvester. “It runs this way---- Let me take your pencil +and I will write it for you.” + +He bent over her shoulder, and traced these lines on a scrap of the +wrapping paper: + + “Almighty Evolver of the Universe: + Help me to keep my soul and body clean, + And at all times to do unto others as I would be done by. + Amen.” + + +The Girl took the slip and sat studying it; then she raised her eyes to +his face curiously, but with a tinge of awe in them. + +“I can see you standing over a blue, bell-shaped flower reciting those +exquisite lines and praying this wonderful prayer,” she said. “Yesterday +you allowed the moth you were willing to pay five dollars for a drawing +of, to go, because you wouldn't risk breaking its wings. Why you are +more like a woman!” + +A red stream crimsoned the Harvester's face. + +“Well heretofore I have been considered strictly masculine,” he said. +“To appreciate beauty or to try to be just commonly decent is not +exclusively feminine. You must remember there are painters, poets, +musicians, workers in art along almost any line you could mention, and +no one calls them feminine, but there is one good thing if I am. You +need no longer fear me. If you should see me, muck covered, grubbing in +the earth or on a raft washing roots in the lake, you would not consider +me like a woman.” + +“Would it be any discredit if I did? I think not. I merely meant that +most men would not see or hear the blue bell at all----and as for the +poem and prayer! If the woods make a man with such fibre in his soul, I +must learn them if they half kill me.” + +“You harp on death. Try to forget the word.” + +“I have faced it for months, and seen it do its grinding worst very +recently to the only thing on earth I loved or that loved me. I have no +desire to forget! Tell me more about the plants.” + +“Forgive me,” said the Harvester gently. “Just now I am collecting +catnip for the infant and nervous people, hoarhound for colds and +dyspepsia, boneset heads and flowers for the same purpose. There is a +heavy head of white bloom with wonderful lacy leaves, called yarrow. I +take the entire plant for a tonic and blessed thistle leaves and flowers +for the same purpose.” + +“That must be what I need,” interrupted the Girl. “Half the time I +believe I have a little fever, but I couldn't have dyspepsia, because I +never want anything to eat; perhaps the tonic would make me hungry.” + +“Promise me you will tell that to the doctor who comes to see your aunt, +and take what he gives you.” + +“No doctor comes to see my aunt. She is merely playing lazy to get out +of work. There is nothing the matter with her.” + +“Then why----” + +“My uncle says that. Really, she could not stand and walk across a room +alone. She is simply worn out.” + +“I shall report the case,” said the Harvester instantly. + +“You better not!” said the Girl. “There must be a mistake about you +knowing my uncle. Tell me more of the flowers.” + +The Harvester drew a deep breath and continued: + +“These I just have named I take at bloom time; next month come purple +thorn apple, jimson weed, and hemlock.” + +“Isn't that poison?” + +“Half the stuff I handle is.” + +“Aren't you afraid?” + +“Terribly,” said the Harvester in laughing voice. “But I want the money, +the sick folk need the medicine, and I drink water.” + +The Girl laughed also. + +“Look here!” said the Harvester. “Why not tell me just as closely as +you can about your aunt, and let me fix something for her; or if you are +afraid to trust me, let me have my friend of whom I spoke yesterday.” + +“Perhaps I am not so much afraid as I was,” said the Girl. “I wish I +could! How could I explain where I got it and I wonder if she would take +it.” + +“Give it to her without any explanation,” said the Harvester. “Tell her +it will make her stronger and she must use it. Tell me exactly how she +is, and I will fix up some harmless remedies that may help, and can do +no harm.” + +“She simply has been neglected, overworked, and abused until she has +lain down, turned her face to the wall, and given up hope. I think it is +too late. I think the end will come soon. But I wish you would try. I'll +gladly pay----” + +“Don't!” said the Harvester. “Not for things that grow in the woods and +that I prepare. Don't think of money every minute.” + +“I must,” she said with forced restraint. “It is the price of life. +Without it one suffers----horribly----as I know. What other plants do +you gather?” + +“Saffron,” answered the Harvester. “A beautiful thing! You must see it. +Tall, round stems, lacy, delicate leaves, big heads of bright yellow +bloom, touched with colour so dark it appears black--one of the +loveliest plants that grows. You should see my big bed of it in a week +or two more. It makes a picture.” + +The words recalled him to the Girl. He turned to study her. He forgot +his commission and chafed at conventions that prevented his doing what +he saw was required so urgently. Fearing she would notice, he gazed away +through the forest and tried to think, to plan. + +“You are not making noise enough,” she said. + +So absorbed was the Harvester he scarcely heard her. In an attempt to +obey he began to whistle softly. A tiny goldfinch in a nest of thistle +down and plant fibre in the branching of a bush ten feet above him stuck +her head over the brim and inquired, “P'tseet?” “Pt'see!” answer the +Harvester. That began the duet. Before the question had been asked and +answered a half dozen times a catbird intruded its voice and hearing a +reply came through the bushes to investigate. A wren followed and became +very saucy. From----one could not see where, came a vireo, and almost at +the same time a chewink had something to say. + +Instantly the Harvester answered. Then a blue jay came chattering to +ascertain what all the fuss was about, and the Harvester carried on +a conversation that called up the remainder of the feathered tribe. A +brilliant cardinal came tearing through the thicket, his beady black +eyes snapping, and demanded to know if any one were harming his mate, +brooding under a wild grape leaf in a scrub elm on the river embankment. +A brown thrush silently slipped like a snake between shrubs and trees, +and catching the universal excitement, began to flirt his tail and utter +a weird, whistling cry. + +With one eye on the bird, and the other on the Girl sitting in amazed +silence, the Harvester began working for effect. He lay quietly, but in +turn he answered a dozen birds so accurately they thought their mates +were calling, and closer and closer they came. An oriole in orange and +black heard his challenge, and flew up the river bank, answering +at steady intervals for quite a time before it was visible, and in +resorting to the last notes he could think of a quail whistled “Bob +White” and a shitepoke, skulking along the river bank, stopped and +cried, “Cowk, cowk!” + +At his limit of calls the Harvester changed his notes and whistled and +cried bits of bird talk in tone with every mellow accent and inflection +he could manage. Gradually the excitement subsided, the birds flew and +tilted closer, turned their sleek heads, peered with bright eyes, and +ventured on and on until the very bravest, the wren and the jay, were +almost in touch. Then, tired of hunting, Belshazzar came racing and the +little feathered people scattered in precipitate flight. + +“How do you like that kind of a noise?” inquired the Harvester. + +The Girl drew a deep breath. + +“Of course you know that was the most exquisite sight I ever saw,” she +said. “I never shall forget it. I did not think there were that many +different birds in the whole world. Of all the gaudy colours! And they +came so close you could have reached out and touched them.” + +“Yes,” said the Harvester calmly. “Birds are never afraid of me. At +Medicine Woods, when I call them like that, many, most of them, in fact, +eat from my hand. If you ever have looked at me enough to notice bulgy +pockets, they are full of wheat. These birds are strangers, but I'll +wager you that in a week I can make them take food from me. Of course, +my own birds know me, because they are around every day. It is much +easier to tame them in winter, when the snow has fallen and food is +scarce, but it only takes a little while to win a bird's confidence at +any season.” + +“Birds don't know what there is to be afraid of,” she said. + +“Your pardon,” said the Harvester, “but I am familiar with them, and +that is not correct. They have more to fear than human beings. No one is +going to kill you merely to see if he can shoot straight enough to hit. +Your life is not in danger because you have magnificent hair that some +woman would like for an ornament. You will not be stricken out in a +flash because there are a few bits of meat on your frame some one +wants to eat. No one will set a seductive trap for you, and, if you are +tempted to enter it, shut you from freedom and natural diet, in a cage +so small you can't turn around without touching bars. You are in a +secure and free position compared with the birds. I also have observed +that they know guns, many forms of traps, and all of them decide by the +mere manner of a man's passing through the woods whether he is a friend +or an enemy. Birds know more than many people realize. They do not +always correctly estimate gun range, they are foolishly venturesome +at times when they want food, but they know many more things than most +people give them credit for understanding. The greatest trouble with the +birds is they are too willing to trust us and be friendly, so they are +often deceived.” + +“That sounds as if you were right,” said the Girl. + +“I am of the woods, so I know I am,” answered the Harvester. + +“Will you look at this now?” + +He examined the drawing closely. + +“Where did you learn?” he inquired. + +“My mother. She was educated to her finger tips. She drew, painted, +played beautifully, sang well, and she had read almost all the best +books. Besides what I learned at high school she taught me all I know. +Her embroidery always brought higher prices than mine, try as I might. I +never saw any one else make such a dainty, accurate little stitch as she +could.” + +“If this is not perfect, I don't know how to criticise it. I can and +will use it in my work. But I have one luna cocoon remaining and I would +give ten dollars for such a drawing of the moth before it flies. It may +open to-night or not for several days. If your aunt should be worse +and you cannot come to-morrow and the moth emerges, is there any way in +which I could send it to you?” + +“What could I do with it?” + +“I thought perhaps you could take a piece of paper and the pencils with +you, and secure an outline in your room. It need not be worked up with +all the detail in this. Merely a skeleton sketch would do. Could I leave +it at the house or send it with some one?” + +“No! Oh no!” she cried. “Leave it here. Put it in a box in the bushes +where I hid the books. What are you going to do with these things?” + +“Hide them in the thicket and scatter leaves over them.” + +“What if it rains?” + +“I have thought of that. I brought a few yards of oilcloth to-day and +they will be safe and dry if it pours.” + +“Good!” she said. “Then if the moth comes out you bring it, and if I +am not here, put it under the cloth and I will run up some time in the +afternoon. But if I were you, I would not spread the rug until you know +if I can remain. I have to steal every minute I am away, and any day +uncle takes a notion to stay at home I dare not come.” + +“Try to come to-morrow. I am going to bring some medicine for your +aunt.” + +“Put it under the cloth if I am not here; but I will come if I can. I +must go now; I have been away far too long.” + +The Harvester picked up one of the drug pamphlets, laid the drawing +inside it, and placed it with his other books. Then he drew out his +pocket book and laid a five-dollar bill on the table and began folding +up the chair and putting away the things. The Girl looked at the money +with eager eyes. + +“Is that honestly what you would pay at the arts and crafts place?” + +“It is the customary price for my patterns.” + +“And are you sure this is as good?” + +“I can bring you some I have paid that for, and let you see for yourself +that it is better.” + +“I wish you would!” she cried eagerly. “I need that money, and I would +like to have it dearly, if I really have earned it, but I can't touch it +if I have not.” + +“Won't you accept my word?” + +“No. I will see the other drawings first, and if I think mine are as +good, I will be glad to take the money to-morrow.” + +“What if you can't come?” + +“Put them under the oilcloth. I watch all the time and I think Uncle +Henry has trained even the boys so they don't play in the river on +his land. I never see a soul here; the woods, house, and everything is +desolate until he comes home and then it is like----” she paused. + +“I'll say it for you,” said the Harvester promptly. “Then it is like +hell.” + +“At its worst,” supplemented the Girl. Taking pencils and a sheet of +paper she went swiftly through the woods. Before she left the shelter +of the trees, the Harvester saw her busy her hands with the front of +her dress, and he knew that she was concealing the drawing material. The +colour box was left, and he said things as he put it with the chair and +table, covered them with the rug and oilcloth, and heaped on a layer of +leaves. + +Then he drove to the city and Betsy turned at the hospital corner +with no interference. He could face his friend that day. Despite +all discouragements he felt reassured. He was progressing. Means of +communication had been established. If she did not come, he could leave +a note and tell her if the moth had not emerged and how sorry he was to +have missed seeing her. + +“Hello, lover!” cried Doctor Carey as the Harvester entered the office. +“Are you married yet?” + +“No. But I'm going to be,” said the Harvester with confidence. + +“Have you asked her?” + +“No. We are getting acquainted. She is too close to trouble, too ill, +and too worried over a sick relative for me to intrude myself; it would +be brutal, but it's a temptation. Doc, is there any way to compel a man +to provide medical care for his wife?” + +“Can he afford it?” + +“Amply. Anything! Worth thousands in land and nobody knows what in +money. It's Henry Jameson.” + +“The meanest man I ever knew. If he has a wife it's a marvel she has +survived this long. Won't he provide for her?” + +“I suppose he thinks he has when she has a bed to lie on and a roof to +cover her. He won't supply food she can eat and medicine. He says she is +lazy.” + +“What do you think?” + +“I quote Miss Jameson. She says her aunt is slowly dying from overwork +and neglect.” + +“David, doesn't it seem pretty good, when you say 'Miss Jameson'?” + +“Loveliest sound on earth, except the remainder of it.” + +“What's that?” + +“Ruth!” + +“Jove! That is a beautiful name. Ruth Langston. It will go well, won't +it?” + +“Music that the birds, insects, Singing Water, the trees, and the breeze +can't ever equal. I'm holding on with all my might, but it's tough, Doc. +She's in such a dreadful place and position, and she needs so much. She +is sick. Can't you give me a prescription for each of them?” + +“You just bet I can,” said the doctor, “if you can engineer their taking +them.” + +“I suppose you'd hold their noses and pour stuff down them.” + +“I would if necessary.” + +“Well, it is.” + +“All right----I'll fix something, and you see that they use it.” + +“I can try,” said the Harvester. + +“Try! Pah! You aren't half a man!” + +“That's a half more than being a woman, anyway.” + +“She called you feminine, did she?” cried the doctor, dancing and +laughing. “She ought to see you harvesting skunk cabbage and blue flag +or when you are angry enough.” + +The doctor left the room and it was a half hour before he returned. + +“Try that on them according to directions,” he said, handing over a +couple of bottles. + +“Thank you!” said the Harvester, “I will!” + +“That sounds manly enough.” + +“Oh pother! It's not that I'm not a man, or a laggard in love; but I'd +like to know what you'd do to a girl dumb with grief over the recent +loss of her mother, who was her only relative worth counting, sick from +God knows what exposure and privation, and now a dying relative on her +hands. What could you do?” + +“I'd marry her and pick her out of it!” + +“I wouldn't have her, if she'd leave a sick woman for me!” + +“I wouldn't either. She's got to stick it out until her aunt grows +better, and then I'll go out there and show you how to court a girl.” + +“I guess not! You keep the girl you did court, courted, and you'll have +your hands full. How does that appear to you?” + +The Harvester opened the pamphlet he carried and held up the drawing of +the moth. + +The doctor turned to the light. + +“Good work!” he cried. “Did she do that?” + +“She did. In a little over an hour.” + +“Fine! She should have a chance.” + +“She is going to. She is going to have all the opportunity that is +coming to her.” + +“Good for you, David! Any time I can help!” + +The Harvester replaced the sketch and went to the wagon; but he left +Belshazzar in charge, and visited the largest dry goods store in +Onabasha, where he held a conference with the floor walker. When he came +out he carried a heaping load of boxes of every size and shape, with a +label on each. He drove to Medicine Woods singing and whistling. + +“She didn't want me to go, Belshazzar!” he chuckled to the dog. “She was +more afraid of a cow than she was of me. I made some headway to-day, old +boy. She doesn't seem to have a ray of an idea what I am there for, but +she is going to trust me soon now; that is written in the books. Oh I +hope she will be there to-morrow, and the luna will be out. Got half a +notion to take the case and lay it in the warmest place I can find. +But if it comes out and she isn't there, I'll be sorry. Better trust to +luck.” + +The Harvester stabled Betsy, fed the stock, and visited with the birds. +After supper he took his purchases and entered her room. He opened the +drawers of the chest he had made, and selecting the labelled boxes he +laid them in. But not a package did he open. Then he arose and radiated +conceit of himself. + +“I'll wager she will like those,” he commented proudly, “because Kane +promised me fairly that he would have the right things put up for a girl +the size of the clerk I selected for him, and exactly what Ruth should +have. That girl was slenderer and not quite so tall, but he said +everything was made long on purpose. Now what else should I get?” + +He turned to the dressing table and taking a notebook from his pocket +made this list: + + Rugs for bed and bath room. + Mattresses, pillows and bedding, + Dresses for all occasions. + All kinds of shoes and overshoes. + + +“There are gloves, too!” exclaimed the Harvester. “She has to have some, +but how am I going to know what is right? Oh, but she needs shoes! +High, low, slippers, everything! I wonder what that clerk wears. I don't +believe shoes would be comfortable without being fitted, or at least the +proper size. I wonder what kind of dresses she likes. I hope she's fond +of white. A woman always appears loveliest in that. Maybe I'd better buy +what I'm sure of and let her select the dresses. But I'd love to have +this room crammed with girl-fixings when she comes. Doesn't seem as +if she ever has had any little luxuries. I can't miss it on anything a +woman uses. Let me think!” + +Slowly he wrote again: + + Parasols. + Fans. + Veils. + Hats. + + +“I never can get them! I think that will keep me busy for a few days,” + said the Harvester as he closed the door softly, and went to look at +the pupae cases. Then he carved on the vine of the candlestick for her +dressing table; with one arm around Belshazzar, re-read the story of +John Muir's dog, went into the lake, and to bed. Just as he was becoming +unconscious the beast lifted an inquiring head and gazed at the man. + +“More 'fraid of cow,” the Harvester was muttering in a sleepy chuckle. + + + +CHAPTER XI. DEMONSTRATED COURTSHIP + +When the Harvester saw the Girl coming toward the woods, he spread the +rug, opened and placed the table and chair, laid out the colour box, and +another containing the last luna. + +“Did the green one come out?” she asked, touching the box lightly. + +“It did!” said the Harvester proudly, as if he were responsible for the +performance. “It is an omen! It means that I am to have my long-coveted +pattern for my best candlestick. It also clearly indicates that the +gods of luck are with me for the day, and I get my way about everything. +There won't be the least use in your asking 'why' or interposing +objections. This is my clean sweep. I shall be fearfully dictatorial and +you must submit, because the fates have pointed out that they favour +me to-day, and if you go contrary to their decrees you will have a bad +time.” + +The Girl's smile was a little wan. She sank on a chair and picked up a +pencil. + +“Lay that down!” cried the Harvester. “You haven't had permission from +the Dictator to begin drawing. You are to sit and rest a long time.” + +“Please may I speak?” asked the Girl. + +The Harvester grew foolishly happy. Was she really going to play the +game? Of course he had hoped, but it was a hope without any foundation. + +“You may,” he said soberly. + +“I am afraid that if you don't allow me to draw the moth at once, I'll +never get it done. I dislike to mention it on your good day, but Aunt +Molly is very restless. I got a neighbour's little girl to watch her and +call me if I'm wanted. It's quite certain that I must go soon, so if you +would like the moth----” + +“When luck is coming your way, never hurry it! You always upset the bowl +if you grow greedy and crowd. If it is a gamble whether I get this moth, +I'll take the chance; but I won't change my foreordained programme for +this afternoon. First, you are to sit still ten minutes, shut your eyes, +and rest. I can't sing, but I can whistle, and I'm going to entertain +you so you won't feel alone. Ready now!” + +The Girl leaned her elbows on the table, closed her eyes, and pressed +her slender white hands over them. + +“Please don't call the birds,” she said. “I can't rest if you do. It was +so exciting trying to see all of them and guess what they were saying.” + +“No,” said the Harvester gently. “This ten minutes is for relaxation, +you know. You ease every muscle, sink limply on your chair, lean on the +table, let go all over, and don't think. Just listen to me. I assure you +it's going to be perfectly lovely.” + +Watching intently he saw the strained muscles relaxing at his suggestion +and caught the smile over the last words as he slid into a soft whistle. +It was an easy, slow, old-fashioned tune, carrying along gently, with +neither heights nor depths, just monotonous, sleepy, soothing notes, +that went on and on with a little ripple of change at times, only to +return to the theme, until at last the Girl lifted her head. + +“It's away past ten minutes,” she said, “but that was a real rest. +Truly, I am better prepared for work.” + +“Broke the rule, too!” said the Harvester. “It was, for me to say when +time was up. Can't you allow me to have my way for ten minutes?” + +“I am so anxious to see and draw this moth,” she answered. “And first of +all you promised to bring the drawings you have been using.” + +“Now where does my programme come in?” inquired the Harvester. “You are +spoiling everything, and I refuse to have my lucky day interfered with; +therefore we will ignore the suggestion until we arrive at the place +where it is proper. Next thing is refreshments.” + +He arose and coming over cleared the table. Then he spread on it a paper +tray cloth with a gay border, and going into the thicket brought out +a box and a big bucket containing a jug packed in ice. The Girl's eyes +widened. She reached down, caught up a piece, and holding it to drip a +second started to put it in her mouth. + +“Drop that!” commanded the Harvester. “That's a very unhealthful +proceeding. Wait a minute.” + +From one end of the box he produced a tin of wafers and from the other +a plate. Then he dug into the ice and lifted several different varieties +of chilled fruit. From the jug he poured a combination that he made of +the juices of oranges, pineapples, and lemons. He set the glass, rapidly +frosting in the heat, and the fruit before the Girl. + +“Now!” he said. + +For one instant she stared at the table. Then she looked at him and in +the depths of her dark eyes was an appeal he never forgot. + +“I made that drink myself, so it's all right,” he assured her. “There's +a pretty stiff touch of pineapple in it, and it cuts the cobwebs on a +hot day. Please try it!” + +“I can't!” cried the Girl with a half-sob. “Think of Aunt Molly!” + +“Are you fond of her?” + +“No. I never saw her until a few weeks ago. Since then I've seen nothing +save her poor, tired back. She lies in a heap facing the wall. But if +she could have things like these, she needn't suffer. And if my mother +could have had them she would be living to-day. Oh Man, I can't touch +this.” + +“I see,” said the Harvester. + +He reached over, picked up the glass, and poured its contents into the +jug. He repacked the fruit and closed the wafer box. Then he made a trip +to the thicket and came out putting something into his pocket. + +“Come on!” he said. “We are going to the house.” + +She stared at him. + +“I simply don't dare.” + +“Then I will go alone,” said the Harvester, picking up the bucket and +starting. + +The Girl followed him. + +“Uncle Henry may come any minute,” she urged. + +“Well if he comes and acts unpleasantly, he will get what he richly +deserves.” + +“And he will make me pay for it afterward.” + +“Oh no he won't!” said the Harvester, “because I'll look out for that. +This is my lucky day. He isn't going to come.” + +When he reached the back door he opened it and stepped inside. Of all +the barren places of crude, disheartening ugliness the Harvester ever +had seen, that was the worst. + +“I want a glass and a spoon,” he said. + +The Girl brought them. + +“Where is she?” + +“In the next room.” + +At the sound of their voices a small girl came to the kitchen door. + +“How do you do?” inquired the Harvester. “Is Mrs. Jameson asleep?” + +“I don't know,” answered the child. “She just lies there.” + +The Harvester gave her the glass. “Please fill that with water,” he +said. Then he picked up the bucket and went into the front room. When +the child came with the water he took a bottle from his pocket, filled +the spoon, and handed it to her. + +“Hold that steadily,” he said. + +Then he slid his strong hands under the light frame and turned the face +of the faded little creature toward him. + +“I am a Medicine Man, Mrs. Jameson,” he said casually. “I heard you were +sick and I came to see if a little of this stuff wouldn't brace you up. +Open your lips.” + +He held out the spoon and the amazed woman swallowed the contents before +she realized what she was doing. Then the Harvester ran a hand under +her shoulders and lifting her gently he tossed her pillow with the other +hand. + +“You are a light little body, just like my mother,” he commented. “Now I +have something else sick people sometimes enjoy.” + +He held the fruit juice to her lips as he slightly raised her on the +pillow. Her trembling fingers lifted and closed around the sparkling +glass. + +“Oh it's cool!” she gasped. + +“It is,” said the Harvester, “and sour! I think you can taste it. Try!” + +She drank so greedily he drew away the glass and urged caution, but the +shaking fingers clung to him and the wavering voice begged for more. + +“In a minute,” said the Harvester gently. But the fevered woman would +not wait. She drank the cooling liquid until she could take no more. +Then she watched him fill a small pitcher and pack it in a part of the +ice and lay some fruit around it. + +“Who, Ruth?” she panted. + +“A Medicine Man who heard about you.” + +“What will Henry say?” + +“He won't know,” explained the Girl, smoothing the hot forehead. “I'll +put it in the cupboard, and slip it to you while he is out of the room. +It will make you strong and well.” + +“I don't want to be strong and well and suffer it all over again. I want +to rest. Give me more of the cool drink. Give me all I want, then I'll +go to sleep.” + +“It's wonderful,” said the Girl. “That's more than I've heard her talk +since I came. She is much stronger. Please let her have it.” + +The Harvester assented. He gave the child some of the fruit, and told +her to sit beside the bed and hold the drink when it was asked for. She +agreed to be very careful and watchful. Then he picked up the bucket, +and followed by the Girl, returned to the woods. + +“Now we have to begin all over again,” he said, as she seated herself at +the table. “Because of the walk in the heat, this time the programme is +a little different.” + +He replaced the wafer box and opened it, filled the glass, and heaped +the cold fruit. + +“Your aunt is going to have a refreshing sleep now,” he said, “and +your mind can be free about her for an hour or two. I am very sure your +mother would not want you deprived of anything because she missed it, so +you are to enjoy this, if you care for it. At least try a sample.” + +The Girl lifted the glass to her lips with a trembling hand. + +“I'm like Aunt Molly,” she said; “I wish I could drink all I could +swallow, and then lie down and go to sleep forever. I suppose this is +what they have in Heaven.” + +“No, it's what they drink all over earth at present, but I have a +conceit of my own brand. Some of it is too strong of one fruit or of the +other, and all too sweet for health. This is compounded scientifically +and it's just right. If you are not accustomed to cold drinks, go +slowly.” + +“You can't scare me,” said the Girl; “I'm going to drink all I want.” + +There was a note of excitement in the Harvester's laugh. + +“You must have some, too!” + +“After a while,” he said. “I was thirsty when I made it, so I don't care +for any more now. Try the fruit and those wafers. Of course they are not +home made--they are the best I could do at a bakery. Take time enough to +eat slowly. I'm going to tell you a tale while you lunch, and it's about +a Medicine Man named David Langston. It's a very peculiar story, +but it's quite true. This man lives in the woods east of Onabasha, +accompanied by his dog, horse, cow, and chickens, and a forest full of +birds, flowers, and matchless trees. He has lived there in this manner +for six long years, and every spring he and his dog have a seance and +agree whether he shall go on gathering medicinal herbs and trying his +hand at making medicine or go to the city and live as other men. Always +the dog chooses to remain in the woods. + +“Then every spring, on the day the first bluebird comes, the dog also +decides whether the man shall go on alone or find a mate and bring her +home for company. Each year the dog regularly has decided that they live +as always. This spring, for some unforeseen reason, he changed his mind, +and compelled the man, according to his vow in the beginning, to go +courting. The man was so very angry at the idea of having a woman in +his home, interfering with his work, disturbing his arrangements, and +perhaps wanting to spend more money than he could afford, that he struck +the dog for making that decision; struck him for the very first time in +his life----I believe you'd like those apricots. Please try one.” + +“Go on with the story,” said the Girl, sipping delicately but constantly +at the frosty glass. + +The Harvester arose and refilled it. Then he dropped pieces of ice over +the fruit. + +“Where was I?” he inquired casually. + +“Where you struck Belshazzar, and it's no wonder,” answered the Girl. + +Without taking time to ponder that, the Harvester continued: + +“But that night the man had a wonderful, golden dream. A beautiful girl +came to him, and she was so gracious and lovely that he was sufficiently +punished for striking his dog, because he fell unalterably in love with +her.” + +“Meaning you?” interrupted the Girl. + +“Yes,” said the Harvester, “meaning me. I----if you like----fell in love +with the girl. She came so alluringly, and I was so close to her that +I saw her better than I ever did any other girl, and I knew her for all +time. When she went, my heart was gone.” + +“And you have lived without that important organ ever since?” + +“Without even the ghost of it! She took it with her. Well, that dream +was so real, that the next day I began building over my house, making +furniture, and planting flowers for her; and every day, wherever I went, +I watched for her.” + +“What nonsense!” + +“I can't see it.” + +“You won't find a girl you dreamed about in a thousand years.” + +“Wrong!” cried the Harvester triumphantly. “Saw her in little less than +three months, but she vanished and it took some time and difficult work +before I located her again; but I've got her all solid now, and she +doesn't escape.” + +“Is she a 'lovely and gracious lady'?” + +“She is!” said the Harvester, with all his heart. + +“Young and beautiful, of course!” + +“Indeed yes!” + +“Please fill this glass. I told you what I was going to do.” + +The Harvester refilled the glass and the Girl drained it. + +“Now won't you set aside these things and allow me to go to work?” she +asked. “My call may come any minute, and I'll never forgive myself if I +waste time, and don't draw your moth pattern for you.” + +“It's against my principles to hurry, and besides, my story isn't +finished.” + +“It is,” said the Girl. “She is young and lovely, gentle and a lady, you +have her 'all solid,' and she can't 'escape'; that's the end, of course. +But if I were you, I wouldn't have her until I gave her a chance to get +away, and saw whether she would if she could.” + +“Oh I am not a jailer,” said the Harvester. “She shall be free if I +cannot make her love me; but I can, and I will; I swear it.” + +“You are not truly in earnest?” + +“I am in deadly earnest.” + +“Honestly, you dreamed about a girl, and found the very one?” + +“Most certainly, I did.” + +“It sounds like the wildest romancing.” + +“It is the veriest reality.” + +“Well I hope you win her, and that she will be everything you desire.” + +“Thank you,” said the Harvester. “It's written in the book of fate +that I succeed. The very elements are with me. The South Wind carried +a message to her for me. I am going to marry her, but you could make it +much easier for me if you would.” + +“I! What could I do?” cried the Girl. + +“You could cease being afraid of me. You could learn to trust me. You +could try to like me, if you see anything likeable about me. That would +encourage me so that I could tell you of my Dream Girl, and then you +could show me how to win her. A woman always knows about those things +better than a man. You could be the greatest help in all the world to +me, if only you would.” + +“I couldn't possibly! I can't leave here. I have no proper clothing to +appear before another girl. She would be shocked at my white face. That +I could help you is the most improbable dream you have had.” + +“You must pardon me if I differ from you, and persist in thinking that +you can be of invaluable assistance to me, if you will. But you can't +influence my Dream Girl, if you fear and distrust me yourself. Promise +me that you will help me that much, anyway.” + +“I'll do all I can. I only want to make you see that I am in no position +to grant any favours, no matter how much I owe you or how I'd like to. +Is the candlestick you are carving for her?” + +“It is,” said the Harvester. “I am making a pair of maple to stand on a +dressing table I built for her. It is unusually beautiful wood, I think, +and I hope she will be pleased with it.” + +“Please take these things away and let me begin. This is the only thing +I can see that I can do for you, and the moth will want to fly before I +have finished.” + +The Harvester cleared the table and placed the box, while the Girl +spread the paper and began work eagerly. + +“I wonder if I knew there were such exquisite things in all the world,” + she said. “I scarcely think I did. I am beginning to understand why you +couldn't kill one. You could make a chair or a table, and so you feel +free to destroy them; but it takes ages and Almighty wisdom to evolve a +creature like this, so you don't dare. I think no one else would if they +really knew. Please talk while I work.” + +“Is there a particular subject you want discussed?” + +“Anything but her. If I think too strongly of her, I can't work so +well.” + +“Your ginseng is almost dry,” said the Harvester. “I think I can bring +you the money in a few days.” + +“So soon!” she cried. + +“It dries day and night in an even temperature, and faster than you +would believe. There's going to be between seven and eight pounds of +it, when I make up what it has shrunk. It will go under the head of the +finest wild roots. I can get eight for it sure.” + +“Oh what good news!” cried the Girl. “This is my lucky day, too. And the +little girl isn't coming, so Aunt Molly must be asleep. Everything goes +right! If only Uncle Henry wouldn't come home!” + +“Let me fill your glass,” proffered the Harvester. + +“Just half way, and set it where I can see it,” said the Girl. She +worked with swift strokes and there was a hint of colour in her face, as +she looked at him. “I hope you won't think I'm greedy,” she said, “but +truly, that's the first thing I've had that I could taste in----I can't +remember when.” + +“I'll bring a barrel to-morrow,” offered the Harvester, “and a big piece +of ice wrapped in coffee sacking.” + +“You mustn't think of such a thing! Ice is expensive and so are fruits.” + +“Ice costs me the time required to saw and pack it at my home. I almost +live on the fruit I raise. I confess to a fondness for this drink. I +have no other personal expenses, unless you count in books, and a very +few clothes, such as I'm wearing; so I surely can afford all the fruit +juice I want.” + +“For yourself, yes.” + +“Also for a couple of women or I am a mighty poor attempt at a man,” + said the Harvester. “This is my day, so you are not to talk, because it +won't do any good. Things go my way.” + +“Please see what you think of this,” she said. + +The Harvester arose and bent over her. + +“That will do finely,” he answered. “You can stop. I don't require all +those little details for carving, I just want a good outline. It is +finished. See here!” + +He drew some folded papers from his pocket and laid them before her. + +“Those are what I have been working from,” he said. + +The Girl took them and studied each carefully. + +“If those are worth five dollars to you,” she said gently, “why then I +needn't hesitate to take as much for mine. They are superior.” + +“I should say so,” laughed the Harvester as he took up the drawing and +laid down the money. + +“If you would make it half that much I'd feel better about it,” she +said. + +“How could I?” asked the Harvester. “Your fingers are well trained and +extremely skilful. Because some one has not been paying you enough for +your work is no reason why I should keep it up. From now on you must +have what others get. As soon as you can arrange for work, I want to +tell you about some designs I have studied out from different things, +show you the plants and insects, and have you make some samples. I'll +send them to proper places, and see what experts say about the ideas and +drawing. Work in the woods is healthful, with proper precautions; +it's easy compared with the exactions of being bound to sewing or +embroidering in the confinement of a room; it's vividly interesting +in the search for new subjects, changes of material, and differing +harmonious combinations; it's truly artistic; and it brings the prices +high grade stuff always does.” + +“Almost you give me hope,” said the Girl. “Almost, Man----almost! Since +mother died, I haven't thought or planned beyond paying for the medicine +she took and the shelter she lies in. Oh I didn't mean to say that----!” + +She buried her face in her hands. The Harvester suffered until he +scarcely knew how to bear it. + +“Please finish,” he begged. “You hadn't planned beyond the debt, you +were saying----” + +The Girl lifted her tired, strained face. + +“Give me a little more of that delicious drink,” she said. “I am +ravenous for it. It puts new life in me. This and what you say bring a +far away, misty vision of a clean, bright, peaceful room somewhere, and +work one could love and live on in comfort; enough to give a desire to +finish life to its natural end. Oh Man, you make me hope in spite of +myself!” + +“'Praise God from whom all blessings flow;'” quoted the Harvester +reverently. “Now try one of these peaches. It's juicy and cold. Get that +room right in focus in your brain, and nurture the idea. Its walls shall +be bright as sunshine, its floor creamy white, and it shall open into a +little garden, where only yellow flowers grow, and the birds shall sing. +The first ray of sun that peeps over the hills of morning shall fall +through its windows across your bed, and you shall work only as you +please, after you've had months of play and rest; and it's coming true +the instant you can leave here. Dream of it, make up your mind to it, +because it's coming. I have a little streak of second sight, and I see +it on the way.” + +“You are talking wildly,” said the Girl, “else you are a good genie +trying to conjure a room for me.” + +“This room I am talking of is ready whenever you want to take +possession,” said the Harvester. “Accept it as a reality, because I tell +you I know where it is, that it is waiting, and you can earn your way +into it with no obligation to any one.” + +The Girl stretched out her right hand and slowly turned and opened and +closed it. Then she glanced at the Harvester with a weary smile. + +“From somewhere I feel a glimmering of the spirit, but Oh, dear Lord, +the flesh is weak!” she said. + +“That's where nourishing foods, appetizing drinks, plenty of pure, fresh +air, and good water come in. Now we have talked enough for one day, and +worked too much. The fruit and drink go with you. I will carry it to the +house, and you can hide it in your room. I am going to put a bottle of +tonic on top that the best surgeon in the state gave me for you. Try to +eat something strengthening and then take a spoonful of this, and use +all the fruit you want. I'll bring more to-morrow and put it here, with +plenty of ice. Now suppose you let the moth go free,” he suggested to +avoid objections. “You must take my word for it, that it is perfectly +harmless, lacking either sting or bite, and hold your hand before it, so +that it will climb on your fingers. Then stand where a ray of sunshine +falls and in a few minutes it will go out to live its life.” + +The Girl hesitated a second as she studied the clean-cut, interested +face of the man; then she held out her hand, and he urged the moth to +climb on her fingers. She stepped where a ray of strong light fell on +the forest floor and held the moth in it. The brightness also touched +her transparent hand and white face and the gleaming black hair. The +Harvester choked down a rising surge of desire for her, and took a new +grip on himself. + +“Oh!” she cried breathlessly, as the clinging feet suddenly loosened and +the luna slowly flew away among the trees. She turned on the Harvester. +“You teach me wonders!” she cried. “You give life different meanings. +You are not as other men.” + +“If that be true, it is because I am of the woods. The Almighty does not +evolve all his wonders in animal, bird, and flower form; He keeps some +to work out in the heart, if humanity only will go to His school, and +allow Him to have dominion. Come now, you must go. I will come back and +put away all the things and tomorrow I will bring your ginseng money. +Any time you cannot come, if you want to tell me why, or if there is +anything I can do for you, put a line under the oilcloth. I will carry +the bucket.” + +“I am so afraid,” she said. + +“I will only go to the edge of the woods. You can see if there is any +one at the house first. If not, you can send the child away, and then I +will carry the bucket to the door for you, and it will furnish comfort +for one night, at least.” + +They went to the cleared land and the Girl passed on alone. Soon she +reappeared and the Harvester saw the child going down the road. He took +up the bucket and set it inside the door. + +“Is there anything I can do for you?” + +“Nothing but go, before you make trouble.” + +“Will you hide that stuff and walk back as far as the woods with me? +There is something more I want to say to you.” + +The Girl staggered under the heavy load, and the man turned his head and +tried to pretend he did not see. Presently she came out to him, and they +returned to the line of the woods. Just as they entered the shade there +was a flash before them, and on a twig a few rods away a little gray +bird alighted, while in precipitate pursuit came a flaming wonder of +red, and in a burst of excited trills, broken whistles, and imploring +gestures, perched beside her. + +The Harvester hastily drew the Girl behind some bushes. + +“Watch!” he whispered. “You are going to see a sight so lovely and so +rare it is vouchsafed to few mortals ever to behold.” + +“What are they fighting about?” she whispered. + +“You are witnessing a cardinal bird declare his love,” breathed the +Harvester. + +“Do cardinals love different birds?” + +“No. The female is gray, because if she is coloured the same as the +trees and branches and her nest, she will have more chance to bring off +her young in safety. He is blood red, because he is the bravest, gayest, +most ardent lover of the whole woods,” explained the Harvester. + +The Girl leaned forward breathlessly watching and a slow surge of colour +crept into her cheeks. The red bird twisted, whistled, rocked, tilted, +and trilled, and the gray sat demurely watching him, as if only half +convinced he really meant it. The gay lover began at the beginning and +said it all over again with more impassioned gestures than before, and +then he edged in touch and softly stroked her wing with his beak. +She appeared startled, but did not fly. So again the fountain of +half-whistled, half-trilled notes bubbled with the acme of pleading +intonation and that time he leaned and softly kissed her as she reached +her bill for the caress. Then she fled in headlong flight, while the +streak of flame darted after her. The Girl caught her breath in a swift +spasm of surprise and wonder. She turned to the Harvester. + +“What was it you wanted to say to me?” she asked hurriedly. + +The Harvester was not the man to miss the goods the gods provided. Truly +this was his lucky day. Unhesitatingly he took the plunge. + +“Precisely what he said to her. And if you observed closely, you noticed +that she didn't ask him 'why.'” + +Before she could open her lips, he was gone, his swift strides carrying +him through the woods. + + + +CHAPTER XII. “THE WAY OF A MAN WITH A MAID” + +The next day the Harvester lifted the oilcloth, and picking up a folded +note he read---- + +“Aunt Molly found rest in the night. She was more comfortable than she +had been since I have known her. Close the end she whispered to me to +thank you if I ever saw you again. She will be buried to-morrow. Past +that, I dare not think.” + +The Harvester sat on the log and studied the lines. She would not come +that day or the next. After a long time he put the note in his pocket, +wrote an answer telling her he had been there, and would come on the +following day on the chance of her wanting anything he could do, and the +next he would bring the ginseng money, so she must be sure to meet him. + +Then he went back to the wagon, turned Betsy, and drove around the +Jameson land watching closely. There were several vehicles in the barn +lot, and a couple of men sitting under the trees of the door yard. Faded +bedding hung on the line and women moved through the rooms, but he could +not see the Girl. Slowly he drove on until he came to the first house, +and there he stopped and went in. He saw the child of the previous day, +and as she came forward her mother appeared in the doorway. + +The Harvester explained who he was and that he was examining the woods +in search of some almost extinct herbs he needed in his business. +Then he told of having been at the adjoining farm the day before and +mentioned the sick woman. He added that later she had died. He casually +mentioned that a young woman there seemed pale and ill and wondered +if the neighbours would see her through. He suggested that the place +appeared as if the owner did not take much interest, and when the woman +finished with Henry Jameson, he said how very important it seemed to him +that some good, kind-hearted soul should go and mother the poor girl, +and the woman thought she was the very person. Without knowing exactly +how he did it, the Harvester left with her promise to remain with the +Girl the coming two nights. The woman had her hands full of strange and +delicious fruit without understanding why it had been given her, or why +she had made those promises. She thought the Harvester a remarkably fine +young man to take such interest in strangers and she told him he was +welcome to anything he could find on her place that would help with his +medicines. + +The Harvester just happened to be coming from the woods as the woman +freshly dressed left the house, so he took her in the wagon and drove +back to the Jameson place, because he was going that way. Then he +returned to Medicine Woods and worked with all his might. + +First he polished floors, cleaned windows, and arranged the rooms +as best he could inside the cabin; then he gave a finishing touch to +everything outside. He could not have told why he did it, but he thought +it was because there was hope that now the Girl would come to Onabasha. +If he found opportunity to bring her to the city, he hoped that possibly +he might drive home with her and show Medicine Woods, so everything +must be in order. Then he worked with flying fingers in the dry-house, +putting up her ginseng for market, and never was weight so liberal. + +The next morning he drove early to Onabasha and came home with a loaded +wagon, the contents of which he scattered through the cabin where it +seemed most suitable, but the greater part of it was for her. He glanced +at the bare floors and walls of the other rooms, and thought of trying +to improve them, but he was afraid of not getting the right things. + +“I don't know much about what is needed here,” he said, “but I am +perfectly safe in buying anything a girl ever used.” + +Then he returned to the city, explained the situation to the doctor, and +selected the room he wanted in case the Girl could be persuaded to come +to the hospital. After that he went to see the doctor's wife, and +made arrangements for her to be ready for a guest, because there was a +possibility he might want to call for help. He had another jug of fruit +juice and all the delicacies he could think of, also a big cake of ice, +when he reached the woods. There were only a few words for him. + +“I will come to-morrow at two, if at all possible; if not, keep the +money until I can.” + +There was nothing to do except to place his offering under the oilcloth +and wait, but he simply was compelled to add a line to say he would be +there, and to express the hope that she was comfortable as possible and +thinking of the sunshine room. Then he returned to Medicine Woods to +wait, and found that possible only by working to exhaustion. There were +many things he could do, and one after another he finished them, until +completely worn out; and then he slept the deep sleep of weariness. + +At noon the next day he bathed, shaved, and dressed in fresh, clean +clothing. He stopped in Onabasha for more fruit, and drove to the +Jameson woods. He was waiting and watching the usual path the Girl +followed, when her step sounded on the other side. The Harvester arose +and turned. Her pallor was alarming. She stepped on the rug he had +spread, and sank almost breathless to the chair. + +“Why do you come a new way that fills you with fear?” asked the +Harvester. + +“It seems as if Uncle Henry is watching me every minute, and I didn't +dare come where he could see. I must not remain a second. You must take +these things away and go at once. He is dreadful.” + +“So am I,” said the Harvester, “when affairs go too everlastingly wrong. +I am not afraid of any man living. What are you planning to do?” + +“I want to ask you, are you sure about the prices of my drawing and the +ginseng?” + +“Absolutely,” said the Harvester. “As for the ginseng it went in fresh +and early, best wild roots, and it brought eight a pound. There were +eight pounds when I made up weight and here is your money.” + +He handed her a long envelope addressed to her. + +“What is the amount?” she asked. + +“Sixty-four dollars.” + +“I can't believe it.” + +“You have it in your fingers.” + +“You know that I would like to thank you properly, if I had words to +express myself.” + +“Never mind that,” said the Harvester. “Tell me what you are planning. +Say that you will come to the hospital for the long, perfect rest now.” + +“It is absolutely impossible. Don't weary me by mentioning it. I +cannot.” + +“Will you tell me what you intend doing?” + +“I must,” she said, “for it depends entirely on your word. I am going +to get Uncle Henry's supper, and then go and remain the night with the +neighbour who has been helping me. In the morning, when he leaves, she +is coming with her wagon for my trunk, and she is going to drive with me +to Onabasha and find me a cheap room and loan me a few things, until I +can buy what I need. I am going to use fourteen dollars of this and my +drawing money for what I am forced to buy, and pay fifty on my debt. +Then I will send you my address and be ready for work.” + +She clutched the envelope and for the first time looked at him. + +“Very well,” said the Harvester. “I could take you to the wife of my +best friend, the chief surgeon of the city hospital, and everything +would be ease and rest until you are strong; she would love to have +you.” + +The Girl dropped her hands wearily. + +“Don't tire me with it!” she cried. “I am almost falling despite the +stimulus of food and drink I can touch. I never can thank you properly +for that. I won't be able to work hard enough to show you how much I +appreciate what you have done for me. But you don't understand. A woman, +even a poverty-poor woman, if she be delicately born and reared, cannot +go to another woman on a man's whim, and when she lacks even the barest +necessities. I don't refuse to meet your friends. I shall love to, when +I can be so dressed that I will not shame you. Until that times comes, +if you are the gentleman you appear to be, you will wait without urging +me further.” + +“I must be a man, in order to be a gentleman,” said the Harvester. “And +it is because the man in me is in hot rebellion against more loneliness, +pain, and suffering for you, that the conventions become chains I do not +care how soon or how roughly I break. If only you could be induced to +say the word, I tell you I could bring one of God's gentlest women to +you.” + +“And probably she would come in a dainty gown, in her carriage or motor, +and be disgusted, astonished, and secretly sorry for you. As for me, I +do not require her pity. I will be glad to know the beautiful, refined, +and gentle woman you are so certain of, but not until I am better +dressed and more attractive in appearance than now. If you will give me +your address, I will write you when I am ready for work.” + +Silently the Harvester wrote it. “Will you give me permission to take +these things to your neighbour for you?” he asked. “They would serve +until you can do better, and I have no earthly use for them.” + +She hesitated. Then she laughed shortly. + +“What a travesty my efforts at pride are with you!” she cried. “I begin +by trying to preserve some proper dignity, and end by confessing abject +poverty. I yet have the ten you paid me the other day, but twenty-four +dollars are not much to set up housekeeping on, and I would be more glad +than I can say for these very things.” + +“Thank you,” said the Harvester. “I will take them when I go. Is there +anything else?” + +“I think not.” + +“Will you have a drink?” + +“Yes, if you have more with you. I believe it is really cooling my +blood.” + +“Are you taking the medicine?” + +“Yes,” she said, “and I am stronger. Truly I am. I know I appear ghastly +to you, but it's loss of sleep, and trying to lay away poor Aunt Molly +decently, and----” + +“And fear of Uncle Henry,” added the Harvester. + +“Yes,” said the Girl. “That most of all! He thinks I am going to stay +here and take her place. I can't tell him I am not, and how I am to hide +from him when I am gone, I don't know. I am afraid of him.” + +“Has he any claim on you?” + +“Shelter for the past three months.” + +“Are you of age?” + +“I am almost twenty-four,” she said. + +“Then suppose you leave Uncle Henry to me,” suggested the Harvester. + +“Why?” + +“Careful now! The red bird told you why!” said the man. “I will not +urge it upon you now, but keep it steadily in the back of your head that +there is a sunshine room all ready and waiting for you, and I am going +to take you to it very soon. As things are, I think you might allow me +to tell you----” + +She was on her feet in instant panic. “I must go,” she said. “Uncle +Henry is dogging me to promise to remain, and I will not, and he is +watching me. I must go----” + +“Can you give me your word of honour that you will go to the neighbour +woman to-night; that you feel perfectly safe?” + +She hesitated. “Yes, I----I think so. Yes, if he doesn't find out and +grow angry. Yes, I will be safe.” + +“How soon will you write me?” + +“Just as soon as I am settled and rest a little.” + +“Do you mean several days?” + +“Yes, several days.” + +“An eternity!” cried the Harvester with white lips. “I cannot let you +go. Suppose you fall ill and fail to write me, and I do not know where +you are, and there is no one to care for you.” + +“But can't you see that I don't know where I will be? If it will satisfy +you, I will write you a line to-morrow night and tell you where I am, +and you can come later.” + +“Is that a promise?” asked the Harvester. + +“It is,” said the Girl. + +“Then I will take these things to your neighbour and wait until +to-morrow night. You won't fail me?” + +“I never in all my life saw a man so wild over designs,” said the Girl, +as she started toward the house. + +“Don't forget that the design I'm craziest about is the same as the red +bird's,” the Harvester flung after her, but she hurried on and made no +reply. + +He folded the table and chair, rolled the rug, and shouldering them +picked up the bucket and started down the river bank. + +“David!” + +Such a faint little call he never would have been sure he heard anything +if Belshazzar had not stopped suddenly. The hair on the back of his neck +arose and he turned with a growl in his throat. The Harvester dropped +his load with a crash and ran in leaping bounds, but the dog was before +him. Half way to the house, Ruth Jameson swayed in the grip of her +uncle. One hand clutched his coat front in a spasmodic grasp, and with +the other she covered her face. + +The roar the Harvester sent up stayed the big, lifted fist, and the dog +leaped for a throat hold, and compelled the man to defend himself. The +Harvester never knew how he covered the space until he stood between +them, and saw the Girl draw back and snatch together the front of her +dress. + +“He took it from me!” she panted. “Make him, oh make him give back my +money!” + +Then for a few seconds things happened too rapidly to record. Once the +Harvester tossed a torn envelope exposing money to the Girl, and again a +revolver, and then both men panting and dishevelled were on their feet. + +“Count your money, Ruth?” said the Harvester in a voice of deadly quiet. + +“It is all here,” said she. + +“Her money?” cried Henry Jameson. “My money! She has been stealing the +price of my cattle from my pockets. I thought I was short several times +lately.” + +“You are lying,” said the Harvester deliberately. “It is her money. I +just paid it to her. You were trying to take it from her, not the other +way.” + +“Oh, she is in your pay?” leered the man. + +“If you say an insulting word I think very probably I will finish you,” + said the Harvester. “I can, with my naked hands, and all your neighbours +will say it is a a good job. You have felt my grip! I warn you!” + +“How does my niece come to be taking money from you!” + +“You have forfeited all right to know. Ruth, you cannot remain here. You +must come with me. I will take you to Onabasha and find you a room.” + +A horrible laugh broke from the man. + +“So that is the end of my saintly niece!” he said. + +“Remember!” cried the Harvester advancing a step. “Ruth, will you go to +the rest I suggested for you?” + +“I cannot.” + +“Will you go to Doctor Carey's wife?” + +“Impossible!” + +“Will you marry me and go to the shelter of my home with me?” + +Wild-eyed she stared at him. + +“Why?” + +“Because I love you, and want life made easier for you, above anything +else on earth.” + +“But your Dream Girl!” + +“YOU ARE THE DREAM GIRL! I thought the red bird told you for me! I +didn't know it would be a shock. I believed I had made you understand.” + +By that time she was shaking with a nervous chill, and the sight +unmanned the Harvester. + +“Come with me!” he urged. “We will decide what you want to do on the +way. Only come, I beg you.” + +“First it was marry, now it's decide later,” broke in Henry Jameson, +crazed with anger. “Move a step and I'll strike you down. I'd better +than see you disgraced----” + +The Harvester advanced and Jameson stepped back. + +“Ruth,” said the Harvester, “I know how impossible this seems. It is +giving you no chance at all. I had intended, when I found you, to court +you tenderly as girl ever was wooed before. Come with me, and I'll do +it yet. The new home was built for you. The sunshine room is ready and +waiting for you. There is pure air, fresh water, nothing but rest and +comfort. I'll nurse you back to health and strength, and you shall be +courted until you come to me of your own accord.” + +“Impossible!” cried the girl. + +“Only if you make it so. If you will come now, we can be married in a +few hours, and you can be safe in your own home. I realize now that +this is unexpected and shocking to you, but if you will come with me and +allow me to restore you to health and strength, and if, say, in a year, +you are convinced that you do not love me, I will set you free. If +you will come, I swear to you that you shall be my wife first, and my +honoured guest afterward, until such time as you either tell me you love +me or that you never can. Will you come on those terms, Ruth?” + +“I cannot!” + +“It will end fear, uncertainty, and work, until you are strong and well. +It will give you home, rest, and love, that you will find is worth your +consideration. I will keep my word; of that you may be sure.” + +“No,” she cried. “No! But take back this money! Keep it until I tell you +to whom to pay it.” + +She started toward him holding out the envelope. + +Henry Jameson, with a dreadful oath, sprang for it, his contorted face +a drawn snarl. The Harvester caught him in air and sent him reeling. He +snatched the revolver from the Girl and put the money in his pocket. + +“Ruth, I can't leave you here,” he said. “Oh my Dream Girl! Are you +afraid of me yet? Won't you trust me? Won't you come?” + +“No.” + +“You are right about that, my lady; you will come back to the house, +that's what you'll do,” said Henry Jameson, starting toward her. + +“No!” cried the Girl retreating. “Oh Heaven help me! What am I to do?” + +“Ruth, you must come with me,” said the Harvester. “I don't dare leave +you here.” + +She stood between them and gave Henry Jameson one long, searching look. +Then she turned to the Harvester. + +“I am far less afraid of you. I will accept your offer,” she said. + +“Thank you!” said the Harvester. “I will keep my word and you shall have +no regrets. Is there anything here you wish to take with you?” + +“I want a little trunk of my mother's. It contains some things of hers.” + +“Will you show me where it is?” + +She started toward the house; he followed, and Henry Jameson fell in +line. The Harvester turned on him. “You remain where you are,” he said. +“I will take nothing but the trunk. I know what you are thinking, +but you will not get your gun just now. I will return this revolver +to-morrow.” + +“And the first thing I do with it will be to use it on you,” said Henry +Jameson. + +“I'll report that threat to the police, so that they can see you +properly hanged if you do,” retorted the Harvester, as he followed the +girl. + +“Where is his gun?” he asked as he overtook her. When he reached the +house he told her to watch the door. He went inside, broke the lock from +the gun in the corner, found the trunk, and swinging it to his shoulder, +passed Henry Jameson and went back through the woods. The Harvester set +the trunk in the wagon, helped the Girl in, and returned for the load +he had dropped at her call. Then he took the lines and started for +Onabasha. + +The Girl beside him was almost fainting. He stopped to give her a drink +and tried to encourage her. + +“Brace up the best you can, Ruth,” he said. “You must go with me for a +license; that is the law. Afterward, I'll make it just as easy for +you as possible. I will do everything, and in a few hours you will be +comfortable in your room. You brave girl! This must come out right! +You have suffered more than your share. I will have peace for you the +remainder of the way.” + +She lifted shaking hands and tried to arrange her hair and dress. As +they neared the city she spoke. + +“What will they ask me?” + +“I don't know. But I am sure the law requires you to appear in person +now. I can take you somewhere and find out first.” + +“That will take time. I want to reach my room. What would you think?” + +“If you are of age, where you were born, if you are a native of this +country, what your father and mother died of, how old they were, and +such questions as that. I'll help you all I can. You know those things. +don't you?” + +“Yes. But I must tell you----” + +“I don't want to be told anything,” said the Harvester. “Save your +strength. All I want to know is any way in which I can make this easier +for you. Nothing else matters. I will tell you what I think; if you have +any objections, make them. I will drive to the bank and get a draft for +what you owe, and have that off your mind. Then we will get the license. +After that I'll take you to the side door, slip you in the elevator and +to the fitting room of a store where I know the manager, and you shall +have some pretty clothing while I arrange for a minister, and I'll come +for you with a carriage. That isn't the kind of wedding you or any other +girl should have, but there are times when a man only can do his best. +You will help me as much as you can, won't you?” + +“Anything you choose. It doesn't matter----only be quick as possible.” + +“There are a few details to which I must attend,” said the Harvester, +“and the time will go faster trying on dresses than waiting alone. When +you are properly clothed you will feel better. What did you say the +amount you owe is?” + +“You may get a draft for fifty dollars. I will pay the remainder when I +earn it.” + +“Ruth, won't you give me the pleasure of taking you home free from the +worry of that debt?” + +“I am not going to 'worry.' I am going to work and pay it.” + +“Very well,” said the Harvester. “This is the bank. We will stop here.” + +They went in and he handed her a slip of paper. + +“Write the name and address on that?” he said. + +As the slip was returned to him, without a glance he folded it and slid +it under a wicket. “Write a draft for fifty dollars payable to that +party, and send to that address, from Miss Ruth Jameson,” he said. + +Then he turned to her. + +“That is over. See how easy it is! Now we will go to the court house. It +is very close. Try not to think. Just move and speak.” + +“Hello, Langston!” said the clerk. “What can we do for you here?” + +“Show this girl every consideration,” whispered the Harvester, as he +advanced. “I want a marriage license in your best time. I will answer +first.” + +With the document in his possession, they went to the store he +designated, where he found the Girl a chair in the fitting room, while +he went to see the manager. + +“I want one of your most sensible and accommodating clerks,” said the +Harvester, “and I would like a few words with her.” + +When she was presented he scrutinized her carefully and decided she +would do. + +“I have many thanks and something more substantial for a woman who will +help me to carry through a slightly unusual project with sympathy and +ability,” he said, “and the manager has selected you. Are you willing?” + +“If I can,” said the clerk. + +“She has put up your other orders,” interposed the manager; “were they +satisfactory?” + +“I don't know,” said the Harvester. “They have not yet reached the one +for whom they were intended. What I want you to do,” he said to the +clerk, “is to go to the fitting room and dress the girl you find there +for her wedding. She had other plans, but death disarranged them, and +she has only an hour in which to meet the event most girls love to +linger over for months. She has been ill, and is worn with watching; but +some time she may look back to her wedding day with joy, and if only +you would help me to make the best of it for her, I would be, as I said, +under more obligations than I can express.” + +“I will do anything,” said the clerk. + +“Very well,” said the Harvester. “She has come from the country entirely +unprepared. She is delicate and refined. Save her all the embarrassment +you can. Dress her beautifully in white. Keep a memorandum slip of what +you spend for my account.” + +“What is the limit?” asked the clerk. + +“There is none,” said the Harvester. “Put the prettiest things on her +you have in the right sizes, and if you are a woman with a heart, be +gentle!” + +“Is she ready?” inquired the manager at the door an hour later. + +“I am,” said the Girl stepping through. + +The astounded Harvester stood and stared, utterly oblivious of the +curious people. + +“Here, here, here!” suddenly he whistled it, in the red bird's most +entreating tones. + +The Girl laughed and the colour in her face deepened. + +“Let us go,” she said. + +“But what about you?” asked the manager of the Harvester. + +“Thunder!” cried the man aghast. “I was so busy getting everything else +ready, I forgot all about myself. I can't stand before a minister beside +her, can I?” + +“Well I should say not,” said the manager. + +“Indeed yes,” said the Girl. “I never saw you in any other clothing. You +would be a stranger of whom I'd be afraid.” + +“That settles it!” said the Harvester calmly. “Thank all of you more +than words can express. I will come in the first of the week and tell +you how we get along.” + +Then they went to the carriage and started for the residence of a +minister. + +“Ruth, you are my Dream Girl to the tips of your eyelashes,” said the +Harvester. “I almost wish you were not. It wouldn't keep me thinking so +much of the remainder of that dream. You are the loveliest sight I ever +saw.” + +“Do I really appear well?” asked the Girl, hungry for appreciation. + +“Indeed you do!” said the Harvester. “I never could have guessed that +such a miracle could be wrought. And you don't seem so tired. Were they +good to you?” + +“Wonderfully! I did not know there was kindness like that in all the +world for a stranger. I did not feel lost or embarrassed, except the +first few seconds when I didn't know what to do. Oh I thank you for +this! You were right. Whatever comes in life I always shall love to +remember that I was daintily dressed and appeared as well as I could +when I was married. But I must tell you I am not real. They did +everything on earth to me, three of them working at a time. I feel an +increase in self-respect in some way. David, I do appear better?” + +When she said “David,” the Harvester looked out of the window and gulped +down his delight. He leaned toward her. + +“Shut your eyes and imagine you see the red bird,” he said. “In my +soul, I am saying to you again and again just what he sang. You are +wonderfully beautiful, Ruth, and more than wonderfully sweet. Will you +answer me a question?” + +“If I can.” + +“I love you with all my heart. Will you marry me?” + +“I said I would.” + +“Then we are engaged, aren't we?” + +“Yes.” + +“Please remove the glove from your left hand. I want to put on your +ring. This will have to be a very short engagement, but no one save +ourselves need know.” + +“David, that isn't necessary.” + +“I have it here, and believe me, Ruth, it will help in a few minutes; +and all your life you will be glad. It is a precious symbol that has a +meaning. This wedding won't be hurt by putting all the sacredness into +it we can. Please, Ruth!” + +“On one condition.” + +“What is it?” + +“That you will accept and wear my mother's wedding ring in exchange,” + she said. “It is all I have.” + +“Ruth, do you really wish that?” + +“I do.” + +“I am more pleased than I can tell you. May I have it now?” + +She took off her glove and the Harvester held her hand closely a second, +then lifted it to his lips, passionately kissed it and slipped on a +ring, the setting a big, lustrous pearl. + +“I looked at some others,” he said, “but nothing got a second glance +save this. They knew you were coming down the ages, and so they got the +pearls ready. How beautiful it is on your hand! Put on the glove and +wear that ring as if you had owned it for the long, happy year of +betrothal every girl should have. You can start yours to-day, and if by +this time next year I have not won you to my heart and arms, I'm no +man and not worthy of you. Ruth, you will try just a little to love me, +won't you?” + +“I will try with all my heart,” she said instantly. + +“Thank you! I am perfectly happy with that. I never expected to marry +you before a year, anyway. All the difference will be the blessed fact +that instead of coming to see you somewhere else, I now can have you in +my care, and court you every minute. You might as well make up your mind +to capitulate soon. It's on the books that you do.” + +“If an instant ever comes when I realize that I love you, I will come +straight and tell you; believe me, I will.” + +“Thank you!” said the Harvester. “This is going to be quite a proper +wedding after all. Here is the place. It will be over soon and you on +the home way. Lord, Ruth----!” + +The Girl smiled at him as he opened the carriage door, helped her up the +steps and rang the bell. + +“Be brave now!” he whispered. “Don't lose your lovely colour. These +people will be as kind as they were at the store.” + +The minister was gentle and wasted no time. His wife and daughter, who +appeared for witnesses, kissed Ruth, and congratulated her. She and the +Harvester stood, took the vows, exchanged rings, and returned to the +carriage, a man and his wife by the laws of man. + +“Drive to Seaton's cafe',” the Harvester said. + +“Oh David, let us go home!” + +“This is so good I hate to stop it for something you may not like so +well. I ordered lunch and if we don't eat it I will have to pay for it +anyway. You wouldn't want me to be extravagant, would you?” + +“No,” said the Girl, “and besides, since you mention it, I believe I am +hungry.” + +“Good!” cried the Harvester. “I hoped so! Ruth, you wouldn't allow me +to hold your hand just until we reach the cafe'? It might save me from +bursting with joy.” + +“Yes,” she said. “But I must take off my lovely gloves first. I want to +keep them forever.” + +“I'd hate the glove being removed dreadfully,” said the Harvester, his +eyes dancing and snapping. + +“I'm sorry I am so thin and shaky,” said the Girl. “I will be steady and +plump soon, won't I?” + +“On your life you will,” said the Harvester, taking the hand gently. + +Now there are a number of things a man deeply in love can think of to do +with a woman's white hand. He can stroke it, press it tenderly, and lay +it against his lips and his heart. The Harvester lacked experience +in these arts, and yet by some wonderful instinct all of these things +occurred to him. There was real colour in the Girl's cheeks by the time +he helped her into the cafe'. They were guided to a small room, cool and +restful, close a window, beside which grew a tree covered with talking +leaves. A waiting attendant, who seemed perfectly adept, brought in +steaming bouillon, fragrant tea, broiled chicken, properly cooked +vegetables, a wonderful salad, and then delicious ices and cold fruit. +The happy Harvester leaned back and watched the Girl daintily manage +almost as much food as he wanted to see her eat. + +When they had finished, “Now we are going home,” he said. “Will you try +to like it, Ruth?” + +“Indeed I will,” she promised. “As soon as I grow accustomed to the +dreadful stillness, and learn what things will not bite me, I'll be +better.” + +“I'll have to ask you to wait a minute,” he said. “One thing I forgot. I +must hire a man to take Betsy home.” + +“Aren't you going to drive her yourself?” + +“No ma'am! We are going in a carriage or a motor,” said the Harvester. + +“Indeed we are not!” contradicted the Girl. “You have had this all your +way so far. I am going home behind Betsy, with Belshazzar at my knee.” + +“But your dress! People will think I am crazy to put a lovely woman like +you in a spring wagon.” + +“Let them!” said the Girl placidly. “Why should we bother about other +people? I am going with Betsy and Belshazzar.” + +The Harvester had been thinking that he adored her, that it was +impossible to love her more, but every minute was proving to him that he +was capable of feeling so profound it startled him. To carry the Girl, +his bride, through the valley and up the hill in the little spring wagon +drawn by Betsy--that would have been his ideal way. But he had supposed +that she would be afraid of soiling her dress, and embarrassed to ride +in such a conveyance. Instead it was her choice. Yes, he could love her +more. Hourly she was proving that. + +“Come this way a few steps,” he said. “Betsy is here.” + +The Girl laid her face against the nose of the faithful old animal, and +stroked her head and neck. Then she held her skirts and the Harvester +helped her into the wagon. She took the seat, and the dog went wild with +joy. + +“Come on, Bel,” she softly commanded. + +The dog hesitated, and looked at the Harvester for permission. + +“You may come here and put your head on my knee,” said the Girl. + +“Belshazzar, you lucky dog, you are privileged to sit there and lay your +head on the lady's lap,” said the Harvester, and the dog quivered with +joy. + +Then the man picked up the lines, gave a backward glance to the bed +of the wagon, high piled with large bundles, and turned Betsy toward +Medicine Woods. Through the crowded streets and toward the country they +drove, when a big red car passed, a man called to them, then reversed +and slowly began backing beside the wagon. The Harvester stopped. + +“That is my best friend, Doctor Carey, of the hospital, Ruth,” he said +hastily. “May I tell him, and will you shake hands with him?” + +“Certainly!” said the Girl. + +“Is it really you, David?” the doctor peered with gleaming eyes from +under the car top. + +“Really!” cried the Harvester, as man greets man with a full heart when +he is sure of sympathy. “Come, give us your best send-off, Doc! We were +married an hour ago. We are headed for Medicine Woods. Doctor Carey, +this is Mrs. Langston.” + +“Mighty glad to know you!” cried the doctor, reaching a happy hand. + +The Girl met it cordially, while she smiled on him. + +“How did this happen?” demanded the doctor. “Why didn't you let us know? +This is hardly fair of you, David. You might have let me and the Missus +share with you.” + +“That is to be explained,” said the Harvester. “It was decided on very +suddenly, and rather sadly, on account of the death of Mrs. Jameson. I +forced Ruth to marry me and come with me. I grow rather frightened when +I think of it, but it was the only way I knew. She absolutely refused my +other plans. You see before you a wild man carrying away a woman to his +cave.” + +“Don't believe him, Doctor!” laughed the Girl. “If you know him, you +will understand that to offer all he had was like him, when he saw my +necessity. You will come to see us soon?” + +“I'll come right now,” said the doctor. “I'll bring my wife and arrive +by the time you do.” + +“Oh no you won't!” said the Harvester. “Do you observe the bed of +this wagon? This happened all 'unbeknownst' to us. We have to set up +housekeeping after we reach home. We will notify you when we are ready +for visitors. Just you subside and wait until you are sent for.” + +“Why David!” cried the astonished Girl. + +“That's the law!” said the Harvester tersely. “Good-bye, Doc; we'll be +ready for you in a day or two.” + +He leaned down and held out his hand. The grip that caught it said all +any words could convey; and then Betsy started up the hill. + + + +CHAPTER XIII. WHEN THE DREAM CAME TRUE + +At first the road lay between fertile farms dotted with shocked wheat, +covered with undulant seas of ripening oats, and forests of growing +corn. The larks were trailing melody above the shorn and growing fields, +the quail were ingathering beside the fences, and from the forests on +graceful wings slipped the nighthawks and sailed and soared, dropping +so low that the half moons formed by white spots on their spread wings +showed plainly. + +“Why is this country so different from the other side of the city?” + asked the Girl. + +“It is older,” replied the Harvester, “and it lies higher. This was +settled and well cultivated when that was a swamp. But as a farming +proposition, the money is in the lowland like your uncle's. The crops +raised there are enormous compared with the yield of these fields.” + +“I see,” said she. “But this is much better to look at and the air is +different. It lacks a soggy, depressing quality.” + +“I don't allow any air to surpass that of Medicine Woods,” said the +Harvester, “by especial arrangement with the powers that be.” + +Then they dipped into a little depression and arose to cross the +railroad and then followed a longer valley that was ragged and unkempt +compared with the road between cultivated fields. The Harvester was busy +trying to plan what to do first, and how to do it most effectively, and +working his brain to think if he had everything the Girl would require +for her comfort; so he drove silently through the deepening shadows. She +shuddered and awoke him suddenly. He glanced at her from the corner of +his eye. + +Her thoughts had gone on a journey, also, and the way had been rough, +for her face wore a strained appearance. The hands lying bare in her lap +were tightly gripped, so that the nails and knuckles appeared blue. +The Harvester hastily cast around seeking for the cause of the +transformation. A few minutes ago she had seemed at ease and +comfortable, now she was close open panic. Nothing had been said that +would disturb her. With brain alert he searched for the reason. Then +it began to come to him. The unaccustomed silence and depression of the +country might have been the beginning. Coming from the city and crowds +of people to the gloomy valley with a man almost a stranger, going she +knew not where, to conditions she knew not what, with the experiences of +the day vivid before her. The black valley road was not prepossessing, +with its border of green pools, through which grew swamp bushes and +straggling vines. The Harvester looked carefully at the road, and ceased +to marvel at the Girl. But he disliked to let her know he understood, so +he gave one last glance at those gripped hands and casually held out the +lines. + +“Will you take these just a second?” he asked. “Don't let them touch +your dress. We must not lose of our load, because it's mostly things +that will make you more comfortable.” + +He arose, and turning, pretended to see that everything was all right. +Then he resumed his seat and drove on. + +“I am a little ashamed of this stretch through here,” he said +apologetically. “I could have managed to have it cleared and in better +shape long ago, but in a way it yields a snug profit, and so far I've +preferred the money. The land is not mine, but I could grub out this +growth entirely, instead of taking only what I need.” + +“Is there stuff here you use?” the Girl aroused herself to ask, and the +Harvester saw the look of relief that crossed her face at the sound of +his voice. + +“Well I should say yes,” he laughed. “Those bushes, numerous everywhere, +with the hanging yellow-green balls, those, in bark and root, go into +fever medicines. They are not so much used now, but sometimes I have a +call, and when I do, I pass the beds on my----on our land, and come down +here and get what is needed. That bush,” he indicated with the whip, +“blooms exquisitely in the spring. It is a relative of flowering +dogwood, and the one of its many names I like best is silky cornel. +Isn't that pretty?” + +“Yes,” she said, “it is beautiful.” + +“I've planted some for you in a hedge along the driveway so next spring +you can gather all you want. I think you'll like the odour. The bark +brings more than true dogwood. If I get a call from some house that uses +it, I save mine and come down here. Around the edge are hop trees, and +I realize something from them, and also the false and true bitter-sweet +that run riot here. Both of them have pretty leaves, while the berries +of the true hang all winter and the colour is gorgeous. I've set your +hedge closely with them. When it has grown a few months it's going to +furnish flowers in the spring, a million different, wonderful leaves +and berries in the summer, many fruits the birds love in the fall, and +bright berries, queer seed pods, and nuts all winter.” + +“You planted it for me?” + +“Yes. I think it will be beautiful in a season or two; it isn't so bad +now. I hope it will call myriads of birds to keep you company. When +you cross this stretch of road hereafter, don't see fetid water and +straggling bushes and vines; just say to yourself, this helps to fill +orders!” + +“I am perfectly tolerant of it now,” she said. “You make everything +different. I will come with you and help collect the roots and barks +you want. Which bush did you say relieved the poor souls scorching with +fever?” + +The Harvester drew on the lines, Betsy swerved to the edge of the road, +and he leaned and broke a branch. + +“This one,” he answered. “Buttonbush, because those balls resemble round +buttons. Aren't they peculiar? See how waxy and gracefully cut and set +the leaves are. Go on, Betsy, get us home before night. We appear our +best early in the morning, when the sun tops Medicine Woods and begins +to light us up, and in the evening, just when she drops behind Onabasha +back there, and strikes us with a few level rays. Will you take the +lines until I open this gate?” + +She laid the twig in her lap on the white gloves and took the lines. +As the gate swung wide, Betsy walked through and stopped at the usual +place. + +“Now my girl,” said the Harvester, “cross yourself, lean back, and take +your ease. This side that gate you are at home. From here on belongs to +us.” + +“To you, you mean,” said the Girl. + +“To us, I mean,” declared the Harvester. “Don't you know that the +'worldly goods bestowal' clause in a marriage ceremony is a partial +reality. It doesn't give you 'all my worldly goods,' but it gives you +one third. Which will you take, the hill, lake, marsh, or a part of all +of them.” + +“Oh, is there water?” + +“Did I forget to mention that I was formerly sole owner and proprietor +of the lake of Lost Loons, also a brook of Singing Water, and many cold +springs. The lake covers about one third of our land, and my neighbours +would allow me ditch outlet to the river, but they say I'm too lazy to +take it.” + +“Lazy! Do they mean drain your lake into the river?” + +“They do,” said the Harvester, “and make the bed into a cornfield.” + +“But you wouldn't?” + +She turned to him with confidence. + +“I haven't so far, but of course, when you see it, if you would prefer +it in a corn----Let's play a game! Turn your head in this direction,” + he indicated with the whip, “close your eyes, and open them when I say +ready.” + +“All right!” + +“Now!” said the Harvester. + +“Oh,” cried the Girl. “Stop! Please stop!” + +They were at the foot of a small levee that ran to the bridge crossing +Singing Water. On the left lay the valley through which the stream swept +from its hurried rush down the hill, a marshy thicket of vines, shrubs, +and bushes, the banks impassable with water growth. Everywhere flamed +foxfire and cardinal flower, thousands of wild tiger lilies lifted +gorgeous orange-red trumpets, beside pearl-white turtle head and moon +daisies, while all the creek bank was a coral line with the first +opening bloom of big pink mallows. Rank jewel flower poured gold from +dainty cornucopias and lavender beard-tongue offered honey to a million +bumbling bees; water smart-weed spread a glowing pink background, and +twining amber dodder topped the marsh in lacy mist with its delicate +white bloom. Straight before them a white-sanded road climbed to the +bridge and up a gentle hill between the young hedge of small trees and +bushes, where again flowers and bright colours rioted and led to the +cabin yet invisible. On the right, the hill, crowned with gigantic +forest trees, sloped to the lake; midway the building stood, and from +it, among scattering trees all the way to the water's edge, were immense +beds of vivid colour. Like a scarf of gold flung across the face of +earth waved the misty saffron, and beside the road running down the +hill, in a sunny, open space arose tree-like specimens of thrifty +magenta pokeberry. Down the hill crept the masses of colour, changing +from dry soil to water growth. + +High around the blue-green surface of the lake waved lacy heads of wild +rice, lower cat-tails, bulrushes, and marsh grasses; arrowhead lilies +lifted spines of pearly bloom, while yellow water lilies and blue water +hyacinths intermingled; here and there grew a pink stretch of water +smartweed and the dangling gold of jewel flower. Over the water, +bordering the edge, starry faces of white pond lilies floated. Blue +flags waved graceful leaves, willows grew in clumps, and vines clambered +everywhere. + +Among the growth of the lake shore, duck, coot, and grebe voices +commingled in the last chattering hastened splash of securing supper +before bedtime; crying killdeers crossed the water, and overhead the +nighthawks massed in circling companies. Betsy climbed the hill and at +every step the Girl cried, “Slower! please go slower!” With wide eyes +she stared around her. + +“WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME IT WOULD BE LIKE THIS?” she demanded in awed +tones. + +“Have I had opportunity to describe much of anything?” asked the +Harvester. “Besides, I was born and reared here, and while it has been +a garden of bloom for the past six years only, it always has been a +picture; but one forgets to say much about a sight seen every day and +that requires the work this does.” + +“That white mist down there, what is it?” she marvelled. + +“Pearls grown by the Almighty,” answered the Harvester. “Flowers that I +hope you will love. They are like you. Tall and slender, graceful, pearl +white and pearl pure----those are the arrowhead Lilies.” + +“And the wonderful purplish-red there on the bank? Oh, I could kneel and +pray before colour like that!' + +“Pokeberry!” said the Harvester. “Roots bring five cents a pound. Good +blood purifier.” + +“Man!” cried the Girl. “How can you? I'm not going to ask what another +colour is. I'll just worship what I like in silence.” + +“Will you forgive me if I tell you what a woman whose judgment I respect +says about that colour?” + +“Perhaps!” + +“She says, 'God proves that He loves it best of all the tints in His +workshop by using it first and most sparingly.' Now are you going to +punish me by keeping silent?” + +“I couldn't if I tried.” Just then they came upon the bridge crossing +Singing Water, and there was a long view of its border, rippling bed, +and marshy banks; while on the other hand the lake resembled a richly +incrusted sapphire. + +“Is the house close?” + +“Just a few rods, at the turn of the drive.” + +“Please help me down. I want to remain here a while. I don't care what +else there is to see. Nothing can equal this. I wish I could bring down +a bed and sleep here. I'd like to have a table, and draw and paint. I +understand now what you mean about the designs you mentioned. Why, there +must be thousands! I can't go on. I never saw anything so appealing in +all my life.” + +Now the Harvester's mother had designed that bridge and he had built +it with much care. From bark-covered railings to solid oak floor and +comfortable benches running along the sides it was intended to be a part +of the landscape. + +“I'll send Belshazzar to the cabin with the wagon,” he said, “so you can +see better.” + +“But you must not!” she cried. “I can't walk. I wouldn't soil these +beautiful shoes for anything.” + +“Why don't you change them?” inquired the Harvester. + +“I am afraid I forgot everything I had,” said the Girl. + +“There are shoes somewhere in this load. I thought of them in getting +other things for you, but I had no idea as to size, and so I told that +clerk to-day when she got your measure to put in every kind you'd need.” + +“You are horribly extravagant,” she said. “But if you have them here, +perhaps I could use one pair.” + +The Harvester mounted the wagon and hunted until he found a large box, +and opening it on the bench he disclosed almost every variety of shoe, +walking shoe and slipper, a girl ever owned, as well as sandals and high +overshoes. + +“For pity sake!” cried the Girl. “Cover that box! You frighten me. +You'll never get them paid for. You must take them straight back.” + +“Never take anything back,” said the Harvester. “'Be sure you are right, +then go ahead,' is my motto. Now I know these are your correct size +and that for differing occasions you will want just such shoes as other +girls have, and here they are. Simple as life! I think these will serve +because they are for street wear, yet they are white inside.” + +He produced a pair of canvas walking shoes and kneeling before her held +out his hand. + +When he had finished, he loaded the box on the wagon, gave the hitching +strap to Belshazzar, and told him to lead Betsy to the cabin and hold +her until he came. Then he turned to the Girl. + +“Now,” he said, “look as long as you choose. But remember that the law +gives you part of this and your lover, which same am I, gives you the +remainder, so you are privileged to come here at any hour as often as +you please. If you miss anything this evening, you have all time to come +in which to re-examine it.” + +“I'd like to live right here on this bridge,” she said. “I wish it had a +roof.” + +“Roof it to-morrow,” offered the Harvester. “Simple matter of a few +pillars already cut, joists joined, and some slab shingles left from the +cabin. Anything else your ladyship can suggest?” + +“That you be sensible.” + +“I was born that way,” explained the Harvester, “and I've cultivated the +faculty until I've developed real genius. Talking of sense, there never +was a proper marriage in which the man didn't give the woman a present. +You seem likely to be more appreciative of this bridge than anything +else I have, so right here and now would be the appropriate place to +offer you my wedding gift. I didn't have much time, but I couldn't have +found anything more suitable if I'd taken a year.” + +He held out a small, white velvet case. + +“Doesn't that look as if it were made for a bride?” he asked. + +“It does,” answered the Girl. “But I can't take it. You are not doing +right. Marrying as we did, you never can believe that I love you; maybe +it won't ever happen that I do. I have no right to accept gifts and +expensive clothing from you. In the first place, if the love you ask +never comes, there is no possible way in which I can repay you. In the +second, these things you are offering are not suitable for life and work +in the woods. In the third, I think you are being extravagant, and I +couldn't forgive myself if I allowed that.” + +“You divide your statements like a preacher, don't you?” asked the +Harvester ingenuously. “Now sit thee here and gaze on the placid lake +and quiet your troubled spirit, while I demolish your 'perfectly good' +arguments. In the first place, you are now my wife, and you have a +right to take anything I offer, if you care for it or can use it in any +manner. In the second, you must recognize a difference in our positions. +What seems nothing to you means all the world to me, and you are less +than human if you deprive me of the joy of expressing feelings I am in +honour bound to keep in my heart, by these little material offerings. In +the third place, I inherited over six hundred acres of land and water, +please observe the water----it is now in evidence on your left. All my +life I have been taught to be frugal, economical, and to work. All I've +earned either has gone back into land, into the bank, or into books, +very plain food, and such clothing as you now see me wearing. Just the +value of this place as it stands, with its big trees, its drug crops +yielding all the year round, would be difficult to estimate; and I don't +mind telling you that on the top of that hill there is a gold mine, and +it's mine----ours since four o'clock.” + +“A gold mine!” + +“Acres and acres of wild ginseng, seven years of age and ready to +harvest. Do you remember what your few pounds brought?” + +“Why it's worth thousands!” + +“Exactly! For your peace of mind I might add that all I have done or got +is paid for, except what I bought to-day, and I will write a check for +that as soon as the bill is made out. My bank account never will feel it +Truly, Ruth, I am not doing or going to do anything extravagant. I can't +afford to give you diamond necklaces, yachts, and trips to Europe; but +you can have the contents of this box and a motor boat on the lake, a +horse and carriage, and a trip----say to New York perfectly well. Please +take it.” + +“I wish you wouldn't ask me. I would be happier not to.” + +“Yes, but I do ask you,” persisted the Harvester. “You are not the +only one to be considered. I have some rights also, and I'm not so +self-effacing that I won't insist upon them. From your standpoint I +am almost a stranger. You have spent no time considering me in near +relations; I realize that. You feel as if you were driven here for +a refuge, and that is true. I said to Belshazzar one day that I must +remember that you had no dream, and had spent no time loving me, and +I do I know how this wedding seems to you, but it's going to mean +something different and better soon, please God. I can see your side; +now suppose you take a look at mine. I did have a dream, it was my +dream, and beyond the sum of any delight I ever conceived. On the +strength of it I rebuilt my home and remodelled these premises. Then +I saw you, and from that day I worked early and late. I lost you and I +never stopped until I found you; and I would have courted and won you, +but the fates intervened and here you are! So it's my delight to court +and win you now. If you knew the difference between having a dream that +stirred the least fibre of your being and facing the world in a demand +for realization of it, and then finding what you coveted in the palm +of your hand, as it were, you would know what is in my heart, and +why expression of some kind is necessary to me just now, and why I'll +explode if it is denied. It will lower the tension, if you will accept +this as a matter of fact; as if you rather expected and liked it, if you +can.” + +The Harvester set his finger on the spring. + +“Don't!” she said. “I'll never have the courage if you do. Give it to me +in the case, and let me open it. Despite your unanswerable arguments, I +am quite sure that is the only way in which I can take it.” + +The Harvester gave her the box. + +“My wedding gift!” she exclaimed, more to herself than to him. “Why +should I be the buffet of all the unkind fates kept in store for a girl +my whole life, and then suddenly be offered home, beautiful gifts, and +wonderful loving kindness by a stranger?” + +The Harvester ran his fingers through his crisp hair, pulled it into +a peak, stepped to the seat and sitting on the railing, he lifted his +elbows, tilted his head, and began a motley outpouring of half-spoken, +half-whistled trills and imploring cries. There was enough similarity +that the Girl instantly recognized the red bird. Out of breath the +Harvester dropped to the seat beside her. + +“And don't you keep forgetting it!” he cried. “Now open that box and +put on the trinket; because I want to take you to the cabin when the sun +falls level on the drive.” + +She opened the case, exposing a thread of gold that appeared too slender +for the weight of an exquisite pendant, set with shimmering pearls. + +“If you will look down there,” the Harvester pointed over the railing to +the arrowhead lilies touched with the fading light, “you will see that +they are similar.” + +“They are!” cried the Girl. “How lovely! Which is more beautiful I do +not know. And you won't like it if I say I must not.” + +She held the open case toward the Harvester. + +“'Possession is nine points in the law,'” he quoted. “You have taken +it already and it is in your hands; now make the gift perfect for me by +putting it on and saying nothing more.” + +“My wedding gift!” repeated the Girl. Slowly she lifted the beautiful +ornament and held it in the light. “I'm so glad you just force me to +take it,” she said. “Any half-normal girl would be delighted. I do +accept it. And what's more, I am going to keep and wear it and my ring +at suitable times all my life, in memory of what you have done to be +kind to me on this awful day.” + +“Thank you!” said the Harvester. “That is a flash of the proper spirit. +Allow me to put it on you.” + +“No!” said the Girl. “Not yet! After a while! I want to hold it in my +hands, where I can see it!” + +“Now there is one other thing,” said the Harvester. + +“If I had known for any length of time that this day was coming and +bringing you, as most men know when a girl is to be given into their +care, I could have made it different. As it is, I've done the best I +knew. All your after life I hope you will believe this: Just that if you +missed anything to-day that would have made it easier for you or more +pleasant, the reason was because of my ignorance of women and the +conventions, and lack of time. I want you to know and to feel that in my +heart those vows I took were real. This is undoubtedly all the marrying +I will ever want to do. I am old-fashioned in my ways, and deeply imbued +with the spirit of the woods, and that means unending evolution along +the same lines. + +“To me you are my revered and beloved wife, my mate now; and I am sure +nothing will make me feel any different. This is the day of my marriage +to the only woman I ever have thought of wedding, and to me it is joy +unspeakable. With other men such a day ends differently from the close +of this with me. Because I have done and will continue to do the level +best I know for you, this oration is the prologue to asking you for +one gift to me from you, a wedding gift. I don't want it unless you can +bestow it ungrudgingly, and truly want me to have it. If you can, I will +have all from this day I hope for at the hands of fate. May I have the +gift I ask of you, Ruth?” + +She lifted startled eyes to his face. + +“Tell me what it is?” she breathed. + +“It may seem much to you,” said the Harvester; “to me it appears only +a gracious act, from a wonderful woman, if you will give me freely, one +real kiss. I've never had one, save from a Dream Girl, Ruth, and you +will have to make yours pretty good if it is anything like hers. You are +woman enough to know that most men crush their brides in their arms and +take a thousand. I'll put my hands behind me and never move a muscle, +and I won't ask for more, if you will crown my wedding day with only one +touch of your lips. Will you kiss me just once, Ruth?” + +The Girl lifted a piteous face down which big tears suddenly rolled. + +“Oh Man, you shame me!” she cried. “What kind of a heart have I that it +fails to respond to such a plea? Have I been overworked and starved so +long there is no feeling in me? I don't understand why I don't take you +in my arms and kiss you a hundred times, but you see I don't. It doesn't +seem as if I ever could.” + +“Never mind,” said the Harvester gently. “It was only a fancy of mine, +bred from my dream and unreasonable, perhaps. I am sorry I mentioned it. +The sun is on the stoop now; I want you to enter your home in its light. +Come!” + +He half lifted her from the bench. “I am going to help you up the +drive as I used to assist mother,” he said, fighting to keep his voice +natural. “Clasp your hands before you and draw your elbows to your +sides. Now let me take one in each palm, and you will scoot up this +drive as if you were on wheels.” + +“But I don't want to 'scoot',” she said unsteadily. “I must go slowly +and not miss anything.” + +“On the contrary, you don't want to do any such thing----you should +leave most of it for to-morrow.” + +“I had forgotten there would be any to-morrow. It seems as if the day +would end it and set me adrift again.” + +“You are going to awake in the gold room with the sun shining on your +face in the morning, and it's going to keep on all your life. Now if +you've got a smile in your anatomy, bring it to the surface, for just +beyond this tree lies happiness for you.” + +His voice was clear and steady now, his confidence something contagious. +There was a lovely smile on her face as she looked at him, and stepped +into the line of light crossing the driveway; and then she stopped +and cried, “Oh lovely! Lovely! Lovely!” over and over. Then maybe the +Harvester was not glad he had planned, worked unceasingly, and builded +as well as he knew. + +The cabin of large, peeled, golden oak logs, oiled to preserve them, +nestled like a big mushroom on the side of the hill. Above and behind +the building the trees arose in a green setting. The roof was stained +to their shades. The wide veranda was enclosed in screening, over which +wonderful vines climbed in places, and round it grew ferns and deep-wood +plants. Inside hung big baskets of wild growth; there was a wide +swinging seat, with a back rest, supported by heavy chains. There were +chairs and a table of bent saplings and hickory withes. Two full +stories the building arose, and the western sun warmed it almost to +orange-yellow, while the graceful vines crept toward the roof. + +The Girl looked at the rapidly rising hedge on each side of her, at the +white floor of the drive, and long and long at the cabin. + +“You did all this since February?” she asked. + +“Even to transforming the landscape,” answered the Harvester. + +“Oh I wish it was not coming night!” she cried. “I don't want the dark +to come, until you have told me the name of every tree and shrub of that +wonderful hedge, and every plant and vine of the veranda; and oh I want +to follow up the driveway and see that beautiful little creek--listen +to it chuckle and laugh! Is it always glad like that? See the ferns +and things that grow on the other side of it! Why there are big beds of +them. And lilies of the valley by the acre! What is that yellow around +the corner?” + +“Never mind that now,” said the Harvester, guiding her up the steps, +along the gravelled walk to the screen that he opened, and over a flood +of gold light she crossed the veranda, and entered the door. + +“Now here it appears bare,” said the Harvester, “because I didn't know +what should go on the walls or what rugs to get or about the windows. +The table, chairs, and couch I made myself with some help from a +carpenter. They are solid black walnut and will age finely.” + +“They are beautiful,” said the Girl, softly touching the shining table +top with her fingers. “Please put the necklace on me now, I have to use +my eyes and hands for other things.” + +She held out the box and the Harvester lifted the pendant and clasped +the chain around her neck. She glanced at the lustrous pearls and then +the fingers of one hand softly closed over them. She went through the +long, wide living-room, examining the chairs and mantel, stopping to +touch and exclaim over its array of half-finished candlesticks. At the +door of his room she paused. “And this?” she questioned. + +“Mine,” said the Harvester, turning the knob. “I'll give you one peep +to satisfy your curiosity, and show you the location of the bridge over +which you came to me in my dream. All the remainder is yours. I reserve +only this.” + +“Will the 'goblins git me' if I come here?” + +“Not goblins, but a man alive; so heed your warning. After you have seen +it, keep away.” + +The floor was cement, three of the walls heavy screening with mosquito +wire inside, the roof slab shingled. On the inner wall was a bookcase, +below it a desk, at one side a gun cabinet, at the other a bath in a +small alcove beside a closet. The room contained two chairs like those +of the veranda, and the bed was a low oak couch covered with a thick +mattress of hemlock twigs, topped with sweet fern, on which the sun +shone all day. On a chair at the foot were spread some white sheets, a +blanket, and an oilcloth. The sun beat in, the wind drifted through, +and one lying on the couch could see down the bright hill, and sweep the +lake to the opposite bank without lifting the head. The Harvester drew +the Girl to the bedside. + +“Now straight in a line from here,” he said, “across the lake to that +big, scraggy oak, every clear night the moon builds a bridge of molten +gold, and once you walked it, my girl, and came straight to me, alone +and unafraid; and you were gracious and lovely beyond anything a man +ever dreamed of before. I'll have that to think of to-night. Now come +see the dining-room, kitchen, and hand-made sunshine.” + +He led her into what had been the front room of the old cabin, now +a large, long dining-room having on each side wide windows with deep +seats. The fireplace backwall was against that of the living-room, but +here the mantel was bare. All the wood-work, chairs, the dining table, +cupboards, and carving table were golden oak. Only a few rugs and +furnishings and a woman's touch were required to make it an unusual and +beautiful room. The kitchen was shining with a white hard-wood floor, +white wood-work, and pale green walls. It was a light, airy, sanitary +place, supplied with a pump, sink, hot and cold water faucets, +refrigerator, and every modern convenience possible to the country. + +Then the Harvester almost carried the Girl up the stairs and showed her +three large sleeping rooms, empty and bare save for some packing cases. + +“I didn't know about these, so I didn't do anything. When you find +time to plan, tell me what you want, and I'll make--or buy it. They +are good-sized, cool rooms. They all have closets and pipes from the +furnace, so they will be comfortable in winter. Now there is your place +remaining. I'll leave you while I stable Betsy and feed the stock.” + +He guided her to the door opening from the living-room to the east. + +“This is the sunshine spot,” he said. “It is bathed in morning light, +and sheltered by afternoon shade. Singing Water is across the drive +there to talk to you always. It comes pelting down so fast it never +freezes, so it makes music all winter, and the birds are so numerous +you'll have to go to bed early for they'll wake you by dawn. I noticed +this room was going to be full of sunshine when I built it, and I craved +only brightness for you, so I coaxed all of it to stay that I could. +Every stroke is the work of my hands, and all of the furniture. I hope +you will like it. This is the room of which I've been telling you, Ruth. +Go in and take possession, and I'll entreat God and all His ministering +angels to send you sunshine and joy.” + +He opened the door, guided her inside, closed it, and went swiftly to +his work. + +The Girl stood and looked around her with amazed eyes. The floor was +pale yellow wood, polished until it shone like a table top. The casings, +table, chairs, dressing table, chest of drawers, and bed were solid +curly maple. The doors were big polished slabs of it, each containing +enough material to veneer all the furniture in the room. The walls +were of plaster, tinted yellow, and the windows with yellow shades were +curtained in dainty white. She could hear the Harvester carrying the +load from the wagon to the front porch, the clamour of the barn yard; +and as she went to the north window to see the view, a shining peacock +strutted down the walk and went to the Harvester's hand for grain, while +scores of snow-white doves circled over his head. She stepped on deep +rugs of yellow goat skins, and, glancing at the windows on either side, +she opened the door. + +Outside it lay a porch with a railing, but no roof. On each post stood a +box filled with yellow wood-flowers and trailing vines of pale green. +A big tree rising through one corner of the floor supplied the cover. A +gate opened to a walk leading to the driveway, and on either side lay +a patch of sod, outlined by a deep hedge of bright gold. In it saffron, +cone-flowers, black-eyed Susans, golden-rod, wild sunflowers, and jewel +flower grew, and some of it, enough to form a yellow line, was already +in bloom. Around the porch and down the walk were beds of yellow +violets, pixie moss, and every tiny gold flower of the woods. The Girl +leaned against the tree and looked around her and then staggered inside +and dropped on the couch. + +“What planning! What work!” she sobbed. “What taste! Why he's a poet! +What wonderful beauty! He's an artist with earth for his canvas, and +growing things for colours.” + +She lay there staring at the walls, the beautiful wood-work and +furniture, the dressing table with its array of toilet articles, a +low chair before it, and the thick rug for her feet. Over and over she +looked at everything, and then closed her eyes and lay quietly, too +weary and overwhelmed to think. By and by came tapping at the door, and +she sprang up and crossing to the dressing table straightened her hair +and composed her face. + +“Ajax demands to see you,” cried a gay voice. + +The Girl stepped outside. + +“Don't be frightened if he screams at you,” warned the Harvester as she +passed him. “He detests a stranger, and he always cries and sulks.” + +It was a question what was in the head of the bird as he saw the strange +looking creature invading his domain, and he did scream, a wild, high, +strident wail that delighted the Harvester inexpressibly, because it +sent the Girl headlong into his arms. + +“Oh, good gracious!” she cried. “Has such a beautiful bird got a noise +in it like that? Why I've fed them in parks and I never heard one +explode before.” + +Then how the Harvester laughed. + +“But you see you are in the woods now, and this is not a park bird. It +will be the test of your power to see how soon you can coax him to your +hand.” + +“How do I work to win him?” + +“I am afraid I can't tell you that,” said the Harvester. “I had to +invent a plan for myself. It required a long time and much petting, and +my methods might not avail for you. It will interest you to study that +out. But the member of the family it is positively essential that you +win to a life and death allegiance is Belshazzar. If you can make him +love you, he will protect you at every turn. He will go before you into +the forest and all the crawling, creeping things will get out of his +way. He will nose around the flowers you want to gather, and if he +growls and the hair on the back of his neck rises, never forget that +you must heed that warning. A few times I have not stopped for it, and I +always have been sorry. So far as anything animate or uncertain footing +is concerned, you are always perfectly safe if you obey him. About +touching plants and flowers, you must confine yourself to those you +are certain you know, until I can teach you. There are gorgeous and +wonderfully attractive things here, but some of them are rank poison. +You won't handle plants you don't know, until you learn, Ruth?” + +“I will not,” she promised instantly. + +She went to the seat under the porch tree and leaning against the trunk +she studied the hill, and the rippling course of Singing Water where it +turned and curved before the cabin, and started across the vivid little +marsh toward the lake. Then she looked at the Harvester. He seated +himself on the low railing and smiled at her. + +“You are very tired?” he asked. + +“No,” she said. “You are right about the air being better up here. It is +stimulating instead of depressing.” + +“So far as pure air, location, and water are concerned,” said the +Harvester, “I consider this place ideal. The lake is large enough to +cool the air and raise sufficient moisture to dampen it, and too small +to make it really cold and disagreeable. The slope of the hill gives +perfect drainage. The heaviest rains do not wet the earth for more than +three hours. North, south, and west breezes sweep the cool air from the +water to the cabin in summer. The same suns warm us here on the winter +hillside. My violets, spring beauties, anemones, and dutchman's breeches +here are always two weeks ahead of those in the woods. I am not afraid +of your not liking the location or the air. As for the cabin, if +you don't care for that, it's very simple. I'll transform it into a +laboratory and dry-house, and build you whatever you want, within my +means, over there on the hill just across Singing Water and facing +the valley toward Onabasha. That's a perfect location. The thing that +worries me is what you are going to do for company, especially while I +am away.” + +“Don't trouble yourself about anything,” she said. “Just say in your +heart, 'she is going to be stronger than she ever has been in her life +in this lovely place, and she has more right now than she ever had or +hoped to have.' For one thing, I am going to study your books. I never +have had time before. While we sewed or embroidered, mother talked by +the hour of the great writers of the world, told me what they wrote, +and how they expressed themselves, but I got to read very little for +myself.” + +“Books are my company,” said the Harvester. + +“Do your friends come often?” + +“Almost never! Doc and his wife come most, and if you look out some day +and see a white-haired, bent old woman, with a face as sweet as dawn, +coming up the bank of Singing Water, that will be my mother's friend, +Granny Moreland, who joins us on the north over there. She is frank and +brusque, so she says what she thinks with unmistakable distinctness, +but her heart is big and tender and her philosophy keeps her sweet and +kindly despite the ache of rheumatism and the weight of seventy years.” + +“I'd love to have her come,” said the Girl. “Is that all?” + +“Yes.” + +“Why?” + +“Your favourite word,” laughed the Harvester. “The reason lies with me, +or rather with my mother. Some day I will tell you the whole story, +and the cause. I think now I can encompass it in this. The place is an +experiment. When medicinal herbs, roots, and barks became so scarce that +some of the most important were almost extinct, it occurred to me that +it would be a good idea to stop travelling miles and poaching on the +woods of other people, and turn our land into an herb garden. For four +years before mother went, and six since, I've worked with all my might, +and results are beginning to take shape. While I've been at it, of +course, my neighbours had an inkling of what was going on, and I've been +called a fool, lazy, and a fanatic, because I did not fell the trees and +plow for corn. You readily can see I'm a little short of corn ground out +there,” he waved toward the marsh and lake, “and up there,” he indicated +the steep hill and wood. “But somewhere on this land I've been able to +find muck for mallows, water for flags and willows, shade for ferns, +lilies, and ginseng, rocky, sunny spaces for mullein, and open, fertile +beds for Bouncing Bet----just for examples. God never evolved a place +better suited for an herb farm; from woods to water and all that goes +between, it is perfect.” + +“And indescribably lovely,” added the Girl. + +“Yes, I think it is,” said the Harvester. “But in the days when I didn't +know how it was coming out, I was sensitive about it; so I kept quiet +and worked, and allowed the other fellow to do the talking. After a +while the ginseng bed grew a treasure worth guarding, and I didn't +care for any one to know how much I had or where it was, as a matter +of precaution. Ginseng and money are synonymous, and I was forced to be +away some of the time.” + +“Would any one take it?” + +“Certainly!” said the Harvester. “If they knew it was there, and what +it is worth. Then, as I've told you, much of the stuff here must not be +handled except by experts, and I didn't want people coming in my absence +and taking risks. The remainder of my reason for living so alone is +cowardice, pure and simple.” + +“Cowardice? You! Oh no!” + +“Thank you!” said the Harvester. “But it is! Some day I'll tell you of +a very solemn oath I've had to keep. It hasn't been easy. You wouldn't +understand, at least not now. If the day ever comes when I think you +will, I'll tell you. Just now I can express it by that one word. I +didn't dare fail or I felt I would be lost as my father was before me. +So I remained away from the city and its temptations and men of my age, +and worked in the woods until I was tired enough to drop, read books +that helped, tinkered with the carving, and sometimes I had an idea, +and I went into that little building behind the dry-house, took out my +different herbs, and tried my hand at compounding a new cure for some of +the pains of humanity. It isn't bad work, Ruth. It keeps a fellow at +a fairly decent level, and some good may come of it. Carey is trying +several formulae for me, and if they work I'll carry them higher. If you +want money, Girl, I know how to get it for you.” + +“Don't you want it?” + +“Not one cent more than I've got,” said the Harvester emphatically. +“When any man accumulates more than he can earn with his own hands, he +begins to enrich himself at the expense of the youth, the sweat, the +blood, the joy of his fellow men. I can go to the city, take a look, and +see what money does, as a rule, and it's another thing I'm afraid of. +You will find me a dreadful coward on those two points. I don't want to +know society and its ways. I see what it does to other men; it would be +presumption to reckon myself stronger. So I live alone. As for money, +I've watched the cross cuts and the quick and easy ways to accumulate +it; but I've had something in me that held me to the slow, sure, clean +work of my own hands, and it's yielded me enough for one, for two even, +in a reasonable degree. So I've worked, read, compounded, and carved. If +I couldn't wear myself down enough to sleep by any other method, I went +into the lake, and swam across and back; and that is guaranteed to put +any man to rest, clean and unashamed.” + +“Six years,” said the Girl softly, as she studied him. “I think it has +set a mark on you. I believe I can trace it. Your forehead, brow, +and eyes bear the lines and the appearance of all experience, all +comprehension, but your lips are those of a very young lad. I shouldn't +be surprised if I had that kiss ready for you, and I really believe I +can make it worth while.” + +“Oh good Lord!” cried the Harvester, turning a backward somersault over +the railing and starting in big bounds up the drive toward the stable. +He passed around it and into the woods at a rush and a few seconds later +from somewhere on the top of the hill his strong, deep voice swept down, +“Glory, glory hallelujah!” + +He sang it through at the top of his lungs, that majestic old hymn, +but there was no music at all, it was simply a roar. By and by he came +soberly to the barn and paused to stroke Betsy's nose. + +“Stop chewing grass and listen to me,” he said. “She's here, Betsy! +She's in our cabin. She's going to remain, you can stake your oats +on that. She's going to be the loveliest and sweetest girl in all the +world, and because you're a beast, I'll tell you something a man never +could know. Down with your ear, you critter! She's going to kiss me, +Betsy! This very night, before I lay me, her lips meet mine, and maybe +you think that won't be glorious. I supposed it would be a year, anyway, +but it's now! Ain't you glad you are an animal, Betsy, and can keep +secrets for a fool man that can't?” + +He walked down the driveway, and before the Girl had a chance to speak, +he said, “I wonder if I had not better carry those things into your +room, and arrange your bed for you.” + +“I can,” she said. + +“Oh no!” exclaimed the Harvester. “You can't lift the mattress and heavy +covers. Hold the door and tell me how.” + +He laid a big bundle on the floor, opened it, and took out the shoes. + +“Your shoe box is in the closet there.” + +“I didn't know what that door was, so I didn't open it.” + +“That is a part of my arrangements for you,” said the Harvester. “Here +is a closet with shelves for your covers and other things. They are bare +because I didn't know just what should be put on them. This is the shoe +box here in the corner; I'll put these in it now.” + +He knelt and in a row set the shoes in the curly maple box and closed +it. + +“There you are for all kinds of places and varieties of weather. +This adjoining is your bathroom. I put in towels, soaps; brushes, +and everything I could think of, and there is hot water ready for +you----rain water, too.” + +The Girl followed and looked into a shining little bathroom, with its +white porcelain tub and wash bowl, enamelled wood-work, dainty green +walls, and white curtains and towels. She could see no accessory she +knew of that was missing, and there were many things to which she never +had been accustomed. The Harvester had gone back to the sunshine room, +and was kneeling on the floor beside the bundle. He began opening boxes +and handing her dresses. + +“There are skirt, coat, and waist hangers on the hooks,” he said. “I +only got a few things to start on, because I didn't know what you would +like. Instead of being so careful with that dress, why don't you take it +off, and put on a common one? Then we will have something to eat, and go +to the top of the hill and watch the moon bridge the lake.” + +While she hung the dresses and selected the one to wear, he placed the +mattress, spread the padding and sheets, and encased the pillow. Then he +bent and pressed the springs with his hands. + +“I think you will find that soft and easy enough for health,” he said. +“All the personal belongings I had that clerk put up for you are in that +chest of drawers there. I put the little boxes in the top and went down. +You can empty and arrange them to-morrow. Just hunt out what you will +need now. There should be everything a girl uses there somewhere. I told +them to be very careful about that. If the things are not right or not +to your taste, you can take them back as soon as you are rested, and +they will exchange them for you. If there is anything I have missed that +you can think of that you need to-night, tell me and I'll go and get +it.” + +The Girl turned toward him. + +“You couldn't be making sport of me,” she said, “but Man! Can't you see +that I don't know what to do with half you have here? I never saw such +things closely before. I don't know what they are for. I don't know how +to use them. My mother would have known, but I do not. You overwhelm me! +Fifty times I've tried to tell you that a room of my very own, such +a room as this will be when to-morrow's sun comes in, and these, and +these, and these,” she turned from the chest of boxes to the dressing +table, bed, closet, and bath, “all these for me, and you know absolutely +nothing about me----I get a big lump in my throat, and the words that +do come all seem so meaningless, I am perfectly ashamed to say them. Oh +Man, why do you do it?” + +“I thought it was about time to spring another 'why' on me,” said the +Harvester. “Thank God, I am now in a position where I can tell you +'why'! I do it because you are the girl of my dream, my mate by every +law of Heaven and earth. All men build as well as they know when the one +woman of the universe lays her spell on them. I did all this for myself +just as a kind of expression of what it would be in my heart to do if I +could do what I'd like. Put on the easiest dress you can find and I will +go and set out something to eat.” + +She stood with arms high piled with the prettiest dresses that could be +selected hurriedly, the tears running down her white cheeks and smiled +through them at him. + +“There wouldn't be any of that liquid amber would there?” she asked. + +“Quarts!” cried the Harvester. “I'll bring some. ... Does it really hit +the spot, Ruth?” he questioned as he handed her the glass. + +She heaped the dresses on the bed and took it. + +“It really does. I am afraid I am using too much.” + +“I don't think it possibly can hurt you. To-morrow we will ask Doc. How +soon will you be ready for lunch?” + +“I don't want a bite.” + +“You will when you see and smell it,” said the Harvester. “I am an +expert cook. It's my chiefest accomplishment. You should taste the +dishes I improvise. But there won't be much to-night, because I want you +to see the moon rise over the lake.” + +He went away and the Girl removed her dress and spread it on the couch. +Then she bathed her face and hands. When she saw the discoloured cloth, +it proved that she had been painted, and made her very indignant. Yet +she could not be altogether angry, for that flush of colour had saved +the Harvester from being pitied by his friend. She stood a long time +before the mirror, staring at her gaunt, colourless face; then she went +to the dressing table and committed a crime. She found a box of cream +and rubbed it on for a foundation. Then she opened some pink powder, and +carefully dusted her cheeks. + +“I am utterly ashamed,” she said to the image in the mirror, “but he +has done so much for me, he is so, so----I don't know a word big +enough----that I can't bear him to see how ghastly I am, how little +worth it. Perhaps the food, better air, and outdoor exercise will give +me strength and colour soon. Until it does I'm afraid I'm going to help +out all I can with this. It is wonderful how it changes one. I really +appear like a girl instead of a bony old woman.” + +Then she looked over the dresses, selected a pretty white princesse, +slipped it on, and went to the kitchen. But the Harvester would not +have her there. He seated her at the dining table, beside the window +overlooking the lake, lighted a pair of his home-made candles in his +finest sticks, and placed before her bread, butter, cold meat, milk, and +fruit, and together they ate their first meal in their home. + +“If I had known,” said the Harvester, “Granny Moreland is a famous cook. +She is a Southern woman, and she can fry chicken and make some especial +dishes to surpass any one I ever knew. She would have been so pleased to +come over and get us an all-right supper.” + +“I'd much rather have this, and be by ourselves,” said the Girl. + +“Well, you can bank on it, I would,” agreed the Harvester. “For +instance, if any one were here, I might feel restrained about telling +you that you are exactly the beautiful, flushed Dream Girl I have adored +for months, and your dress most becoming. You are a picture to blind the +eyes of a lonely bachelor, Ruth.” + +“Oh why did you say that?” wailed the Girl. “Now I've got to feel like a +sneak or tell you----and I didn't want you to know.” + +“Don't you ever tell me or any one else anything you don't want to,” + said the Harvester roundly. “It's nobody's business!” + +“But I must! I can't begin with deception. I was fool enough to think +you wouldn't notice. Man, they painted me! I didn't know they were doing +it, but when it all washed off, I looked so ghastly I almost frightened +myself. I hunted through the boxes they put up for you and found some +pink powder----” + +“But don't all the daintiest women powder these days, and consider it +indispensable? The clerk said so, and I've noticed it mentioned in the +papers. I bought it for you to use.” + +“Yes, just powder, but Man, I put on a lot of cold cream first to stick +the powder good and thick. Oh I wish I hadn't!” + +“Well since you've told it, is your conscience perfectly at ease? No +you don't! You sit where you are! You are lovely, and if you don't use +enough powder to cover the paleness, until your colour returns, I'll +hold you and put it on. I know you feel better when you appear so that +every one must admire you.” + +“Yes, but I'm a fraud!” + +“You are no such thing!” cried the Harvester hotly. “There hasn't a +woman in ten thousand got any such rope of hair. I have been seeing the +papers on the hair question, too. No one will believe it's real. If they +think your hair is false, when it is natural, they won't be any more +fooled when they think your colour is real, and it isn't. Very soon it +will be and no one need ever know the difference. You go on and fix up +your level best. To see yourself appearing well will make you ambitious +to become so as soon as possible.” + +“Harvester-man,” said the Girl, gazing at him with wet luminous eyes, +“for the sake of other women, I could wish that all men had an oath to +keep, and had been reared in the woods.” + +“Here is the place we adjourn to the moon,” cried the Harvester. “I +don't know of anything that can cure a sudden accession of swell +head like gazing at the heavens. One finds his place among the atoms +naturally and instantaneously with the eyes on the night sky. Should +you have a wrap? You should! The mists from the lake are cool. I don't +believe there is one among my orders. I forgot that. But upstairs with +mother's clothing there are several shawls and shoulder capes. All of +them were washed and carefully packed. Would you use one, Ruth?” + +“Why not give it to me. Wouldn't she like me to wear her things better +than to have them lying in moth balls?” + +The Harvester looked at her and shook his head, marvelling. + +“I can't tell how pleased she would be,” he said. + +“Where are her belongings?” asked the Girl. “I could use them to help +furnish the house, and it wouldn't appear so strange to you.” + +The Harvester liked that. + +“All the washed things are in those boxes upstairs; also some fine skins +I've saved on the chance of wanting them. Her dishes are in the bottom +of the china closet there; she was mighty proud of them. The furniture +and carpets were so old and abused I burned them. I'll go bring a wrap.” + +He took the candle and climbed the stairs, soon returning with a little +white wool shawl and a big pink coverlet. + +“Got this for her Christmas one time,” he said. “She'd never had a white +one and she thought it was pretty.” + +He folded it around the Girl's shoulders and picked up the coverlet. + +“You're never going to take that to the woods!” she cried. + +“Why not?” + +She took it in her hands to find a corner. + +“Just as I thought! It's a genuine Peter Hartman! It's one of the things +that money can't buy, or, rather, one that takes a mint of money to own. +They are heirlooms. They are not manufactured any more. At the art store +where I worked they'd give you fifty dollars for that. It is not faded +or worn a particle. It would be lovely in my room; you mustn't take a +treasure like that out of doors.” + +“Ruth, are you in earnest?” demanded the Harvester. “I believe there are +six of them upstairs.” + +“Plutocrat!” cried the Girl. “What colours?” + +“More of this pinkish red, blue, and pale green.” + +“Famous! May I have them to help furnish with to-morrow?” + +“Certainly! Anything you can find, any way on earth you want it, only +in my room. That is taboo, as I told you. What am I going to take +to-night?” + +“Isn't the rug you had in the woods in the wagon yet? Use that!” + +“Of course! The very thing! Bel, proceed!” + +“Are you going to leave the house like this?” + +“Why not?” + +“Suppose some one breaks in!” + +“Nothing worth carrying away, except what you have on. No one to get in. +There is a big swamp back of our woods, marsh in front, we're up here +where we can see the drive and bridge. There is nothing possible from +any direction. Never locked the cabin in my life, except your room, and +that was because it was sacred, not that there was any danger. Clear the +way, Bel!” + +“Clear it of what?” + +“Katydids, hoptoads, and other carnivorous animals.” + +“Now you are making fun of me! Clear it of what?” + +“A coon that might go shuffling across, an opossum, or a snake going to +the lake. Now are you frightened so that you will not go?” + +“No. The path is broad and white and surely you and Bel can take care of +me.” + +“If you will trust us we can.” + +“Well, I am trusting you.” + +“You are indeed,” said the Harvester. “Now see if you think this is +pretty.” + +He indicated the hill sloping toward the lake. The path wound among +massive trees, between whose branches patches of moonlight filtered. +Around the lake shore and climbing the hill were thickets of bushes. +The water lay shining in the light, a gentle wind ruffled the surface +in undulant waves, and on the opposite bank arose the line of big +trees. Under a giant oak widely branching, on the top of the hill, the +Harvester spread the rug and held one end of it against the tree trunk +to protect the Girl's dress. Then he sat a little distance away and +began to talk. He mingled some sense with a quantity of nonsense, and +appreciated every hint of a laugh he heard. The day had been no amusing +matter for a girl absolutely alone among strange people and scenes. +Anything more foreign to her previous environment or expectations he +could not imagine. So he talked to prevent her from thinking, and worked +for a laugh as he laboured for bread. + +“Now we must go,” he said at last. “If there is the malaria I strongly +suspect in your system, this night air is none too good for you. I only +wanted you to see the lake the first night in your new home, and if it +won't shock you, I brought you here because this is my holy of holies. +Can you guess why I wanted you to come, Ruth?” + +“If I wasn't so stupid with alternate burning and chills, and so +deadened to every proper sensibility, I suppose I could,” she answered, +“but I'm not brilliant. I don't know, unless it is because you knew it +would be the loveliest place I ever saw. Surely there is no other spot +in the world quite so beautiful.” + +“Then would it seem strange to you,” asked the Harvester going to the +Girl and gently putting his arms around her, “would it seem strange to +you, that a woman who once homed here and thought it the prettiest place +on earth, chose to remain for her eternal sleep, rather than to rest in +a distant city of stranger dead?” + +He felt the Girl tremble against him. + +“Where is she?” + +“Very close,” said the Harvester. “Under this oak. She used to say that +she had a speaking acquaintance with every tree on our land, and of them +all she loved this big one the best. She liked to come here in winter, +and feel the sting of the wind sweeping across the lake, and in summer +this was her place to read and to think. So when she slept the unwaking +sleep, Ruth, I came here and made her bed with my own hands, and then +carried her to it, covered her, and she sleeps well. I never have +regretted her going. Life did not bring her joy. She was very tired. +She used to say that after her soul had fled, if I would lay her here, +perhaps the big roots would reach down and find her, and from her frail +frame gather slight nourishment and then her body would live again in +talking leaves that would shelter me in summer and whisper her love in +winter. Of all Medicine Woods this is the dearest spot to me. Can you +love it too, Ruth?” + +“Oh I can!” cried the Girl; “I do now! Just to see the place and hear +that is enough. I wish, oh to my soul I wish----” + +“You wish what?” whispered the Harvester gently. + +“I dare not! I was wild to think of it. I would be ungrateful to ask +it.” + +“You would be ungracious if you didn't ask anything that would give +me the joy of pleasing you. How long is it going to require for you +to learn, Ruth, that to make up for some of the difficulties life has +brought you would give me more happiness than anything else could? Tell +me now.” + +“No!” + +He gathered her closer. + +“Ruth, there is no reason why you should be actively unkind to me. What +is it you wish?” + +She struggled from his arms and stood alone in white moonlight, staring +across the lake, along the shore, deep into the perfumed forest, and +then at the mound she now could distinguish under the giant tree. +Suddenly she went to him and with both shaking hands gripped his arm. + +“My mother!” she panted. “Oh she was a beautiful woman, delicately +reared, and her heart was crushed and broken. By the inch she went to +a dreadful end I could not avert or allay, and in poverty and grime I +fought for a way to save her body from further horror, and it's all so +dreadful I thought all feeling in me was dried and still, but I am not +quite calloused yet. I suffer it over with every breath. It is never +entirely out of my mind. Oh Man, if only you would lift her from the +horrible place she lies, where briers run riot and cattle trample and +the unmerciful sun beats! Oh if only you'd lift her from it, and bring +her here! I believe it would take away some of the horror, the shame, +and the heartache. I believe I could go to sleep without hearing the +voice of her suffering, if I knew she was lying on this hill, under your +beautiful tree, close the dear mother you love. Oh Man, would you----?” + +The Harvester crushed the Girl in his arms and shuddering sobs shook his +big frame, and choked his voice. + +“Ruth, for God's sake, be quiet!” he cried. “Why I'd be glad to! I'll go +anywhere you tell me, and bring her, and she shall rest where the lake +murmurs, the trees shelter, the winds sing, and earth knows the sun only +in long rays of gold light.” + +She stared at him with strained face. + +“You----you wouldn't!” she breathed. + +“Ruth, child,” said the Harvester, “I tell you I'd be happy. Look at +my side of this! I'm in search of bands to bind you to me and to this +place. Could you tell me a stronger than to have the mother you idolized +lie here for her long sleep? Why Girl, you can't know the deep and +abiding joy it would give me to bring her. I'd feel I had you almost +secure. Where is she Ruth?” + +“In that old unkept cemetery south of Onabasha, where it costs no money +to lay away your loved ones.” + +“Close here! Why I'll go to-morrow! I supposed she was in the city.” + +She straightened and drew away from him. + +“How could I? I had nothing. I could not have paid even her fare and +brought her here in the cheapest box the decency of man would allow +him to make if her doctor had not given me the money I owe. Now do +you understand why I must earn and pay it myself? Save for him, it was +charity or her delicate body to horrors. Money never can repay him.” + +“Ruth, the day you came to Onabasha was she with you?” + +“In the express car,” said the Girl. + +“Where did you go when you left the train shed?” + +“Straight to the baggage room, where Uncle Henry was waiting. Men +brought and put her in his wagon, and he drove with me to the place and +other men lowered her, and that was all.” + +“You poor Girl!” cried the Harvester. “This time to-morrow night she +shall sleep in luxury under this oak, so help me God! Ruth, can you +spare me? May I go at once? I can't rest, myself.” + +“You will?” cried the Girl. “You will?” + +She was laughing in the moonlight. “Oh Man, I can't ever, ever tell +you!” + +“Don't try,” said the Harvester. “Call it settled. I will start early +in the morning. I know that little cemetery. The man whose land it is +on can point me the spot. She is probably the last one laid there. Come +now, Ruth. Go to the room I made for you, and sleep deeply and in peace. +Will you try to rest?” + +“Oh David!” she exulted. “Only think! Here where it's clean and cool; +beside the lake, where leaves fall gently and I can come and sit close +to her and bring flowers; and she never will be alone, for your dear +mother is here. Oh David!” + +“It is better. I can't thank you enough for thinking of it. Come now, +let me help you.” + +He half carried her down the hill. Then he made the cabin a glamour of +light by putting candles in the sticks he had carved and placing them +everywhere. + +“There is a lighting plant in the basement,” he said, “but I had not +expected to use it until winter, and I have no acetylene. Candles were +our grandmothers' lights and they are the best anyway. Go bathe your +face, Ruth, and wash away all trace of tears. Put on the pink powder, +and in a few weeks you will have colour to outdo the wildest rose. You +must be as gay as you can the remainder of this night.” + +“I will!” cried the Girl. “I will! Oh I didn't know a thing on earth +could make me happy! I didn't know I really could be glad. Oh if the ice +in my heart would melt, and the wall break down, and the girlhood I've +never known would come yet! Oh David, if it would!” + +“Before the Lord it shall!” vowed the Harvester. “It shall come with the +fulness of joy right here in Medicine Woods. Think it! Believe it! Keep +it before you! Work for it! Happiness is worth while! All of us have a +right to it! It shall be yours and soon.” + +“I will try! I will!” promised the Girl. “I'll go right now and I'll put +on the blessed pink powder so thickly you'll never know what is under +it, and soon it won't be needed at all.” + +She was laughing as she left the room. The Harvester restlessly walked +the floor a few minutes and then sat with a notebook and began entering +stems. + +When the Girl returned, he brought the pillow from her bed, folded the +coverlet, and she lay on them in the big swing. He covered her with the +white shawl, and while Singing Water sang its loudest, katydids exulted +over the delightful act of their ancestor, and a million gauze-winged +creatures of night hummed against the screen, in a voice soft and low he +told her in a steady stream, as he swayed her back and forth, what each +sound of the night was, and how and why it was made all the way from the +rumbling buzz of the June bug to the screech of the owl and the splash +of the bass in the lake. All of it, as it appealed to him, was the story +of steady evolution, the natural processes of reproduction, the joy of +life and its battles, and the conquest of the strong in nature. At his +hands every sound was stripped of terror. The leaping bass was exulting +in life, the screeching owl was telling its mate it had found a fat +mouse for the children, the nighthawk was courting, the big bull frogs +booming around the lake were serenading the moon. There was not a thing +to fear or a voice left with an unsympathetic note in it. She was half +asleep when at last he helped her to her room, set a pitcher of frosty, +clinking drink on her table, locked her door and window screens inside, +spread Belshazzar's blanket on her porch, and set his door wide open, +that he might hear if she called, and then said good night and went back +to his memorandum book. + +“No bad beginning,” he muttered softly, “no bad beginning, but I'd +almost give my right hand if she hadn't forgotten----” + +In her room the exhausted Girl slipped the pins from her hair and sank +on the low chair before the dressing-table. She picked up the shining, +silver backed brush and stared at the monogram, R. F. L, entwined on it. + +“My soul!” she exclaimed. “WAS HE SO SURE AS THAT? Was there ever any +other man like him?” + +She dropped the brush and with tired hands pushed back the heavy braids. +Then she arose and going to the chest of drawers began lifting lids to +find a night robe. As she searched the boxes she found every dainty, +pretty undergarment a girl ever used and at last the robes. She shook +out a long white one, slipped into it, and walked to the bed. That stood +as he had arranged it, white, clean, and dainty. + +“Everything for me!” she said softly. “Everything for me! Shall there be +nothing for him? Oh he makes it easy, easy!” + +She stepped to the closet, picked down a lavender silk kimona and +drawing it over her gown she gathered it around her and opening +the bathroom door, she stepped into a little hall leading to the +dining-room. As she entered the living-room the Harvester bent over his +book. Her step was very close when he heard it and turned his head. In +an instant she touched his shoulders. The Harvester dropped the pencil, +and palm downward laid his hands on the table, his promise strong in +his heart. The Girl slid a shaking palm under his chin, leaned his head +against her breast, and dropped a sweet, tear-wet face on his. With all +the strength of her frail arms she gripped him a second, and then gave +the kiss, into which she tried to put all she could find no words to +express. + + + +CHAPTER XIV. SNOWY WINGS + +The Harvester sat at the table in deep thoughts until the lights in the +Girl's room were darkened and everything was quiet. Then he locked +the screens inside and went into the night. The moon flooded all the +hillside, until coarse print could have been read with keen eyes in its +light. A restlessness, born of exultation he could not allay or control, +was on him. She had not forgotten! After this, the dream would be +effaced by reality. It was the beginning. He scarcely had dared hope for +so much. Surely it presaged the love with which she some day would +come to him and crown his life. He walked softly up and down the drive, +passing her windows, unable to think of sleep. Over and over he dwelt on +the incidents of the day, so inevitably he came to his promise. + +“Merciful Heaven!” he muttered. “How can such things happen? The poor, +overworked, tired, suffering girl. It will give her some comfort. She +will feel better. It has to be done. I believe I will do the worst part +of it while she sleeps.” + +He went to the cabin, crept very close to one of her windows and +listened intently. Surely no mortal awake could lie motionless so long. +She must be sleeping. He patted Belshazzar, whispered, “Watch, boy, +watch for your life!” and then crossed to the dry-house. Beside it he +found a big roll of coffee sacks that he used in collecting roots, and +going to the barn, he took a spade and mattock. Then he climbed the hill +to the oak; in the white moonlight laid off his measurements and began +work. His heart was very tender as he lifted the earth, and threw it +into the tops of the big bags he had propped open. + +“I'll line it with a couple of sheets and finish the edge with pond +lilies and ferns,” he planned, “and I'll drag this earth from sight, and +cover it with brush until I need it.” + +Sometimes he paused in his work to rest a few minutes and then he stood +and glanced around him. Several times he went down the hill and slipped +close to a window, but he could not hear a sound. When his work was +finished, he stood before the oak, scraping clinging earth from the +mattock with which he had cut roots he had been compelled to remove. +He was tired now and he thought he would go to his room and sleep until +daybreak. As he turned the implement he remembered how through it he +had found her, and now he was using it in her service. He smiled as he +worked, and half listened to the steady roll of sound encompassing him. +A cool breath swept from the lake and he wondered if it found her wet, +hot cheek. A wild duck in the rushes below gave an alarm signal, and +it ran in subdued voice, note by note, along the shore. The Harvester +gripped the mattock and stood motionless. Wild things had taught him so +many lessons he heeded their warnings instinctively. Perhaps it was a +mink or muskrat approaching the rushes. Listening intently, he heard a +stealthy step coming up the path behind him. + +The Harvester waited. He soundlessly moved around the trunk of the big +tree. An instant more the night prowler stopped squarely at the head of +the open grave, and jumped back with an oath. He stood tense a second, +then advanced, scratched a match and dropped it into the depths of the +opening. That instant the Harvester recognized Henry Jameson, and with +a spring landed between the man's shoulders and sent him, face down, +headlong into the grave. He snatched one of the sacks of earth, and +tipping it, gripped the bottom and emptied the contents on the head +and shoulders of the prostrate man. Then he dropped on him and feeling +across his back took an ugly, big revolver from a pocket. He swung to +the surface and waited until Henry Jameson crawled from under the weight +of earth and began to rise; then, at each attempt, he knocked him down. +At last he caught the exhausted man by the collar and dragged him to the +path, where he dropped him and stood gloating. + +“So!” he said; “It's you! Coming to execute your threat, are you? What's +the matter with my finishing you, loading your carcass with a few stones +into this sack, and dropping you in the deepest part of the lake.” + +There was no reply. + +“Ain't you a little hasty?” asked the Harvester. “Isn't it rather cold +blooded to come sneaking when you thought I'd be asleep? Don't you think +it would be low down to kill a man on his wedding day?” + +Henry Jameson arose cautiously and faced the Harvester. + +“Who have you killed?” he panted. + +“No one,” answered the Harvester. “This is for the victim of a member of +your family, but I never dreamed I'd have the joy of planting any of +you in it first, even temporarily. Did you rest well? What I should have +done was to fill in, tread down, and leave you at the bottom.” + +Jameson retreated a few steps. The Harvester laughed and advanced the +same distance. + +“Now then,” he said, “explain what you are doing on my premises, a few +hours after your threat, and armed with another revolver before I could +return the one I took from you this afternoon. You must grow them on +bushes at your place, they seem so numerous. Speak up! What are you +doing here?” + +There was no answer. + +“There are three things it might be,” mused the Harvester. “You might +think to harm me, but you're watched on that score and I don't believe +you'd enjoy the result sure to follow. You might contemplate trying to +steal Ruth's money again, but we'll pass that up. You might want to go +through my woods to inform yourself as to what I have of value there. +But, in all prob-ability, you are after me. Well, here I am. Go ahead! +Do what you came to!” + +The Harvester stepped toward the lake bank and Jameson, turning to watch +him, exposed a face ghastly through its grime. + +“Look here!” cried the Harvester, sickening. “We will end this right +now. I was rather busy this afternoon, but I wasn't too hurried to take +that little weapon of yours to the chief of police and tell him where +and how I got it and what occurred. He was to return it to you +to-morrow with his ultimatum. When I have added the history of to-night, +reinforced by another gun, he will understand your intentions and know +where you belong. You should be confined, but because your name is the +same as the Girl's, and there is of your blood in her veins, I'll give +you one more chance. I'll let you go this time, but I'll report you, and +deliver this implement to be added to your collection at headquarters. +And I tell you, and I'll tell them, that if ever I find you on my +premises again, I'll finish you on sight. Is that clear?” + +Jameson nodded. + +“What I should do is to plump you squarely into confinement, as I could +easily enough, but that's not my way. I am going to let you off, but you +go knowing the law. One thing more: Don't leave with any distorted ideas +in your head. I saw Ruth the day she stepped from the cars in Onabasha +and I loved her. I wanted to court and marry her, as any man would the +girl he loves, but you spoiled that with your woman killing brutality. +So I married her in Onabasha this afternoon. You can see the records at +the county clerk's office and interview the minister who performed the +ceremony, if you doubt me. Ruth is in her room, comfortable as I can +make her, asleep and unafraid, thank God! This grave is for her mother. +The Girl wants her lifted from the horrible place you put her, and laid +where it is sheltered and pleasant. Now, I'll see you off my land. Hurry +yourself!” + +With the Harvester following, Henry Jameson went back over the path he +had come, until he reached and mounted the horse he had ridden. As the +Harvester watched him, Jameson turned in the saddle and spoke for the +second time. + +“What will you give me in cold cash to tell you who she is, and where +her mother's people are?” + +The Harvester leaped for the bridle and missed. Jameson bent over +the horse and lashed it to a run. Half way to the oak the Harvester +remembered the revolver, but being unaccustomed to weapons, he had +forgotten it when he needed it most. He replaced the earth in the sack +and dragged it away, then plunged into the lake, and afterward went +to bed, where he slept soundly until dawn. First, he slipped into the +living-room and wrote a note to the Girl. Then he fed Belshazzar and ate +a hearty breakfast. He stationed the dog at her door, gave him the +note, and went to the oak. There he arranged everything neatly and as +he desired, and then hitching Betsy he quietly guided her down the drive +and over the road to Onabasha. He went to an undertaking establishment, +made all his arrangements, and then called up and talked with the +minister who had performed the marriage ceremony the previous day. + +The sun shining in her face awoke Ruth and she lay revelling in the +light. “Maybe it will colour me faster than the powder,” she thought. +“How peculiar for him to say what he did! I always thought men detested +it. But he is not like any one else.” She lay looking around the +beautiful room and wondering where the Harvester was. She could not hear +him. Then, slowly and painfully, she dragged her aching limbs from the +bed and went to the door. The dog was gone from the porch and she could +not see the man at the stable. She selected a frock and putting it on +opened the door. Belshazzar arose and offered this letter: + +DEAR RUTH: + +I have gone to keep my promise. You are locked in with Bel. Please obey +me and do not step outside the door until four o'clock. Then put on a +pretty white dress, and with the dog, come to the bridge to meet me. I +hope you will not suffer and fret. Put away your clothing, arrange the +rooms to keep busy, or better yet, lie in the swing and rest. There is +food in the ice chest, pantry, and cellar. Forgive me for leaving you +to-day, but I thought you would feel easier to have this over. I am so +glad to bring your mother here. I hope it will make you happy enough +to meet us with a smile. Do not forget the pink box until the reality +comes. + +With love, + +DAVID. + + +The Girl went to the kitchen and found food. She offered to share with +Belshazzar, but she could see from his indifference he was not hungry. +Then she returned to the room flooded with light, and filled with +treasures, and tried to decide how she would arrange her clothing. She +spent hours opening boxes and putting dainty, pretty garments in the +drawers, hanging the dresses, and placing the toilet articles. Often +she wearily dropped to the chairs and couches, or gazed from door and +windows at the pictures they framed. “I wonder why he doesn't want me to +go outside,” she thought. “I wouldn't be afraid in the least, with Bel. +I'd just love to go across to that wonderful little river of Singing +Water and sit in the shade; but I won't open the door until four +o'clock, just as he wrote.” + +When she thought of where he had gone, and why, the swift tears filled +her eyes, but she forced them back and resolutely went to investigate +the dining-room. Then for two hours she was a home builder, with a touch +of that homing instinct found in the heart of every good woman. First, +she looked where the Harvester had said the dishes were, and suddenly +sat on the floor exulting. There was a quantity of old chipped and +cracked white ware and some gorgeous baking powder prizes; but there +were also big blue, green, and pink bowls, several large lustre plates, +and a complete tea set without chip or blemish, two beautiful pitchers, +and a number of willow pieces. She set the green bowl on the dining +table, the blue on the living-room, and took the pink herself, while a +beautiful yellow one she placed in the dining-room window seat. + +“Oh, if I only dared fill them with those lovely flowers!” She stood in +the window and gazed longingly toward the lake. “I know what colour I'd +like to put in each of them,” she said, “but I promised not to touch +anything, and the ones I want most I never saw before, and I'm not to go +out anyway. I can't see the sense in that, when I'm not at all afraid, +but if he does this wonderful thing for me I must do what he asks. Oh +mother, mother! Are you really coming to this beautiful place and to +rest at last?” + +She sank to the window seat and lay trembling, but she bravely +restrained the tears. After a time she remembered the upstairs and went +to see the coverlets. She found a half dozen beautiful ones, and smiled +as she examined the stiffly conventionalized birds facing each other in +the border designs, and in one corner of each blanket she read, woven in +the cloth---- + + Peter and John + Hartman + Wooster + Ohio + 1837 + +She took a blue and a green one, several fine skins from the fur box the +Harvester had told her about, and went downstairs. It required all her +strength to push the heavy tables before the fireplaces. She spread +papers on them to stand on, and tacked a skin above each mantel. She set +all of the candlesticks, except those she wanted to use, in the lower +part of an empty bookcase. A pair of black walnut she placed on the +living-room mantel, together with a big blue plate, a yellow one, and an +old brass candlestick. She admired the effect very much. She spread the +blue coverlet on the couch, and arranged the blue bowl and some books on +the table. Here and there she hung a skin across a chair back, or +spread it in a wide window seat. Having exhausted all her resources, she +returned to the dining-room, spread a skin before the hearth and in each +window seat, set a pink and green lustre plate on the mantel, and a pair +of oak candlesticks, and arranged the lustre tea set on the side table. +The pink coverlet she took for herself, and after resting a time she was +surprised on going back to the rooms to see how homelike they appeared. + +At three o'clock she dressed and at almost four unlocked the screen, +called Belshazzar to her side, and slowly went down the drive to the +bridge. She had used the pink powder, put on a beautiful white dress, +carefully arranged her hair, and she wore the pearl ornament. Once her +fingers strayed to the pendant and she said softly, “I think both he and +mother would like me to wear it.” + +At the foot of the hill she stopped at a bench and sat in the shade +waiting. Belshazzar stretched beside her, and gazed at her with +questioning, friendly dog eyes. The Girl looked from Singing Water to +the lake, and up the hill to make sure it was real. She tried to quiet +her quivering muscles and nerves. He had asked her to meet him with a +smile. How could she? He could not have understood what it meant when +he made the request. There never would be any way to make him realize; +indeed, why should he? The smile must be ready. He had loved his mother +deeply, and yet he had said he did not grieve to lay her to rest. Earth +had not been kind. Then why should she sorrow for her mother? Again life +had been not only unkind, but bitterly cruel. + +Belshazzar arose and watched down the drive. The Girl looked also. +Through the gate and up the levee came a strange procession. First +walked the Harvester alone, with bared head, and he carried an arm load +of white lilies. A carriage containing a man and several women followed. +Then came a white hearse with snowy plumes, and behind that another +carriage filled with people, and Betsy followed drawing men in the +spring wagon. The Girl arose and as she stepped to the drive she swayed +uncertainly an instant. + +“Gracious Heaven!” she gasped. “He is bringing her in white, and with +flowers and song!” + +Then she lifted her head, and with a smile on her lips she went to meet +him. As she reached his side, he tenderly put an arm around her, and +came on steadily. + +“Courage Girl!” he whispered. “Be as brave as she was!” + +Around the driveway and up the hill he half carried her, to a seat he +had placed under the oak. Before her lay the white-lined grave, and the +Harvester arranged his lilies around it. The teams stopped at the barn +and men came up the hill bearing a white burden. Behind them followed +the minister who yesterday had performed their marriage ceremony, and +after him a choir of trained singers softly chanting: + + “Blessed are the dead who die in the Lord, + For they shall cease from their labours.” + + +“But David,” panted the Girl, “It was mean and poor. That is not she!” + +“Sush!” said the Harvester. “It is your mother. The location was high +and dry, and it has been only a short time. We wrapped her in white +silk, laid her on a soft cushion and pillow, and housed her securely. +She can sleep well now, Ruth. Listen!” + +Covered with white lilies, slowly the casket sank into earth. At its +head stood the minister and as it began to disappear, the white doves, +frightened by the strange conveyances at the stable, came circling +above. The minister looked up. He lifted a clear tenor, and softly and +purely he sang, while at a wave of his hand the choir joined him: + + “Oh, come angel band! Oh, come, and around me stand! + Oh, bear me away on your snowy wings to my immortal home!” + + +He uttered a low benediction, and singing, the people turned and went +downhill. The Harvester gathered the Girl in his arms and carried her to +the lake. He laid her in his boat and taking the oars sent it along the +bank in the shade, and through cool, green places. + +“Now cry all you choose!” he said. + +The overstrained Girl covered her face and sobbed wildly. After a time +he began to talk to her gently, and before she realized it, she was +listening. + +“Death has been kinder to her than life, Ruth,” he said. “She is lying +as you saw her last, I think. We lifted her very tenderly, wrapped +her carefully, and brought her gently as we could. Now they shall rest +together, those little mothers of ours, to whom men were not kind; and +in the long sleep we must forget, as they have forgotten, and forgive, +as no doubt they have forgiven. Don't you want to take some lilies to +them before we go to the cabin? Right there on your left are unusually +large ones.” + +The Girl sat up, dried her eyes and gathered the white flowers. When the +last vehicle crossed the bridge, the Harvester tied the boat and helped +her up the hill. The old oak stretched its wide arms above two little +mounds, both moss covered and scattered with flowers. The Girl added her +store and then went to the Harvester, and sank at his feet. + +“Ruth, you shall not!” cried the man. “I simply will not have that. Come +now, I will bring you back this evening.” + +He helped her to the veranda and laid her in the swing. He sat beside +her while she rested, and then they went into the cabin for supper. Soon +he had her telling what she had found, and he was making notes of what +was yet required to transform the cabin into a home. The Harvester left +it to her to decide whether he should roof the bridge the next day or +make a trip for furnishings. She said he had better buy what they +needed and then she could make the cabin homelike while he worked on the +bridge. + + + +CHAPTER XV. THE HARVESTER INTERPRETS LIFE + +They went through the rooms together, and the Girl suggested the +furnishings she thought necessary, while the Harvester wrote the list. +The following morning he was eager to have her company, but she was very +tired and begged to be allowed to wait in the swing, so again he drove +away and left her with Belshazzar on guard. When he had gone, she went +through the cabin arranging the furniture the best she could, then +dressed and went to the swinging couch. It was so wide and heavy a light +wind rocked it gently, and from it she faced the fern and lily carpeted +hillside, the majesty of big trees of a thousand years, and heard the +music of Singing Water as it sparkled diamond-like where the sun rays +struck its flow. Across the drive and down the valley to the brilliant +bit of marsh it hurried on its way to Loon Lake. + +There were squirrels barking and racing in the big trees and over the +ground. They crossed the sodded space of lawn and came to the top step +for nuts, eating them from cunning paws. They were living life according +to the laws of their nature. She knew that their sharp, startling bark +was not to frighten her, but to warn straying intruders of other species +of their kindred from a nest, because the Harvester had told her so. He +had said their racing here and there in wild scramble was a game of tag +and she found it most interesting to observe. + +Birds of brilliant colour flashed everywhere, singing in wild joy, and +tilted on the rising hedge before her, hunting berries and seeds. Their +bubbling, spontaneous song was an instinctive outpouring of their joy +over mating time, nests, young, much food, and running water. Their +social, inquiring, short cry was to locate a mate, and call her to good +feeding. The sharp wild scream of a note was when a hawk passed over, a +weasel lurked in the thicket, or a black snake sunned on the bushes. She +remembered these things, and lay listening intently, trying to interpret +every sound as the Harvester did. + +Birds of wide wing hung as if nailed to the sky, or wheeled and sailed +in grandeur. They were searching the landscape below to locate a hare +or snake in the waving grass or carrion in the fields. The wonderful +exhibitions of wing power were their expression of exultation in life, +just as the song sparrow threatened to rupture his throat as he swung +on the hedge, and the red bird somewhere in the thicket whistled so +forcefully it sounded as if the notes might hurt him. + +On the lake bass splashed in a game with each other. Grebes chattered, +because they were very social. Ducks dived and gobbled for roots and +worms of the lake shore, and congratulated each other when they were +lucky. + +Killdeer cried for slaughter, in plaintive tones, as their white breasts +gleamed silver-like across the sky. They insisted on the death of their +ancient enemies, because the deer had trampled nests around the +shore, roiled the water, spoiled the food hunting, and had been wholly +unmindful of the laws of feathered folk from the beginning. + +Behind the barn imperial cocks crowed challenges of defiance to each +other and all the world, because they once had worn royal turbans on +their heads, and ruled the forests, even the elephants and lions. Happy +hens cackled when they deposited an egg, and wandered through their park +singing the spring egg song unceasingly. + +Upon the barn Ajax spread and exulted in glittering plumage, and +screamed viciously. He was sending a wireless plea to the forests of +Ceylon for a gray mate to come and share the ridge pole with him, and +help him wage red war on the sickening love making of the white doves he +hated. + +Everything was beautiful, some of it was amusing, all instructive, and +intensely interesting. The Girl wanted to know about the brown, yellow, +and black butterflies sailing from flower to flower. She watched big +black and gold bees come from the forest for pollen and listened to +their monotonous bumbling. Her first humming bird poised in air, and +sipped nectar before her astonished eyes. It was marvellous, but more +wonderful to the Girl than anything she saw or heard was the fact that +because of the Harvester's teachings she now could trace through all of +it the ordained processes of the evolution of life. Everything was right +in its way, all necessary to human welfare, and so there was nothing to +fear, but marvels to learn and pictures to appreciate. She would have +taken Belshazzar and gone out, but the Harvester had exacted a promise +that she would not. The fact was, he could see that she was coming +gradually to a sane and natural view of life and living things, and he +did not want some sound or creature to frighten her, and spoil what he +had accomplished. So she swayed in the swing and watched, and tried to +interpret sights and sounds as he did. + +Before an hour she realized that she was coming speedily into sympathy +with the wild life around her; for, instead of shivering and shrinking +at unaccustomed sounds, she was listening especially for them, and +trying to arrive at a sane version. Instead of the senseless roar +of commerce, manufacture, and life of a city, she was beginning to +appreciate sounds that varied and carried the Song of Life in unceasing +measure and absorbing meaning, while she was more than thankful for the +fresh, pure air, and the blessed, God-given light. It seemed to the Girl +that there was enough sunshine at Medicine Woods to furnish rays of gold +for the whole world. + +“Bel,” she said to the dog standing beside her, “it's a shame to +separate you from the Medicine Man and pen you here with me. It's a +wonder you don't bite off my head and run away to find him. He's gone to +bring more things to make life beautiful. I wanted to go with him, but +oh Bel, there's something dreadfully wrong with me. I was afraid I'd +fall on the streets and frighten and shame him. I'm so weak, I scarcely +can walk straight across one of these big, cool rooms that he has built +for me. He can make everything beautiful, Bel, a home, rooms, clothing, +grounds, and life----above everything else he can make life beautiful. +He's so splendid and wonderful, with his wide understanding and sane +interpretation and God-like sympathy and patience. Why Belshazzar, he +can do the greatest thing in all the world! He can make you forget that +the grave annihilates your dear ones by hideous processes, and set you +to thinking instead that they come back to you in whispering leaves and +flower perfumes. If I didn't owe him so much that I ought to pay, if +this wasn't so alluringly beautiful, I'd like to go to the oak and lie +beside those dear women resting there, and give my tired body to +furnish sap for strength and leaves for music. He can take its bitterest +sting----from death, Bel----and that's the most wonderful thing----in +life, Bel----” + +Her voice became silent, her eyes closed; the dog stretched himself +beside her on guard, and it was so the Harvester found them when he +drove home from the city. He heaped his load in the dining-room, stabled +Betsy, carried the things he had brought where he thought they belonged, +and prepared food. When she awakened she came to him. + +“How is it going, Girl?” asked the Harvester. + +“I can't tell you how lovely it has been!” + +“Do you really mean that your heart is warming a little to things here?” + +“Indeed I do! I can't tell you what a morning I've had. There have been +such myriad things to see and hear. Oh, Harvester, can you ever teach me +what all of it means?” + +“I can right now,” said the Harvester promptly. “It means two things, +so simple any little child can understand----the love of God and the +evolution of life. I am not precisely clear as to what I mean when I say +God. I don't know whether it is spirit, matter, or force; it is that big +thing that brings forth worlds, establishes their orbits, and gives us +heat, light, food, and water. To me, that is God and His love. Just that +we are given birth, sheltered, provisioned, and endowed for our work. +Evolution is the natural consequence of this. It is the plan steadily +unfolding. If I were you, I wouldn't bother my head over these +questions, they never have been scientifically explained to the +beginning; I doubt if they ever will be, because they start with the +origin of matter and that is too far beyond man for him to penetrate. +Just enjoy to the depths of your soul----that's worship. Be thankful for +everything----that's praising God as the birds praise him. And 'do unto +others' that's all there is of love and religion combined in one fell +swoop.” + +“You should go before the world and tell every one that!” + +“No! It isn't my vocation,” said the Harvester. “My work is to provide +pain-killer. I don't believe, Ruth, that there is any one on the +footstool who is doing a better job along that line. I am boastfully +proud of it----just of sending in the packages that kill fever, refresh +poor blood, and strengthen weak hearts; unadulterated, honest weight, +fresh, and scrupulously clean. My neighbours have a different name for +it; I call it a man's work.” + +“Every one who understands must,” said the Girl. “I wish I could help at +that. I feel as if it would do more to wipe out the pain I've suffered +and seen her endure than anything else. Man, when I grow strong enough I +want to help you. I believe that I am going to love it here.” + +“Don't ever suppress your feelings, Ruth!” hastily cried the Harvester. +“It will be very bad for you. You will become wrought up, and 'het up,' +as Granny Moreland says, and it will make you very ill. When we drive +the fever from your blood, the ache from your bones, the poison of +wrong conditions from your soul, and good, healthy, red corpuscles begin +pumping through your little heart like a windmill, you can stake your +life you're going to love it here. And the location and work are not +all you're going to care for either, honey. Now just wait! That was not +'nominated in the bond.' I'm allowed to talk. I never agreed not to SAY +things. What I promised was not to DO them. So as I said, honey, sit at +this table, and eat the food I've cooked; and by that time the furniture +van will be here, and the men will unload, and you shall reign on a +throne and tell me where and how.” + +“Oh if I were only stronger, David!” + +“You are!” said the Harvester. “You are much better than you were +yesterday. You can talk, and that's all that's necessary. The rooms +are ready for furniture. The men will carry it where you want it. A +decorator is coming to hang the curtains. By night we will be settled; +you can lie in the swing while I read to you a story so wonderful that +the wildest fairy tale you ever heard never touched it.” + +“What will it be, David?” + +“Eat all the red raspberries and cream, bread and butter, and drink all +the milk you can. There's blood, beefsteak, and bones in it. As I was +saying, you have come here a stranger to a strange land. The first thing +is for you to understand and love the woods. Before you can do that you +should master the history of one tree; just the same as you must learn +to know and love me before your childlike trust in all mankind returns +again. Understand? Well, the fates knew you were on the way, coming +trembling down the brink, Ruth, so they put it into the heart of a great +man to write largely of a wonderful tree, especially for your benefit. +After it had fallen he took it apart, split it in sections, and year +by year spread out history for all the world to read. It made a classic +story filled with unsurpassed wonders. It was a pine of a thousand +years, close the age of our mother tree, Ruth, and when we have learned +from Enos Mills how to wrest secrets from the hearts of centuries, we +will climb the hill and measure our oak, and then I will estimate, and +you will write, and we will make a record for our tree.” + +“Oh, I'd like that!” + +“So would I,” said the Harvester. “And a million other things I can +think of that we can learn together. It won't require long for me to +teach you all I know, and by that time your hand will be clasped in +mine, and our 'hearts will beat as one,' and you will give me a kiss +every night and morning, and a few during the day for interest, and we +will go on in life together and learn songs, miracles, and wonders until +the old oak calls us. Then we will ascend the hill gladly and lie down +and offer up our bodies, and our children will lay flowers over our +hearts, and gather the herbs and paint the pictures? Amen. I hear a van +on the bridge. Just you go to your room and lie down until I get things +unloaded and where they belong. Then you and the decorator can make us +home-like, and to-morrow we will begin to live. Won't that be great, +Ruth?” + +“With you, yes, I think it will.” + +“That will do for this time,” said the Harvester, as he opened the door +to her room. “Lie and rest until I say ready.” + +As he went to meet the men, she could hear him singing lustily, “Praise +God from whom all blessings flow.” + +“What a child he is!” she said. “And what a man!” + +For an hour heavy feet sounded through the cabin carrying furniture to +different rooms. Then with a floor brush in one hand, and a polishing +cloth in the other, the Harvester tapped at her door and helped the Girl +upstairs. He had divided the space into three large, square sleeping +chambers. In each he had set up a white iron bed, a dressing table, and +wash stand, and placed two straight-backed and one rocking chair, all +white. The walls were tinted lightly with green added to the plaster. +There was a mattress and a stack of bedding on each bed, and a large rug +and several small ones on the floors. He led her to the rocking chair in +the middle room, where she could see through the open doors of the other +two. + +“Now,” said the Harvester, “I didn't know whether the room with two +windows toward the lake and one on the marsh, or two facing the woods +and one front, was the guest chamber. It seemed about an even throw +whether a visitor would prefer woods or water, so I made them both guest +chambers, and got things alike for them. Now if we are entertaining two, +one can't feel more highly honoured than the other. Was that a scheme?” + +“Fine!” said the Girl. “I don't see how it could be surpassed.” + +“'Be sure you are right, then go ahead,'” quoted the Harvester. “Now +I'll make the beds and Mr. Rogers can hang the curtains. Is white +correct for sleeping rooms? Won't that wash best and always be fresh?” + +“It will,” said the Girl. “White wash curtains are much the nicest.” + +“Make them short Mr. Rogers; keep them off the floor,” advised the +Harvester. “And simple----don't arrange any thing elaborate that will +tire a woman to keep in order. Whack them off the right length and pin +them to the poles.” + +“How about that, Mrs. Langston?” asked the decorator. + +“I am quite sure that is the very best thing to do,” said the Girl; and +the curtains were hung while the mattress was placed. + +“Now about this?” inquired the Harvester. “Do I put on sheets and fix +these beds ready to use?” + +“I would not,” said the Girl. “I would spread the pad and the +counterpane and lay the sheets and pillows in the closet until they are +wanted. They can be sunned and the bed made delightfully fresh.” + +“Of course,” said the Harvester. + +When he had finished, he spread a cover on the dressing table and +laid out white toilet articles and grouped a white wash set with green +decorations on the stand. Then he brushed the floor, spread a big green +rug in the middle and small ones before the bed, stand, and table, and +coming out closed the door. + +“Guest chamber with lake view is now ready for company,” announced the +Harvester. “Repeat the operation on the woods room, finished also. Why +do some people make work of things and string them out eternally and +fuss so much? Isn't this simple and easy, Ruth?” + +“Yes, if you can afford it,” said the Girl. + +“Forbear!” cried the Harvester. “We have the goods, the dealer has my +check. Excuse me ten minutes, until I furnish another room.” + +The laughing Girl could catch glimpses of him busy over beds and +dresser, floor and rugs; then he came where she sat. + +“Woods guest chamber ready,” he said. “Now we come to the interior +apartment, that from its view might be called the marsh room. Aside +from being two windows short, it is exactly similar to the others. It +occurred to me that, in order to make up for the loss of those windows, +and also because I may be compelled to ask some obliging woman to occupy +it in case your health is precarious at any time, and in view of the +further fact that if any such woman could be found, and would kindly and +willingly care for us, my gratitude would be inexpressible; on account +of all these things, I got a shade the BEST furnishings for this room.” + +The Girl stared at him with blank face. + +“You see,” said the Harvester, “this is a question of ethics. Now what +is a guest? A thing of a day! A person who disturbs your routine and +interferes with important concerns. Why should any one be grateful for +company? Why should time and money be lavished on visitors? They come. +You overwork yourself. They go. You are glad of it. You return the +visit, because it's the only way to have back at them; but why pamper +them unnecessarily? Now a good housekeeper, that means more than words +can express. Comfort, kindness, sanitary living, care in illness! Here's +to the prospective housekeeper of Medicine Woods! Rogers, hang those +ruffled embroidered curtains. Observe that whereas mere guest beds +are plain white, this has a touch of brass. Where guest rugs are floor +coverings, this is a work of art. Where guest brushes are celluloid, +these are enamelled, and the dresser cover is hand embroidered. Let me +also call your attention to the chairs touched with gold, cushioned +for ease, and a decorated pitcher and bowl. Watch the bounce of these +springs and the thickness of this mattress and pad, and notice that +where guests, however welcome, get a down cover of sateen, the lady of +the house has silkaline. Won't she prepare us a breakfast after a night +in this room?” + +“David, are you in earnest?” gasped the Girl. + +“Don't these things prove it?” asked the Harvester. “No woman can enter +my home, when my necessities are so great I have to hire her to come, +and take the WORST in the house. After my wife, she gets the best, every +time. Whenever I need help, the woman who will come and serve me is what +I'd call the real guest of the house. Friend? Where are your friends +when trouble comes? It always brings a crowd on account of the +excitement, and there is noise and racing; but if your soul is saved +alive, it is by a steady, trained hand you pay to help you. Friends +come and go, but a good housekeeper remains and is a business +proposition--one that if conducted rightly for both parties and on a +strictly common-sense basis, gives you living comfort. Now that we have +disposed of the guests that go and the one that remains, we will proceed +downward and arrange for ourselves.” + +“David, did you ever know any one who treated a housekeeper as you say +you would?” + +“No. And I never knew any one who raised medicinal stuff for a living, +but I'm making a gilt-edged success of it, and I would of a housekeeper, +too.” + +“It doesn't seem----” + +“That's the bedrock of all the trouble on the earth,” interrupted the +Harvester. “We are a nation and a part of a world that spends our time +on 'seeming.' Our whole outer crust is 'seeming.' When we get beneath +the surface and strike the BEING, then we live as we are privileged by +the Almighty. I don't think I give a tinker how anything SEEMS. What +concerns me is how it IS. It doesn't 'seem' possible to you to hire a +woman to come into your home and take charge of its cleanliness and the +food you eat--the very foundation of life--and treat her as an honoured +guest, and give her the best comfort you have to offer. The cold room, +the old covers, the bare floor, and the cast off furniture are for her. +No wonder, as a rule, she gives what she gets. She dignifies her labour +in the same ratio that you do. Wait until we need a housekeeper, and +then gaze with awe on the one I will raise to your hand.” + +“I wonder----” + +“Don't! It's wearing! Come tell me how to make our living-room less bare +than it appears at present.” + +They went downstairs together, followed by the decorator, and began work +on the room. The Girl was placed on a couch and made comfortable and +then the Harvester looked around. + +“That bundle there, Rogers, is the curtains we bought for this room. If +you and my wife think they are not right, we will not hang them.” + +The decorator opened the package and took out curtains of tan-coloured +goods with a border of blue and brown. + +“Those are not expensive,” said the Harvester, “but to me a window +appears bare with only a shade, so I thought we'd try these, and when +they become soiled we'll burn them and buy some fresh ones.” + +“Good idea!” laughed the Girl. “As a house decorator you surpass +yourself as a Medicine Man.” + +“Fix these as you did those upstairs,” ordered the Harvester. “We don't +want any fol-de-rols. Put the bottom even with the sill and shear them +off at the top.” + +“No, I am going to arrange these,” said the decorator, “you go on with +your part.” + +“All right!” agreed the Harvester. “First, I'll lay the big rug.” + +He cleared the floor, spread a large rug with a rich brown centre and a +wide blue border. Smaller ones of similar design and colour were placed +before each of the doors leading from the room. + +“Now for the hearth,” said the Harvester, “I got this tan goat skin. +Doesn't that look fairly well?” + +It certainly did; and the Girl and the decorator hastened to say so. The +Harvester replaced the table and chairs, and then sat on the couch at +the Girl's feet. + +“I call this almost finished,” he remarked. “All we need now is a +bouquet and something on the walls, and that is serious business. +What goes on them usually remains for a long time, and so it should be +selected with care. Ruth, have you a picture of your mother?” + +“None since she was my mother. I have some lovely girl photographs.” + +“Good!” cried the Harvester. “Exactly the thing! I have a picture of my +mother when she was a pretty girl. We will select the best of yours and +have them enlarged in those beautiful brown prints they make in these +days, and we'll frame one for each side of the mantel. After that you +can decorate the other walls as you see things you want. Fifteen minutes +gone; we are ready to take up the line of march to the dining-room. Oh +I forgot my pillows! Here are a half dozen tan, brown, and blue for this +room. Ruth, you arrange them.” + +The Girl heaped four on the couch, stood one beside the hearth, and laid +another in a big chair. + +“Now I don't know what you will think of this,” said the Harvester. “I +found it in a magazine at the library. I copied this whole room. The +plan was to have the floor, furniture, and casings of golden oak and the +walls pale green. Then it said get yellow curtains bordered with green +and a green rug with yellow figures, so I got them. I had green leather +cushions made for the window seats, and these pillows go on them. Hang +the saffron curtains, Rogers, and we will finish in good shape for +dinner by six. By the way, Ruth, when will you select your dishes? It +will take a big set to fill all these shelves and you shall have exactly +what you want.” + +“I can use those you have very well.” + +“Oh no you can't!” cried the Harvester. “I may live and work in the +woods, but I am not so benighted that I don't own and read the best +books and magazines, and subscribe for a few papers. I patronize the +library and see what is in the stores. My money will buy just as much as +any man's, if I do wear khaki trousers. Kindly notice the word. Save in +deference to your ladyship I probably would have said pants. You see how +ELITE I can be if I try. And it not only extends to my wardrobe, to a +'yaller' and green dining-room, but it takes in the 'chany' as well. I +have looked up that, too. You want china, cut glass, silver cutlery, and +linen. Ye! Ye! You needn't think I don't know anything but how to dig in +the dirt. I have been studying this especially, and I know exactly what +to get.” + +“Come here,” said the Girl, making a place for him beside her. “Now let +me tell you what I think. We are going to live in the woods, and our +home is a log cabin----” + +“With acetylene lights, a furnace, baths, and hot and cold water----” + interpolated the Harvester. + +The Girl and the decorator laughed. + +“Anyway,” said she, “if you are going to let me have what I would like, +I'd prefer a set of tulip yellow dishes with the Dutch little figures +on them. I don't know what they cost, but certainly they are not so +expensive as cut glass and china.” + +“Is that earnest or is it because you think I am spending too much +money?” + +“It is what I want. Everything else is different; why should we have +dishes like city folk? I'd dearly love to have the Dutch ones, and +a white cloth with a yellow border, glass where it is necessary, and +silver knives, forks, and spoons.” + +“That would be great, all right!” endorsed the decorator. “And you have +got a priceless old lustre tea set there, and your willow ware is as +fine as I ever saw. If I were you, I wouldn't buy a dish with what you +have, except the yellow set.” + +“Great day!” ejaculated the Harvester. “Will you tell me why my great +grandmother's old pink and green teapot is priceless?” + +The Girl explained pink lustre. “That set in the shop I knew in Chicago +would sell for from three to five hundred dollars. Truly it would! I've +seen one little pink and green pitcher like yours bring nine dollars +there. And you've not only got the full tea set, but water and dip +pitchers, two bowls, and two bread plates. They are priceless, because +the secret of making them is lost; they take on beauty with age, and +they were your great-grandmother's.” + +The Harvester reached over and energetically shook hands. + +“Ruth, I'm so glad you've got them!” he bubbled. “Now elucidate on my +willow ware. What is it? Where is it? Why have I willow ware and am not +informed. Who is responsible for this? Did my ancestors buy better than +they knew, or worse? Is willow ware a crime for which I must hide +my head, or is it further riches thrust upon me? I thought I had +investigated the subject of proper dishes quite thoroughly; but I am +very certain I saw no mention of lustre or willow. I thought, in my +ignorance, that lustre was a dress, and willow a tree. Have I been +deceived? Why is a blue plate or pitcher willow ware?” + +“Bring that platter from the mantel,” ordered the Girl, “and I will show +you.” + +The Harvester obeyed and followed the finger that traced the design. + +“That's a healthy willow tree!” he commented. “If Loon Lake couldn't go +ahead of that it should be drained. And will you please tell me why this +precious platter from which I have eaten much stewed chicken, fried ham, +and in youthful days sopped the gravy----will you tell me why this relic +of my ancestors is called a willow plate, when there are a majority of +orange trees so extremely fruitful they have neglected to grow a leaf? +Why is it not an orange plate? Look at that boat! And in plain sight of +it, two pagodas, a summer house, a water-sweep, and a pair of corpulent +swallows; you would have me believe that a couple are eloping in broad +daylight.” + +“Perhaps it's night! And those birds are doves.” + +“Never!” cried the Harvester. “There is a total absence of shadows. +There is no moon. Each orange tree is conveniently split in halves, so +you can see to count the fruit accurately; the birds are in flight. Only +a swallow or a stork can fly in decorations, either by day or by night. +And for any sake look at that elopement! He goes ahead carrying a cane, +she comes behind lugging the baggage, another man with a cane brings up +the rear. They are not running away. They have been married ten years +at least. In a proper elopement, they forget there are such things +as jewels and they always carry each other. I've often looked up the +statistics and it's the only authorized version. As I regard this +treasure, I grow faint when I remember with what unnecessary force my +father bore down when he carved the ham. I'll bet a cooky he split those +orange trees. Now me----I'll never dare touch knife to it again. I'll +always carve the meat on the broiler, and gently lift it to this +platter with a fork. Or am I not to be allowed to dine from my ancestral +treasure again?” + +“Not in a green and yellow room,” laughed the Girl. “I'll tell you what +I think. If I had a tea table to match the living-room furniture, and +it sat beside the hearth, and on it a chafing dish to cook in, and the +willow ware to eat from, we could have little tea parties in there, when +we aren't very hungry or to treat a visitor. It would help make that +room 'homey,' and it's wonderful how they harmonize with the other +things.” + +“How much willow ware have I got to 'bestow' on you?” inquired the +Harvester. “Suppose you show me all of it. A guilty feeling arises in my +breast, and I fear me I have committed high crimes!” + +“Oh Man! You didn't break or lose any of those dishes, did you?” + +“Show me!” insisted the Harvester. + +The Girl arose and going to the cupboard he had designed for her china +she opened it, and set before him a teapot, cream pitcher, two plates, a +bowl, a pitcher, the meat platter, and a sugar bowl. “If there were all +of the cups, saucers, and plates, I know where they would bring five +hundred dollars,” she said. + +“Ruth, are you getting even with me for poking fun at them, or are you +in earnest?” asked the Harvester. + +“I mean every word of it.” + +“You really want a small, black walnut table made especially for those +old dishes?” + +“Not if you are too busy. I could use it with beautiful effect and much +pleasure, and I can't tell you how proud I'd be of them.” + +The Harvester's face flushed. “Excuse me,” he said rising. “I have now +finished furnishing a house; I will go and take a peep at the engine.” + He went into the kitchen and hearing the rattle of dishes the Girl +followed. She stepped in just in time to see him hastily slide something +into his pocket. He picked up a half dozen old white plates and saucers +and several cups and started toward the evaporator. He heard her coming. + +“Look here, honey,” he said turning, “you don't want to see the +dry-house just now. I have terrific heat to do some rapid work. I won't +be gone but a few minutes. You better boss the decorator. + +“I'm afraid that wasn't very diplomatic,” he muttered. “It savoured a +little of being sent back. But if what she says is right, and she +should know if they handle such stuff at that art store, she will feel +considerably better not to see this.” + +He set his load at the door, drew an old blue saucer from his pocket and +made a careful examination. He pulled some leaves from a bush and pushed +a greasy cloth out of the saucer, wiped it the best he could, and held +it to light. + +“That is a crime!” he commented. “Saucer from your maternal ancestors' +tea set used for a grease dish. I am afraid I'd better sink it in the +lake. She'd feel worse to see it than never to know. Wish I could clean +off the grease! I could do better if it was hot. I can set it on the +engine.” + +The Harvester placed the saucer on the engine, entered the dry-house, +and closed the door. In the stifling air he began pouring seed from +beautiful, big willow plates to the old white ones. + +“About the time I have ruined you,” he said to a white plate, “some one +will pop up and discover that the art of making you is lost and you are +priceless, and I'll have been guilty of another blunder. Now there are +the dishes mother got with baking powder. She thought they were grand. +I know plenty well she prized them more than these blue ones or she +wouldn't have saved them and used these for every day. There they set, +all so carefully taken care of, and the Girl doesn't even look at them. +Thank Heaven, there are the four remaining plates all right, anyway! Now +I've got seed in some of the saucers; one is there; where on earth is +the last one? And where, oh unkind fates! are the cups?” + +He found more saucers and set them with the plates. As he passed the +engine he noticed the saucer on it was bubbling grease, literally +exuding it from the particles of clay. + +“Hooray!” cried the Harvester. He took it up, but it was so hot he +dropped it. With a deft sweep he caught it in air, and shoved it on +a tray. Then he danced and blew on his burned hand. Snatching out his +handkerchief he rubbed off all the grease, and imagined the saucer was +brighter. + +“If 'a little is good, more is better,'” quoted the Harvester. + +Wadding the handkerchief he returned the saucer to the engine. Then he +slipped out, dripping perspiration, glanced toward the cabin, and ran +into the work room. The first object he saw was a willow cup half full +of red paint, stuck and dried as if to remain forever. He took his knife +and tried to whittle it off, but noticing that he was scratching the cup +he filled it with turpentine, set it under a work bench, turned a tin +pan over it, and covered it with shavings. A few steps farther brought +one in sight, filled with carpet tacks. He searched everywhere, but +could find no more, so he went to the laboratory. Beside his wash bowl +at the door stood the last willow saucer. He had used it for years as a +soap dish. He scraped the contents on the bench and filled the dish with +water. Four cups held medicinal seeds and were in good condition. He +lacked one, although he could not remember of ever having broken it. +Gathering his collection, he returned to the dry-house to see how the +saucer was coming on. Again it was bubbling, and he polished off the +grease and set back the dish. It certainly was growing better. He +carried his treasures into the work room, and went to the barn to +feed. As he was leaving the stable he uttered a joyous exclamation +and snatched from a window sill a willow cup, gummed and smeared with +harness oil. + +“The full set, by hokey!” marvelled the Harvester. “Say, Betsy, the only +name for this is luck! Now if I only can clean them, I'll be ready to +make her tea table, whatever that is. My I hope she will stay away until +I get these in better shape!” + +He filled the last cup with turpentine, set it with the other under the +work bench, stacked the remaining pieces, polished the saucer he was +baking, and went to bring a dish pan and towel. He drew some water from +the pipes of the evaporator, put in the soap, and carried it to the work +room. There he carefully washed and wiped all the pieces, save two cups +and one saucer. He did not know how long it would require to bake the +grease from that, but he was sure it was improving. He thought he could +clean the paint cup, but he imagined the harness oil one would require +baking also. + +As he stood busily working over the dishes, with light step the Girl +came to the door. She took one long look and understood. She turned +and swiftly went back to the cabin, but her shoulders were shaking. +Presently the Harvester came in and explained that after finishing in +the dry-house he had gone to do the feeding. Then he suggested that +before it grew dark they should go through the rooms and see how they +appeared, and gather the flowers the Girl wanted. So together they +decided everything was clean, comfortable, and harmonized. + +Then they went to the hillside sloping to the lake. For the dining-room, +the Girl wanted yellow water lilies, so the Harvester brought his old +boat and gathered enough to fill the green bowl. For the living-room, +she used wild ragged robins in the blue bowl, and on one end of the +mantel set a pitcher of saffron and on the other arrowhead lilies. For +her room, she selected big, blushy mallows that grew all along Singing +Water and around the lake. + +“Isn't that slightly peculiar?” questioned the Harvester. + +“Take a peep,” said the Girl, opening her door. + +She had spread the pink coverlet on her couch, and when she set the big +pink bowl filled with mallows on the table the effect was exquisite. + +“I think perhaps that's a little Frenchy,” she said, “and you may have +to be educated to it; but salmon pink and buttercup yellow are colours I +love in combination.” + +She closed the door and went to find something to eat, and then to +the swing, where she liked to rest, look, and listen. The Harvester +suggested reading to her, but she shook her head. + +“Wait until winter,” she said, “when the days are longer and cold, and +the snow buries everything, and then read. Now tell me about my hedge +and the things you have planted in it.” + +The Harvester went out and collected a bunch of twigs. He handed her a +big, evenly proportioned leaf of ovate shape, and explained: “This is +burning bush, so called because it has pink berries that hang from long, +graceful stems all winter, and when fully open they expose a flame-red +seed pod. It was for this colour on gray and white days that I planted +it. In the woods I grow it in thickets. The root bark brings twenty +cents a pound, at the very least. It is good fever medicine.” + +“Is it poison?” + +“No. I didn't set anything acutely poisonous in your hedge. I wanted it +to be a mass of bloom you were free to cut for the cabin all spring, an +attraction to birds in summer, and bright with colour in winter. To draw +the feathered tribe, I planted alder, wild cherry, and grape-vines. +This is cherry. The bark is almost as beautiful as birch. I raise it +for tonics and the birds love the cherries. This fern-like leaf is from +mountain ash, and when it attains a few years' growth it will flame with +colour all winter in big clusters of scarlet berries. That I grow in +the woods is a picture in snow time, and the bark is one of my standard +articles.” + +The Girl raised on her elbow and looked at the hedge. + +“I see it,” she said. “The berries are green now. I suppose they change +colour as they ripen.” + +“Yes,” said the Harvester. “And you must not confuse them with sumac. +The leaves are somewhat similar, but the heads differ in colour and +shape. The sumac and buckeye you must not touch, until we learn what +they will do to you. To some they are slightly poisonous, to others not. +I couldn't help putting in a few buckeyes on account of the big buds +in early spring. You will like the colour if you are fond of pink and +yellow in combination, and the red-brown nuts in grayish-yellow, prickly +hulls, and the leaf clusters are beautiful, but you must use care. I put +in witch hazel for variety, and I like its appearance; it's mighty +good medicine, too; so is spice brush, and it has leaves that colour +brightly, and red berries. These selections were all made for a purpose. +Now here is wafer ash; it is for music as well as medicine. I have +invoked all good fairies to come and dwell in this hedge, and so I had +to provide an orchestra for their dances. This tree grows a hundred tiny +castanets in a bunch, and when they ripen and become dry the wind shakes +fine music from them. Yes, they are medicine; that is, the bark of +the roots is. Almost without exception everything here has medicinal +properties. The tulip poplar will bear you the loveliest flowers of all, +and its root bark, taken in winter, makes a good fever remedy.” + +“How would it do to eat some of the leaves and see if they wouldn't take +the feverishness from me?” + +“It wouldn't do at all,” said the Harvester. “We are well enough fixed +to allow Doc to come now, and he is the one to allay the fever.” + +“Oh no!” she cried. “No! I don't want to see a doctor. I will be all +right very soon. You said I was better.” + +“You are,” said the Harvester. “Much better! We will have you strong and +well soon. You should have come in time for a dose of sassafras. Your +hedge is filled with that, because of its peculiar leaves and odour. I +put in dogwood for the white display around the little green bloom, +lots of alder for bloom and berries, haws for blossoms and fruit for the +squirrels, wild crab apples for the exquisite bloom and perfume, button +bush for the buttons, a few pokeberry plants for the colour, and I tried +some mallows, but I doubt if it's wet enough for them. I set pecks of +vine roots, that are coming nicely, and ferns along the front edge. Give +it two years and that hedge will make a picture that will do your eyes +good.” + +“Can you think of anything at all you forgot?” + +“Yes indeed!” said the Harvester. “The woods are full of trees I have +not used; some because I overlooked them, some I didn't want. A hedge +like this, in perfection, is the work of years. Some species must be cut +back, some encouraged, but soon it will be lovely, and its colour and +fruit attract every bird of the heavens and butterflies and insects of +all varieties. I set several common cherry trees for the robins and some +blackberry and raspberry vines for the orioles. The bloom is pretty and +the birds you'll have will be a treat to see and hear, if we keep away +cats, don't fire guns, scatter food, and move quietly among them. With +our water attractions added, there is nothing impossible in the way of +making friends with feathered folk.” + +“There is one thing I don't understand,” said the Girl. “You wouldn't +risk breaking the wing of a moth by keeping it when you wanted a drawing +very much; you don't seem to kill birds and animals that other people +do. You almost worship a tree; now how can you take a knife and peel the +bark to sell or dig up beautiful bushes by the root.” + +“Perhaps I've talked too much about the woods,” said the Harvester +gently. “I've longed inexpressibly for sympathetic company here, because +I feel rooted for life, so I am more than anxious that you should care +for it. I may have made you feel that my greatest interest is in the +woods, and that I am not consistent when I call on my trees and plants +to yield of their store for my purposes. Above everything else, the +human proposition comes first, Ruth. I do love my trees, bushes, and +flowers, because they keep me at the fountain of life, and teach me +lessons no book ever hints at; but above everything come my fellow men. +All I do is for them. My heart is filled with feeling for the things +you see around you here, but it would be joy to me to uproot the most +beautiful plant I have if by so doing I could save you pain. Other men +have wives they love as well, little children they have fathered, big +bodies useful to the world, that are sometimes crippled with disease. +There is nothing I would not give to allay the pain of humanity. It is +not inconsistent to offer any growing thing you soon can replace, to +cure suffering. Get that idea out of your head! You said you could +worship at the shrine of the pokeberry bed, you feel holier before the +arrowhead lilies, your face takes on an appearance of reverence when you +see pink mallow blooms. Which of them would you have hesitated a second +in uprooting if you could have offered it to subdue fever or pain in the +body of the little mother you loved?” + +“Oh I see!” cried the Girl. “Like everything else you make this +different. You worship all this beauty and grace, wrought by your +hands, but you carry your treasure to the market place for the good of +suffering humanity. Oh Man! I love the work you do!” + +“Good!” cried the Harvester. “Good! And Ruth-girl, while you are about +it, see if you can't combine the man and his occupation a little.” + + + +CHAPTER XVI. GRANNY MORELAND'S VISIT + +The following morning the Girl was awakened by wheels on the gravel +outside her window, and lifted her head to see Betsy passing with a load +of lumber. Shortly afterward the sound of hammer and saw came to her, +and she knew that Singing Water bridge was being roofed to provide shade +for her. She dressed and went to the kitchen to find a dainty breakfast +waiting, so she ate what she could, and then washed the dishes and +swept. By that time she was so tired she dropped on a dining-room window +seat, and lay looking toward the bridge. She could catch glimpses of +the Harvester as he worked. She watched his deft ease in handling heavy +timbers, and the assurance with which he builded. Sometimes he stood and +with tilted head studied his work a minute, then swiftly proceeded. He +placed three tree trunks on each side for pillars, laid joists across, +formed his angle, and nailed boards as a foundation for shingling. +Occasionally he glanced toward the cabin, and finally came swinging up +the drive. He entered the kitchen softly, but when he saw the Girl in +the window he sat at her feet. + +“Oh but this is a morning, Ruth!” he said. + +She looked at him closely. He radiated health and good cheer. His tanned +cheeks were flushed red with exercise, and the hair on his temples was +damp. + +“You have been breaking the rules,” he said. “It is the law that I am +to do the work until you are well and strong again. Why did you tire +yourself?” + +“I am so perfectly useless! I see so many things that I would enjoy +doing. Oh you can do everything else, make me well! Make me strong!” + +“How can I, when you won't do as I tell you?” + +“I will! Indeed I will!” + +“Then no more attempts to stand over dishes and clean big floors. You +mustn't overwork yourself at anything. The instant you feel in the least +tired you must lie down and rest.” + +“But Man! I'm tired every minute, with a dead, dull ache, and I don't +feel as if I ever would be rested again in all the world.” + +The Harvester took one of her hands, felt its fevered palm, fluttering +wrist pulse, and noticed that the brilliant red of her lips had extended +to spots on her cheeks. He formed his resolution. + +“Can't work on that bridge any more until I drive in for some big +nails,” he said. “Do you mind being left alone for an hour?” + +“Not at all, if Bel will stay with me. I'll lie in the swing.” + +“All right!” answered the Harvester. “I'll help you out and to get +settled. Is there anything you want from town?” + +“No, not a thing!” + +“Oh but you are modest!” cried the Harvester. “I can sit here and name +fifty things I want for you.” + +“Oh but you are extravagant!” imitated the Girl. “Please, please, Man, +don't! Can't you see I have so much now I don't know what to do with it? +Sometimes I almost forget the ache, just lying and looking at all the +wonderful riches that have come to me so suddenly. I can't believe they +won't vanish as they came. By the hour in the night I look at my lovely +room, and I just fight my eyes to keep them from closing for fear +they'll open in that stifling garret to the heat of day and work I have +not strength to do. I know yet all this will prove to be a dream and a +wilder one than yours.” + +The face of the Harvester was very anxious. + +“Please to remember my dream came true,” he said, “and much sooner than +I had the least hope that it would. I'm wide awake or I couldn't be +building bridges; and you are real, if I know flesh and blood when I +touch it.” + +“If I were well, strong, and attractive, I could understand,” she said. +“Then I could work in the house, at the drawings, help with the herbs, +and I'd feel as if I had some right to be here.” + +“All that is coming,” said the Harvester. “Take a little more time. You +can't expect to sin steadily against the laws of health for years, +and recover in a day. You will be all right much sooner than you think +possible.” + +“Oh I hope so!” said the Girl. “But sometimes I doubt it. How I could +come here and put such a burden on a stranger, I can't see. I scarcely +can remember what awful stress drove me. I had no courage. I should have +finished in my garret as my mother did. I must have some of my father's +coward blood in me. She never would have come. I never should!” + +“If it didn't make any real difference to you, and meant all the world +to me, I don't see why you shouldn't humour me. I can't begin to tell +you how happy I am to have you here. I could shout and sing all day.” + +“It requires very little to make some people happy.” + +“You are not much, but you are going to be more soon,” laughed the +Harvester, as he gently picked up the Girl and carried her to the swing, +where he covered her, kissed her hot hand, and whistled for Belshazzar. +He pulled the table close and set a pitcher of iced fruit juice on it. +Then he left her and she could hear the rattle of wheels as he crossed +the bridge and drove away. + +“Betsy, this is mighty serious business,” said the Harvester. “The +Girl is scorching or I don't know fever. I wonder----well, one thing +is sure----she is bound to be better off in pure, cool air and with +everything I can do to be kind, than in Henry Jameson's attic with +everything he could do to be mean. Pleasant men those Jamesons! Wonder +if the Girl's father was much like her Uncle Henry? I think not or her +refined and lovely mother never would have married him. Come to think of +it, that's no law, Betsy. I've seen beautiful and delicate women fall +under some mysterious spell, and yoke their lives with rank degenerates. +Whatever he was, they have paid the price. Maybe the wife deserved it, +and bore it in silence because she knew she did, but it's bitter hard on +Ruth. Girls should be taught to think at least one generation ahead when +they marry. I wonder what Doc will say, Betsy? He will have to come and +see for himself. I don't know how she will feel about that. I had hoped +I could pull her through with care, food, and tonics, but I don't dare +go any farther alone. Betsy, that's a thin, hot, little hand to hold a +man's only chance for happiness.” + +“Well, bridegroom! I've been counting the days!” said Doctor Carey. “The +Missus and I made it up this morning that we had waited as long as we +would. We are coming to-night. David.” + +“It's all right, Doc,” said the Harvester. “Don't you dare think +anything is wrong or that I am not the proudest, happiest man in this +world, because I appear anxious. I am not trying to conceal it from you. +You know we both agreed at first that Ruth should be in the hospital, +Doc. Well, she should! She is what would be a lovely woman if she were +not full of the poison of wrong food and air, overwork, and social +conditions that have warped her. She is all I dreamed of and more, but +I've come for you. She is too sick for me. I hoped she would begin to +gain strength at once on changed conditions. As yet I can't see any +difference. She needs a doctor, but I hate for her to know it. Could you +come out this afternoon, and pretend as if it were a visit? Bring Mrs. +Carey and watch the Girl. If you need an examination, I think she will +obey me. If you can avoid it, fix what she should have and send it back +to me by a messenger. I don't like to leave her when she is so ill.” + +“I'll come at once, David.” + +“Then she will know that I came for you, and that will frighten her. You +can do more good to wait until afternoon, and pretend you are making +a social call. I must go now. I'd have brought her in, but I have no +proper conveyance yet. I'm promised something soon, perhaps it is ready +now. Good-bye! Be sure to come!” + +The Harvester drove to a livery barn and examined a little horse, a +shining black creature that seemed gentle and spirited. He thought +favourably of it. A few days before he had selected a smart carriage, +and with this outfit tied behind the wagon he returned to Medicine +Woods. He left the horse at the bridge, stabled Betsy, and then returned +for the new conveyance, driving it to the hitching post. At the sound of +unexpected wheels the Girl lifted her head and stared at the turnout. + +“Come on!” cried the Harvester opening the screen. “We are going to the +woods to initiate your carriage.” + +She went with little cries of surprised wonder. + +“This is how you travel to Onabasha to do your shopping, to call on Mrs. +Carey and the friends you will make, and visit the library. When I've +tried out Mr. Horse enough to prove him reliable as guaranteed, he is +yours, for your purposes only, and when you grow wonderfully well and +strong, we'll sell him and buy you a real live horse and a stanhope, +such as city ladies have; and there must be a saddle so that you can +ride.” + +“Oh I'd love that!” cried the Girl. “I always wanted to ride! Where are +we going?” + +“To show you Medicine Woods,” said the Harvester. “I've been waiting +for this. You see there are several hundred acres of trees, thickets, +shrubs, and herb beds up there, and if the wagon road that winds between +them were stretched straight it would be many miles in length, so we +have a cool, shaded, perfumed driveway all our own. Let me get you a +drink before you start and the little shawl. It's chilly there compared +with here. Now are you comfortable and ready?” + +“Yes,” said the Girl. “Hurry! I've just longed to go, but I didn't like +to ask.” + +“I am sorry,” said the Harvester. “Living here for years alone and never +having had a sister, how am I going to know what a girl would like if +you don't tell me? I knew it would be too tiresome for you to walk, and +I was waiting to find a reliable horse and a suitable carriage.” + +“You won't scratch or spoil it up there?” + +“I'll lower the top. It is not as wide as the wagon, so nothing will +touch it.” + +“This is just so lovely, and such a wonderful treat, do you observe that +I'm not saying a word about extravagance?” asked the Girl, as she leaned +back in the carriage and inhaled the invigorating wood air. + +The horse climbed the hill, and the Harvester guided him down long, dim +roads through deep forest, while he explained what large thickets of +bushes were, why he grew them, how he collected the roots or bark, for +what each was used and its value. On and on they went, the way ahead +always appearing as if it were too narrow to pass, yet proving amply +wide when reached. Excited redbirds darted among the bushes, and the +Harvester answered their cry. Blackbirds protested against the unusual +intrusion of strange objects, and a brown thrush slipped from a late +nest close the road wailing in anxiety. + +One after another the Harvester introduced the Girl to the best trees, +speculated on their age, previous history, and pointed out which brought +large prices for lumber and which had medicinal bark and roots. On and +on they slowly drove through the woods, past the big beds of cranesbill, +violets, and lilies. He showed her where the mushrooms were most +numerous, and for the first time told the story of how he had sold them +and the violets from door to door in Onabasha in his search for her, and +the amazed Girl sat staring at him. He told of Doctor Carey having seen +her once, and inquired as they passed the bed if the yellow violets had +revived. He stopped to search and found a few late ones, deep among the +leaves. + +“Oh if I only had known that!” cried the Girl, “I would have kept them +forever.” + +“No need,” said the Harvester. “Here and now I present you with the sole +ownership of the entire white and yellow violet beds. Next spring you +shall fill your room. Won't that be a treat?” + +“One money never could buy!” cried the Girl. + +“Seems to be my strong point,” commented the Harvester. “The most I have +to offer worth while is something you can't buy. There is a fine fairy +platform. They can spare you one. I'll get it.” + +The Harvester broke from a tree a large fan-shaped fungus, the surface +satin fine, the base mossy, and explained to the Girl that these were +the ballrooms of the woods, the floors on which the little people dance +in the moonlight at their great celebrations. Then he added a piece +of woolly dog moss, and showed her how each separate spine was like a +perfect little evergreen tree. + +“That is where the fairies get their Christmas pines,” he explained. + +“Do you honestly believe in fairies?” + +“Surely!” exclaimed the Harvester. “Who would tell me when the maples +are dripping sap, and the mushrooms springing up, if the fairies didn't +whisper in the night? Who paints the flower faces, colours the leaves, +enamels the ripening fruit with bloom, and frosts the window pane to let +me know that it is time to prepare for winter? Of course! They are my +friends and everyday helpers. And the winds are good to me. They carry +down news when tree bloom is out, when the pollen sifts gold from the +bushes, and it's time to collect spring roots. The first bluebird always +brings me a message. Sometimes he comes by the middle of February, again +not until late March. Always on his day, Belshazzar decides my fate for +a year. Six years we've played that game; now it is ended in blessed +reality. In the woods and at my work I remain until I die, with a few +outside tries at medicine making. I am putting up some compounds in +which I really have faith. Of course they have got to await their time +to be tested, but I believe in them. I have grown stuff so carefully, +gathered it according to rules, washed it decently, and dried and mixed +it with such scrupulous care. Night after night I've sat over the books +until midnight and later, studying combinations; and day after day I've +stood in the laboratory testing and trying, and two or three will prove +effective, or I've a disappointment coming.” + +“You haven't wasted time! I'd much rather take medicines you make than +any at the pharmacies. Several times I've thought I'd ask you if you +wouldn't give me some of yours. The prescription Doctor Carey sent does +no good. I've almost drunk it, and I am constantly tired, just the +same. You make me something from these tonics and stimulants you've been +telling me about. Surely you can help me!” + +“I've got one combination that's going to save life, in my expectations. +But Ruth, it never has been tried, and I couldn't experiment on the very +light of my eyes with it. If I should give you something and you'd grow +worse as a result--I am a strong man, my girl, but I couldn't endure +that. I'd never dare. But dear, I am expecting Carey and his wife out +any time; probably they will come to-day, it's so beautiful; and when +they do, for my sake, won't you talk with him, tell him exactly what +made you ill, and take what he gives you? He's a great man. He was +recently President of the National Association of Surgeons. Long ago he +abandoned general practice, but he will prescribe for you; all his art +is at your command. It's quite an honour, Ruth. He performs all kinds +of miracles, and saves life every day. He had not seen you, and what he +gave me was only by guess. He may not think it is the right thing at all +after he meets you.” + +“Then I am really ill?” + +“No. You only have the germs of illness in your blood, and if you +will help me that much we can eliminate them; and then it is you for +housekeeper, with first assistant in me, the drawing tools, paint +box, and all the woods for subjects. So, as I was going to tell you, +Belshazzar and I have played our game for the last time. That decision +was ultimate. Here I will work, live, and die. Here, please God, +strong and happy, you shall live with me. Ruth, you have got to recover +quickly. You will consult the doctor?” + +“Yes, and I wish he would hurry,” said the Girl. “He can't make me new +too soon to suit me. If I had a strong body, oh Man, I just feel as if +you could find a soul somewhere in it that would respond to all these +wonders you have brought me among. Oh! make me well, and I'll try as +woman never did before to bring you happiness to pay for it.” + +“Careful now,” warned the Harvester. “There is to be no talk of +obligations between you and me. Your presence here and your growing +trust in me are all I ask at the hands of fate at present. Long ago I +learned to 'labour and to wait.' By the way----here's my most difficult +labour and my longest wait. This is the precious gingseng bed.” + +“How pretty!” exclaimed the Girl. + +Covering acres of wood floor, among the big trees, stretched the lacy +green carpet. On slender, upright stalks waved three large leaves, each +made up of five stemmed, ovate little leaves, round at the base, sharply +pointed at the tip. A cluster of from ten to twenty small green berries, +that would turn red later, arose above. The Harvester lifted a plant +to show the Girl that the Chinese name, Jin-chen, meaning man-like, +originated because the divided root resembled legs. Away through the +woods stretched the big bed, the growth waving lightly in the wind, the +peculiar odour filling the air. + +“I am going to wait to gather the crop until the seeds are ripe,” said +the Harvester, “then bury some as I dig a root. My father said that was +the way of the Indians. It's a mighty good plan. The seeds are delicate, +and difficult to gather and preserve properly. Instead of collecting and +selling all of them to start rivals in the business, I shall replant my +beds. I must find a half dozen assistants to harvest this crop in that +way, and it will be difficult, because it will come when my neighbours +are busy with corn.” + +“Maybe I can help you.” + +“Not with ginseng digging,” laughed the Harvester. “That is not woman's +work. You may sit in an especially attractive place and boss the job.” + +“Oh dear!” cried the Girl. “Oh dear! I want to get out and walk.” + +Gradually they had climbed the summit of the hill, descended on the +other side, and followed the road through the woods until they reached +the brier patches, fruit trees; and the garden of vegetables, with big +beds of sage, rue, wormwood, hoarhound, and boneset. From there to the +lake sloped the sunny fields of mullein and catnip, and the earth was +molten gold with dandelion creeping everywhere. + +“Too hot to-day,” cautioned the Harvester. “Too rough walking. Wait +until fall, and I have a treat there for you. Another flower I want you +to love because I do.” + +“I will,” said the Girl promptly. “I feel it in my heart.” + +“Well I am glad you feel something besides the ache of fever,” said the +Harvester. Then noticing her tired face he added: “Now this little horse +had quite a trip from town, and the wheels cut deeply into this woods +soil and make difficult pulling, so I wonder if I had not better put +him in the stable and let him become acquainted with Betsy. I don't know +what she will think. She has had sole possession for years. Maybe she +will be jealous, perhaps she will be as delighted for company as her +master. Ruth, if you could have heard what I said to Belshazzar when he +decided I was to go courting this year, and seen what I did to him, and +then take a look at me now----merciful powers, I hope the dog doesn't +remember! If he does, no wonder he forms a new allegiance so easily. +Have you observed that lately when I whistle, he starts, and then turns +back to see if you want him? He thinks as much of you as he does of me +right now.” + +“Oh no!” cried the Girl. “That couldn't be possible. You told me I must +make friends with him, so I have given him food, and tried to win him.” + +“You sit in the carriage until I put away the horse, and then I'll help +you to the cabin, and save you being alone while I work. Would you like +that?” + +“Yes.” + +She leaned her head against the carriage top the Harvester had raised to +screen her, and watched him stable the horse. Evidently he was very fond +of animals for he talked as if it were a child he was undressing and +kept giving it extra strokes and pats as he led it away. Ajax disliked +the newcomer instantly, noticed the carriage and the woman's dress, and +screamed his ugliest. The Girl smiled. As the Harvester appeared she +inquired, “Is Ajax now sending a wireless to Ceylon asking for a mate?” + +The Harvester looked at her quizzically and saw a gleam of mischief in +the usually dull dark eyes that delighted him. + +“That is the customary supposition when he finds voice,” he said. “But +since this has become your home, you are bound to learn some of my +secrets. One of them I try to guard is the fact that Ajax has a temper. +No my dear, he is not always sending a wireless, I am sorry to say. I +wish he was! As a matter of fact he is venting his displeasure at any +difference in our conditions. He hates change. He learned that from me. +I will enjoy seeing him come for favour a year from now, as I learned +to come for it, even when I didn't get much, and the road lay west of +Onabasha. Ajax, stop that! There's no use to object. You know you think +that horse is nice company for you, and that two can feed you more than +one. Don't be a hypocrite! Cease crying things you don't mean, and learn +to love the people I do. Come on, old boy!” + +The peacock came, but with feathers closely pressed and stepping +daintily. As the bird advanced, the Harvester retreated, until he stood +beside the Girl, and then he slipped some grain to her hand and she +offered it. But Ajax would not be coaxed. He was too fat and well fed. +He haughtily turned and marched away, screaming at intervals. + +“Nasty temper!” commented the Harvester. “Never mind! He soon will +become accustomed to you, and then he will love you as Belshazzar does. +Feed the doves instead. They are friendly enough in all conscience. Do +you notice that there is not a coloured feather among them? The squab +that is hatched with one you may have for breakfast. Now let's go find +something to eat, and I will finish the bridge so you can rest there +to-night and watch the sun set on Singing Water.” + +So they went into the cabin and prepared food, and then the Harvester +told the Girl to make herself so pretty that she would be a picture and +come and talk to him while he finished the roof. She went to her room, +found a pale lavender linen dress and put it on, dusted the pink powder +thickly, and went where a wide bench made an inviting place in the +shade. There she sat and watched her lightly expressed whim take shape. + +“Soon as this is finished,” said the Harvester, “I am going to begin on +that tea table. I can make it in a little while, if you want it to match +the other furniture.” + +“I do,” said the Girl. + +“Wonder if you could draw a plan showing how it should appear. I am a +little shy on tea tables.” + +“I think I can.” + +The Harvester brought paper, pencil, and a shingle for a drawing pad. + +“Now remember one thing,” he said. “If you are in earnest about using +those old blue dishes, this has got to be a big, healthy table. A little +one will appear top heavy with them. It would be a good idea to set out +what you want to use, arranged as you would like them, and let me take +the top measurement that way.” + +“All right! I'll only indicate how its legs should be and we will +find the size later. I could almost weep because that wonderful set is +broken. If I had all of it I'd be so proud!” + +The Girl bent over the drawing. The Harvester worked with his attention +divided between her, the bridge, and the road. At last he saw the big +red car creeping up the valley. + +“Seems to be some one coming, Ruth! Guess it must be Doc. I'll go open +the gate?” + +“Yes,” said the Girl. “I'm so glad. You won't forget to ask him to help +me if he can?” + +The Harvester wheeled hastily. “I won't forget!” he said, as he hurried +to the gate. The car ran slowly, and the Girl could see him swing to +the step and stand talking as they advanced. When they reached her they +stopped and all of them came forward. She went to meet them. She shook +hands with Mrs. Carey and then with the doctor. + +“I am so glad you have come,” she said. + +“I hope you are not lonesome already,” laughed the doctor. + +“I don't think any one with brains to appreciate half of this ever could +become lonely here,” answered the Girl. “No, it isn't that.” + +“A-ha!” cried the doctor, turning to his wife. “You see that the +beautiful young lady remembers me, and has been wishing I would come. I +always said you didn't half appreciate me. What a place you are making, +David! I'll run the car to the shade and join you.” + +For a long time they talked under the trees, then they went to see the +new home and all its furnishings. + +“Now this is what I call comfort,” said the doctor. “David, build us a +house exactly similar to this over there on the hill, and let us live +out here also. I'd love it. Would you, Clara?” + +“I don't know. I never lived in the country. One thing is sure: If I +tried it, I'd prefer this to any other place I ever saw. David, won't +you take me far enough up the hill that I can look from the top to the +lake?” + +“Certainly,” said the Harvester. “Excuse us a little while, Ruth!” + +As soon as they were gone the Girl turned to the doctor. + +“Doctor Carey, David says you are great. Won't you exercise your art on +me. I am not at all well, and oh! I'd so love to be strong and sound.” + +“Will you tell me,” asked the doctor, “just enough to show me what +caused the trouble?” + +“Bad air and water, poor light and food at irregular times, overwork and +deep sorrow; every wrong condition of life you could imagine, with not a +ray of hope in the distance, until now. For the sake of the Harvester, I +would be well again. Please, please try to cure me!” + +So they talked until the doctor thought he knew all he desired, and then +they went to see the gold flower garden. + +“I call this simply superb,” said he, taking a seat beneath the tree +roof of her porch. “Young woman, I don't know what I'll do to you if you +don't speedily grow strong here. This is the prettiest place I ever saw, +and listen to the music of that bubbling, gurgling little creek!” + +“Isn't he wonderful?” asked the Girl, looking up the hill, where the +tall form of the Harvester could be seen moving around. “Just to see +him, you would think him the essence of manly strength and force. And +he is! So strong! Into the lake at all hours, at the dry-house, on the +hill, grubbing roots, lifting big pillars to support a bridge roof, +and with it all a fancy as delicate as any dreaming girl. Doctor, the +fairies paint the flowers, colour the fruit, and frost the windows for +him; and the winds carry pollen to tell him when his growing things are +ready for the dry-house. I don't suppose I can tell you anything new +about him; but isn't he a perpetual surprise? Never like any one else! +And no matter how he startles me in the beginning, he always ends by +convincing me, at least, that he is right.” + +“I never loved any other man as I do him,” said the doctor. “I ushered +him into the world when I was a young man just beginning to practise, +and I've known him ever since. I know few men so scrupulously clean. Try +to get well and make him happy, Mrs. Langston. He so deserves it.” + +“You may be sure I will,” answered the Girl. + +After the visitors had gone, the Harvester told her to place the old +blue dishes as she would like to arrange them on her table, so he could +get a correct idea of the size, and he left to put a few finishing +strokes on the bridge cover. She went into the dining-room and opened +the china closet. She knew from her peep in the work-room that there +would be more pieces than she had seen before; but she did not think +or hope that a full half dozen tea set and plates, bowl, platter, and +pitcher would be waiting for her. + +“Why Ruth, what made you tire yourself to come down? I intended to +return in a few minutes.” + +“Oh Man!” cried the laughing Girl, as she clung pantingly to a bridge +pillar for support, “I just had to come to tell you. There are fairies! +Really truly ones! They have found the remainder of the willow dishes +for me, and now there are so many it isn't going to be a table at all. +It must be a little cupboard especially for them, in that space between +the mantel and the bookcase. There should be a shining brass tea +canister, and a wafer box like the arts people make, and I'll pour tea +and tend the chafing dish and you can toast the bread with a long fork +over the coals, and we will have suppers on the living-room table, and +it will be such fun.” + +“Be seated!” cried the Harvester. “Ruth, that's the longest speech I +ever heard you make, and it sounded, praise the Lord, like a girl. Did +Doc say he would fix something for you?” + +“Yes, such a lot of things! I am going to shut my eyes and open my mouth +and swallow all of them. I'm going to be born again and forget all I +ever knew before I came here, and soon I will be tagging you everywhere, +begging you to suggest designs for my pencil, and I'll simply force life +to come right for you.” + +The Harvester smiled. + +“Sounds good!” he said. “But, Ruth, I'm a little dubious about force +work. Life won't come right for me unless you learn to love me, and +love is a stubborn, contrary bulldog element of our nature that won't +be driven an inch. It wanders as the wind, and strikes us as it will. +You'll arrive at what I hope for much sooner if you forget it and amuse +yourself and be as happy as you can. Then, perhaps all unknown to you, +a little spark of tenderness for me will light in your breast; and if it +ever does we will buy a fanning mill and put it in operation, and we'll +raise a flame or know why.” + +“And there won't be any force in that?” + +“What you can't compel is the start. It's all right to push any growth +after you have something to work on.” + +“That reminds me,” said the Girl, “there is a question I want to ask +you.” + +“Go ahead!” said the Harvester, glancing at her as he hewed a joist. + +She turned away her face and sat looking across the lake for a long +time. + +“Is it a difficult question, Ruth?” inquired the Harvester to help her. + +“Yes,” said the Girl. “I don't know how to make you see.” + +“Take any kind of a plunge. I'm not usually dense.” + +“It is really quite simple after all. It's about a girl----a girl I +knew very well in Chicago. She had a problem----and it worried her +dreadfully, and I just wondered what you would think of it.” + +The Harvester shifted his position so that he could watch the side of +the averted face. + +“You'll have to tell me, before I can tell you,” he suggested. + +“She was a girl who never had anything from life but work and worry. Of +course, that's the only kind I'd know! One day when the work was most +difficult, and worry cut deepest, and she really thought she was losing +her mind, a man came by and helped her. He lifted her out, and rescued +all that was possible for a man to save to her in honour, and went his +way. There wasn't anything more. Probably there never would be. His +heart was great, and he stooped and pitied her gently and passed on. +After a time another man came by, a good and noble man, and he offered +her love so wonderful she hadn't brains to comprehend how or why it +was.” + +The Girl's voice trailed off as if she were too weary to speak further, +while she leaned her head against a pillar and gazed with dull eyes +across the lake. + +“And your question,” suggested the Harvester at last. + +She roused herself. “Oh, the question! Why this----if in time, and +after she had tried and tried, love to equal his simply would not come +would----would----she be wrong to PRETEND she cared, and do the very +best she could, and hope for real love some day? Oh David, would she?” + +The Harvester's face was whiter than the Girl's. He pounded the chisel +into the joist savagely. + +“Would she, David?” + +“Let me understand you clearly,” said the man in a dry, breathless +voice. “Did she love this first man to whom she came under obligations?” + +The Girl sat gazing across the lake and the tortured Harvester stared at +her. + +“I don't know,” she said at last. “I don't know whether she knew what +love was or ever could. She never before had known a man; her heart was +as undeveloped and starved as her body. I don't think she realized love, +but there was a SOMETHING. Every time she would feel most grateful and +long for the love that was offered her, that 'something' would awake and +hurt her almost beyond endurance. Yet she knew he never would come. She +knew he did not care for her. I don't know that she felt she wanted him, +but she was under such obligations to him that it seemed as if she must +wait to see if he might not possibly come, and if he did she should be +free.” + +“If he came, she preferred him?” + +“There was a debt she had to pay----if he asked it. I don't know whether +she preferred him. I do know she had no idea that he would come, but the +POSSIBILITY was always before her. If he didn't come in time, would she +be wrong in giving all she had to the man who loved her?” + +The Harvester's laugh was short and sharp. + +“She had nothing to give, Ruth! Talk about worm-wood, colocynth apples, +and hemlock! What sort of husks would that be to offer a man who gave +honest love? Lie to him! Pretend feeling she didn't experience. Endure +him for the sake of what he offered her? Well I don't know how calmly +any other man would take that proceeding, Ruth, but tell your friend for +me, that if I offered a woman the deep, lasting, and only loving passion +of my heart, and she gave back a lie and indifferent lips, I'd drop her +into the deepest hole of my lake and take my punishment cheerfully.” + +“But if it would make him happy? He deserves every happiness, and he +need never know!” + +The Harvester's laugh raised to an angry roar. + +“You simpleton!” he cried roughly. “Do you know so little of human +passion in the heart that you think love can be a successful assumption? +Good Lord, Ruth! Do you think a man is made of wood or stone, that a +woman's lips in her first kiss wouldn't tell him the truth? Why Girl, +you might as well try to spread your tired arms and fly across the lake +as to attempt to pretend a love you do not feel. You never could!” + +“I said a girl I knew!” + +“'A Girl you knew,' then! Any woman! The idea is monstrous. Tell her so +and forget it. You almost scared the life out of me for a minute, Ruth. +I thought it was going to be you. But I remember your debt is to be paid +with the first money you earn, and you can not have the slightest idea +what love is, if you honestly ask if it can be simulated. No ma'am! It +can't! Not possibly! Not ever! And when the day comes that its fires +light your heart, you will come to me, and tell of a flood of delight +that is tingling from the soles of your feet through every nerve and +fibre of your body, and you will laugh with me at the time when you +asked if it could be imitated successfully. No, ma'am! Now let me help +you to the cabin, serve a good supper, and see you eat like a farmer.” + +All evening the Harvester was so gay he kept the Girl laughing and at +last she asked him the cause. + +“Relief, honey! Relief!” cried the man. “You had me paralyzed for a +minute, Ruth. I thought you were trying to tell me that there was some +one so possessing your heart that it failed every time you tried +to think about caring for me. If you hadn't convinced me before you +finished that love never has touched you, I'd be the saddest man in the +world to-night, Ruth.” + +The Girl stared at him with wide eyes and silently turned away. + +Then for a week they worked out life together in the woods. The +Harvester was the housekeeper and the cook. He added to his store many +delicious broths and stimulants he brought from the city. They drove +every day through the cool woods, often rowed on the lake in the +evenings, walked up the hill to the oak and scattered fresh flowers +on the two mounds there, and sat beside them talking for a time. The +Harvester kept up his work with the herbs, and the little closet for +the blue dishes was finished. They celebrated installing them by having +supper on the living-room table, with the teapot on one end, and the +pitcher full of bellflowers on the other. + +The Girl took everything prescribed for her, bathed, slept all she +could, and worked for health with all the force of her frail being, and +as the days went by it seemed to the Harvester her weight grew lighter, +her hands hotter, and she drove herself to a gayety almost delirious. He +thought he would have preferred a dull, stupid sleep of malaria. There +was colour in plenty on her cheeks now, and sometimes he found her +wrapped in the white shawl at noon on the warmest days Medicine Woods +knew in early August; and on cool nights she wore the thinnest clothing +and begged to be taken on the lake. The Careys came out every other +evening and the doctor watched and worked, but he did not get the +results he desired. His medicines were not effective. + +“David,” he said one evening, “I don't like the looks of this. Your wife +has fever I can't break. It is eating the little store of vitality she +has right out of her, and some of these days she is coming down with a +crash. She should yield to the remedies I am giving her. She acts to +me like a woman driven wild by trouble she is concealing. Do you know +anything that worries her?” + +“No,” said the Harvester, “but I'll try to find out if it will help you +in your work.” + +After they were gone he left the Girl lying in the swing guarded by the +dog, and went across the marsh on the excuse that he was going to a bed +of thorn apple at the foot of the hill. There he sat on a log and tried +to think. With the mists of night rising around him, ghosts arose he +fain would have escaped. “What will you give me in cold cash to tell you +who she is, and who her people are?” Times untold in the past two weeks +he had smothered, swallowed, and choked it down. That question she had +wanted to ask----was it for a girl she had known, or was it for herself? +Days of thought had deepened the first slight impression he so bravely +had put aside, not into certainty, but a great fear that she had meant +herself. If she did, what was he to do? Who was the man? There was a +debt she had to pay if he asked it? What debt could a woman pay a man +that did not involve money? Crouched on a log he suffered and twisted +in agonizing thought. At last he arose and returned to the cabin. He +carried a few frosty, blue-green leaves of velvet softness and unusual +cutting, prickly thorn apples full of seeds, and some of the smoother, +more yellowish-green leaves of the jimson weed, to give excuse for his +absence. + +“Don't touch them,” he warned as he came to her. “They are poison +and have disagreeable odour. But we are importing them for medicinal +purposes. On the far side of the marsh, where the ground rises, there +is a waste place just suited to them, and so long as they will seed +and flourish with no care at all, I might as well have the price as +the foreign people who raise them. They don't bring enough to make them +worth cultivating, but when they grow alone and with no care, I can make +money on the time required to clip the leaves and dry the seeds. I must +go wash before I come close to you.” + +The next day he had business in the city, and again she lay in the swing +and talked to the dog while the Harvester was gone. She was startled as +Belshazzar arose with a gruff bark. She looked down the driveway, but no +one was coming. Then she followed the dog's eyes and saw a queer, +little old woman coming up the bank of Singing Water from the north. She +remembered what the Harvester had said, and rising she opened the screen +and went down the path. As the Girl advanced she noticed the scrupulous +cleanliness of the calico dress and gingham apron, and the snowy hair +framing a bronzed face with dancing dark eyes. + +“Are you David's new wife?” asked Granny Moreland with laughing +inflection. + +“Yes,” said the Girl. “Come in. He told me to expect you. I am so sorry +he is away, but we can get acquainted without him. Let me help you.” + +“I don't know but that ought to be the other way about. You don't look +very strong, child.” + +“I am not well,” said the Girl, “but it's lovely here, and the air is +so fine I am going to be better soon. Take this chair until you rest a +little, and then you shall see our pretty home, and all the furniture +and my dresses.” + +“Yes, I want to see things. My, but David has tried himself! I heard +he was just tearin' up Jack over here, and I could get the sound of the +hammerin', and one day he asked me to come and see about his beddin'. He +had that Lizy Crofter to wash for him, but if I hadn't jest stood over +her his blankets would have been ruined. She's no more respect for +fine goods than a pig would have for cream pie. I hate to see woollens +abused, as if they were human. My, but things is fancy here since what +David planted is growin'! Did you ever live in the country before?” + +“No.” + +“Where do you hail from?” + +“Well not from the direction of hail,” laughed the Girl. “I lived in +Chicago, but we were----were not rich, and so I didn't know the luxury +of the city; just the lonely, difficult part.” + +“Do you call Chicago lonely?” + +“A thousand times more so than Medicine Woods. Here I know the trees +will whisper to me, and the water laughs and sings all day, and the +birds almost split their throats making music for me; but I can imagine +no loneliness on earth that will begin to compare with being among the +crowds and crowds of a large city and no one has a word or look for you. +I miss the sea of faces and the roar of life; at first I was almost wild +with the silence, but now I don't find it still any more; the Harvester +is teaching me what each sound means and they seem to be countless.” + +“You think, then, you'll like it here?” + +“I do, indeed! Any one would. Even more than the beautiful location, I +love the interesting part of the Harvester's occupation. I really think +that gathering material to make medicines that will allay pain is the +very greatest of all the great work a man can do.” + +“Good!” cried Granny Moreland, her dark eyes snapping. “I've always +said it! I've tried to encourage David in it. And he's just capital at +puttin' some of his stuff in shape, and combinin' it in as good medicine +as you ever took. This spring I was all crippled up with the rheumatiz +until I wanted to holler every time I had to move, and sometimes it got +so aggravatin' I'm not right sure but I done it. 'Long comes David and +says, 'I can fix you somethin',' and bless you, if the boy didn't take +the tucks out of me, until here I am, and tickled to pieces that I can +get here. This time last year I didn't care if I lived or not. Now seems +as if I'm caperish as a three weeks' lamb. I don't see how a man could +do a bigger thing than to stir up life in you like that.” + +“I think this place makes an especial appeal to me, because, shortly +before I came, I had to give up my mother. She was very ill and suffered +horribly. Every time I see David going to his little laboratory on +the hill to work a while I slip away and ask God to help him to fix +something that will ease the pain of humanity as I should like to have +seen her relieved.” + +“Why you poor child! No wonder you are lookin' so thin and peaked!” + +“Oh I'll soon be over that,” said the Girl. “I am much better than when +I came. I'll be coming over to trade pie with you before long. David +says you are my nearest neighbour, so we must be close friends.” + +“Well bless your big heart! Now who ever heard of a pretty young thing +like you wantin' to be friends with a plain old country woman?” + +“Why I think you are lovely!” cried the Girl. “And all of us are on the +way to age, so we must remember that we will want kindness then more +than at any other time. David says you knew his mother. Sometime won't +you tell me all about her? You must very soon. The Harvester adored her, +and Doctor Carey says she was the noblest woman he ever knew. It's a +big contract to take her place. Maybe if you would tell me all you can +remember I could profit by much of it.” + +Granny Moreland watched the Girl keenly. + +“She wa'ant no ordinary woman, that's sure,” she commented. “And she +didn't make no common man out of her son, either. I've always contended +she took the job too serious, and wore herself out at it, but she +certainly done the work up prime. If she's above cloud leanin' over the +ramparts lookin' down----though it gets me as to what foundation they +use or where they get the stuff to build the ramparts----but if they +is ramparts, and she's peekin' over them, she must take a lot of solid +satisfaction in seeing that David is not only the man she fought and +died to make him, but he's give her quite a margin to spread herself +on. She 'lowed to make him a big man, but you got to know him close +and plenty 'fore it strikes you jest what his size is. I've watched him +pretty sharp, and tried to help what I could since Marthy went, and I'm +frank to say I druther see David happy than to be happy myself. I've had +my fling. The rest of the way I'm willin' to take what comes, with the +best grace I can muster, and wear a smilin' face to betoken the joy I +have had; but it cuts me sore to see the young sufferin'.” + +“Do you think David is unhappy?” asked the Girl eagerly. + +“I don't see how he could be!” cried the old lady. “Of course he +ain't! 'Pears as if he's got everythin' to make him the proudest, best +satisfied of men. I'll own I was mighty anxious to see you. I know +the kind o' woman it would take to make David miserable, and it seems +sometimes as if men----that is good men----are plumb, stone blind when +it comes to pickin' a woman. They jest hitch up with everlastin' misery +easy as dew rolling off a cabbage leaf. It's sech a blessed sight to see +you, and hear your voice and know you're the woman anybody can see you +be. Why I'm so happy when I set here and con-tem'-plate you, I want +to cackle like a pullet announcin' her first egg. Ain't this porch the +purtiest place?” + +“Come see everything,” invited the Girl, rising. + +Granny Moreland followed with alacrity. + +“Bare floors!” she cried. “Wouldn't that best you? I saw they was +finished capital when I was over, but I 'lowed they'd be covered afore +you come. Don't you like nice, flowery Brissels carpets, honey?” + +“No I don't,” said the Girl. “You see, when rugs are dusty they can be +rolled, carried outside, and cleaned. The walls can be wiped, the floors +polished and that way a house is always fresh. I can keep this shining, +germ proof, and truly clean with half the work and none of the danger of +heavy carpets and curtains.” + +“I don't doubt but them is true words,” said Granny Moreland earnestly. +“Work must be easier and sooner done than it was in my day, or people +jest couldn't have houses the size of this or the time to gad that women +have now. From the looks of the streets of Onabasha, you wouldn't think +a woman 'ud had a baby to tend, a dinner pot a-bilin', or a bakin' of +bread sence the flood. And the country is jest as bad as the city. We're +a apin' them to beat the monkeys at a show. I hardly got a neighbour +that ain't got figgered Brissels carpet, a furnace, a windmill, a +pianny, and her own horse and buggy. Several's got autermobiles, and the +young folks are visitin' around a-ridin' the trolleys, goin' to college, +and copyin' city ways. Amos Peters, next to us; goes bareheaded in the +hay field, and wears gloves to pitch and plow in. I tell him he reminds +me of these city women that only wears the lower half of a waist and no +sleeves, and a yard of fine goods moppin' the floors. Well if that don't +'beat the nation! Ain't them Marthy's old blue dishes?” + +“Let me show you!” The Girl opened the little cupboard and exhibited the +willow ware. The eyes of the old woman began to sparkle. + +“Foundation or no foundation, I do hope them ramparts is a go!” she +cried. “If Marthy Langston is squintin' over them and she sees her old +chany put in a fine cupboard, and her little shawl round as purty a girl +as ever stepped, and knows her boy is gittin' what he deserves, good +Lord, she'll be like to oust the Almighty, and set on the throne +herself! 'Bout everythin' in life was a disappointment to her, 'cept +David. Now if she could see this! Won't I rub it into the neighbours? +And my boys' wives!” + +“I don't understand,” said the bewildered Girl. + +“'Course you don't, honey,” explained the visitor. “It's like this: I +don't know anybody, man or woman, in these parts, that ain't rampagin' +for CHANGE. They ain't one of them that would live in a log cabin, +though they's not a house in twenty miles of here that fits its +surroundin's and looks so homelike as this. They run up big, fancy brick +and frame things, all turns and gables and gay as frosted picnic pie, +and work and slave to git these very carpets you say ain't healthy, +and the chairs you say you wouldn't give house room, an' they use their +grandmother's chany for bakin', scraps, and grease dishes, and hide it +if they's visitors. All of them strainin' after something they can't +afford, and that ain't healthy when they git it, because somebody else +is doin' the same thing. Mary Peters says she is afeared of her life in +their new steam wagon, and she says Andy gits so narvous runnin' it, he +jest keeps on a-jerkin' and drivin' all night, and she thinks he'll +soon go to smash himself, if the machine doesn't beat him. But they +are keepin' it up, because Graceston's is, and so it goes all over the +country. Now I call it a slap right in the face to have a Chicagy woman +come to the country to live and enjoy a log cabin, bare floors, and her +man's grandmother's dishes. If there ain't Marthy's old blue coverlid +also carefully spread on a splinter new sofy. Landy, I can't wait to get +to my son John's! He's got a woman that would take two coppers off the +collection plate while she was purtendin' to put on one, if she could, +and then spend them for a brass pin or a string of glass beads. Won't +her eyes bung when I tell her about this? She wanted my Peter Hartman +kiver for her ironin' board. Show me the rest!” + +“This is the dining-room,” said the Girl, leading the way. + +Granny Moreland stepped in and sent her keen eyes ranging over the +floor, walls, and furnishings. She sank on a chair and said with a +chuckle, “Now you go on and tell me all about it, honey. Jest what +things are and why you fixed them, and how they are used.” + +The Girl did her best, and the old woman nodded in delighted approval. + +“It's the purtiest thing I ever saw,” she announced. “A minute ago, I'd +'a' said them blue walls back there, jest like October skies in Indian +summer, and the brown rugs, like leaves in the woods, couldn't be beat; +but this green and yaller is purtier yet. That blue room will keep the +best lookin' part of fall on all winter, and with a roarin' wood fire, +it'll be capital, and no mistake; but this here is spring, jest spring +eternal, an' that's best of all. Looks like it was about time the leaves +was bustin' and things pushin' up. It wouldn't surprise me a mite to see +a flock of swallers come sailin' right through these winders. And here's +a place big enough to lay down and rest a spell right handy to the +kitchen, where a-body gits tiredest, without runnin' a half mile to find +a bed, and in the mornin' you can look down to the 'still waters'; and +in the afternoon, when the sun gits around here, you can pull that blind +and 'lift your eyes to the hills,' like David of the Bible says. My, +didn't he say the purtiest things! I never read nothin' could touch +him!” + +“Have you seen the Psalms arranged in verse as we would write it now?” + +“You don't mean to tell me David's been put into real poetry?” + +“Yes. Some Bibles have all the poetical books in our forms of verse.” + +“Well! Sometimes I git kind o' knocked out! As a rule I hold to old +ways. I think they're the healthiest and the most faver'ble to the soul. +But they's some changes come along, that's got sech hard common-sense +to riccomend them, that I wonder the past generations didn't see sooner. +Now take this! An hour ago I'd told you I'd read my father's Bible to +the end of my days. But if they's a new one that's got David, Solomon, +and Job in nateral form, I'll have one, and I'll git a joy I never +expected out of life. I ain't got so much poetry in me, but it always +riled me to read, '7. The law of the Lord is perfect, covertin' the +soul. 8. The statutes of the Lord are right. 9. The fear of the Lord +is clean.' And so it goes on, 'bout as much figgers as they is poetry. +Always did worry me. So if they make Bibles 'cordin' to common sense, +I'll have one to-morrow if I have to walk to Onabasha to get it. Lawsy +me! if you ain't gathered up Marthy's old pink tea set, and give it a +show, too! Did you do that to please David, or do you honestly think +them is nice dishes?” + +“I think they are beautiful,” laughed the Girl, sinking to a chair. “I +don't know that it did please him. He had been studying the subject, +but something saved him from buying anything until I came. I'd have felt +dreadfully if he had gotten what he wanted.” + +“What did he want, honey?” asked the old lady in an awestruck whisper. + +“Egg-shell china and cut glass.” + +“And you wouldn't let him! Woman! What do you want?” + +“A set of tulip-yellow dishes, with Dutch little figures on them. They +are so quaint and they would harmonize perfectly with this room.” + +The old lady laughed gleefully. + +“My! I wouldn't 'a' missed this for a dollar,” she cried. “It jest does +my soul good. More'n that, if you really like Marthy's dishes and are +going to take care of them and use them right, I'll give you mine, too. +I ain't never had a girl. I've always hoped she'd 'a' had some jedgment +of her own, and not been eternally apin', if I had, but the Lord may 'a' +saved me many a disappointment by sendin' all mine boys. Not that I'm +layin' the babies on to the Lord at all----I jest got into the habit of +sayin' that, 'cos everybody else does, but all mine, I had a purty +good idy how I got them. If a girl of mine wouldn't 'a' had more sense, +raised right with me, I'd' a' been purty bad cut up over it. Of course, +I can't be held responsible for the girls my boys married, but t'other +day Emmeline----that's John's wife----John is the youngest, and I sort +o' cling to him----Emmeline she says to me, 'Mother, can't I have this +old pink and green teapot?' My heart warmed right up to the child, and +I says, 'What do you want it for, Emmeline?' And she says, 'To draw the +tea in.' Cracky Dinah! That fool woman meant to set my grandmother's +weddin' present from her pa and ma, dishes same as Marthy Washington +used, on the stove to bile the tea in. I jest snorted! 'No, says I, 'you +can't! 'Fore I die,' says I, 'I'll meet up with some woman that 'll love +dishes and know how to treat them.' I think jest about as much of David +as I do my own boys, and I don't make no bones of the fact that he's a +heap more of a man. I'd jest as soon my dishes went to his children +as to John's. I'll give you every piece I got, if you'll take keer of +them.” + +“Would it be right?” wavered the girl. + +“Right! Why, I'm jest tellin' you the fool wimmen would bile tea in +them, make grease sassers of them, and use them to dish up the bakin' +on! Wouldn't you a heap rather see them go into a cupboard like David's +ma's is in, where they'd be taken keer of, if they was yours? I guess +you would!” + +“Well if you feel that way, and really want us to have them, I know +David will build another little cupboard on the other side of the +fireplace to put yours in, and I can't tell you how I'd love and care +for them.” + +“I'll jest do it!” said Granny Moreland. “I got about as many blue ones +as Marthy had an' mine are purtier than hers. And my lustre is brighter, +for I didn't use it so much. Is this the kitchen? Well if I ever saw +sech a cool, white place to cook in before! Ain't David the beatenest +hand to think up things? He got the start of that takin' keer of his +ma all his life. He sort of learned what a woman uses, and how it's +handiest. Not that other men don't know; it's jest that they are too +mortal selfish and keerless to fix things. Well this is great! Now when +you bile cabbage and the wash, always open your winders wide and let the +steam out, so it won't spile your walls.” + +“I'll be very careful,” promised the Girl. “Now come see my bathroom, +closet and bedroom.” + +“Well as I live! Ain't this fine. I'll bet a purty that if I'd 'a' had +a room and a trough like this to soak in when I was wore to a frazzle, I +wouldn't 'a' got all twisted up with rheumatiz like I am. It jest looks +restful to see. I never washed in a place like this in all my days. Must +feel grand to be wet all over at once! Now everybody ought to have sech +a room and use it at all hours, like David does the lake. Did you ever +see his beat to go swimmin'? He's always in splashin'! Been at it all +his life. I used to be skeered when he was a little tyke. He soaked so +much 'peared like he'd wash all the substance out of him, but it only +made him strong.” + +“Has he ever been ill?” + +“Not that I know of, and I reckon I'd knowed it if he had. Well what a +clothespress! I never saw so many dresses at once. Ain't they purty? Oh +I wish I was young, and could have one like that yaller. And I'd like to +have one like your lavender right now. My! You are lucky to have so many +nice clothes. It's a good thing most girls haven't got them, or they'd +stand primpin' all day tryin' to decide which one to put on. I don't see +how you tell yourself.” + +“I wear the one that best hides how pale I am,” answered the Girl. “I +use the colours now. When I grow plump and rosy, I'll wear the white.” + +Granny Moreland dropped on the couch and assured herself that it was +Martha's pink Peter Hartman. Then she examined the sunshine room. + +“Well I got to go back to the start,” she said at last. “This beats the +dinin'-room. This is the purtiest thing I ever saw. Oh I do hope they +ain't so run to white in Heaven as some folks seem to think! Used to be +scandalized if a-body took anythin' but a white flower to a funeral. Now +they tell me that when Jedge Stilton's youngest girl come from New York +to her pa's buryin' she fetched about a wash tub of blood-red roses. +Put them all over him, too! Said he loved red roses livin' and so he +was goin' to have them when he passed over. Now if they are lettin' up a +little on white on earth, mebby some of the stylish ones will carry the +fashion over yander. If Heaven is like this, I won't spend none of my +time frettin' about the foundations. I'll jest forget there is any, even +if we do always have to be so perticler to get them solid on earth. Talk +of gold harps! Can't you almost hear them? And listen to the birds and +that water! Say, you won't get lonesome here, will you?” + +“Indeed no!” answered the Girl. “Wouldn't you like to lie on my +beautiful couch that the Harvester made with his own hands, and I'll +spread Mother Langston's coverlet over you and let you look at all my +pretty things while I slip away a few minutes to something I'd like to +do?” + +“I'd love to!” said the old woman. “I never had a chance at such fine +things. David told me he was makin' your room all himself, and that he +was goin' to fill it chuck full of everythin' a girl ever used, and +I see he done it right an' proper. Away last March he told me he was +buildin' for you, an' I hankered so to have a woman here again, even +though I never s'posed she'd be sochiable like you, that I egged him +on jest all I could. I never would 'a' s'posed the boy could marry like +this----all by himself.” + +The Girl went to the ice chest to bring some of the fruit juice, chilled +berries, and to the pantry for bread and wafers to make a dainty little +lunch that she placed on the veranda table; and then she and Granny +Moreland talked, until the visitor said that she must go. The Girl went +with her to the little bridge crossing Singing Water on the north. There +the old lady took her hand. + +“Honey,” she said, “I'm goin' to tell you somethin'. I am so happy I can +purt near fly. Last night I was comin' down the pike over there chasin' +home a contrary old gander of mine, and I looked over on your land and +I see David settin' on a log with his head between his hands a lookin' +like grim death, if I ever see it. My heart plum stopped. Says I, 'she's +a failure! She's a bustin' the boy's heart! I'll go straight over and +tell her so.' I didn't dare bespeak him, but I was on nettles all night. +I jest laid a-studyin' and a-studyin', and I says, 'Come mornin' I'll +go straight and give her a curry-combin' that'll do her good.' And I +started a-feelin' pretty grim, and here you came to meet me, and +wiped it all out of my heart in a flash. It did look like the boy was +grievin'; but I know now he was jest thinkin' up what to put together +to take the ache out of some poor old carcass like mine. It never could +have been about you. Like a half blind old fool I thought the boy was +sufferin', and here he was only studyin'! Like as not he was thinkin' +what to do next to show you how he loves you. What an old silly I was! +I'll sleep like a log to-night to pay up for it. Good-bye, honey! You +better go back and lay down a spell. You do look mortal tired.” + +The Girl said good-bye and staggering a few steps sank on a log and sat +staring at the sky. + +“Oh he was suffering, and about me!” she gasped. A chill began to shake +her and feverish blood to race through her veins. “He does and gives +everything; I do and give nothing! Oh why didn't I stay at Uncle Henry's +until it ended? It wouldn't have been so bad as this. What will I do? Oh +what will I do? Oh mother, mother! if I'd only had the courage you did.” + +She arose and staggered up the hill, passed the cabin and went to the +oak. There she sank shivering to earth, and laid her face among the +mosses. The frightened Harvester found her at almost dusk when he came +from the city with the Dutch dishes, and helped a man launch a gay +little motor boat for her on the lake. + +“Why Ruth! Ruth-girl!” he exclaimed, kneeling beside her. + +She lifted a strained, distorted face. + +“Don't touch me! Don't come near me!” she cried. “It is not true that I +am better. I am not! I am worse! I never will be better. And before I go +I've got to tell you of the debt I owe; then you will hate me, and then +I will be glad! Glad, I tell you! Glad! When you despise me? then I can +go, and know that some day you will love a girl worthy of you. Oh I want +you to hate me I am fit for nothing else.” + +She fell forward sobbing wildly and the Harvester tried in vain to quiet +her. At last he said, “Well then tell me, Ruth. Remember I don't want to +hear what you have to say. I will believe nothing against you, not even +from your own lips, when you are feverish and excited as now, but if +it will quiet you, tell me and have it over. See, I will sit here and +listen, and when you have finished I'll pick you up and carry you to +your room, and I am not sure but I will kiss you over and over. What is +it you want to tell me, Ruth?” + +She sat up panting and pushed back the heavy coils of hair. + +“I've got to begin away at the beginning to make you see,” she said. +“The first thing I can remember is a small, such a small room, and +mother sewing and sometimes a man I called father. He was like Henry +Jameson made over tall and smooth, and more, oh, much more heartless! He +was gone long at a time, and always we had most to eat, and went oftener +to the parks, and were happiest with him away. When I was big enough to +understand, mother told me that she had met him and cared for him when +she was an inexperienced girl. She must have been very, very young, for +she was only a girl as I first remember her, and oh! so lovely, but +with the saddest face I ever saw. She said she had a good home and every +luxury, and her parents adored her; but they knew life and men, and they +would not allow him in their home, and so she left it with him, and he +married her and tried to force them to accept him, and they would not. +At first she bore it. Later she found him out, and appealed to them, +but they were away or would not forgive, and she was a proud thing, and +would not beg more after she had said she was wrong, and would they take +her back. + +“I grew up and we were girls together. We embroidered, and I drew, and +sometimes we had little treats and good times, and my father did not +come often, and we got along the best we could. Always it was worse +on her, because she was not so strong as I, and her heart was secretly +breaking for her mother, and she was afraid he would come back any +hour. She was tortured that she could not educate me more than to put +me through the high school. She wore herself out doing that, but she was +wild for me to be reared and trained right. So every day she crouched +over delicate laces and embroidery, and before and after school I +carried it and got more, and in vacation we worked together. But living +grew higher, and she became ill, and could not work, and I hadn't her +skill, and the drawings didn't bring much, and I'd no tools----” + +“Ruth, for mercy sake let me take you in my arms. If you've got to tell +this to find peace, let me hold you while you do it.” + +“Never again,” said the Girl. “You won't want to in a minute. You must +hear this, because I can't bear it any longer, and it isn't fair to let +you grieve and think me worth loving. Anyway, I couldn't earn what she +did, and I was afraid, for a great city is heartless to the poor. One +morning she fainted and couldn't get up. I can see the awful look in her +eyes now. She knew what was coming. I didn't. I tried to be brave and +to work. Oh it's no use to go on with that! It was just worse and worse. +She was lovely and delicate, she was my mother, and I adored her. Oh +Man! You won't judge harshly?” + +“No!” cried the Harvester, “I won't judge at all, Ruth. I see now. Get +it over if you must tell me.” + +“One day she had been dreadfully ill for a long time and there was no +food or work or money, and the last scrap was pawned, and she simply +would not let me notify the charities or tell me who or where her people +were. She said she had sinned against them and broken their hearts, +and probably they were dead, and I was desperate. I walked all day from +house to house where I had delivered work, but it was no use; no one +wanted anything I could do, and I went back frantic, and found her +gnawing her fingers and gibbering in delirium. She did not know me, and +for the first time she implored me for food. + +“Then I locked the door and went on the street and I asked a woman. She +laughed and said she'd report me and I'd be locked up for begging. +Then I saw a man I passed sometimes. I thought he lived close. I went +straight to him, and told him my mother was very ill, and asked him +to help her. He told me to go to the proper authorities. I told him I +didn't know who they were or where, and I had no money and she was a +woman of refinement, and never would forgive me. I offered, if he would +come to see her, get her some beef tea, and take care of her while she +lived, that afterward----” + +The Girl's frail form shook in a storm of sobs. At last she lifted her +eyes to the Harvester's. “There must be a God, and somewhere at the +last extremity He must come in. The man went with me, and he was a young +doctor who had an office a few blocks away, and he knew what to do. He +hadn't much himself, but for several weeks he divided and she was more +comfortable and not hungry when she went. When it was over I dressed +her the best I could in my graduation dress, and folded her hands, and +kissed her good-bye, and told him I was ready to fulfill my offer; and +oh Man!----He said he had forgotten!” + +“God!” panted the Harvester. + +“We couldn't bury her there. But I remembered my father had said he had +a brother in the country, and once he had been to see us when I was very +little, and the doctor telegraphed him, and he answered that his wife +was sick, and if I was able to work I could come, and he would bury her, +and give me a home. The doctor borrowed the money and bought the coffin +you found her in. He couldn't do better or he would, for he learned to +love her. He paid our fares and took us to the train. Before I started +I went on my knees to him and worshipped him as the Almighty, and I am +sure I told him that I always would be indebted to him, and any time he +required I would pay. The rest you know.” + +“Have you heard from him, Ruth?” + +“No.” + +“It WAS yourself the other day on the bridge?” + +“Yes.” + +“Did he love you?” + +“Not that I know of. No! Nobody but you would love a girl who appeared +as I did then.” + +The Harvester strove to keep a set face, but his lips drew back from his +teeth. + +“Ruth, do you love him?” + +“Love!” cried the Girl. “A pale, expressionless word! Adore would come +closer! I tell you she was delirious with hunger, and he fed her. She +was suffering horrors and he eased the pain. She was lifeless, and +he kept her poor tired body from the dissecting table. I would have +fulfilled my offer, and gone straight into the lake, but he spared me, +Man! He spared me! Worship is a good word. I think I worship him. I +tried to tell you. Before you got that license, I wanted you to know.” + +“I remember,” said the Harvester. “But no man could have guessed that a +girl with your face had agony like that in her heart, not even when he +read deep trouble there.” + +“I should have told you then! I should have forced you to hear! I was +wild with fear of Uncle Henry, and I had nowhere to go. Now you know! Go +away, and the end will come soon.” + +The Harvester arose and walked a few steps toward the lake, where he +paused stricken, but fighting for control. For him the light had gone +out. There was nothing beyond. The one passion of his life must live on, +satisfied with a touch from lips that loved another man. Broken sobbing +came to him. He did not even have time to suffer. Stumblingly he turned +and going to the Girl he picked her up, and sat on the bench holding her +closely. + +“Stop it, Ruth!” he said unsteadily. “Stop this! Why should you suffer +so? I simply will not have it. I will save you against yourself and the +world. You shall have all happiness yet; I swear it, my girl! You are +all right. He was a noble man, and he spared you because he loved you, +of course. I will make you well and rosy again, and then I will go and +find him, and arrange everything for you. I have spared you, too, and if +he doesn't want you to remain here with me, Mrs. Carey would be glad +to have you until I can free you. Judges are human. It will be a simple +matter. Hush, Ruth, listen to me! You shall be free! At once, if you +say so! You shall have him! I will go and bring him here, and I will go +away. Ruth, darling, stop crying and hear me. You will grow better, now +that you have told me. It is this secret that has made you feverish +and kept you ill. Ruth, you shall have happiness yet, if I have got to +circle the globe and scale the walls of Heaven to find it for you.” + +She struggled from his arms and ran toward the lake. When the Harvester +caught her, she screamed wildly, and struck him with her thin white +hands. He lifted and carried her to the laboratory, where he gave her a +few drops from a bottle and soon she became quiet. Then he took her to +the sunshine room, laid her on the bed, locked the screens and her door, +called Belshazzar to watch, and ran to the stable. A few minutes later +with distended nostrils and indignant heart Betsy, under the flail of an +unsparing lash, pounded down the hill toward Onabasha. + + + +CHAPTER XVII. LOVE INVADES SCIENCE + +The Harvester placed the key in the door and turned to Doctor Carey and +the nurse. + +“I drugged her into unconsciousness before I left, but she may have +returned, at least partially. Miss Barnet, will you kindly see if she +is ready for the doctor? You needn't be in the least afraid. She has no +strength, even in delirium.” + +He opened the door, his head averted, and the nurse hurried into the +room. The Girl on the bed was beginning to toss, moan, and mutter. +Skilful hands straightened her, arranged the covers, and the doctor was +called. In the living-room the Harvester paced in misery too deep for +consecutive thought. As consciousness returned, the Girl grew wilder, +and the nurse could not follow the doctor's directions and care for her. +Then Doctor Carey called the Harvester. He went in and sitting beside +the bed took the feverish, wildly beating hands in his strong, cool +ones, and began stroking them and talking. + +“Easy, honey,” he murmured softly. “Lie quietly while I tell you. You +mustn't tire yourself. You are wasting strength you need to fight the +fever. I'll hold your hands tight, I'll stroke your head for you. Lie +quietly, dear, and Doctor Carey and his head nurse are going to make you +well in a little while. That's right! Let me do the moving; you lie and +rest. Only rest and rest, until all the pain is gone, and the strong +days come, and they are going to bring great joy, love, and peace, to my +dear, dear girl. Even the moans take strength. Try just to lie quietly +and rest. You can't hear Singing Water if you don't listen, Ruth.” + +“She doesn't realize that it is you or know what you say, David,” said +Doctor Carey gently. + +“I understand,” said the Harvester. “But if you will observe, you will +see that she is quiet when I stroke her head and hands, and if you +notice closely you will grant that she gets a word occasionally. If it +is the right one, it helps. She knows my voice and touch, and she is +less nervous and afraid with me. Watch a minute!” + +The Harvester took both of the Girl's fluttering hands in one of his +and with long, light strokes gently brushed them, and then her head, and +face, and then her hands again, and in a low, monotonous, half sing-song +voice he crooned, “Rest, Ruth, rest! It is night now. The moon is +bridging Loon Lake, and the whip-poor-will is crying. Listen, dear, +don't you hear him crying? Still, Girl, still! Just as quiet! Lie so +quietly. The whip-poor-will is going to tell his mate he loves her, +loves her so dearly. He is going to tell her, when you listen. That's a +dear girl. Now he is beginning. He says, 'Come over the lake and listen +to the song I'm singing to you, my mate, my mate, my dear, dear mate,' +and the big night moths are flying; and the katydids are crying, +positive and sure they are crying, a thing that's past denying. Hear +them crying? And the ducks are cheeping, soft little murmurs while +they're sleeping, sleeping. Resting, softly resting! Gently, Girl, +gently! Down the hill comes Singing Water, laughing, laughing! Don't you +hear it laughing? Listen to the big owl courting; it sees the coon out +hunting, it hears the mink softly slipping, slipping, where the dews of +night are dripping. And the little birds are sleeping, so still they +are sleeping. Girls should be a-sleeping, like the birds a-sleeping, +for to-morrow joy comes creeping, joy and life and love come creeping, +creeping to my Girl. Gently, gently, that's a dear girl, gently! Tired +hands rest easy, tired head lies still! That's the way to rest----” + +On and on the even voice kept up the story. All over and around the +lake, the length of Singing Water, the marsh folk found voices to tell +of their lives, where it was a story of joy, rest, and love. Up the hill +ranged the Harvester, through the forest where the squirrels slept, the +owl hunted, the fire-flies flickered, the fairies squeezed flower leaves +to make colour to paint the autumn foliage, and danced on toadstool +platforms. Just so long as his voice murmured and his touch continued, +so long the Girl lay quietly, and the medicines could act. But no other +touch would serve, and no other voice would answer. If the harvester +left the room five minutes to show the nurse how to light the fire, and +where to find things, he returned to tossing, restless delirium. + +“It's magic David,” said Doctor Carey. “Magic!” + +“It is love,” said the Harvester. “Even crazed with fever, she +recognizes its voice and touch. You've got your work cut out, Doc. Roll +your sleeves and collect your wits. Set your heart on winning. There is +one thing shall not happen. Get that straight in your mind, right +now. And you too, Miss Barnet! There is nothing like fighting for a +certainty. You may think the Girl is desperately ill, and she is, but +make up your minds that you are here to fight for her life, and to save +it. Save, do you understand? If she is to go, I don't need either of +you. I can let her do that myself. You are here on a mission of life. +Keep it before you! Life and health for this Girl is the prize you are +going to win. Dig into it, and I'll pay the bills, and extra besides. If +money is any incentive, I'll give you all I've got for life and health +for the Girl. Are you doing all you know?” + +“I certainly am, David.” + +“But when day comes you'll have to go back to the hospital and we may +not know how to meet crises that will arise. What then? We should have a +competent physician in the house until this fever breaks.” + +“I had thought of that, David. I will arrange to send one of the men +from the hospital who will be able to watch symptoms and come for me +when needed.” + +“Won't do!” said the Harvester calmly. “She has no strength for waiting. +You are to come when you can, and remain as long as possible. The case +is yours; your decisions go, but I will select your assistant. I know +the man I want.” + +“Who is he, David?” + +“I'll tell you when I learn whether I can get him. Now I want you to +give the Girl the strongest sedative you dare, take off your coat, roll +your sleeves, and see how well you can imitate my voice, and how much +you have profited by listening to my song. In other words, before day +calls, I want you to take my place so successfully that you deceive her, +and give me time to make a trip to town. There are a few things that +must be done, and I think I can work faster in the night. Will you?” + +Doctor Carey bent over the bed. Gently he slipped a practised hand under +the Harvester's and made the next stroke down the white arm. Gradually +he took possession of the thin hands and his touch fell on the masses of +dark hair. As the Harvester arose the doctor took the seat. + +“You go on!” he ordered gruffly. “I'll do better alone.” + +The Harvester stepped back. The doctor's touch was easy and the Girl lay +quietly for an instant, then she moved restlessly. + +“You must be still now,” he said gently. “The moon is up, the lake is +all white, and the birds are flying all around. Lie still or you'll make +yourself worse. Stiller than that! If you don't you can't hear things +courting. The ducks are quacking, the bull frogs are croaking, and +everything. Lie still, still, I tell you!” + +“Oh good Lord, Doc!” groaned the Harvester in desperation. + +The Girl wrenched her hands free and her head rolled on the pillow. + +“Harvester! Harvester!” she cried. + +The doctor started to arise. + +“Sit still!” commanded the Harvester. “Take her hands and go to work, +idiot! Give her more sedative, and tell her I'm coming. That's the word, +if she realizes enough to call for me.” + +The doctor possessed himself of the flying hands, and gently held and +stroked them. + +“The Harvester is coming,” he said. “Wait just a minute, he's on the +way. He is coming. I think I hear him. He will be here soon, very soon +now. That's a good girl! Lie still for David. He won't like it if you +toss and moan. Just as still, lie still so I can listen. I can't tell +whether he is coming until you are quiet.” + +Then he said to the Harvester, “You see, I've got it now. I can manage +her, but for pity sake, hurry man! Take the car! Jim is asleep on the +back seat----Yes, yes, Girl! I'm listening for him. I think I hear him! +I think he's coming!” + +Here and there a word penetrated, and she lay more quietly, but not in +the rest to which the Harvester had lulled her. + +“Hurry man!” groaned the doctor in a whispered aside, and the Harvester +ran to the car, awakened the driver and told him he had a clear road to +Onabasha, to speed up. + +“Where to?” asked the driver. + +“Dickson, of the First National.” + +In a few minutes the car stopped before the residence and the Harvester +made an attack on the front door. Presently the man came. + +“Excuse me for routing you out at this time of night,” said the +Harvester, “but it's a case of necessity. I have an automobile here. +I want you to go to the bank with me, and get me an address from your +draft records. I know the rules, but I want the name of my wife's +Chicago physician. She is delirious, and I must telephone him.” + +The cashier stepped out and closed the door. + +“Nine chances out of ten it will be in the vault,” he said. + +“That leaves one that it won't,” answered the Harvester. “Sometimes I've +looked in when passing in the night, and I've noticed that the books are +not always put away. I could see some on the rack to-night. I think it +is there.” + +It was there, and the Harvester ordered the driver to hurry him to the +telephone exchange, then take the cashier home and return and wait. He +called the Chicago Information office. + +“I want Dr. Frank Harmon, whose office address is 1509 Columbia Street. +I don't know the 'phone number.” + +Then came a long wait, and after twenty minutes the blessed buzzing +whisper, “Here's your party.” + +“Doctor Harmon?” + +“Yes.” + +“You remember Ruth Jameson, the daughter of a recent patient of yours?” + +“I do.” + +“Well my name is Langston. The Girl is in my home and care. She is very +ill with fever, and she has much confidence in you. This is Onabasha, +on the Grand Rapids and Indiana. You take the Pennsylvania at seven +o'clock, telegraph ahead that you are coming so that they will make +connection for you, change at twelve-twenty at Fort Wayne, and I will +meet you here. You will find your ticket and a check waiting you at the +Chicago depot. Arrange to remain a week at least. You will be paid all +expenses and regular prices for your time. Will you come?” + +“Yes.” + +“All right. Make no failure. Good-bye.” + +Then the Harvester left an order with the telephone company to run a +wire to Medicine Woods the first thing in the morning, and drove to the +depot to arrange for the ticket and check. In less than an hour he was +holding the Girl's hands and crooning over her. + +“Jerusalem!” said Doctor Carey, rising stiffly. “I'd rather undertake +to cut off your head and put it back on than to tackle another job like +that. She's quite delirious, but she has flashes, and at such times she +knows whom she wants; the rest of the time it's a jumble and some of it +is rather gruesome. She's seen dreadful illness, hunger, and there's a +debt she's wild about. I told you something was back of this. You've got +to find out and set her mind at ease.” + +“I know all about it,” said the Harvester patiently between crooning +sentences to the Girl. “But the crash came before I could convince her +that it was all right and I could fix everything for her easily. If she +only could understand me!” + +“Did you find your man?” + +“Yes. He will be here this afternoon.” + +“Quick work!” + +“This takes quick work.” + +“Do you know anything about him?” + +“Yes. He is a young fellow, just starting out. He is a fine, straight, +manly man. I don't know how much he knows, but it will be enough to +recognize your ability and standing, and to do what you tell him. I have +perfect confidence in him. I want you to come back at one, and take my +place until I go to meet him.” + +“I can bring him out.” + +“I have to see him myself. There are a few words to be said before he +sees the Girl.” + +“David, what are you up to?” + +“Being as honourable as I can. No man gets any too decent, but there is +no law against doing as you would be done by, and being as straight as +you know how. When I've talked to him, I'll know where I am and I'll +have something to say to you.” + +“David, I'm afraid----” + +“Then what do you suppose I am?” said the Harvester. “It's no use, Doc. +Be still and take what comes! The manner in which you meet a crisis +proves you a whining cur or a man. I have got lots of respect for a dog, +as a dog; but I've none for a man as a dog. If you've gathered from the +Girl's delirium that I've made a mistake, I hope you have confidence +enough in me to believe I'll right it, and take my punishment without +whining. Go away, you make her worse. Easy, Girl, the world is all right +and every one is sleeping now, so you should be at rest. With the day +the doctor will come, the good doctor you know and like, Ruth. You +haven't forgotten your doctor, Ruth? The kind doctor who cared for you. +He will make you well, Ruth; well and oh, so happy! Harmon, Harmon, +Doctor Harmon is coming to you, Girl, and then you will be so happy!” + +“Why you blame idiot!” cried Doctor Carey in a harsh whisper. “Have you +lost all the sense you ever had? Stop that gibber! She wants to hear +about the birds and Singing Water. Go on with that woods line of talk; +she likes that away the best. This stuff is making her restless. See!” + +“You mean you are,” said the Harvester wearily. “Please leave us alone. +I know the words that will bring comfort. You don't.” + +He began the story all over again, but now there ran through it a +continual refrain. “Your doctor is coming, the good doctor you know. He +will make you well and strong, and he will make life so lovely for you.” + +He was talking without pause or rest when Doctor Carey returned in the +afternoon to take his place. He brought Mrs. Carey with him, and she +tried a woman's powers of soothing another woman, and almost drove the +Girl to fighting frenzy. So the doctor made another attempt, and the +Harvester raced down the hill to the city. He went to the car shed as +the train pulled in, and stood at one side while the people hurried +through the gate. He was watching for a young man with a travelling bag +and perhaps a physician's satchel, who would be looking for some one. + +“I think I'll know him,” muttered the Harvester grimly. “I think the +masculine element in me will pop up strongly and instinctively at the +sight of this man who will take my Dream Girl from me. Oh good God! Are +You sure You ARE good?” + +In his brown khaki trousers and shirt, his head bare, his bronze face +limned with agony he made no attempt to conceal, the Harvester, with +feet planted firmly, and tightly folded arms, his head tipped slightly +to one side, braced himself as he sent his keen gray eyes searching the +crowd. Far away he selected his man. He was young, strong, criminally +handsome, clean and alert; there was discernible anxiety on his face, +and it touched the Harvester's soul that he was coming just as swiftly +as he could force his way. As he passed the gates the Harvester reached +his side. + +“Doctor Harmon, I think,” he said. + +“Yes.” + +“This way! If you have luggage, I will send for it later.” + +The Harvester hurried to the car. + +“Take the shortest cut and cover space,” he said to the driver. The car +kept to the speed limit until toward the suburbs. + +Doctor Harmon removed his hat, ran his fingers through dark waving hair +and yielded his body to the swing of the car. Neither man attempted to +talk. Once the Harvester leaned forward and told the driver to stop +on the bridge, and then sat silently. As the car slowed down, they +alighted. + +“Drive on and tell Doc we are here, and will be up soon,” said the +Harvester. Then he turned to the stranger. “Doctor Harmon, there's +little time for words. This is my place, and here I grow herbs for +medicinal houses.” + +“I have heard of you, and heard your stuff recommended,” said the +doctor. + +“Good!” exclaimed the Harvester. “That saves time. I stopped here to +make a required explanation to you. The day you sent Ruth Jameson to +Onabasha, I saw her leave the train and recognized in her my ideal +woman. I lost her in the crowd and it took some time to locate her. +I found her about a month ago. She was miserable. If you saw what her +father did to her and her mother in Chicago, you should have seen what +his brother was doing here. The end came one day in my presence, when I +paid her for ginseng she had found to settle her debt to you. He robbed +her by force. I took the money from him, and he threatened her. She was +ill then from heat, overwork, wrong food----every misery you can imagine +heaped upon the dreadful conditions in which she came. It had been my +intention to court and marry her if I possibly could. That day she had +nowhere to go; she was wild with fear; the fever that is scorching her +now was in her veins then. I did an insane thing. I begged her to marry +me at once and come here for rest and protection. I swore that if she +would, she should not be my wife, but my honoured guest, until she +learned to love me and released me from my vow. She tried to tell +me something; I had no idea it was anything that would make any real +difference, and I wouldn't listen. Last night, when the fever was +beginning to do its worst, she told me of your entrance into her life +and what it meant to her. Then I saw that I had made a mistake. You were +her choice, the man she could love, not me, so I took the liberty of +sending for you. I want you to cure her, court her, marry her, and make +her happy. God knows she has had her share of suffering. You recognize +her as a girl of refinement?” + +“I do.” + +“You grant that in health she would be lovelier than most women, do you +not?” + +“She was more beautiful than most in sickness and distress.” + +“Good!” cried the Harvester. “She has been here two weeks. I give you my +word, my promise to her has been kept faithfully. As soon as I can leave +her to attend to it, she shall have her freedom. That will be easy. Will +you marry her?” + +The doctor hesitated. + +“What is it?” asked the Harvester. + +“Well to be frank,” said Doctor Harmon, “it is money! I'm only getting a +start. I borrowed funds for my schooling and what I used for her. She is +in every way attractive enough to be desired by any man, but how am I to +provide a home and support her and pay these debts? I'll try it, but I +am afraid it will be taking her back to wrong conditions again.” + +“If you knew that she owned a comfortable cottage in the suburbs, where +it is cool and clean, and had, say a hundred a month of her own for the +coming three years, could you see your way?” + +“That would make all the difference in the world. I thought seriously of +writing her. I wanted to, but I concluded I'd better work as hard as I +could for some practice first, and see if I could make a living for +two, before I tried to start anything. I had no idea she would not be +comfortably cared for at her uncle's.” + +“I see,” said the Harvester. “If I had kept out, life would have come +right for her.” + +“On the contrary,” said the doctor, “it appears very probable that she +would not be living.” + +“It is understood between us, then, that you will court and marry her so +soon as she is strong enough?” + +“It is understood,” agreed the doctor. + +“Will you honour me by taking my hand?” asked the Harvester. “I scarcely +had hoped to find so much of a man. Now come to your room and get ready +for the stiffest piece of work you ever attempted.” + +The Harvester led the way to the guest chamber over looking the lake, +and installed its first occupant. Then he hurried to the Girl. The +doctor was holding her head and one hand, his wife the other, and the +nurse her feet. It took the Harvester ten strenuous minutes to make his +touch and presence known and to work quiet. All over he began crooning +his story of rest, joy, and love. He broke off with a few words to +introduce Doctor Harmon to the Careys and the nurse, and then calmly +continued while the other men stood and watched him. + +“Seems rather cut out for it,” commented Doctor Harmon. + +“I never yet have seen him attempt anything that he didn't appear cut +out for,” answered Doctor Carey. + +“Will she know me?” inquired the young man, approaching the bed. + +When the Girl's eyes fell on him she grew rigid and lay staring at him. +Suddenly with a wild cry she struggled to rise. + +“You have come!” she cried. “Oh I knew you would come! I felt you would +come! I cannot pay you now! Oh why didn't you come sooner?” + +The young doctor leaned over and took one of the white hands from the +Harvester, stroking it gently. + +“Why you did pay, Ruth! How did you come to forget? Don't you remember +the draft you sent me? I didn't come for money; I came to visit you, to +nurse you, to do all I can to make you well. I am going to take care of +you now so finely you'll be out on the lake and among the flowers soon. +I've got some medicine that makes every one well. It's going to make you +strong, and there's something else that's going to make you happy; and +me, I'm going to be the proudest man alive.” + +He reached over and took possession of the other hand, stroking them +softly, and the Girl lay tensely staring at him and gradually yielding +to his touch and voice. The Harvester arose, and passing around the bed, +he placed a chair for Doctor Harmon and motioning for Doctor Carey left +the room. He went to the shore to his swimming pool, wearily dropped on +the bench, and stared across the water. + +“Well thank God it worked, anyway!” he muttered. + +“What's that popinjay doing here?” thundered Doctor Carey. “Got some +medicine that cures everybody. Going to make her well, is he? Make the +cows, and the ducks, and the chickens, and the shitepokes well, and +happy----no name for it! After this we are all going to be well and +happy! You look it right now, David! What under Heaven have you done?” + +“Left my wife with the man she loves, and to whom I release her, my dear +friend,” said the Harvester. “And it's so easy for me that you needn't +give making it a little harder, any thought.” + +“David, forgive me!” cried Doctor Carey. “I don't understand this. I'm +almost insane. Will you tell me what it means?” + +“Means that I took advantage of the Girl's illness, utter loneliness, +and fear, and forced her into marrying me for shelter and care, when she +loved and wanted another man, who was preparing to come to her. He is +her Chicago doctor, and fine in every fibre, as you can see. There is +only one thing on earth for me to do, and that is to get out of their +way, and I'll do it as soon as she is well; but I vow I won't leave her +poor, tired body until she is, not even for him. I thought sure I could +teach her to love me! Oh but this is bitter, Doc!” + +“You are a consummate fool to bring him here!” cried Doctor Carey. “If +she is too sick to realize the situation now, she will be different when +she is normal again. Any sane girl that wouldn't love you, David, ain't +fit for anything!” + +“Yes, I'm a whale of a lover!” said the Harvester grimly. “Nice mess +I've made of it. But there is no real harm done. Thank God, Harmon was +not the only white man.” + +“David, what do you mean?” + +“Is it between us, Doc?” + +“Yes.” + +“For all time?” + +“It is.” + +The Harvester told him. He ended, “Give the fellow his dues, Doc. He had +her at his mercy, utterly alone and unprotected, in a big city. There +was not a living soul to hold him to account. He added to his burdens, +borrowed more money, and sent her here. He thought she was coming to +the country where she would be safe and well cared for until he could +support her. I did the remainder. Now I must undo it, that's all! But +you have got to go in there and practise with him. You've got to show +him every courtesy of the profession. You must go a little over the +rules, and teach him all you can. You will have to stifle your feelings, +and be as much of a man as it is in you to be, at your level best.” + +“I'm no good at stifling my feelings!” + +“Then you'll have to learn,” said the Harvester. “If you'd lived through +my years of repression in the woods you'd do the fellow credit. As I see +it, his side of this is nearly as fine as you make it. I tell you she +was utterly stricken, alone, and beautiful. She sought his assistance. +When the end came he thought only of her. Won't you give a young fellow +in a place like Chicago some credit for that? Can't you get through you +what it means?” + +Doctor Carey stood frowning in deep thought, but the lines of his face +gradually changed. + +“I suppose I've got to stomach him,” he said. + +The nurse came down the gravel path. + +“Mr. Langston, Doctor Harmon asked me to call you,” she said. + +The Harvester arose and went to the sunshine room. + +“What does he want, Molly?” asked the doctor. + +“Wants to turn over his job,” chuckled the nurse. “He held it about +seven minutes in peace, and then she began to fret and call for the +Harvester. He just sweat blood to pacify her, but he couldn't make it. +He tried to hold her, to make love to her, and goodness knows what, but +she struggled and cried, 'David,' until he had to give it up and send +me.” + +“Molly,” said Doctor Carey, “we've known the Harvester a long time, and +he is our friend, isn't he?” + +“Of course!” said the nurse. + +“We know this is the first woman he ever loved, probably ever will, as +he is made. Now we don't like this stranger butting in here; we resent +it, Molly. We are on the side of our friend, and we want him to win. +I'll grant that this fellow is fine, and that he has done well, but +what's the use in tearing up arrangements already made? And so suitable! +Now Molly, you are my best nurse, and a good reliable aid in times like +this. I gave you instructions an hour ago. I'll add this to them. YOU +ARE ON THE HARVESTER'S SIDE. Do you understand? In this, and the days to +come, you'll have a thousand chances to put in a lick with a sick woman. +Put them in as I tell you.” + +“Yes, Doctor Carey.” + +“And Molly! You are something besides my best nurse. You're a smashing +pretty girl, and your occupation should make you especially attractive +to a young doctor. I'm sure this fellow is all right, so while you are +doing your best with your patient for the Harvester, why not have a +try for yourself with the doctor? It couldn't do any harm, and it might +straighten out matters. Anyway, you think it over.” + +The nurse studied his face silently for a time, and then she began to +laugh softly. + +“He is up there doing his best with her,” she said. + +The doctor threw out his hands in a gesture of disdain, and the nurse +laughed again; but her cheeks were pink and her eyes flashing as she +returned to duty. + +“Random shot, but it might hit something, you never can tell,” commented +the doctor. + +The Harvester entered the Girl's room and stood still. She was fretting +and raising her temperature rapidly. Before he reached the door his +heart gave one great leap at the sound of her voice calling his name. He +knew what to do, but he hesitated. + +“She seems to have become accustomed to you, and at times does not +remember me,” said Doctor Harmon. “I think you had better take her again +until she grows quiet.” + +The Harvester stepped to the bed and looked the doctor in the eye. + +“I am afraid I left out one important feature in our little talk on the +bridge,” he said. “I neglected to tell you that in your fight for this +woman's life and love you have a rival. I am he. She is my wife, and +with the last fibre of my being I adore her. If you win, and she wants +you to take her away, I will help you; but my heart goes with her +forever. If by any chance it should occur that I have been mistaken or +misinterpreted her delirium or that she has been deceived and finds +she prefers me and Medicine Woods, to you and Chicago, when she has had +opportunity to measure us man against man, you must understand that +I claim her. So I say to you frankly, take her if you can, but don't +imagine that I am passive. I'll help you if I know she wants you, but I +fight you every inch of the way. Only it has got to be square and open. +Do you understand?” + +“You are certainly sufficiently clear.” + +“No man who is half a man sees the last chance of happiness go out of +his life without putting up the stiffest battle he knows,” said the +Harvester grimly. “Ruth-girl, you are raising the fever again. You must +be quiet.” + +With infinite tenderness he possessed himself of her hands and began +stroking her hair, and in a low and soothing voice the story of the +birds, flowers, lake, and woods went on. To keep it from growing +monotonous the Harvester branched out and put in everything he knew. +In the days that followed he held a position none could take from him. +While the doctors fought the fever, he worked for rest and quiet, and +soothed the tortured body as best he could, that the medicines might +act. + +But the fever was stubborn, and the remedies were slow; and long before +the dreaded coming day the doctors and nurse were quietly saying to +each other that when the crisis came the heart would fail. There was no +vitality to sustain life. But they did not dare tell the Harvester. +Day and night he sat beside the maple bed or stretched sleeping a +few minutes on the couch while the Girl slept; and with faith never +faltering and courage unequalled, he warned them to have their remedies +and appliances ready. + +“I don't say it's going to be easy,” he said. “I just merely state that +it must be done. And I'll also mention that, when the hour comes, the +man who discovers that he could do something if he had digitalis, or a +remedy he should have had ready and has forgotten, that man had better +keep out of my sight. Make your preparations now. Talk the case over. +Fill your hypodermics. Clean your air pumps. Get your hot-water bottles +ready. Have system. Label your stuff large and set it conveniently. You +see what is coming, be prepared!” + +One day, while the Girl lay in a half-drugged, feverish sleep, the +Harvester went for a swim. He dressed a little sooner than was expected +and in crossing the living-room he heard Doctor Harmon say to Doctor +Carey on the veranda, “What are we going to do with him when the end +comes?” + +The Harvester stepped to the door. “That won't be the question,” he said +grimly. “It will be what will HE do with us?” + +Then, with an almost imperceptible movement, he caught Doctor Harmon at +the waist line, and lifted and dangled him as a baby, and then stood +him on the floor. “Didn't hardly expect that much muscle, did you?” he +inquired lightly. “And I'm not in what you could call condition, either. +Instead of wasting any time on fool questions like that, you two go over +your stuff and ask each other, have we got every last appliance known +to physics and surgery? Have we got duplicates on hand in case we break +delicate instruments like hypodermic syringes and that sort of thing? +Engage yourselves with questions pertaining to life; that is your +business. Instead of planning what you'll do in failure, bolster your +souls against it. Granny Moreland beats you two put together in grip and +courage.” + +The Harvester returned to his task, and the fight went on. At last the +hour came when the temperature fell lower and lower. The feeble pulses +flickered and grew indiscernible; a gray pallor hovered over the Girl, +and a cold sweat stood on her temples. + +“Now!” said the Harvester. “Exercise your calling! Fight like men or +devils, but win you must.” + +They did work. They administered stimulants; applied heat to the chilled +body; fans swept the room with vitalized air; hypodermics were used; and +every last resort known to science was given a full test, and the weak +heart throbbed slower and slower, and life ran out with each breath. The +Harvester stood waiting with set jaws. He could detect no change for the +better. At last he picked up a chilled hand and could discover no +pulse, and the gray nails and the dark tips told a story of arrested +circulation. He laid down the hand and faced the men. + +“This is what you'd call the crisis, Doc?” he asked gently. + +“Yes.” + +“Are you stemming it? Are you stemming it? Are you sure she is holding +her own?” + +Doctor Carey looked at him silently. + +“Have you done all you can do?” asked the Harvester. + +“Yes.” + +“You believe her going out?” + +“Yes.” + +The Harvester turned to Doctor Harmon. “Do you concur in that?” + +“Yes.” + +Then to the nurse, “And you?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then,” said the Harvester, “all of you are useless. Get out of here. I +don't want your atmosphere. If you can believe only in death, leave us! +She is my wife, and if this is the end she belongs to me, and I will do +as I choose with her. All of you go!” + +The Harvester stepped to the bathroom door and called Granny Moreland. +“Granny,” he said, “science has turned tail, and left me in extremity. +Fill your hot-water bottles and come in here with your heart big with +hope and help me save my Dream Girl. She is breathing Granny; we've got +to make her keep it up, that's all----just keep her breathing.” + +He returned to the sunshine room, placed a small table beside the bed, +and on it a glass of water, spoon, and a hypodermic syringe. When Granny +Moreland came he said: “Now you begin on her feet and rub with long, +sweeping, upward strokes to drive the blood to her heart.” + +Around the Girl he piled hot-water bottles and breathlessly hung over +her, rubbing her hands. He wiped the perspiration from her forehead, and +then dropped by her bed and for a second laid his face on her cold palm. + +“If I am wrong, Heaven forgive me,” he prayed. “And you, oh, my darling +Dream Girl, forgive me, but I am forced to try----God helping me! Amen.” + +He arose, took a small bottle from his pocket, filled the spoon with +water, and measured into it three drops of liquid as yellow as gold. +Then he held the spoon to the blue lips, and with his fingers worked +apart the set teeth, and poured the medicine down her throat. Then they +rubbed and muttered snatches of prayer for fifteen minutes when the +Harvester administered another three drops. It might have been fancy, +but it seemed to him her jaws were not so stiff. Faster flew his hands +and he sent Granny Moreland to refill the hot bottles. When he gave the +Girl the third dose he injected some of the liquid over her heart and of +the glycerine the doctors had left, in the extremities. He released more +air and began rubbing again. + +The second hour started in the same way, and ended with slowly relaxing +muscles and faint tinges of colour in the white cheeks. The feet were +not so cold, and when the Harvester held the spoon he knew that the +Girl made an effort to swallow, and he could see her eyelids tremble. +Thereupon he pointed these signs to Granny, and implored her to rub and +pray, and pray and rub, while he worked until the perspiration rolled +down his gray face. At the end of the second hour he began decreasing +the doses and shortening the time, and again he commenced in a +low rumble his song of life and health, to encourage the Girl as +consciousness returned. + +Occasionally Doctor Carey opened the door slightly and peeped in to see +if he were wanted, but he received no invitation to enter. The last +time he left with the impression that the Harvester was raving, while +he worked over a lifeless body. He had the Girl warmly covered and bent +over her face and hands. At her feet crouched Granny Moreland, rubbing, +still rubbing, beneath the covers, while in a steady stream the +Harvester was pouring out his song. If he had listened an instant longer +he would have recognized that the tone and the words had changed. Now it +was, “Gently, breathe gently, Girl! Slowly, steadily, easily! Deeper, a +little deeper, Ruth! Brave Girl, never another so wonderful! That's my +Dream Girl coming from the shadows, coming to life's sunshine, coming to +hope, coming to love! Deeper, just a little deeper! Smoothly and evenly! +You are making it, Girl! You are making it! By all that is holy and +glorious! Stick to it, Ruth, hold tight to me! I'll help you, dear! You +are coming, coming back to life and love. Don't worry yourself trying +too hard, if only you can send every breath as deeply as the last one, +you can make it. You brave girl! You wonderful Dream Girl! Ah, Ruth, the +name of this is victory!” + +An hour before Doctor Carey had said to Doctor Harmon and the nurse, +as he softly closed the door: “It is over and the Harvester is raving. +We'll give him a little more time and see if he won't realize it +himself. That will be easier for him than for us to try to tell him.” + +Now he opened the door, stared a second, and coming to the opposite side +of the bed, he leaned over the Girl. Then he felt her feet. They were +warm and slightly damp. A surprised look crept over his face. He gently +reached for a hand that the Harvester yielded to him. It was warm, +the blue tips becoming rosy, the wrist pulse discernible. Then he bent +closer, touched her face, and saw the tremulous eyelids. He turned back +the cover, and held his ear over her heart. When he straightened, “As +God lives, she's got a chance, David!” he exulted in an awed whisper. + +The Harvester lifted a graven face, down which the sweat of agony +rolled, and his lips parted in a twitching smile. “Then this is where +love beats the doctors, Carey!” he said. + +“It is where love has ventured what science dares not. Love didn't do +all of this. In the name of the Almighty, what did you give her, David?” + +“Life!” cried the Harvester. “Life! Come on, Ruth, come on! Out of the +valley come to me! You are well now, Girl! It's all over! The last trace +of fever is gone, the last of the dull ache. Can you swallow just two +more drops of bottled sunshine, Ruth?” + +The flickering lids slowly opened, and the big black eyes looked +straight into the Harvester's. He met them steadily, smiling +encouragement. + +“Hang on to each breath, dear heart!” he urged. “The fever is gone. The +pain is over! Long life and the love you crave are for you. You've only +to keep breathing a few more hours and the battle is yours. Glorious +Girl! Noble! You are doing finely! Ruth, do you know me?” + +Her lips moved. + +“Don't try to speak,” said the Harvester. “Don't waste breath on a word. +Save the good oxygen to strengthen your tired body. But if you do know +me, maybe you could smile, Ruth!” + +She could just smile, and that was all. Feeble, flickering, transient, +but as it crossed the living face the Harvester lifted her hands and +kissed them over and over, back, palm, and finger tips. + +“Now just one more drop, honey, and then a long rest. Will you try it +again for me?” + +She assented, and the Harvester took the bottle from his pocket, poured +the drop, and held the spoon to willing lips. The big eyes were on him +with a question. Then they fell to the spoon. The Harvester understood. + +“Yes, it's mine! It's got sixty years of wonderful life in it, every one +of them full of love and happiness for my dear Dream Girl. Can you take +it, Ruth?” + +Her lips parted, the wine of life passed between. She smiled faintly, +and her eyelids dropped shut, but presently they opened again. + +“David!” + +“My Dream Girl!” + +“Harvester?” + +“Yes!” + +“Medicine Man?” + +“Don't, Ruth! Save every breath to help your heart.” + +“Life?” + +“Life it is, Girl!” exulted the Harvester. “Long life! Love! Home! The +man you love! Every happiness that ever came to a girl! Nothing shall be +denied you! Nothing shall be lacking! It's all in your hands now, Ruth. +We've all done everything we can; you must do the remainder. It's your +work to send every breath as deeply as you can. Doc, release another +tank of air. Are her feet warm, Granny? Let the nurse take your place +now. And, honey, go to sleep! I'll keep watch for you. I'll measure +each breath you draw. If they shorten or weaken, I'll wake you for more +medicine. You can trust me! Always you can trust me, Ruth.” + +The Girl smiled and fell into a light, even slumber. Granny Moreland +stumbled to the couch and rolled on it sobbing with nervous exhaustion. +Doctor Carey called the nurse to take her place. Then he came to the +Harvester's side and whispered, “Let me, David!” + +The Harvester looked up with his queer grin, but he made no motion to +arise. + +“Won't you trust me, David? I'll watch as if it were my own wife.” + +“I wouldn't trust any man on earth, for the coming three hours,” replied +the Harvester. “If I keep this up that long, she is safe. Go and rest +until I call you.” + +He again bent over the Girl, one hand on her left wrist, the other over +her heart, his eyes on her lips, watching the depth and strength of her +every breath. Regularly he administered the medicine he was giving her. +Sometimes she took it half asleep; again she gave him a smile that to +the Harvester was the supreme thing of earth or Heaven. Toward the end +of the long vigil, in exhaustion he slipped to the floor, and laid his +head on the side of the bed, and for a second his hand relaxed and he +fell asleep. The Girl awakened as his touch loosened and looking down +she saw his huddled body. A second later the Harvester awoke with a +guilty start to find her fingers twisted in the shock of hair on the top +of his head. + +“Poor stranded Girl,” he muttered. “She's clinging to me for life, and +you can stake all you are worth she's going to get it!” + +Then he gently relaxed her grip, gave her the last dose he felt +necessary, yielded his place to Doctor Carey and staggered up the hill. +As the sun peeped over Medicine Woods he stretched himself between the +two mounds under the oak, and for a few minutes his body was rent with +the awful, torn sobbing of a strong man. Belshazzar nosed the twisting +figure and whined pitifully. A chattering little marsh wren tilted on a +bush and scolded. A blue jay perched above and tried to decide whether +there was cause for an alarm signal. A snake coming from the water to +hunt birds ran close to him, and changing its course, went weaving away +among the mosses. Gradually the pent forces spent themselves, and for +hours the Harvester lay in the deep sleep of exhaustion, and stretched +beside him, Belshazzar guarded with anxious dog eyes. + + + +CHAPTER XVIII. THE BETTER MAN + +In the middle of the afternoon the Harvester arose and went into the +lake, ate a hearty dinner, and then took up his watch again. For two +days and nights he kept his place, until he had the Girl out of danger, +and where careful nursing was all that was required to insure life +and health. As he sat beside her the last day, his physical endurance +strained to the breaking point, she laid her hand over his, and looked +long and steadily into his eyes. + +“There are so many things I want to know,” she said. + +The Harvester's firm fingers closed over hers. “Ruth, have you ever been +sorry that you trusted me?” + +“Never!” said the Girl instantly. + +“Then suppose you keep it up,” said he. “Whatever it is that you want +to know, don't use an iota of strength to talk or to think about it now. +Just say to yourself, he loves me well enough to do what is right, and +I know that he will. All you have to do is to be patient until you grow +stronger than you ever have been in your life, and then you shall have +exactly what you want, Ruth. Sleep like a baby for a week or two. Then, +slowly and gradually, we will build up such a constitution for you that +you shall ride, drive, row, swim, dance, play, and have all that your +girlhood has missed in fun and frolic, and all that your womanhood +craves in love and companionship. Happiness has come at last, Ruth. Take +it from me. Everything you crave is yours. The love you want, the home, +and the life. As soon as you are strong enough, you shall know all about +it. Your business is to drink stimulants and sleep now, dear.” + +“So tired of this bed!” + +“It won't be long until you can lie on the couch and the veranda swing +again.” + +“Glory!” said the Girl. “David, I must have been full of fever for a +long time. I can't remember everything.” + +“Don't try, I tell you. Life is coming out right for you; that's all you +need know now.” + +“And for you, David?” + +“Whenever things are right for you, they are for me, Ruth.” + +“Don't you ever think of yourself?” + +“Not when I am close you.” + +“Ah! Then I shall have to grow strong very soon and think of you.” + +The Harvester's smile was pathetic. He was unspeakably tired again. + +“Never mind me!” he said. “Only get well.” + +“David, was there a little horse?” + +“There certainly was and is,” said the Harvester. + +“You had not named him yet, but in a few days I can lead him to the +window.” + +“Was there something said about a boat?” + +“Two of them.” + +“Two?” + +“Yes. A row boat for you, and a launch that will take you all over the +lake with only the exertion of steering on your part.” + +“David, I want my pendant and ring. I am so tired of lying here, I want +to play with them.” + +“Where do you keep them, Ruth?” + +“In the willow teapot. I thought no one would look there.” + +The Harvester laughed and brought the little boxes. He had to open them, +but the Girl put on the ring and asked him if he would not help her with +the pendant. He slipped the thread around her neck and clasped it. With +a sigh of satisfaction she took the ornament in one hand and closed her +eyes. He thought she was falling asleep, but presently she looked at +him. + +“You won't allow them to take it from me?” + +“Indeed no! There is no reason on earth why you should not have that +thread around your neck if you want it.” + +“I am going to sleep now. I want two things. May I have them?” + +“You may,” said the Harvester promptly, “provided they are not to eat.” + +“No,” said the Girl. “I've suffered and made others trouble. I won't +bother you by asking for anything more than is brought me. This is +different. You are completely worn out. Your face frightens me, David, +and white hairs that were not there a few days ago have come along your +temples. I can see them.” + +“You gave me a mighty serious scare, Ruth.” + +“I know,” said the Girl. “Forgive me. I didn't mean to. I want you to +leave me to Doctor Harmon and the nurse and go sleep a week. Then I +will be ready for the swing, and to hear some more about the trees and +birds.” + +“I can keep it up if you really need me, but if you don't I am sleepy. +So, if you feel safe, I think I will go.” + +“Oh I am safe enough,” said the Girl. “It isn't that. I'm so lonely. +I've made up my mind not to grieve for mother, but I miss her so now. I +feel so friendless.” + +“But, honey,” said the Harvester, “you mustn't do that! Don't you see +how all of us love you? Here is Granny shutting up her house and living +here, just to be with you. The nurse will do anything you say. Here is +the man you know best, and think so much of, staying in the cabin, and +so happy to give you all his time, and anything else you will have, +dear. And the Careys come every day, and will do their best to comfort +you, and always I am here for you to fall back on.” + +“Yes, I'm falling right now,” said the Girl. “I almost wish I had the +fever again. No one has touched me for days. I feel as if every one was +afraid of me.” + +The Harvester was puzzled. + +“Well, Ruth, I'm doing the best I know,” he said. “What is it you want?” + +“Nothing!” answered the Girl with slightly dejected inflection. “Say +good-bye to me, and go sleep your week. I'll be very good, and then you +shall take me a drive up the hill when you awaken. Won't that be fine?” + +“Say good-bye to me!” She felt a “little lonely!” They all acted as if +they were “afraid” of her. The Harvester indulged in a flashing mental +review and arrived at a decision. He knelt beside the bed, took both +slender, cool hands and covered them with kisses. Then he slid a hand +under the pillow and raised the tired head. + +“If I am to say good-bye, I have to do it in my own way, Ruth,” he said. + +Thereupon he began at the tumbled mass of hair and kissed from her +forehead to her lips, kisses warm and tender. + +“Now you go to sleep, and grow strong enough by the time I come back to +tell me whom you love,” he said, and went from the room without waiting +for any reply. + +With short intervals for food and dips in the lake the Harvester very +nearly slept the week. When he finally felt himself again, he bathed, +shaved, dressed freshly, and went to see the Girl. He had to touch her +to be sure she was real. She was extremely weak and tremulous, but her +face and hands were fuller, her colour was good, she was ravenously +hungry. Doctor Harmon said she was a little tryant, and the nurse that +she was plain cross. The first thing the Harvester noticed was that the +dull blue look in the depth of the dark eyes was gone. They were clear, +dusky wells, with shining lights at the bottom. + +“Well I never would have believed it!” he cried. “Doctor Harmon, you +are a great physician! You have made her all over new, and in a few more +days she will be on the veranda. This is great!” + +“Do I appear so much better to you, Harvester?” asked the Girl. + +“Has no one thought to show you,” cried the Harvester. “Here, let me!” + +He stepped to her dressing table, picked up a mirror, and held it before +her so that she could see herself. + +“Seems to me I am dreadfully white and thin yet!” + +“If you had seen what I saw ten days ago, my Girl, you would think you +appear like a pink, rosy angel now, or a wonderful dream.” + +“Truly, do I in the least resemble a dream, David?” + +“You are a dream. The loveliest one a man ever had. With three months of +right care and exercise you'll be the beautiful woman nature intended. +I'm so proud of you. You are being so brave! Just lie there in patience +a few more days, and out you come again to life; and life that will +thrill your being with joy.” + +“All right,” said the Girl, “I will. David are you attending to your +herbs?” + +“Not for a few weeks.” + +“You are very much behind?” + +“No. Nothing important. I don't make enough to count on what is ready +now. I can soon gather jimson leaves and seed to fill orders, the +hemlock is about right to take the fruit, the mustard is yet in pod, and +the saffron and wormseed can be attended later. I can catch up in two +days.” + +“What about----about the big bed on the hill?” + +The Harvester experienced an inward thrill of delight. She was so +impressed with the value of the ginseng she would not mention it, +even before the man she loved----no more than that----“adored”---- +“worshipped!” He smiled at her in understanding. + +“I'll have to take a peep at that and report,” he said. + +“Are you rested now?” + +“Indeed yes!” + +“You are dreadfully thin.” + +“I always am. I'll pick up a little when I get back to work.” + +“David, I want you to go to work now.” + +“Can you spare me?” + +“Haven't we done well these last few days?” + +“I can't tell you how well.” + +“Then please go gather everything you need to fill orders except the big +bed, and by that time maybe you could take another week off, and I could +go to the hill top and on the lake. I'm so anxious to put my feet on the +earth. They feel so dead.” + +“Are your feet well rubbed to draw down the circulation?” + +“They are rubbed shiny and almost skinned, David. No one ever had better +care, of that I am sure. Go gather what you should have.” + +“All right,” said the Harvester. + +He arose and as he started to leave the room he took one last look at +the Girl to see if he could detect anything he could suggest for +her comfort, and read a message in her eyes. Instantly there was an +answering flash in his. + +“I'll be back in a minute,” he said. “I just noticed discorea villosa +has the finest rattle boxes formed. I've been waiting to show you. And +the hop tree has its castanets all green and gold. In a few more weeks +it will begin to play for you. I'll bring you some.” + +Soon he returned with the queer seed formations, and as he bent above +her, with his back to Doctor Harmon, he whispered, “What is it?” + +Her lips barely formed the one word, “Hurry!” + +The Harvester straightened. + +“All comfortable, Ruth?” he asked casually. + +“Yes.” + +“You understand, of course, that there is not the slightest necessity +for my going to work if you really want me for anything, even if it's +nothing more than to have me within calling distance, in case you SHOULD +want something. The whole lot I can gather now won't amount to twenty +dollars. It's merely a matter of pride with me to have what is called +for. I'd much rather remain, if you can use me in any way at all.” + +“Twenty dollars is considerable, when expenses are as heavy as now. And +it's worth more than any money to you not to fail when orders come. I +have learned that, and David, I don't want you to either. You must +fill all demands as usual. I wouldn't forgive myself this winter if you +should be forced to send orders only partly filled because I fell ill +and hindered you. Please go and gather all you possibly will need of +everything you take at this season, only remember!” + +“There is no danger of my forgetting. If you are going to send me away +to work, you will allow me to kiss your hand before I go, fair lady?” + +He did it fervently. + +“One word with you, Harmon,” he said as he left the room. + +Doctor Harmon arose and followed him to the gold garden, and together +they stood beside the molten hedge of sunflowers, coneflowers, +elecampane, and jewel flower. + +“I merely want to mention that this is your inning,” said the Harvester. +“Find out if you are essential to the Girl's happiness as soon as you +can, and the day she tells me so, I will file her petition and take a +trip to the city to study some little chemical quirks that bother me. +That's all.” + +The Harvester went to the dry-house for bags and clipping shears, and +the doctor returned to the sunshine room. + +“Ruth,” he said, “do you know that the Harvester is the squarest man I +ever met?” + +“Is he?” asked the Girl. + +“He is! He certainly is!” + +“You must remember that I have little acquaintance with men,” said she. +“You are the first one I ever knew, and the only one except him.” + +“Well I try to be square,” said Doctor Harmon, “but that is where +Langston has me beaten a mile. I have to try. He doesn't. He was born +that way.” + +The Girl began to laugh. + +“His environment is so different,” she said. “Perhaps if he were in a +big city, he would have to try also.” + +“Won't do!” said the doctor. “He chose his location. So did I. He is a +stronger physical man than I ever was or ever will be. The struggle +that bound him to the woods and to research, that made him the master +of forces that give back life, when a man like Carey says it is the +end, proves him a master. The tumult in his soul must have been like a +cyclone in his forest, when he turned his back on the world and stuck to +the woods. Carey told me about it. Some day you must hear. It's a story +a woman ought to know in order to arrive at proper values. You never +will understand the man until you know that he is clean where most of +us are blackened with ugly sins we have no right on God's footstool to +commit and not so much reason as he. Every man should be as he is, but +very few are. Carey says Langston's mother was a wonderful element in +the formation of his character; but all mothers are anxious, and none of +them can build with no foundation and no soul timber. She had material +for a man to her hand, or she couldn't have made one.” + +“I see what you mean.” + +“So far as any inexperienced girl ever sees,” said the doctor. “Some day +if you live to fifty you will know, but you can't comprehend it now.” + +“If you think I lived all my life in Chicago's poverty spots and don't +know unbridled human nature!” + +“I found you and your mother unusually innocent women. You may +understand some things. I hope you do. It will help you to decide who is +the real man among the men who come into your life. There are some men, +Ruth, who are fit to mate with a woman, and to perpetuate themselves and +their mental and moral forces in children, who will be like them, and +there are others who are not. It is these 'others' who are responsible +for the sin of the world, the sickness and suffering. Any time you are +sure you have a chance at a moral man, square and honest, in control of +his brain and body, if you are a wise woman, Ruth, stick to him as the +limpet to the rock.” + +“You mean stick to the Harvester?” + +“If you are a wise woman!” + +“When was a woman ever wise?” + +“A few have been. They are the only care-free, really happy ones of the +world, the only wives without a big, poison, blue-bottle fly in their +ointment.” + +“I detest flies!” said the Girl. + +“So do I,” said the doctor. “For this reason I say to you choose the +ointment that never had one in it. Take the man who is 'master of his +fate, captain of his soul.' Stick to the Harvester! He is infinitely the +better man!” + +“Well have you seen anything to indicate that I wasn't sticking?” asked +the Girl. + +“No. And for your sake I hope I never will.” + +She laughed softly. + +“You do love him, Ruth?” + +“As I did my mother, yes. There is not a trace in my heart of the thing +he calls love.” + +“You have been stunted, warped, and the fountains of life never have +opened. It will come with right conditions of living.” + +“Do you think so?” + +“I know so. At least there is no one else you love, Ruth?” + +“No one except you.” + +“And do you feel about me just as you do him?” + +“No! It is different. What I owe him is for myself. What I owe you is +for my mother. You saw! You know! You understand what you did for her, +and what it meant to me. The Harvester must be the finest man on earth, +but when I try to think of either God or Heaven, your face intervenes.” + +“That's all right, Ruth, I'm so glad you told me,” said Doctor Harmon. +“I can make it all perfectly clear to you. You just go on and worship me +all you please. It's bound to make a cleaner, better man of me. What you +feel for me will hold me to a higher moral level all my life than I ever +have known before; but never forget that you are not going to live in +Heaven. You will be here at least sixty years yet, so when you come to +think of selecting a partner for the relations of the world, you stick +to the finest man on earth; see?” + +“I do!” said the Girl. “I saw you kiss Molly a week ago. She is lovely, +and I hope you will be perfectly happy. It won't interfere with my +worshipping you; not the least in the world. Go ahead and be joyful!” + +The doctor sprang to his feet in crimson confusion. The Girl lay and +laughed at him. + +“Don't!” she cried. “It's all right! It takes a weight off my soul as +heavy as a mountain. I do adore you, as I said. But every hour since I +left Chicago a big, black cloud has hung over me. I didn't feel free. +I didn't feel absolved. I felt that my obligations to you were so heavy +that when I had settled the last of the money debt I was in honour +bound----” + +“Don't, Ruth! Forget those dreadful times, as I told you then! Think +only of a happy future!” + +“Let me finish,” said the Girl. “Let me get this out of my system with +the other poison. From the day I came here, I've whispered in my heart, +'I am not free!' But if you love another woman! If you are going to +take her to your heart and to your lips, why that is my release. Oh Man, +speak the words! Tell me I am free indeed!” + +“Ruth, be quiet, for mercy sake! You'll raise a temperature, and the +Harvester will pitch me into the lake. You are free, child, of course! +You always have been. I understood the awful pressure that was on you +with the very first glimpse I had of your mother. Who was she, Ruth?” + +“She never would tell me.” + +“She thought you would appeal to her people?” + +“She knew I would! I couldn't have helped it.” + +“Would you like to know?” + +“I never want to. It is too late. I infinitely prefer to remain in +ignorance. Talk of something else.” + +“Let me read a wonderful book I found on the Harvester's shelves.” + +“Anything there will contain wonders, because he only buys what appeals +to him, and it takes a great book to do that. I am going to learn. He +will teach me, and when I come within comprehending distance of him, +then we are going on together.” + +“What an attractive place this is!” + +“Isn't it? I only have seen enough to understand the plan. I scarcely +can wait to set my feet on earth and go into detail. Granny Moreland +says that when spring comes over the hill, and brings up the flowers in +the big woods, she'd rather walk through them than to read Revelation. +She says it gives her an idea of Heaven she can come closer realizing +and it seems more stable. You know she worries about the foundations. +She can't understand what supports Heaven. But up there in Medicine +Woods the old dear gets so close her God that some day she is going to +realize that her idea of Heaven there is quite as near right as marble +streets and gold pillars and vastly more probable. The day I reach that +hill top again, Heaven begins for me. Do you know the wonderful thing +the Harvester did up there?” + +“Under the oak?” + +“Yes.” + +“Carey told me. It was marvellous.” + +“Not such a marvel as another the doctor couldn't have known. The +Harvester made passing out so natural, so easy, so a part of elemental +forces, that I almost have forgotten her tortured body. When I think of +her now, it is to wonder if next summer I can distinguish her whisper +among the leaves. Before you go, I'll take you up there and tell you +what he says, and show you what he means, and you will feel it also.” + +“What if I shouldn't go?” + +“What do you mean?” + +“Doctor Carey has offered me a splendid position in his hospital. There +would be work all day, instead of waiting all day in the hope of working +an hour. There would be a living in it for two from the word go. There +would be better air, longer life, more to be got out of it, and if I can +make good, Carey's work to take up as he grows old.” + +“Take it! Take it quickly!” cried the Girl. “Don't wait a minute! You +might wear out your heart in Chicago for twenty years or forever, and +not have an opportunity to do one half so much good. Take it at once!” + +“I was waiting to learn what you and Langston would say.” + +“He will say take it.” + +“Then I will be too happy for words. Ruth, you have not only paid the +debt, but you have brought me the greatest joy a man ever had. And there +is no need to wait the ages I thought I must. He can tell in a year if I +can do the work, and I know I can now; so it's all settled, if Langston +agrees.” + +“He will,” said the Girl. “Let me tell him!” + +“I wish you would,” said the doctor. “I don't know just how to go at +it.” + +Then for two days the Harvester and Belshazzar gathered herbs and spread +them on the drying trays. On the afternoon of the third, close three, +the doctor came to the door. + +“Langston,” he said, “we have a call for you. We can't keep Ruth quiet +much longer. She is tired. We want to change her bed completely. She +won't allow either of us to lift her. She says we hurt her. Will you +come and try it?” + +“You'll have to give me time to dip and rub off and get into clean +clothing,” he said. “I've been keeping away, because I was working on +time, and I smell to strangulation of stramonium and saffron.” + +“Can't give you ten seconds,” said the doctor. “Our temper is getting +brittle. We are cross as the proverbial fever patient. If you don't come +at once we will imagine you don't want to, and refuse to be moved at +all.” + +“Coming!” cried the Harvester, as he plunged his hands in the wash bowl +and soused his face. A second later he appeared on the porch. + +“Ruth,” he said, “I am steeped in the odours of the dry-house. Can't you +wait until I bathe and dress?” + +“No, I can't,” said a fretful voice. “I can't endure this bed another +minute.” + +“Then let Doctor Harmon lift you. He is so fresh and clean.” + +The Harvester glanced enviously at the shaven face and white trousers +and shirt of the doctor. + +“I just hate fresh, clean men. I want to smell herbs. I want to put my +feet in the dirt and my hands in the water.” + +The Harvester came at a rush. He brought a big easy chair from the +living-room, straightened the cover, and bent above the Girl. He picked +her up lightly, gently, and easing her to his body settled in the chair. +She laid her face on his shoulder, and heaved a deep sigh of content. + +“Be careful with my back, Man,” she said. “I think my spine is almost +worn through.” + +“Poor girl,” said the Harvester. “That bed should be softer.” + +“It should not!” contradicted the Girl. “It should be much harder. I'm +tired of soft beds. I want to lie on the earth, with my head on a root; +and I wish it would rain dirt on me. I am bathed threadbare. I want to +be all streaky.” + +“I understand,” said the Harvester. “Harmon, bring me a pad and pencil +a minute, I must write an order for some things I want. Will you call up +town and have them sent out immediately?” + +On the pad he wrote: “Telephone Carey to get the highest grade +curled-hair mattress, a new pad, and pillow, and bring them flying in +the car. Call Granny and the girl and empty the room. Clean, air, and +fumigate it thoroughly. Arrange the furniture differently, and help me +into the living-room with Ruth.” He handed the pad to the doctor. + +“Please attend to that,” he said, and to the Girl: “Now we go on a +journey. Doc, you and Molly take the corners of the rug we are on and +slide us into the other room until you get this aired and freshened.” + +In the living-room the Girl took one long look at the surroundings +and suddenly relaxed. She cuddled against the Harvester and lifting a +tremulous white hand, drew it across his unshaven cheek. + +“Feels so good,” she said. “I'm sick and tired of immaculate men.” + +The Harvester laughed, tucked her feet in the cover and held her +tenderly. The Girl lay with her cheek against the rough khaki, palpitant +with the excitement of being moved. + +“Isn't it great?” she panted. + +He caught the hand that had touched his cheek in a tender grip, and +laughed a deep rumble of exultation that came from the depths of his +heart. + +“There's no name for it, honey,” he said. “But don't try to talk until +you have a long rest. Changing positions after you have lain so long may +be making unusual work for your heart. Am I hurting your back?” + +“No,” said the Girl. “This is the first time I have been comfortable in +ages. Am I tiring you?” + +“Yes,” laughed the Harvester. “You are almost as heavy as a large sack +of leaves, but not quite equal to a bridge pillar or a log. Be sure to +think of that, and worry considerably. You are in danger of straining my +muscles to the last degree, my heart included.” + +“Where is your heart?” whispered the Girl. + +“Right under your cheek,” answered the Harvester. “But for Heaven's +sake, don't intimate that you are taking any interest in it, or it will +go to pounding until your head will bounce. It's one member of my body +that I can't control where you are concerned.” + +“I thought you didn't like me any more.” + +“Careful!” warned the Harvester. “You are yet too close Heaven to fib +like that, Ruth. What have I done to indicate that I don't love you more +than ever?” + +“Stayed away nearly every minute for three awful days, and wouldn't come +without being dragged; and now you're wishing they would hurry and fix +that bed, so you can put me down and go back to your rank old herbs +again.” + +“Well of all the black prevarications! I went when you sent me, and +came when you called. I'd willingly give up my hope of what Granny calls +'salvation' to hold you as I am for an hour, and you know it.” + +“It's going to be much longer than that,” said the Girl nestling to him. +“I asked for you because you never hurt me, and they always do. I knew +you were so strong that my weight now wouldn't be a load for one of your +hands, and I am not going back to that bed until I am so tired that I +will be glad to lie down.” + +For a long time she was so silent the Harvester thought her going to +sleep; and having learned that for him joy was probably transient, he +deliberately got all he could. He closely held the hand she had not +withdrawn, and often lifted it to his lips. Sometimes he stroked the +heavy braid, gently ran his hands across the tired shoulders, or eased +her into a different position. There was not a doubt in his mind of one +thing. He was having a royal, good time, and he was thankful for the +work he had set his assistants that kept them out of the room. They +seemed in no hurry, and from scuffling, laughing, and a steady stream of +talk, they were entertained at least. At last the Girl roused. + +“There is something I want to ask you,” she said. “I promised Doctor +Harmon I would.” + +Instantly the heart of the Harvester gave a leap that jarred the head +resting on it. + +“You don't like him?” questioned the Girl. + +“I do!” declared the Harvester. “I like him immensely. There is not a +fine, manly good-looking feature about him that I have missed. I don't +fail to do him justice on every point.” + +“I'm so glad! Then you will want him to remain.” + +“Here?” asked the Harvester with a light, hot breath. + +“In Onabasha! Doctor Carey has offered him the place of chief assistant +at the hospital. There is a good salary and the chance of taking up +the doctor's work as he grows older. It means plenty to do at once, +healthful atmosphere, congenial society----everything to a young man. +He only had a call once in a while in Chicago, often among people who +received more than they paid, like me, and he was very lonely. I think +it would be great for him.” + +“And for you, Ruth?” + +“It doesn't make the least difference to me; but for his sake, because I +think so much of him, I would like to see him have the place.” + +“You still think so much of him, Ruth?” + +“More, if possible,” said the Girl. “Added to all I owed him before, he +has come here and worked for days to save me, and it wasn't his fault +that it took a bigger man. Nothing alters the fact that he did all he +could, most graciously and gladly.” + +“What do you mean, Ruth?” stammered the Harvester. + +“Oh they have worn themselves out!” cried the Girl impatiently. “First, +Granny Moreland told me every least little detail of how I went out, and +you resurrected me. I knew what she said was true, because she worked +with you. Then Doctor Carey told me, and Mrs. Carey, and Doctor Harmon, +and Molly, and even Granny's little assistant has left the kitchen to +tell me that I owe my life to you, and all of them might as well have +saved breath. I knew all the time that if ever I came out of this, and +had a chance to be like other women, it would be your work, and I'm glad +it is. I'd hate to be under obligations to some people I know; but I +feel honoured to be indebted to you.” + +“I'm mighty sorry they worried you. I had no idea----” + +“They didn't 'worry,' me! I am just telling you that I knew it all the +time; that's all!” + +“Forget that!” said the Harvester. “Come back to our subject. What was +it you wanted, dear?” + +“To know if you have any objections to Doctor Harmon remaining in +Onabasha?” + +“Certainly not! It will be a fine thing for him.” + +“Will it make any difference to you in any way?” + +“Ruth, that's probing too deep,” said the Harvester. + +“I don't see why!” + +“I'm glad of it!” + +“Why?” + +“I'd least rather show my littleness to you than to any one else on +earth.” + +“Then you have some feeling about it?” + +“Perhaps a trifle. I'll get over it. Give me a little time to adjust +myself. Doctor Harmon shall have the place, of course. Don't worry about +that!” + +“He will be so happy!” + +“And you, Ruth?” + +“I'll be happy too!” + +“Then it's all right,” said the Harvester. + +He laid down her hand, drew the cover over it, and slightly shifted her +position to rest her. The door opened, and Doctor Harmon announced that +the room was ready. It was shining and fresh. The bed was now turned +with its head to the north, so that from it one could see the big +trees in Medicine Woods, the sweep of the hillside, the sparkle of +mallow-bordered Singing Water, the driveway and the gold flower +garden. Everything was so changed that the room had quite a different +appearance. The instant he laid her on it the Girl said, “This bed is +not mine.” + +“Yes it is,” said the Harvester. “You see, we were a little excited +sometimes, and we spilled a few quarts of perfectly good medicine on +your mattress. It was hopelessly smelly and ruined; so I am going to +cremate it and this is your splinter new one and a fresh pad and +pillow. Now you try them and see if they are not much harder and more +comfortable.” + +“This is just perfect!” she sighed, as she sank into the bed. + +The Harvester bent over her to straighten the cover, when suddenly +she reached both arms around his neck, and gripped him with all her +strength. + +“Thank you!” she said. + +“May I hold you to-morrow?” whispered the Harvester, emboldened by this. + +“Please do,” said the Girl. + +The Harvester, with dog to heel, went to the oak to think. + +“Belshazzar, kommen Sie!” said the man, dropping on the seat and holding +out his hand. The dog laid his muzzle in the firm grip. + +“Bel,” said the Harvester, “I am all at sea. One day I think maybe I +have a little chance, the next----none at all. I had an hour of solid +comfort to-day, now I'm in the sweat box again. It's a little selfish +streak in me, Bel, that hates to see Harmon go into the hospital and +take my place with the Careys. They are my best and only friends. He is +young, social, handsome, and will be ever present. In three months he +will become so popular that I might as well be off the earth. I wish I +didn't think it, but I'm so small that I do. And then there is my +Dream Girl, Bel. The girl you found for me, old fellow. There never was +another like her, and she has my heart for all time. And he has hers. +That hospital plan is the best thing in the world for her. It will keep +her where Carey can have an eye on her, where the air is better, where +she can have company without the city crush, where she is close the +country, and a good living is assured. Bel, it's the nicest arrangement +you ever saw for every one we know, except us.” + +The Harvester laughed shortly. “Bel,” he said, “tell me! If a man lived +a hundred years, could he have the heartache all the way? Seems like +I've had it almost that long now. In fact, I've had it such ages I'd +be lonesome without it. This is some more of my very own medicine, so I +shouldn't make a wry face over taking it. I knew what would happen when +I sent for him, and I didn't hesitate. I must not now. + +“Only I got to stop one thing, Bel. I told him I would play square, +and I have. But here it ends. After this, I must step back and be big +brother. Lots of fun in this brother business, Bel. But maybe I am cut +out for it. Anyway it's written! But if it is, how did she come to allow +me such privileges as I took to-day? That wasn't professional by any +means. It was just the stiffest love-making I knew how to do, Bel, and +she didn't object by the quiver of an eyelash. God knows I was watching +closely enough for any sign that I was distasteful. And I might have +been well enough. Rough, herb-stained old clothes, unshaven, everything +to offend a dainty girl. She said I might hold her again to-morrow. And, +Bel, what the nation did she hug me like that for, if she's going to +marry him? Boy, I see my way clear to an hour more. While I'm at it, +just to surprise myself, I believe I'll take it like other men. I think +I'll go on a little bender, and make what probably will be the last day +a plumb good one. Something worth remembering is better than nothing +at all, Bel! He hasn't told me that he has won. She didn't SAY she was +going to marry him, and she did say he hurt her, and she wanted me. Bel, +how about the grimness of it, if she should marry him and then discover +that he hurts her, and she wants me. Lord God Almighty, if you have any +mercy at all, never put me up against that,” prayed the Harvester, “for +my heart is water where she is concerned.” + +The Harvester arose, and going to the lake, he cut an arm load of big, +pink mallows, covered each mound with fresh flowers, whistled to the +dog, and went to his work. Many things had accumulated, and he cleaned +the barn, carried herbs from the dry-house to the store-room, and put +everything into shape. Close noon the next day he went to Onabasha, and +was gone three hours. He came back barbered in the latest style, and +carrying a big bundle. When the hour for arranging the bed came, he was +yet in his room, but he sent word he would be there in a second. + +As he crossed the living-room he pulled a chair to the veranda and +placed a footstool before it. Then he stepped into the sunshine room. A +quizzical expression crossed the face of Doctor Harmon as he closed the +book he was reading aloud to the Girl and arose. Wholly unembarrassed +the Harvester smiled. + +“Have I got this rigging anywhere near right?” he inquired. + +“David, what have you done?” gasped the amazed Girl. + +“I didn't feel anywhere near up to the 'mark of my high calling' +yesterday,” quoted the Harvester. “I don't know how I appear, but I'm +clean as shaving, soap and hot water will make me, and my clothing will +not smell offensively. Now come out of that bed for a happy hour. Where +is that big coverlet? You are going on the veranda to-day.” + +“You look just like every one else,” complained Doctor Harmon. + +“You look perfectly lovely,” declared the Girl. + +“The swale sends you this invitation to come and see star-shine at the +foot of mullein hill,” said the Harvester, offering a bouquet. It was a +loose bunch of long-stemmed, delicate flowers, each an inch across, and +having five pearl-white petals lightly striped with pale green. Five +long gold anthers arose, and at their base gold stamens and a green +pistil. The leaves were heart-shaped and frosty, whitish-green, +resembling felt. The Harvester bent to offer them. + +“Have some Grass of Parnassus, my dear,” he said. + +The Girl waved them away. “Go stand over there by the door and slowly +turn around. I want to see you.” + +The Harvester obeyed. He was freshly and carefully shaven. His hair +was closely cropped at the base of the head, long, heavy, and slightly +waving on top. He wore a white silk shirt, with a rolling collar and +tie, white trousers, belt, hose, and shoes, and his hands were manicured +with care. + +“Have I made a mess of it, or do I appear anything like other men?” he +asked, eagerly. + +The Girl lifted her eyes to Doctor Harmon and smiled. + +“Do you observe anything messy?” she inquired. + +“You needn't fish for compliments quite so obviously,” he answered. +“I'll pay them without being asked. I do not. He is quite correct, and +infinitely better looking than the average. Distinguished is a proper +word for the gentleman in my opinion. But why, in Heaven's name, have we +never had the pleasure of seeing you thus before?” + +“Look here, Doc,” said the Harvester, “do you mean that you enjoy +looking at me merely because I am dressed this way?” + +“I do indeed,” said the doctor. “It is good to see you with the garb of +work laid aside, and the stamp of cleanliness and ease upon you.” + +“By gum, that is rubbing it in a little too rough!” cried the Harvester. +“I bathe oftener than you do. My clothing is always clean when I start +out. Of course, in my work I come hourly in contact with muck, water, +and herb juices.” + +“It's understood that is unavoidable,” said Doctor Harmon. + +“And if cleanliness is made an issue, I'd rather roll in any of it +than put my finger tips into the daily work of a surgeon,” added the +Harvester, and the Girl giggled. + +“That's enough Medicine Man!” she said. “You did not make a 'mess' of +it, or anything else you ever attempted. As for appearing like other +men, thank Heaven, you do not. You look just a whole world bigger and +better and finer. Come, carry me out quickly. I am wild to go. Please +put my lovely flowers in water, Molly, only give me a few to hold.” + +The Harvester arranged the pink coverlet, picked up the Girl, and +carried her to the living-room. + +“We will rest here a little,” he said, “and then, if you feel equal to +it, we will try the veranda. Are you easy now?” + +She nestled her face against the soft shirt and smiled at him. She +lifted her hand, laid it on his smooth cheek and then the crisp hair. + +“Oh Man!” she cried. “Thank God you didn't give me up, too! I want life! +I want LIFE!” + +The Harvester tightened his grip just a trifle. “Then I thank God, too,” + he said. “Can you tell me how you are, dear? Is there any difference?” + +“Yes,” she answered. “I grow tired lying so long, but there isn't the +ghost of an ache in my bones. I can just feel pure, delicious blood +running in my veins. My hands and feet are always warm, and my head +cool.” + +The Harvester's face drew very close. “How about your heart, honey?” he +whispered. “Anything new there?” + +“Yes, I am all over new inside and out. I want to shout, run, sing, and +swim. Oh I'd give anything to have you carry me down and dip me in the +lake right now.” + +“Soon, Girl! That will come soon,” prophesied the Harvester. + +“I scarcely can wait. And you did say a saddle, didn't you? Won't it be +great to come galloping up the levee, when the leaves are red and the +frost is in the air. Oh am I going fast enough?” + +“Much faster than I expected,” said the Harvester. “You are surprising +all of us, me most of any. Ruth, you almost make me hope that you regard +this as home. Honey, you are thinking a little of me these days?” + +The hand that had fallen from his hair lay on his shoulder. Now it slid +around his neck, and gripped him with all its strength. + +“Heaps and heaps!” she said. “All I get a chance to, for being bothered +and fussed over, and everlastingly read mushy stuff that's intended for +some one else. Please take me to the veranda now; I want to tell you +something.” + +His head swam, but the Harvester set his feet firmly, arose, and carried +his Dream Girl back to outdoor life. When he reached the chair, she +begged him to go a few steps farther to the bench on the lake shore. + +“I am afraid,” said the man. + +“It's so warm. There can't be any difference in the air. Just a minute.” + +The Harvester pushed open the screen, went to the bench, and seating +himself, drew the cover closely around her. + +“Don't speak a word for a long time,” he said. “Just rest. If I tire you +too much and spoil everything, I will be desperate.” + +He clasped her to him, laid his cheek against her hair, and his lips on +her forehead. He held her hand and kissed it over and over, and again +he watched and could find no resentment. The cool, pungent breeze swept +from the lake, and the voices of wild life chattered at their feet. +Sometimes the water folks splashed, while a big black and gold butterfly +mistook the Girl's dark hair for a perching place and settled on it, +slowly opening its wonderful wings. + +“Lie quietly, Girl,” whispered the Harvester. “You are wearing a living +jewel, an ornament above price, on your hair. Maybe you can see it when +it goes. There!” + +“Oh I did!” she cried. “How I love it here! Before long may I lie in the +dining-room window a while so I can see the water. I like the hill, but +I love the lake more.” + +“Now if you just would love me,” said the Harvester, “you would have all +Medicine Woods in your heart.” + +“Don't hurry me so!” said the Girl. “You gave me a year; and it's only a +few weeks, and I've not been myself, and I'm not now. I mustn't make any +mistake, and all I know for sure is that I want you most, and I can rest +best with you, and I miss you every minute you are gone. I think that +should satisfy you.” + +“That would be enough for any reasonable man,” said the Harvester +angrily. “Forgive me, Ruth, I have been cruel. I forgot how frail and +weak you are. It is having Harmon here that makes me unnatural. It +almost drives me to frenzy to know that he may take you from me.” + +“Then send him away!” + +“SEND HIM AWAY?” + +“Yes, send him away! I am tired to death of his poetry, and seeing him +spoon around. Send both of them away quickly!” + +The Harvester gulped, blinked, and surreptitiously felt for her pulse. + +“Oh, I've not developed fever again,” she said. “I'm all right. But it +must be a fearful expense to have both of them here by the week, and I'm +so tired of them, Granny says she can take care of me just as well, +and the girl who helps her can cook. No one but you shall lift me, if I +don't get my nose Out until I can walk alone Both of them are perfectly +useless, and I'd much rather you'd send them away.” + +“There, there! Of course!” said the Harvester soothingly. “I'll do it +as soon as I possibly dare. You don't understand, honey. You are yet +delicate beyond measure, internally. The fever burned so long. Every +morsel you eat is measured and cooked in sterilized vessels, and I'd be +scared of my life to have the girl undertake it.” + +“Why she is doing it straight along now! She and Granny! Molly isn't out +of Doctor Harmon's sight long enough to cook anything. Granny says there +is 'a lot of buncombe about what they do, and she is going to tell them +so right to their teeth some of these days, if they badger her much +more,' and I wish she would, and you, too.” + +The Harvester gathered the Girl to him in one crushing bear hug. + +“For the love of Heaven, Ruth, you drive me crazy! Answer me just one +question. When you told me that you 'adored and worshipped' Doctor +Harmon, did you mean it, or was that the delirium of fever?” + +“I don't know WHAT I told you! If I said I 'adored' him, it was the +truth. I did! I do! I always will! So do I adore the Almighty, but +that's no sign I want him to read poetry to me, and be around all the +time when I am wild for a minute with you. I can worship Doctor Harmon +in Chicago or Onabasha quite as well. Fire him! If you don't, I will!” + +“Good Lord!” cried the Harvester, helpless until the Girl had to cling +to him to prevent rolling from his nerveless arms. “Ruth, Ruth, will you +feel my pulse?” + +“No, I won't! But you are going to drop me. Take me straight back to my +beautiful new bed, and send them away.” + +“A minute! Give me a minute!” gasped the Harvester. “I couldn't lift a +baby just now. Ruth, dear, I thought you LOVED the man.” + +“What made you think so?” + +“You did!” + +“I didn't either! I never said I loved him. I said I was under +obligations to him; but they are as well repaid as they ever can be. I +said I adored him, and I tell you I do! Give him what we owe him, both +of us, in money, and send them away. If you'd seen as much of them as I +have, you'd be tired of them, too. Please, please, David!” + +“Yes,” said the Harvester, arising in a sudden tide of effulgent joy. +“Yes, Girl, just as quickly as I can with decency. I----I'll send them +on the lake, and I'll take care of you.” + +“You won't read poetry to me?” + +“I will not.” + +“You won't moon at me?” + +“No!” + +“Then hurry! But have them take your boat. I am going to have the first +ride in mine.” + +“Indeed you are, and soon, too!” said the Harvester, marching up the +hill as if he were leading hosts to battle. + +He laid the Girl on the bed and covered her, and called Granny Moreland +to sit beside her a few minutes. He went into the gold garden and +proposed that the doctor and the nurse go rowing until supper time, and +they went with alacrity. When they started he returned to the Girl and, +sitting beside her, he told Granny to take a nap. Then he began to talk +softly all about wild music, and how it was made, and what the different +odours sweeping down the hill were, and when the red leaves would come, +and the nuts rattle down, and the frost fairies enamel the windows, and +soon she was sound asleep. Granny came back, and the Harvester walked +around the lake shore to be alone a while and think quietly, for he was +almost too dazed and bewildered for full realization. + +As he softly followed the foot path he heard voices, and looking down, +he saw the boat lying in the shade and beneath a big tree on the bank +sat the doctor and the nurse. His arm was around her, and her head was +on his shoulder; and she said very distinctly, “How long will it be +until we can go without offending him?” + + + +CHAPTER XIX. A VERTICAL SPINE + +By middle September the last trace of illness had been removed from the +premises, and it was rapidly disappearing from the face and form of the +Girl. She was showing a beautiful roundness, there was lovely colour on +her cheeks and lips, and in her dark eyes sparkled a touch of mischief. +Rigidly she followed the rules laid down for diet and exercise, and as +strength flowed through her body, and no trace of pain tormented her, +she began revelling in new and delightful sensations. She loved to pull +her boat as she willed, drive over the wood road, study the books, +cook the new dishes, rearrange furniture, and go with the Harvester +everywhere. + +But that was greatly the management of the man. He was so afraid that +something might happen to undo all the wonders accomplished in the Girl, +and again whiten her face with pain, that he scarcely allowed her out of +his sight. He remained in the cabin, helping when she worked, and then +drove with her and a big blanket to the woods, arranged her chair and +table, found some attractive subject, and while the wind ravelled her +hair and flushed her cheeks, her fingers drew designs. At noon they +went to the cabin to lunch, and the Girl took a nap, while the Harvester +spread his morning's reaping on the shelves to dry. They returned to +the woods until five o'clock; then home again and the Girl dressed +and prepared supper, while the Harvester spread his stores and fed the +stock. Then he put on white clothing for the evening. The Girl rested +while he washed the dishes, and they explored the lake in the little +motor boat, or drove to the city for supplies, or to see their friends. + +“Are you even with your usual work at this time of the year?” she asked +as they sat at breakfast. + +“I am,” said the Harvester. “The only things that have been crowded out +are the candlesticks. They will have to remain on the shelf until the +herbs and roots are all in, and the long winter evenings come. Then I'll +use the luna pattern and finish yours first of all.” + +“What are you going to do to-day?” + +“Start on a regular fall campaign. Some of it for the sake of having it, +and some because there is good money in it. Will you come?” + +“Indeed yes. May I help, or shall I take my drawing along?” + +“Bring your drawing. Next fall you may help, but as yet you are too +close suffering for me to see you do anything that might be even a +slight risk. I can't endure it.” + +“Baby!” she jeered. + +“Christen me anything you please,” laughed the Harvester. “I'm short on +names anyway.” + +He went to harness Betsy, and the Girl washed the dishes, straightened +the rooms, and collected her drawing material. Then she walked up the +hill, wearing a shirt and short skirt of khaki, stout shoes, and a straw +hat that shaded her face. She climbed into the wagon, laid the drawing +box on the seat, and caught the lines as the Harvester flung them to +her. He went swinging ahead, Belshazzar to heel, the Girl driving +after. The white pigeons circled above, and every day Ajax allowed his +curiosity to overcome his temper, and followed a little farther. + +“Whoa, Betsy!” The Girl tugged at the lines; but Betsy took the bit +between her teeth, and plodded after the Harvester. She pulled with +all her might, but her strength was not nearly sufficient to stop the +stubborn animal. + +“Whoa, David!” cried the Girl. + +“What is it?” the Harvester turned. + +“Won't you please wait until I can take off my hat? I love to ride +bareheaded through the woods, and Betsy won't stop until you do, no +matter how hard I pull.” + +“Betsy, you're no lady!” said the Harvester. “Why don't you stop when +you're told?” + +“I shan't waste any more strength on her,” said the Girl. “Hereafter I +shall say, 'Gee, David,' 'Haw, David,' 'Whoa, David,' and then she will +do exactly as you.” + +The Harvester stopped half way up the hill, and beside a large, shaded +bed spread the rug, and set up the little table and chair for the Girl. + +“Want a plant to draw?” he asked. “This is very important to us. It +has a string of names as long as a princess, but I call it goldenseal, +because the roots are yellow. The chemists ask for hydrastis. That +sounds formidable, but it's a cousin of buttercups. The woods of Ohio +and Indiana produce the finest that ever grew, but it is so nearly +extinct now that the trade can be supplied by cultivation only. I +suspect I'm responsible for its disappearance around here. I used to get +a dollar fifty a pound, and most of my clothes and books when a boy I +owe to it. Now I get two for my finest grade; that accounts for the size +of these beds.” + +“It's pretty!” said the Girl, studying a plant averaging a foot in +height. On a slender, round, purplish stem arose one big, rough leaf, +heavily veined, and having from five to nine lobes. Opposite was a +similar leaf, but very small, and a head of scarlet berries resembling +a big raspberry in shape. The Harvester shook the black woods soil from +the yellow roots, and held up the plant. + +“You won't enjoy the odour,” he said. + +“Well I like the leaves. I know I can use them some way. They are so +unusual. What wonderful colour in the roots!” + +“One of its names is Indian paint,” explained the Harvester. “Probably +it furnished the squaws of these woods with colouring matter. Now let's +see what we can get out of it. You draw the plant and I'll dig the +roots.” + +For a time the Girl bent over her work and the Harvester was busy. +Belshazzar ranged the woods chasing chipmunks. The birds came asking +questions. When the drawing was completed, other subjects were found at +every turn, and the Girl talked almost constantly, her face alive with +interest. The May-apple beds lay close, and she drew from them. She +learned the uses and prices of the plant, and also made drawings of +cohosh, moonseed and bloodroot. That was so wonderful in its root +colour, the Harvester filled the little cup with water and she began +to paint. Intensely absorbed she bent above the big, notched, silvery +leaves and the blood-red roots, testing and trying to match them +exactly. Every few minutes the Harvester leaned over her shoulder to see +how she was progressing and to offer suggestions. When she finished she +picked up a trailing vine of moonseed. + +“You have this on the porch,” she said. “I think it is lovely. There +is no end to the beautiful combinations of leaves, and these are such +pretty little grape-like clusters; but if you touch them the slightest +you soil the wonderful surface.” + +“And that makes the fairies very sad,” said the Harvester. “They love +that vine best of any, because they paint its fruit with the most care. +'Bloom' the scientists call it. You see it on cultivated plums, grapes, +and apples, but never in any such perfection as on moonseed and black +haws in the woods. You should be able to design a number of pretty +things from the cohosh leaves and berries, too. You scarcely can get a +start this fall, but early in the spring you can begin, and follow the +season. If your work comes out well this winter, I'll send some of it to +the big publishing houses, and you can make book and magazine covers and +decorations, if you would like.” + +“'If I would like!' How modest! You know perfectly well that if I could +make a design that would be accepted, and used on a book or magazine, I +would almost fly. Oh do you suppose I could?” + +“I don't 'suppose' anything about it, I know,” said the Harvester. “It +is not possible that the public can be any more tired of wild roses, +golden-rod, and swallows than the poor art editors who accept them +because they can't help themselves. Dangle something fresh and new under +their noses and see them snap. The next time I go to Onabasha I'll get +you some popular magazines, and you can compare what is being used with +what you see here, and judge for yourself how glad they would be for a +change. And potteries, arts and crafts shops, and wall paper factories, +they'd be crazy for the designs I could furnish them. As for money, +there's more in it than the herbs, if I only could draw.” + +“I can do that,” said the Girl. “Trail the vine and give me an idea +how to scale it. I'll just make studies now, and this winter I'll +conventionalize them and work them into patterns. Won't that be fun?” + +“That's more than fun, Ruth,” said the Harvester solemnly. “That is +creation. That touches the provinces of the Almighty. That is taking His +unknown wonders and making them into pleasure and benefit for thousands, +not to mention filling your face with awe divine, and lighting your eyes +with interest and ambition. That is life, Ruth. You are beginning to +live right now.” + +“I see,” said the Girl. “I understand! I am!” + +“You get your subjects now. When the harvest is over I'll show you what +I have in my head, and before Christmas the fun will begin.” + +“What next?” + +“Sketch a sarsaparilla plant and this yam vine. It grows on your veranda +too----the rattle box, you remember. The leaves and seeding arrangements +are wonderful. You can do any number of things with them, and all will +be new.” + +He called her attention to and brought her samples of ginger leaves, +Indian hemp, queen-of-the-meadow, cone-flower, burdock, baneberry, and +Indian turnip, as he harvested them in turn. When they came to the large +beds of orange pleurisy root the Girl cried out with pleasure. + +“We will take its prosaic features first,” said the Harvester. “It is +good medicine and worth handling. Forget that! The Bird Woman calls it +butterfly flower. That's better. Now try to analyze a single bloom of +this gaudy mass, and you will see why there's poetry coming.” + +He knelt beside the Girl, separating the blooms and pointing out their +marvellous colour and construction. She leaned against his shoulder, and +watched with breathless interest. As his bare head brought its mop of +damp wind-rumpled hair close, she ran her fingers through it, and with +her handkerchief wiped his forehead. + +“Sometimes I almost wish you'd get sick,” she said irrelevantly. + +“In the name of common sense, why?” demanded the Harvester. + +“Oh it must be born in the heart of a woman to want to mother +something,” answered the Girl. “I feel sometimes as if I would like to +take care of you, as if you were a little fellow. David, I know why +your mother fought to make you the man she desired. You must have been +charming when small. I can shut my eyes and just see the boy you were, +and I should have loved you as she did.” + +“How about the man I am?” inquired the Harvester promptly. “Any leanings +toward him yet, Ruth?” + +“It's getting worser and worser every day and hour,” said the Girl. “I +don't understand it at all. I wouldn't try to live without you. I don't +want you to leave my sight. Everything you do is the way I would have +it. Nothing you ever say shocks or offends me. I'd love to render you +any personal service. I want to take you in my arms and hug you tight +half a dozen times a day as a reward for the kind and lovely things you +do for me.” + +A dull red flamed up the neck and over the face of the Harvester. One +arm lifted to the chair back, the other dropped across the table so that +the Girl was almost encircled. + +“For the love of mercy, Ruth, why haven't I had a hint of this before?” + he cried. + +“You said you'd hate me. You said you'd drop me into the deepest part of +the lake if I deceived you; and if I have to tell the truth, why, that +is all of it. I think it is nonsense about some wonderful feeling that +is going to take possession of your heart when you love any one. I love +you so much I'd gladly suffer to save you pain or sorrow. But there are +no thrills; it's just steady, sober, common sense that I should love +you, and I do. Why can't you be satisfied with what I can give, David?” + +“Because it's husks and ashes,” said the Harvester grimly. “You drive me +to desperation, Ruth. I am almost wild for your love, but what you offer +me is plain, straight affection, nothing more. There isn't a trace of +the feeling that should exist between man and wife in it. Some men might +be satisfied to be your husband, and be regarded as a father or brother. +I am not. The red bird didn't want a sister, Ruth, he was asking for a +mate. So am I. That's as plain as I know how to put it. There is some +way to awaken you into a living, loving woman, and, please God, I'll +find it yet, but I'm slow about it; there's no question of that. Never +you mind! Don't worry! Some of these days I have faith to believe it +will sweep you as a tide sweeps the shore, and then I hope God will be +good enough to let me be where you will land in my arms.” + +The Girl sat looking at him between narrowed lids. Suddenly she took his +head between her hands, drew his face to hers and deliberately kissed +him. Then she drew away and searched his eyes. + +“There!” she challenged. “What is the matter with that?” + +The Harvester's colour slowly faded to a sickly white. + +“Ruth, you try me almost beyond human endurance,” he said. “'What's the +matter with that?'” He arose, stepped back, folded his arms, and stared +at her. “'What's the matter with that?'” he repeated. “Never was I so +sorely tempted in all my life as I am now to lie to you, and say there +is nothing, and take you in my arms and try to awaken you to what I +mean by love. But suppose I do----and fail! Then comes the agony of slow +endurance for me, and the possibility that any day you may meet the man +who can arouse in you the feelings I cannot. That would mean my oath +broken, and my heart as well; while soon you would dislike me beyond +tolerance, even. I dare not risk it! The matter is, that was the loving +caress of a ten-year-old girl to a big brother she admired. That's all! +Not much, but a mighty big defect when it is offered a strong man as +fuel on which to feed consuming passion.” + +“Consuming passion,” repeated the Girl. “David you never lie, and you +never exaggerate. Do you honestly mean that there is something----oh, +there is! I can see it! You are really suffering, and if I come to you, +and try my best to comfort you, you'll only call it baby affection that +you don't want. David, what am I going to do?” + +“You are going to the cabin,” said the Harvester, “and cook us a big +supper. I am dreadfully hungry. I'll be along presently. Don't worry, +Ruth, you are all right! That kiss was lovely. Tell me that you are not +angry with me.” + +Her eyes were wet as she smiled at him. + +“If there is a bigger brute than a man anywhere on the footstool, I +should like to meet it,” said the Harvester, “and see what it appears +like. Go along, honey; I'll be there as soon as I load.” + +He drove to the dry-house, washed and spread his reaping on the big +trays, fed the stock, dressed in the white clothing and entered the +kitchen. That the Girl had been crying was obvious, but he overlooked +it, helped with the work, and then they took a boat ride. When they +returned he proposed that she should select her favourite likeness of +her mother, and the next time he went to the city he would take it +with his, and order the enlargements he had planned. To save carrying +a lighted lamp into the closet he brought her little trunk to the +living-room, where she opened it and hunted the pictures. There were +several, and all of them were of a young, elegantly dressed woman of +great beauty. The Harvester studied them long. + +“Who was she, Ruth?” he asked at last. + +“I don't know, and I have no desire to learn.” + +“Can you explain how the girl here represented came to marry a brother +of Henry Jameson?” + +“Yes. I was past twelve when my father came the last time, and I +remember him distinctly. If Uncle Henry were properly clothed, he is +not a bad man in appearance, unless he is very angry. He can use proper +language, if he chooses. My father was the best in him, refined and +intensified. He was much taller, very good looking, and he dressed and +spoke well. They were born and grew to manhood in the East, and came out +here at the same time. Where Uncle Henry is a trickster and a trader +in stock, my father went a step higher, and tricked and traded in +men----and women! Mother told me this much once. He saw her somewhere +and admired her. He learned who she was, went to her father's law office +and pretended he was representing some great business in the West, until +he was welcomed as a promising client. He hung around and when she came +in one day her father was forced to introduce them. The remainder is the +same world-old story----a good looking, glib-tongued man, plying every +art known to an expert, on an innocent girl.” + +“Is he dead, Ruth?” + +“We thought so. We hoped so.” + +“Your mother did not feel that her people might be suffering for her as +she was for them?” + +“Not after she appealed to them twice and received no reply.” + +“Perhaps they tried to find her. Maybe she has a father or mother who +is longing for word from her now. Are you very sure you are right in not +wanting to know?” + +“She never gave me a hint from which I could tell who or where they +were. In so gentle a woman as my mother that only could mean she did not +want them to know of her. Neither do I. This is the photograph I prefer; +please use it.” + +“I'll put back the trunk in the morning, when I can see better,” said +the Harvester. + +The Girl closed it, and soon went to bed. But there was no sleep for +the man. He went into the night, and for hours he paced the driveway in +racking thought. Then he sat on the step and looked at Belshazzar before +him. + +“Life's growing easier every minute, Bel,” said the Harvester. “Here's +my Dream Girl, lovely as the most golden instant of that wonderful +dream, offering me----offering me, Bel----in my present pass, the lips +and the love of my little sister who never was born. And I've hurt +Ruth's feelings, and sent her to bed with a heartache, trying to make +her see that it won't do. It won't, Bel! If I can't have genuine love, I +don't want anything. I told her so as plainly as I could find words, and +set her crying, and made her unhappy to end a wonderful day. But in +some way she has got to learn that propinquity, tolerance, approval, +affection, even----is not love. I can't take the risk, after all these +years of waiting for the real thing. If I did, and love never came, I +would end----well, I know how I would end----and that would spoil her +life. I simply have got to brace up, Bel, and keep on trying. She thinks +it is nonsense about thrills, and some wonderful feeling that takes +possession of you. Lord, Bel! There isn't much nonsense about the thing +that rages in my brain, heart, soul, and body. It strikes me as the +gravest reality that ever overtook a man. + +“She is growing wonderfully attached to me. 'Couldn't live without me,' +Bel, that is what she said. Maybe it would be a scheme to bring Granny +here to stay with her, and take a few months in some city this winter +on those chemical points that trouble me. There is an old saying about +'absence making the heart grow fonder.' Maybe separation is the thing to +work the trick. I've tried about everything else I know. + +“But I'm in too much of a hurry! What a fool a man is! A few weeks ago, +Bel, I said to myself that if Harmon were away and had no part in her +life I'd be the happiest man alive. Happiest man alive! Bel, take a look +at me now! Happy! Well, why shouldn't I be happy? She is here. She is +growing in strength and beauty every hour. She cares more for me day +by day. From an outside viewpoint it seems as if I had almost all a man +could ask in reason. But when was a strong man in the grip of love ever +reasonable? I think the Almighty took a pretty grave responsibility when +He made men as He did. If I had been He, and understood the forces I was +handling, I would have been too big a coward to do it. There is nothing +for me, Bel, but to move on doing my level best; and if she doesn't +awaken soon, I will try the absent treatment. As sure as you are the +most faithful dog a man ever owned, Bel, I'll try the absent treatment.” + +The Harvester arose and entered the cabin, stepping softly, for it was +dark in the Girl's room, and he could not hear a sound there. He turned +up the lights in the living-room. As he did so the first thing he saw +was the little trunk. He looked at it intently, then picked up a book. +Every page he turned he glanced again at the trunk. At last he laid +down the book and sat staring, his brain working rapidly. He ended by +carrying the trunk to his room. He darkened the living-room, lighted his +own, drew the rain screens, and piece by piece carefully examined the +contents. There were the pictures, but the name of the photographer had +been removed. There was not a word that would help in identification. He +emptied it to the bottom, and as he picked up the last piece his fingers +struck in a peculiar way that did not give the impression of touching +a solid surface. He felt over it carefully, and when he examined with +a candle he plainly could see where the cloth lining had been cut and +lifted. + +For a long time he knelt staring at it, then he deliberately inserted +his knife blade and raised it. The cloth had been glued to a heavy sheet +of pasteboard the exact size of the trunk bottom. Beneath it lay half a +dozen yellow letters, and face down two tissue-wrapped photographs. The +Harvester examined them first. They were of a man close forty, having +a strong, aggressive face, on which pride and dominant will power were +prominently indicated. The other was a reproduction of a dainty and +delicate woman, with exquisitely tender and gentle features. Long the +Harvester studied them. The names of the photographer and the city were +missing. There was nothing except the faces. He could detect traces +of the man in the poise of the Girl and the carriage of her head, and +suggestions of the woman in the refined sweetness of her expression. +Each picture represented wealth in dress and taste in pose. Finally he +laid them together on the table, picked up one of the letters, and read +it. Then he read all of them. + +Before he finished, tears were running down his cheeks, and his +resolution was formed. These were the appeals of an adoring mother, +crazed with fear for the safety of an only child, who unfortunately +had fallen under the influence of a man the mother dreaded and feared, +because of her knowledge of life and men of his character. They were one +long, impassioned plea for the daughter not to trust a stranger, not +to believe that vows of passion could be true when all else in life was +false, not to trust her untried judgment of men and the world against +the experience of her parents. But whether the tears that stained those +sheets had fallen from the eyes of the suffering mother or the starved +and deserted daughter, there was no way for the Harvester to know. One +thing was clear: It was not possible for him to rest until he knew if +that woman yet lived and bore such suffering. But every trace of address +had been torn away, and there was nothing to indicate where or in what +circumstances these letters had been written. + +A long time the Harvester sat in deep thought. Then he returned all the +letters save one. This with the pictures he made into a packet that he +locked in his desk. The trunk he replaced and then went to bed. Early +the next morning he drove to Onabasha and posted the parcel. The address +it bore was that of the largest detective agency in the country. Then +he bought an interesting book, a box of fruit, and hurried back to the +Girl. He found her on the veranda, Belshazzar stretched close with one +eye shut and the other on his charge, whose cheeks were flushed with +lovely colour as she bent over her drawing material. The Harvester went +to her with a rush, and slipping his fingers under her chin, tilted back +her head against him. + +“Got a kiss for me, honey?” he inquired. + +“No sir,” answered the Girl emphatically. “I gave you a perfectly lovely +one yesterday, and you said it was not right. I am going to try just +once more, and if you say again that it won't do, I'm going back to +Chicago or to my dear Uncle Henry, I haven't decided which.” + +Her lips were smiling, but her eyes were full of tears. + +“Why thank you, Ruth! I think that is wonderful,” said the Harvester. +“I'll risk the next one. In the meantime, excuse me if I give you a +demonstration of the real thing, just to furnish you an idea of how it +should be.” + +The Harvester delivered the sample, and went striding to the marsh. The +dazed Girl sat staring at her work, trying to realize what had happened; +for that was the first time the Harvester had kissed her on the lips, +and it was the material expression a strong man gives the woman he loves +when his heart is surging at high tide. The Girl sat motionless, gazing +at her study. + +In the marsh she knew the Harvester was reaping queen-of-the-meadow, +and around the high borders, elecampane and burdock. She could hear his +voice in snatches of song or cheery whistle; notes that she divined +were intended to keep her from worrying. Intermingled with them came the +dog's bark of defiance as he digged for an escaping chipmunk, his note +of pleading when he wanted a root cut with the mattock, his cry of +discovery when he thought he had found something the Harvester would +like, or his yelp of warning when he scented danger. The Girl looked +down the drive to the lake and across at the hedge. Everywhere she saw +glowing colour, with intermittent blue sky and green leaves, all of it a +complete picture, from which nothing could be spared. She turned slowly +and looked toward the marsh, trying to hear the words of the song above +the ripple of Singing Water, and to see the form of the man. Slowly +she lifted her handkerchief and pressed it against her lips, as she +whispered in an awed voice, + +“My gracious Heaven, is THAT the kind of a kiss he is expecting me to +give HIM? Why, I couldn't----not to save my life.” + +She placed her brushes in water, set the colour box on the paper, and +went to the kitchen to prepare the noon lunch. As she worked the soft +colour deepened in her cheeks, a new light glowed in her eyes, and she +hummed over the tune that floated across the marsh. She was very busy +when the Harvester came, but he spoke casually of his morning's work, +ate heartily, and ordered her to take a nap while he washed roots and +filled the trays, and then they went to the woods together for the +afternoon. + +In the evening they came home to the cabin and finished the day's +work. As the night was chilly, the Harvester heaped some bark in the +living-room fireplace, and lay on the rug before it, while the Girl sat +in an easy chair and watched him as he talked. He was telling her about +some wonderful combinations he was going to compound for different +ailments and he laughingly asked her if she wanted to be a millionaire's +wife and live in a palace. + +“Of course I could if I wanted to!” she suggested. + +“You could!” cried the Harvester. “All that is necessary is to combine +a few proper drugs in one great remedy and float it. That is easy! The +people will do the remainder.” + +“You talk as if you believe that,” marvelled the Girl. + +“Want it proven?” challenged the Harvester. + +“No!” she cried in swift alarm. “What do we want with more than we have? +What is there necessary to happiness that is not ours now? Maybe it is +true that the 'love of money is the root of all evil.' Don't you ever +get a lot just to find out. You said the night I came here that you +didn't want more than you had and now I don't. I won't have it! It +might bring restlessness and discontent. I've seen it make other people +unhappy and separate them. I don't want money, I want work. You make +your remedies and offer them to suffering humanity for just a living +profit, and I'll keep house and draw designs. I am perfectly happy, +free, and unspeakably content. I never dreamed that it was possible for +me to be so glad, and so filled with the joy of life. There is only one +thing on earth I want. If I only could----” + +“Could what, Ruth?” + +“Could get that kiss right----” + +The Harvester laughed. + +“Forget it, I tell you!” he commanded. “Just so long as you worry and +fret, so long I've got to wait. If you quit thinking about it, all +'unbeknownst' to yourself you'll awake some morning with it on your +lips. I can see traces of it growing stronger every day. Very soon now +it's going to materialize, and then get out of my way, for I'll be a +whirling, irresponsible lunatic, with the wild joy of it. Oh I've got +faith in that kiss of yours, Ruth! It's on the way. The fates have +booked it. There isn't a reason on earth why I should be served so +scurvy a trick as to miss it, and I never will believe that I shall----” + +“David,” interrupted the Girl, “go on talking and don't move a muscle, +just reach over presently and fix the fire or something, and then turn +naturally and look at the window beside your door.” + +“Shall miss it,” said the Harvester steadily. “That would be too +unmerciful. What do you see, Ruth?” + +“A face. If I am not greatly mistaken, it is my Uncle Henry and he +appears like a perfect fiend. Oh David, I am afraid!” + +“Be quiet and don't look,” said the Harvester. + +He turned and tossed a piece of bark on the fire. Then he reached for +the poker, pushed it down and stirred the coals. He arose as he worked. + +“Rise slowly and quietly and go to your room. Stay there until I call +you.” + +With the Girl out of the way, the Harvester pottered over the fire, and +when the flame leaped he lifted a stick of wood, hesitated as if it were +too small, and laying it down, started to bring a larger one. In the +dining-room he caught a small stick from the wood box, softly stepped +from the door, and ran around the house. But he awakened Belshazzar on +the kitchen floor, and the dog barked and ran after him. By the time the +Harvester reached the corner of his room the man leaped upon a horse and +went racing down the drive. The Harvester flung the stick of wood, but +missed the man and hit the horse. The dog sprang past the Harvester and +vanished. There was the sound and flash of a revolver, and the rattle +of the bridge as the horse crossed it. The dog came back unharmed. The +Harvester ran to the telephone, called the Onabasha police, and asked +them to send a mounted man to meet the intruder before he could reach a +cross road; but they were too slow and missed him. However, the Girl was +certain she had recognized her uncle, and was extremely nervous; but the +Harvester only laughed and told her it was a trip made out of curiosity. +Her uncle wanted to see if he could learn if she were well and happy, +and he finally convinced her that this was the case, although he was not +very sanguine himself. + +For the next three days the Harvester worked in the woods and he kept +the Girl with him every minute. By the end of that time he really had +persuaded himself that it was merely curiosity. So through the cooling +fall days they worked together. They were very happy. Before her +wondering eyes the Harvester hung queer branches, burs, nuts, berries, +and trailing vines with curious seed pods. There were masses of +brilliant flowers, most of them strange to the Girl, many to the great +average of humanity. While she sat bending over them, beside her the +Harvester delved in the black earth of the woods, or the clay and sand +of the open hillside, or the muck of the lake shore, and lifted large +bagfuls of roots that he later drenched on the floating raft on the +lake, and when they had drained he dried them. Some of them he did not +wet, but scraped and wiped clean and dry. Often after she was sleeping, +and long before she awoke in the morning, he was at work carry-ing +heaped trays from the evaporator to the store-room, and tying the roots, +leaves, bark, and seeds into packages. + +While he gathered trillium roots the Girl made drawings of the plant +and learned its commercial value. She drew lady's slipper and Solomon's +seal, and learned their uses and prices; and carefully traced wild +ginger leaves while nibbling the aromatic root. It was difficult to keep +from protesting when the work carried them around the lake shore and +to the pokeberry beds, for the colour of these she loved. It required +careful explanation as to the value of the roots and seeds as blood +purifier, and the argument that in a few more days the frost would level +the bed, to induce her to consent to its harvesting. But when the +case was properly presented, she put aside her drawing and stained her +slender fingers gathering the seeds, and loved the work. + +The sun was golden on the lake, the birds of the upland were clustering +over reeds and rushes, for the sake of plentiful seed and convenient +water. Many of them sang fitfully, the notes of almost all of them were +melodious, and the day was a long, happy dream. There was but little +left to gather until ginseng time. For that the Harvester had engaged +several boys to help him, for the task of digging the roots, washing and +drying them, burying part of the seeds and preparing the remainder +for market seemed endless for one man to attempt. After a full day the +Harvester lay before the fire, and his head was so close the Girl's knee +that her fingers were in reach of his hair. Every time he mended the +fire he moved a little, until he could feel the touch of her garments +against him. Then he began to plan for the winter; how they would store +food for the long, cold days, how much fuel would be required, when they +would go to the city for their winter clothing, what they would read, +and how they would work together at the drawings. + +“I am almost too anxious to wait longer to get back to my carving,” he +said. “Whoever would have thought this spring that fall would come +and find the birds talking of going, the caterpillars spinning winter +quarters, the animals holing up, me getting ready for the cold, and your +candlesticks not finished. Winter is when you really need them. Then +there is solid cheer in numbers of candles and a roaring wood fire. The +furnace is going to be a good thing to keep the floors and the bathroom +warm, but an open fire of dry, crackling wood is the only rational +source of heat in a home. You must watch for the fairy dances on the +backwall, Ruth, and learn to trace goblin faces in the coals. Sometimes +there is a panorama of temples and trees, and you will find exquisite +colour in the smoke. Dry maple makes a lovely lavender, soft and fine as +a floating veil, and damp elm makes a blue, and hickory red and yellow. +I almost can tell which wood is burning after the bark is gone, by the +smoke and flame colour. When the little red fire fairies come out and +dance on the backwall it is fun to figure what they are celebrating. By +the way, Ruth, I have been a lamb for days. I hope you have observed! +But I would sleep a little sounder to-night if you only could give me a +hint whether that kiss is coming on at all.” + +He tipped back his head to see her face, and it was glorious in the red +firelight; the big eyes never appeared so deep and dark. The tilted head +struck her hand, and her fingers ran through his hair. + +“You said to forget it,” she reminded him, “and then it would come +sooner.” + +“Which same translated means that it is not here yet. Well, I didn't +expect it, so I am not disappointed; but begorry, I do wish it would +materialize by Christmas. I think I will work for that. Wouldn't it make +a day worth while, though? By the way, what do you want for Christmas, +Ruth?” + +“A doll,” she answered. + +The Harvester laughed. He tipped his head again to see her face and +suddenly grew quiet, for it was very serious. + +“I am quite in earnest,” she said. “I think the big dolls in the stores +are beautiful, and I never owned only a teeny little one. All my life +I've wanted a big doll as badly as I ever longed for anything that was +not absolutely necessary to keep me alive. In fact, a doll is essential +to a happy childhood. The mother instinct is so ingrained in a girl that +if she doesn't have dolls to love, even as a baby, she is deprived of a +part of her natural rights. It's a pitiful thing to have been the little +girl in the picture who stands outside the window and gazes with longing +soul at the doll she is anxious to own and can't ever have. Harvester, +I was always that little girl. I am quite in earnest. I want a big, +beautiful doll more than anything else.” + +As she talked the Girl's fingers were idly threading the Harvester's +hair. His head lightly touched her knee, and she shifted her position +to afford him a comfortable resting place. With a thrill of delight that +shook him, the man laid his head in her lap and looked into the fire, +his face glowing as a happy boy's. + +“You shall have the loveliest doll that money can buy, Ruth,” he +promised. “What else do you want?” + +“A roasted goose, plum pudding, and all those horrid indigestible things +that Christmas stories always tell about; and popcorn balls, and candy, +and everything I've always wanted and never had, and a long beautiful +day with you. That's all!” + +“Ruth, I'm so happy I almost wish I could go to Heaven right now before +anything occurs to spoil this,” said the Harvester. + +The wheels of a car rattled across the bridge. He whirled to his knees, +and put his arms around the Girl. + +“Ruth,” he said huskily. “I'll wager a thousand dollars I know what is +coming. Hug me tight, quick! and give me the best kiss you can----any +old kind of a one, so you touch my lips with yours before I've got to +open that door and let in trouble.” + +The Girl threw her arms around his neck and with the imprint of her lips +warm on his the Harvester crossed the room, and his heart dropped from +the heights with a thud. He stepped out, closing the door behind him, +and crossing the veranda, passed down the walk. He recognized the car +as belonging to a garage in Onabasha, and in it sat two men, one of whom +spoke. + +“Are you David Langston?” + +“Yes,” said the Harvester. + +“Did you send a couple of photographs to a New York detective agency a +few days ago with inquiries concerning some parties you wanted located?” + +“I did,” said the Harvester. “But I was not expecting any such immediate +returns.” + +“Your questions touched on a case that long has been in the hands of the +agency, and they telegraphed the parties. The following day the people +had a letter, giving them the information they required, from another +source.” + +“That is where Uncle Henry showed his fine Spencerian hand,” commented +the Harvester. “It always will be a great satisfaction that I got my +fist in first.” + +“Is Miss Jameson here?” + +“No,” said the Harvester. “My wife is at home. Her surname was Ruth +Jameson, but we have been married since June. Did you wish to speak with +Mrs. Langston?” + +“I came for that purpose. My name is Kennedy. I am the law partner and +the closest friend of the young lady's grandfather. News of her location +has prostrated her grandmother so that he could not leave her, and I was +sent to bring the young woman.” + +“Oh!” said the Harvester. “Well you will have to interview her about +that. One word first. She does not know that I sent those pictures and +made that inquiry. One other word. She is just recovering from a case of +fever, induced by wrong conditions of life before I met her. She is not +so strong as she appears. Understand you are not to be abrupt. Go very +gently! Her feelings and health must be guarded with extreme care.” + +The Harvester opened the door, and as she saw the stranger, the Girl's +eyes widened, and she arose and stood waiting. + +“Ruth,” said the Harvester, “this is a man who has been making quite a +search for you, and at last he has you located.” + +The Harvester went to the Girl's side, and put a reinforcing arm around +her. + +“Perhaps he brings you some news that will make life most interesting +and very lovely for you. Will you shake hands with Mr. Kennedy?” + +The Girl suddenly straightened to unusual height. + +“I will hear why he has been making 'quite a search for me,' and on +whose authority he has me 'located,' first,” she said. + +A diabolical grin crossed the face of the Harvester, and he took heart. + +“Then please be seated, Mr. Kennedy,” he said, “and we will talk over +the matter. As I understand, you are a representative of my wife's +people.” + +The Girl stared at the Harvester. + +“Take your chair, Ruth, and meet this as a matter of course,” he +advised casually. “You always have known that some day it must come. +You couldn't look in the face of those photographs of your mother in her +youth and not realize that somewhere hearts were aching and breaking, +and brains were busy in a search for her.” + +The Girl stood rigid. + +“I want it distinctly understood,” she said, “that I have no use on +earth for my mother's people. They come too late. I absolutely refuse to +see or to hold any communication with them.” + +“But young lady, that is very arbitrary!” cried Mr. Kennedy. “You don't +understand! They are a couple of old people, and they are slowly dying +of broken hearts!” + +“Not so badly broken or they wouldn't die slowly,” commented the Girl +grimly. “The heart that was really broken was my mother's. The torture +of a starved, overworked body and hopeless brain was hers. There was +nothing slow about her death, for she went out with only half a life +spent, and much of that in acute agony, because of their negligence. +David, you often have said that this is my home. I choose to take you at +your word. Will you kindly tell this man that he is not welcome in this +house, and I wish him to leave it at once?” + +The Harvester stepped back, and his face grew very white. + +“I can't, Ruth,” he said gently. + +“Why not?” + +“Because I brought him here.” + +“You brought him here! You! David, are you crazy? You!” + +“It is through me that he came.” + +The Girl caught the mantel for support. + +“Then I stand alone again,” she said. “Harvester, I had thought you were +on my side.” + +“I am at your feet,” said the man in a broken voice. “Ruth dear, will +you let me explain?” + +“There is only one explanation, and with what you have done for me fresh +in my mind, I can't put it into words.” + +“Ruth, hear me!” + +“I must! You force me! But before you speak understand this: Not now, or +through all eternity, do I forgive the inexcusable neglect that drove my +mother to what I witnessed and was helpless to avert.” + +“My dear! My dear!” said the Harvester, “I had hoped the woods had done +a more perfect work in your heart. Your mother is lying in state now, +Girl, safe from further suffering of any kind; and if I read aright, her +tired face and shrivelled frame were eloquent of forgiveness. Ruth dear, +if she so loved them that her heart was broken and she died for them, +think what they are suffering! Have some mercy on them.” + +“Get this very clear, David,” said the Girl. “She died of hunger +for food. Her heart was not so broken that she couldn't have lived a +lifetime, and got much comfort out of it, if her body had not lacked +sustenance. Oh I was so happy a minute ago. David, why did you do this +thing?” + +The Harvester picked up the Girl, placed her in a chair, and knelt +beside her with his arms around her. + +“Because of the PAIN IN THE WORLD, Ruth,” he said simply. “Your mother +is sleeping sweetly in the long sleep that knows neither anger nor +resentment; and so I was forced to think of a gentle-faced, little +old mother whose heart is daily one long ache, whose eyes are dim with +tears, and a proud, broken old man who spends his time trying to comfort +her, when his life is as desolate as hers.” + +“How do you know so wonderfully much about their aches and broken +hearts?” + +“Because I have seen their faces when they were happy, Ruth, and so I +know what suffering would do to them. There were pictures of them and +letters in the bottom of that old trunk. I searched it the other night +and found them; and by what life has done to your mother and to you, I +can judge what it is now bringing them. Never can you be truly happy, +Ruth, until you have forgiven them, and done what you can to comfort the +remainder of their lives. I did it because of the pain in the world, my +girl.” + +“What about my pain?” + +“The only way on earth to cure it is through forgiveness. That, and that +only, will ease it all away, and leave you happy and free for life and +love. So long as you let this rancour eat in your heart, Ruth, you are +not, and never can be, normal. You must forgive them, dear, hear what +they have to say, and give them the comfort of seeing what they can +discover of her in you. Then your heart will be at rest at last, your +soul free, you can take your rightful place in life, and the love +you crave will awaken in your heart. Ruth, dear you are the acme of +gentleness and justice. Be just and gentle now! Give them their chance! +My heart aches, and always will ache for the pain you have known, but +nursing and brooding over it will not cure it. It is going to take a +heroic operation to cut it out, and I chose to be the surgeon. You have +said that I once saved your body from pain Ruth, trust me now to free +your soul.” + +“What do you want?” + +“I want you to speak kindly to this man, who through my act has come +here, and allow him to tell you why he came. Then I want you to do the +kind and womanly thing your duty suggests that you should.” + +“David, I don t understand you!” + +“That is no difference,” said the Harvester. “The point is, do you TRUST +me?” + +The Girl hesitated. “Of course I do,” she said at last. + +“Then hear what your grandfather's friend has come to say for him, and +forget yourself in doing to others as you would have them----really, +Ruth, that is all of religion or of life worth while. Go on, Mr. +Kennedy.” + +The Harvester drew up a chair, seated himself beside the Girl, and +taking one of her hands, he held it closely and waited. + +“I was sent here by my law partner and my closest friend, Mr. Alexander +Herron, of Philadelphia,” said the stranger. “Both he and Mrs. Herron +were bitterly opposed to your mother's marriage, because they knew life +and human nature, and there never is but one end to men such as she +married.” + +“You may omit that,” said the Girl coldly. “Simply state why you are +here.” + +“In response to an inquiry from your husband concerning the originals +of some photographs he sent to a detective agency in New York. They have +had the case for years, and recognizing the pictures as a clue, they +telegraphed Mr. Herron. The prospect of news after years of fruitless +searching so prostrated Mrs. Herron that he dared not leave her, and he +sent me.” + +“Kindly tell me this,” said the Girl. “Where were my mother's father and +mother for the four years immediately following her marriage?” + +“They went to Europe to avoid the humiliation of meeting their friends. +There, in Italy, Mrs. Herron developed a fever, and it was several years +before she could be brought home. She retired from society, and has been +confined to her room ever since. When they could return, a search was +instituted at once for their daughter, but they never have been able to +find a trace. They have hunted through every eastern city they thought +might contain her.” + +“And overlooked a little insignificant place like Chicago, of course.” + +“I myself conducted a personal search there, and visited the home of +every Jameson in the directory or who had mail at the office or of whom +I could get a clue of any sort.” + +“I don't suppose two women in a little garret room would be in the +directory, and there never was any mail.” + +“Did your mother ever appeal to her parents?” + +“She did,” said the Girl. “She admitted that she had been wrong, asked +their forgiveness, and begged to go home. That was in the second year of +her marriage, and she was in Cleveland. Afterward she went to Chicago, +from there she wrote again.” + +“Her father and mother were in Italy fighting for the mother's life, +two years after that. It is very easy to become lost in a large city. +Criminals do it every day and are never found, even with the best +detectives on their trail. I am very sorry about this. My friends will +be broken-hearted. At any time they would have been more than delighted +to have had their daughter return. A letter on the day following the +message from the agency brought news that she was dead, and now their +only hope for any small happiness at the close of years of suffering +lies with you. I was sent to plead with you to return with me at once +and make them a visit. Of course, their home is yours. You are their +only heir, and they would be very happy if you were free, and would +remain permanently with them.” + +“How do they know I will not be like the father they so detested?” + +“They had sufficient cause to dislike him. They have every reason to +love and welcome you. They are consumed with anxiety. Will you come?” + +“No. This is for me to decide. I do not care for them or their property. +Always they have failed me when my distress was unspeakable. Now there +is only one thing I ask of life, more than my husband has given me, and +if that lay in his power I would have it. You may go back and tell them +that I am perfectly happy. I have everything I need. They can give me +nothing I want, not even their love. Perhaps, sometime, I will go to see +them for a few days, if David will go with me.” + +“Young woman, do you realize that you are issuing a death sentence?” + asked the lawyer gently. + +“It is a just one.” + +“I do not believe your husband agrees with you. I know I do not. Mrs. +Herron is a tiny old lady, with a feeble spark of vitality left; and +with all her strength she is clinging to life, and pleading with it to +give her word of her only child before she goes out unsatisfied. She +knows that her daughter is gone, and now her hopes are fastened on you. +If for only a few days, you certainly must go with me.” + +“I will not!” + +The lawyer turned to the Harvester. + +“She will be ready to start with you to-morrow morning, on the first +train north,” said the Harvester. “We will meet you at the station at +eight.” + +“I----I am afraid I forgot to tell my driver to wait.” + +“You mean your instructions were not to let the Girl out of your sight,” + said the Harvester. “Very well! We have comfortable rooms. I will show +you to one. Please come this way.” + +The Harvester led the guest to the lake room and arranged for the night. +Then he went to the telephone and sent a message to an address he had +been furnished, asking for an immediate reply. It went to Philadelphia +and contained a description of the lawyer, and asked if he had been +sent by Mr. Herron to escort his grand-daughter to his home. When the +Harvester returned to the living-room the Girl, white and defiant, +waited before the fire. He knelt beside her and put his arms around her, +but she repulsed him; so he sat on the rug and looked at her. + +“No wonder you felt sure you knew what that was!” she cried bitterly. + +“Ruth, if you will allow me to lift the bottom of that old trunk, and if +you will read any one of the half dozen letters I read, you will forgive +me, and begin making preparations to go.” + +“It's a wonder you don't hold them before me and force me to read them,” + she said. + +“Don't say anything you will be sorry for after you are gone, dear.” + +“I'm not going!” + +“Oh yes you are!” + +“Why?” + +“Because it is right that you should, and right is inexorable. Also, +because I very much wish you to; you will do it for me.” + +“Why do you want me to go?” + +“I have three strong reasons: First, as I told you, it is the only thing +that will cleanse your heart of bitterness and leave it free for the +tenanting of a great and holy love. Next, I think they honestly made +every effort to find your mother, and are now growing old in despair you +can lighten, and you owe it to them and yourself to do it. Lastly, for +my sake. I've tried everything I know, Ruth, and I can't make you love +me, or bring you to a realizing sense of it if you do. So before I saw +that chest I had planned to harvest my big crop, and try with all my +heart while I did it, and if love hadn't come then, I meant to get +some one to stay with you, and I was going away to give you a free +perspective for a time. I meant to plead that I needed a few weeks with +a famous chemist I know to prepare me better for my work. My real motive +was to leave you, and let you see if absence could do anything for me in +your heart. You've been very nearly the creature of my hands for months, +my girl; whatever any one else may do, you're bound to miss me mightily, +and I figured that with me away, perhaps you could solve the problem +alone I seem to fail in helping you with. This is only a slight change +of plans. You are going in my stead. I will harvest the ginseng and +cure it, and then, if you are not at home, and the loneliness grows +unbearable, I will take the chemistry course, until you decide when you +will come, if ever.” + +“'If ever?'” + +“Yes,” said the Harvester. “I am growing accustomed to facing big +propositions----I will not dodge this. The faces of the three of your +people I have seen prove refinement. Their clothing indicates wealth. +These long, lonely years mean that they will shower you with every +outpouring of loving, hungry hearts. They will keep you if they can, my +dear. I do not blame them. The life I propose for you is one of work, +mostly for others, and the reward, in great part, consists of the joy in +the soul of the creator of things that help in the world. I realize that +you will find wealth, luxury, and lavish love. I know that I may lose +you forever, and if it is right and best for you, I hope I will. I know +exactly what I am risking, but I yet say, go.” + +“I don't see how you can, and love me as you prove you do.” + +“That is a little streak of the inevitableness of nature that the forest +has ground into my soul. I'd rather cut off my right hand than take +yours with it, in the parting that will come in the morning; but you are +going, and I am sending you. So long as I am shaped like a human being, +it is in me to dignify the possession of a vertical spine by acting as +nearly like a man as I know how. I insist that you are my wife, because +it crucifies me to think otherwise. I tell you to-night, Ruth, you are +not and never have been. You are free as air. You married me without any +love for me in your heart, and you pretended none. It was all my doing. +If I find that I was wrong, I will free you without a thought of results +to me. I am a secondary proposition. I thought then that you were alone +and helpless, and before the Almighty, I did the best I could. But I +know now that you are entitled to the love of relatives, wealth, and +high social position, no doubt. If I allowed the passion in my heart +to triumph over the reason of my brain, and worked on your feelings and +tied you to the woods, without knowing but that you might greatly prefer +that other life you do not know, but to which you are entitled, I would +go out and sink myself in Loon Lake.” + +“David, I love you. I do not want to go. Please, please let me remain +with you.” + +“Not if you could say that realizing what it means, and give me the kiss +right now I would stake my soul to win! Not by any bribe you can think +of or any allurement you can offer. It is right that you go to those +suffering old people. It is right you know what you are refusing for me, +before you renounce it. It is right you take the position to which you +are entitled, until you understand thoroughly whether this suits you +better. When you know that life as well as this, the people you will +meet as intimately as me, then you can decide for all time, and I can +look you in the face with honest, unwavering eye; and if by any chance +your heart is in the woods, and you prefer me and the cabin to what they +have to offer----to all eternity your place here is vacant, Ruth. My +love is waiting for you; and if you come under those conditions, I never +can have any regret. A clear conscience is worth restraining passion a +few months to gain, and besides, I always have got the fact to face that +when you say 'I love,' and when I say 'I love,' it means two entirely +different things. When you realize that the love of man for woman, and +woman for man, is a thing that floods the heart, brain, soul, and body +with a wonderful and all-pervading ecstasy, and if I happen to be the +man who makes you realize it, then come tell me, and we will show +God and His holy angels what earth means by the Heaven inspired word, +'radiance.'” + +“David, there never will be any other man like you.” + +“The exigencies of life must develop many a finer and better.” + +“You still refuse me? You yet believe I do not love you?” + +“Not with the love I ask, my girl. But if I did not believe it was +germinating in your heart, and that it would come pouring over me in a +torrent some glad day, I doubt if I could allow you to go, Ruth! I am +like any other man in selfishness and in the passions of the body.” + +“Selfishness! You haven't an idea what it means,” said the Girl. “And +what you call love----there I haven't. But I know how to appreciate you, +and you may be positively sure that it will be only a few days until I +will come back to you.” + +“But I don't want you until you can bring the love I crave. I am sending +you to remain until that time, Ruth.” + +“But it may be months, Man!” + +“Then stay months.” + +“But it may be----” + +“It may be never! Then remain forever. That will be proof positive that +your happiness does not lie in my hands.” + +“Why should I not consider you as you do me?” + +“Because I love you, and you do not love me.” + +“You are cruel to yourself and to me. You talk about the pain in the +world. What about the pain in my heart right now? And if I know you in +the least, one degree more would make you cry aloud for mercy. Oh David, +are we of no consideration at all?” + +The muscles of the Harvester's face twisted an instant. + +“This is where we lop off the small branches to grow perfect fruit +later. This is where we do evil that good may result. This is where +we suffer to-night in order we may appreciate fully the joy of love's +dawning. If I am causing you pain, forgive me, dear heart. I would give +my life to prevent it, but I am powerless. It is right! We cannot avoid +doing it, if we ever would be happy.” + +He picked up the Girl, and held her crushed in his arms a long time. +Then he set her inside her door and said, “Lay out what you want to take +and I will help you pack, so that you can get some sleep. We must be +ready early in the morning.” + +When the clothing to be worn was selected, the new trunk packed, and all +arrangements made, the Girl sat in his arms before the fire as he had +held her when she was ill, and then he sent her to bed and went to +the lake shore to fight it out alone. Only God and the stars and the +faithful Belshazzar saw the agony of a strong man in his extremity. + +Near dawn he heard the tinkle of the bell and went to receive his +message and order a car for morning. Then he returned to the merciful +darkness of night, and paced the driveway until light came peeping over +the tree tops. He prepared breakfast and an hour later put the Girl on +the train, and stood watching it until the last rift of smoke curled +above the spires of the city. + + + +CHAPTER XX. THE MAN IN THE BACKGROUND + +Then the Harvester returned to Medicine Woods to fight his battle alone. +At first the pain seemed unendurable, but work always had been his +panacea, it was his salvation now. He went through the cabin, folding +bedding and storing it in closets, rolling rugs sprinkled with powdered +alum, packing cushions, and taking window seats from the light. + +“Our sleeping room and the kitchen will serve for us, Bel,” he said. “We +will put all these other things away carefully, so they will be as good +as new when the Girl comes home.” + +The evening of the second day he was called to the telephone. + +“There is a telegram for you,” said a voice. “A message from +Philadelphia. It reads: 'Arrived safely. Thank you for making me come. +Dear old people. Will write soon. With love, Ruth.' + +“Have you got it?” + +“No,” lied the Harvester, grinning rapturously. “Repeat it again slowly, +and give me time after each sentence to write it. Now! Go on!” + +He carried the message to the back steps and sat reading it again and +again. + +“I supposed I'd have to wait at least four days,” he said to Ajax as the +bird circled before him. “This is from the Girl, old man, and she is +not forgetting us to begin with, anyway. She is there all safe, she sees +that they need her, they are lovable old people, she is going to write +us all about it soon, and she loves us all she knows how to love any +one. That should be enough to keep us sane and sensible until her letter +comes. There is no use to borrow trouble, so we will say everything in +the world is right with us, and be as happy as we can on that until we +find something we cannot avoid worrying over. In the meantime, we will +have faith to believe that we have suffered our share, and the end will +be happy for all of us. I am mighty glad the Girl has a home, and the +right kind of people to care for her. Now, when she comes back to me, I +needn't feel that she was forced, whether she wanted to or not, because +she had nowhere to go. This will let me out with a clean conscience, and +that is the only thing on earth that allows a man to live in peace with +himself. Now I'll go finish everything else, and then I'll begin the +ginseng harvest.” + +So the Harvester hitched Betsy and with Belshazzar at his feet he drove +through the woods to the sarsaparilla beds. He noticed the beautiful +lobed leaves, at which the rabbits had been nibbling, and the heads of +lustrous purple-black berries as he began digging the roots that he sold +for stimulants. + +“I might have needed a dose of you now myself,” the Harvester addressed +a heap of uprooted plants, “if the electric wires hadn't brought me a +better. Great invention that! Never before realized it fully! I thought +to-day would be black as night, but that message changes the complexion +of affairs mightily. So I'll dig you for people who really are in need +of something to brace them up.” + +After the sarsaparilla was on the trays, he attacked the beds of Indian +hemp, with its long graceful pods, and took his usual supply. Then he +worked diligently on the warm hillside over the dandelion. When these +were finished he brought half a dozen young men from the city and +drilled them on handling ginseng. He was warm, dirty, and tired when he +came from the beds the evening of the fourth day. He finished his work +at the barn, prepared and ate his supper, slipped into clean clothing, +and walked to the country road where it crossed the lane. There he +opened his mail box. The letter he expected with the Philadelphia +postmark was inside. He carried it to the bridge, and sitting in her +favourite place, with the lake breeze threading his hair, opened his +first letter from the Girl. + +“My dear Friend, Lover, Husband,” it began. + +The Harvester turned the sheets face down across his knee, laid his hand +on them, and stared meditatively at the lake. “'Friend,'” he commented. +“Well, that's all right! I am her friend, as well as I know how to be. +'Lover.' I come in there, full force. I did my level best on that score, +though I can't boast myself a howling success; a man can't do more +than he knows, and if I had been familiar with all the wiles of expert, +professional love-makers, they wouldn't have availed me in the Girl's +condition. I had a mighty peculiar case to handle in her, and not a +particle of training. But if she says 'Lover,' I must have made some +kind of a showing on the job. 'Husband.'” A slow flush crept up the +brawny neck and tinged the bronzed face. “That's a good word,” said +the Harvester, “and it must mean a wonderful thing----to some men. 'Who +bides his time.' Well, I'm 'biding,' and if my time ever comes to be my +Dream Girl's husband, I'll wager all I'm worth on one thing. I'll study +the job from every point of the compass, and I'll see what showing I can +make on being the kind of a husband that a woman clings to and loves at +eighty.” + +Taking a deep breath the Harvester lifted the letter, and laying one +hand on Belshazzar's head, he proceeded----“I might as well admit in the +beginning that I cried most of the way here. Some of it was because I +was nervous and dreaded the people I would meet, and more on account of +what I felt toward them, but most of it was because I did not want to +leave you. I have been spoiled dreadfully! You have taught me so to +depend on you----and for once I feel that I really can claim to have +been an apt pupil----that it was like having the heart torn out of me to +come. I want you to know this, because it will teach you that I have +a little bit of appreciation of how good you are to me, and to all the +world as well. I am glad that I almost cried myself sick over leaving +you. I wish now I just had stood up in the car, and roared like a burned +baby. + +“But all the tears I shed in fear of grandfather and grandmother were +wasted. They are a couple of dear old people, and it would have been a +crime to allow them to suffer more than they must of necessity. It all +seems so different when they talk; and when I see the home, luxuries, +and friends my mother had, it appears utterly incomprehensible that she +dared leave them for a stranger. Probably the reason she did was because +she was grandfather's daughter. He is gentle and tender some of the +time, but when anything irritates him, and something does every few +minutes, he breaks loose, and such another explosion you never heard. It +does not mean a thing, and it seems to lower his tension enough to keep +him from bursting with palpitation of the heart or something, but it is +a strain for others. At first it frightened me dreadfully. Grandmother +is so tiny and frail, so white in her big bed, and when he is the very +worst, and she only smiles at him, why I know he does not mean it at +all. But, David, I hope you never will get an idea that this would be +a pleasant way for you to act, because it would not, and I never would +have the courage to offer you the love I have come to find if you +slammed a cane and yelled, 'demnation,' at me. Grandmother says she does +not mind at all, but I wonder if she did not acquire the habit of lying +in bed because it is easier to endure in a prostrate position. + +“The house is so big I get lost, and I do not know yet which are +servants and which friends; and there is a steady stream of seamstresses +and milliners making things for me. Grandmother and father both think I +will be quite passable in appearance when I am what they call 'modishly +dressed.' I think grandmother will forget herself some day and leave her +bed before she knows it, in her eagerness to see how something appears. +I could not begin to tell you about all the lovely things to wear, for +every occasion under the sun, and they say these are only temporary, +until some can be made especially for me. + +“They divide the time in sections, and there is an hour to drive, I am +to have a horse and ride later, and a time to shop, so long to visit +grandmother, and set hours to sleep, dress, to be fitted, taken to see +things, music lessons, and a dancing teacher. I think a longer day will +have to be provided. + +“I do not care anything about dancing. I know what would make me dance +nicely enough for anything, but I am going to try the music, and see if +I can learn just a few little songs and some old melodies for evening, +when the work is done, the fire burns low, and you are resting on the +rug. There is enough room for a piano between your door and the south +wall and that corner seems vacant anyway. You would like it, David, I +know, if I could play and sing just enough to put you to sleep nicely. +It is in the back of my head that I will try to do every single thing, +just as they want me to, and that will make them happy, but never forget +that the instant I feel in my soul that your kiss is right on my lips, +I am coming to you by lightning express; and I told them so the first +thing, and that I only came because you made me. + +“They did not raise an objection, but I am not so dull that I cannot see +they are trying to bind me to them from the very first with chains too +strong to break. We had just one little clash. Grandfather was mightily +pleased over what you told Mr. Kennedy about my never having been your +wife, and that I was really free. There seems to be a man, the son +of his partner, whom grandfather dearly loves, and he wants me to +be friends with his friend. One can see at once what he is planning, +because he said he was going to introduce me as Miss Jameson. I told +him that would be creating a false impression, because I was a married +woman; but he only laughed at me and went straight to doing it. + +“Of course, I know why, but he is so terribly set I cannot stop him, so +I shall have to tell people myself that I am a staid, old married lady. +After all, I suppose I might as well let him go, if it pleases him. I +shall know how to protect myself and any one else, from any mistakes +concerning me; and in my heart I know what I know, and what I cannot +make you believe, but I will some day. + +“I suspect you're harvesting the ginseng now. The roar and rush of the +city seem strange, as if I never had heard it before, and I feel so +crowded. I scarcely can sleep at night for the clamour of the cars, +cabs, and throbbing life. Grandfather will not hear a word, and he just +sputters and says 'demnation' when I try to tell him about you; but +grandmother will listen, and I talk to her of you and Medicine Woods by +the hour. She says she thinks you must be a wonderfully nice person. I +haven't dared tell her yet the thing that will win her. She is so little +and frail, and she has heart trouble so badly; but some day I shall +tell her all about Chicago that I can, and then of Uncle Henry, and then +about you and the oak, and that will make her love you as I do. There +are so many things to do; they have sent for me three times. I shall +tell them they must put you on the schedule, and give me so much time to +write or I will upset the whole programme. + +“I think you will like to know that Mr. Kennedy told grandfather all you +said to him about my illness, for almost as soon as I came he brought +a very wonderful man to my room, and he asked many questions and I +told him all about it, and what I had been doing. He made out a list of +things to eat and exercises. I am being taken care of just as you did, +so I will go on growing well and strong. The trouble is they are too +good to me. I would just love to shuffle my feet in dead leaves, and lie +on the grass this morning. I never got my swim in the lake. I will have +to save that until next summer. He also told grandfather what you said +about Uncle Henry, and I think he was pleased that you tried to find him +as soon as you knew. He let me see the letter Uncle Henry wrote, and it +was a vile thing----just such as he would write. It asked how much he +would be willing to pay for information concerning his heir. I told +grandfather all about it, and I saw the answer he wrote. I told him some +things to say, and one of them was that the honesty of a man without +a price prevented the necessity of anything being paid to find me. The +other was that you located my people yourself, and at once sent me to +them against my wishes. I was determined he should know that. So Uncle +Henry missed his revenge on you. He evidently thought he not only would +hurt you by breaking up your home and separating us, but also he would +get a reward for his work. He wrote some untrue things about you, and I +wish he hadn't, for grandfather can think of enough himself. But I will +soon change that. Please, please take good care of all my things, my +flowers and vines, and most of all tell Belshazzar to protect you with +his life. And you be very good to my dear, dear lover. I will write +again soon, Ruth.” + +When the Harvester had studied the letter until he could repeat +it backward, he went to the cabin and answered it. Then he sent +subscriptions for two of Philadelphia's big dailies, and harvested +ginseng from dawn until black darkness. Never was such a crop grown in +America. The beds had been made in the original home of the plant, so +that it throve under perfectly natural conditions in the forest, but +here and there branches had been thinned above, and nature helped by +science below. This resulted in thick, pulpy roots of astonishing size +and weight. As the Harvester lifted them he bent the tops and buried +part of the seed for another crop. For weeks he worked over the bed. +Then the last load went down the hill to the dry-house and the helpers +were paid. Next the fall work was finished. Fuel and food were stored +for winter, while the cold crept from the lake, swept down the hill and +surrounded the cabin. + +The Harvester finished long days in the dry-house and store-room, and +after supper he sat by the fire reading over the Girl's letters, carving +on her candlesticks, or in the work room, bending above the boards he +was shaving and polishing for a gift he had planned for her Christmas. +The Careys had him in their home for Thanksgiving. He told them all +about sending the Girl away himself, read them some of her letters, and +they talked with perfect confidence of how soon she would come home. +The Harvester tried to think confidently, but as the days went by the +letters became fewer, always with the excuse that there was no time to +write, but with loving assurance that she was thinking of him and would +do better soon. + +However they came often enough that he had something new to tell his +friends so that they did not suspect that waiting was a trial to him. A +few days after Thanksgiving the gift that he had planned was finished. +It was a big, burl-maple box, designed after the hope chests that he saw +advertised in magazines. The wood was rare, cut in heavy slabs, polished +inside and out, dove-tailed corners with ornate brass bindings, hinges +and lock, and hand-carved feet. On the inside of the lid cut on a brass +plate was the inscription, “Ruth Langston, Christmas of Nineteen Hundred +and Ten. David.” + +Then he began packing the chest. He put in the finished candlesticks +and a box of candleberry dips he had made of delightfully spiced wax, +coloured pale green. He ordered the doll weeks before from the largest +store in Onabasha, and the dealer brought on several that he might make +a selection. He chose a large baby doll almost life size, and sent it +to the dress-making department to be completely and exquisitely clothed. +Long before the day he was picking kernels to glaze from nuts, drying +corn to pop, and planning candies to be made of maple sugar. When he +figured it was time to start the box, he worked carefully, filling +spaces with chestnut and hazel burs, and finishing the tops of +boxes with gaudy red and yellow leaves he had kept in their original +brightness by packing them in sand. He put in scarlet berries of +mountain ash and long twining sprays of yellow and red bitter-sweet +berries, for her room. Then he carefully covered the chest with cloth, +packed it in an outside box, and sent it to the Girl by express. As he +came from the train shed, where he had helped with loading, he met Henry +Jameson. Instantly the long arm of the Harvester shot out, and in a grip +that could not be broken he caught the man by the back of the neck and +proceeded to dangle him. As he did so he roared with laughter. + +“Dear Uncle Henry!” he cried. “How did you feel when you got your letter +from Philadelphia? Wasn't it a crime that an honest man, which same +refers to me, beat you? Didn't you gnash your teeth when you learned +that instead of separating me from my wife I had found her people and +sent her to them myself? Didn't it rend your soul to miss your little +revenge and fail to get the good, fat reward you confidently expected? +Ho! Ho! Thus are lofty souls downcast. I pity you, Henry Jameson, but +not so much that I won't break your back if you meddle in my affairs +again, and I am taking this opportunity to tell you so. Here you go out +of my life, for if you appear in it once more I will finish you like a +copperhead. Understand?” + +With a last shake the Harvester dropped him, and went into the express +office, where several men had watched the proceedings. + +“Been dipping in your affairs, has he?” asked the expressman. + +“Trying it,” laughed the Harvester. + +“Well he is just moving to Idaho, and you probably won't be bothered +with him any more.” + +“Good news!” said the Harvester. He felt much relieved as he went back +to Betsy and drove to Medicine Woods. + +The Careys had invited him, but he chose to spend Christmas alone. He +had finished breakfast when the telephone bell rang, and the expressman +told him there was a package for him from Philadelphia. The Harvester +mounted Betsy and rode to the city at once. The package was so very +small he slipped it into his pocket, and went to the doctor's to say +Merry Christmas! To Mrs. Carey he gave a pretty lavender silk dress, and +to the doctor a new watch chain. Then he went to the hospital, where +he left with Molly a set of china dishes from the Girl, and a fur-lined +great coat, his gift to Doctor Harmon. He rode home and stabled Betsy, +giving her an extra quart of oats, and going into the house he sat by +the kitchen fire and opened the package. + +In a nest of cotton lay a tissue-wrapped velvet box, and inside that, in +a leather pocket case, an ivory miniature of the Girl by an artist who +knew how to reproduce life. It was an exquisite picture, and a face +of wonderful beauty. He looked at it for a long time, and then called +Belshazzar and carried it out to show Ajax. Then he put it into his +breast pocket squarely over his heart, but he wore the case shiny the +first day taking it out. Before noon he went to the mail box and found +a long letter from the Girl, full of life, health, happiness, and with +steady assurances of love for him, but there was no mention made of +coming home. + +She seemed engrossed in the music lessons, riding, dancing, pretty +clothing, splendid balls, receptions, and parties of all kinds. The +Harvester answered it with his heart full of love for her, and then +waited. It was a long week before the reply came, and then it was short +on account of so many things that must be done, but she insisted that +she was well, happy, and having a fine time. After that the letters +became less frequent and shorter. At times there would be stretches of +almost two weeks with not a line, and then only short notes to explain +that she was too busy to write. + +Through the dreary, cold days of January and February the Harvester +invented work in the store-room, in the workshop, at the candlesticks, +sat long over great books, and spent hours in the little laboratory +preparing and compounding drugs. In the evenings he carved and read. +First of all he scanned the society columns of the papers he was taking, +and almost every day he found the name of Miss Ruth Jameson, often +a paragraph describing her dress and her beauty of face and charm of +manner; and constantly the name of Mr. Herbert Kennedy appeared as her +escort. At first the Harvester ignored this, and said to himself that +he was glad she could have enjoyable times and congenial friends, and +he was. But as the letters became fewer, paper paragraphs more frequent, +and approaching spring worked its old insanity in the blood, gradually +an ache crept into his heart again, and there were days when he could +not work it out. + +Every letter she wrote he answered just as warmly as he felt that he +dared, but when they were so long coming and his heart was overflowing, +he picked up a pen one night and wrote what he felt. He told her all +about the ice-bound lake, the lonely crows in the big woods, the sap +suckers' cry, and the gay cardinals' whistle. He told her about the +cocoons dangling on bushes or rocking on twigs that he was cutting for +her. He warned her that spring was coming, and soon she would begin to +miss wonders for her pencil. Then he told her about the silent cabin, +the empty rooms, and a lonely man. He begged her not to forget the kiss +she had gone to find for him. He poured out his heart unrestrainedly, +and then folded the letter, sealed and addressed it to her, in care of +the fire fairies, and pitched it into the ashes of the living-room fire +place. But expression made him feel better. + +There was another longer wait for the next letter, but he had written +her so many in the meantime that a little heap of them had accumulated +as he passed through the living-room on his way to bed. He had supposed +she would be gone until after Christmas when she left, but he never had +thought of harvesting sassafras and opening the sugar camp alone. In +those days his face appeared weary, and white hairs came again on his +temples. Carey met him on the street and told him that he was going to +the National Convention of Surgeons at New York in March, and wanted him +to go along and present his new medicine for consideration. + +“All right,” said the Harvester instantly, “I will go.” + +He went and interviewed Mrs. Carey, and then visited the doctor's +tailor, and a shoe store, and bought everything required to put him in +condition for travelling in good style, and for the banquet he would +be asked to attend. Then he got Mrs. Carey to coach him on spoons and +forks, and declared he was ready. When the doctor saw that the Harvester +really would go, he sat down and wrote the president of the association, +telling him in brief outline of Medicine Woods and the man who had +achieved a wonderful work there, and of the compounding of the new +remedy. + +As he expected, return mail brought an invitation for the Harvester to +address the association and describe his work and methods and present +his medicine. The doctor went out in the car over sloppy roads with that +letter, and located the Harvester in the sugar camp. He explained the +situation and to his surprise found his man intensely interested. He +asked many questions as to the length of time, and amount of detail +required in a proper paper, and the doctor told him. + +“But if you want to make a clean sweep, David,” he said, “write your +paper simply, and practise until it comes easy before you speak.” + +That night the Harvester left work long enough to get a notebook, and by +the light of the camp fire, and in company with the owls and coons, he +wrote his outline. One division described his geographical location, +another traced his ancestry and education in wood lore. One was a +tribute to the mother who moulded his character and ground into him +stability for his work. The remainder described his methods in growing +drugs, drying and packing them, and the end was a presentation for their +examination of the remedy that had given life where a great surgeon had +conceded death. Then he began amplification. + +When the sugar making was over the Harvester commenced his regular +spring work, but his mind was so busy over his paper that he did not +have much time to realize just how badly his heart was beginning to +ache. Neither did he consign so many letters to the fire fairies, for +now he was writing of the best way to dry hydrastis and preserve ginseng +seed. The day before time to start he drove to Onabasha to try on his +clothing and have Mrs. Carey see if he had been right in his selections. + +While he was gone, Granny Moreland, wearing a clean calico dress and +carrying a juicy apple pie, came to the stretch of flooded marsh land, +and finding the path under water, followed the road and crossing a +field reached the levee and came to the bridge of Singing Water where it +entered the lake. She rested a few minutes there, and then went to the +cabin shining between bare branches. She opened the front door, entered, +and stood staring around her. + +“Why things is all tore up here,” she said. “Now ain't that sensible +of David to put everything away and save it nice and careful until his +woman gets back. Seems as if she's good and plenty long coming; seems +as if her folks needs her mighty bad, or she's having a better time than +the boy is or something.” + +She set the pie on the table, went through the cabin and up the hill +a little distance, calling the Harvester. When she passed the barn +she missed Betsy and the wagon, and then she knew he was in town. She +returned to the living-room and sat looking at the pie as she rested. + +“I'd best put you on the kitchen table,” she mused. “Likely he will see +you there first and eat you while you are fresh. I'd hate mortal bad for +him to overlook you, and let you get stale, after all the care I've took +with your crust, and all the sugar, cinnamon, and butter that's under +your lid. You're a mighty nice pie, and you ort to be et hot. Now why +under the sun is all them clean letters pitched in the fireplace?” + +Granny knelt and selecting one, she blew off the ashes, wiped it with +her apron and read: “To Ruth, in care of the fire fairies.” + +“What the Sam Hill is the idiot writin' his woman like that for?” cried +Granny, bristling instantly. “And why is he puttin' pages and pages of +good reading like this must have in it in care of the fire fairies? Too +much alone, I guess! He's going wrong in his head. Nobody at themselves +would do sech a fool trick as this. I believe I had better do something. +Of course I had! These is writ to Ruth; she ort to have them. Wish't I +knowed how she gets her mail, I'd send her some. Mebby three! I'd send a +fat and a lean, and a middlin' so's that she'd have a sample of all the +kinds they is. It's no way to write letters and pitch them in the ashes. +It means the poor boy is honin' to say things he dassent and so he's +writin' them out and never sendin' them at all. What's the little huzzy +gone so long for, anyway? I'll fix her!” + +Granny selected three letters, blew away the ashes, and tucked the +envelopes inside her dress. + +“If I only knowed how to get at her,” she muttered. She stared at the +pie. “I guess you got to go back,” she said, “and be et by me. Like as +not I'll stall myself, for I got one a-ready. But if David has got these +fool things counted and misses any, and then finds that pie here, he'll +s'picion me. Yes, I got to take you back, and hurry my stumps at that.” + +Granny arose with the pie, cast a lingering and covetous glance at the +fireplace, stooped and took another letter, and then started down the +drive. Just as she reached the bridge she looked ahead and saw the +Harvester coming up the levee. Instantly she shot the pie over the +railing and with a groan watched it strike the water and disappear. + +“Lord of love!” she gasped, sinking to the seat, “that was one of +grandmother's willer plates that I promised Ruth. 'Tain't likely I'll +ever see hide ner hair of it again. But they wa'ant no place to put it, +and I dassent let him know I'd been up to the cabin. Mebby I can fetch +a boy some day and hire him to dive for it. How long can a plate be in +water and not get spiled anyway? Now what'll I do? My head's all in a +whirl! I'll bet my bosom is a sticking out with his letters 'til he'll +notice and take them from me.” + +She gripped her hands across her chest and sat staring at the Harvester +as he stopped on the bridge, and seeing her attitude and distressed +face, he sprang from the wagon. + +“Why Granny, are you sick?” he cried anxiously. + +“Yes!” gasped Granny Moreland. “Yes, David, I am! I'm a miserable woman. +I never was in sech a shape in all my days.” + +“Let me help you to the cabin, and I'll see what I can do for you,” + offered the Harvester. + +“No. This is jest out of your reach,” said the old lady. “I want----I +want to see Doctor Carey bad.” + +“Are you strong enough to ride in or shall I bring him?” + +“I can go! I can go as well as not, David, if you'll take me.” + +“Let me run Betsy to the barn and get the Girl's phaeton. The wagon is +too rough for you. Are the pains in your chest dreadful?” + +“I don't know how to describe them,” said Granny with perfect truth. + +The Harvester leaped into the wagon and caught up the lines. As he +disappeared around the curve of the driveway Granny snatched the letters +from her dress front and thrust them deep into one of her stockings. + +“Now, drat you!” she cried. “Stick out all you please. Nobody will see +you there.” + +In a few minutes the Harvester helped her into the carriage and drove +rapidly toward the city. + +“You needn't strain your critter,” said Granny. “It's not so bad as +that, David.” + +“Is your chest any better?” + +“A sight better,” said Granny. “Shakin' up a little 'pears to do me +good.” + +“You never should have tried to walk. Suppose I hadn't been here. And +you came the long way, too! I'll have a telephone run to your house so +you can call me after this.” + +Granny sat very straight suddenly. + +“My! wouldn't that get away with some of my foxy neighbours,” she said. +“Me to have a 'phone like they do, an' be conversin' at all hours of the +day with my son's folks and everybody. I'd be tickled to pieces, David.” + +“Then I'll never dare do it,” said the Harvester, “because I can't keep +house without you.” + +“Where's your own woman?” promptly inquired Granny. + +“She can't leave her people. Her grandmother is sick.” + +“Grandmother your foot!” cried the old woman. “I've been hearing that +song and dance from the neighbours, but you got to fool younger people +than me on it, David. When did any grandmother ever part a pair of +youngsters jest married, for months at a clip? I'd like to cast my eyes +on that grandmother. She's a new breed! I was as good a mother as 'twas +in my skin to be, and I'd like to see a child of mine do it for me; +and as for my grandchildren, it hustles some of them to re-cog-nize me +passing on the big road, 'specially if it's Peter's girl with a town +beau.” + +The Harvester laughed. The old lady leaned toward him with a mist in her +eyes and a quaver in her voice, and asked softly, “Got ary friend that +could help you, David?” + +The man looked straight ahead in silence. + +“Bamfoozle all the rest of them as much as you please, lad, but I stand +to you in the place of your ma, and so I ast you plainly----got ary +friend that could help?” + +“I can think of no way in which any one possibly could help me, dear,” + said the Harvester gently. “It is a matter I can't explain, but I know +of nothing that any one could do.” + +“You mean you're tight-mouthed! You COULD tell me just like you would +your ma, if she was up and comin'; but you can't quite put me in her +place, and spit it out plain. Now mebby I can help you! Is it her fault +or yourn?” + +“Mine! Mine entirely!” + +“Hum! What a fool question! I might a knowed it! I never saw a lovinger, +sweeter girl in these parts. I jest worship the ground she treads on; +and you, lad you hain't had a heart in your body sence first you saw her +face. If I had the stren'th, I'd haul you out of this keeridge and I'd +hammer you meller, David Langston. What in the name of sense have you +gone and done to the purty, lovin' child?” + +The Harvester's face flushed, but a line around his mouth whitened. + +“Loosen up!” commanded Granny. “I got some rights in this case that +mebby you don't remember. You asked me to help you get ready for her, +and I done what you wanted. You invited me to visit her, and I jest +loved her sweet, purty ways. You wanted me to shet up my house and come +over for weeks to help take keer of her, and I done it gladly, for her +pain and your sufferin' cut me as if 'twas my livin' flesh and blood; +so you can't shet me out now. I'm in with you and her to the end. What a +blame fool thing have you gone and done to drive away for months a girl +that fair worshipped you?” + +“That's exactly the trouble, Granny,” said the Harvester. “She didn't! +She merely respected and was grateful to me, and she loved me as a +friend; but I never was any nearer her husband than I am yours.” + +“I've always knowed they was a screw loose somewhere,” commented Granny. +“And so you've sent her off to her worldly folks in a big, wicked city +to get weaned away from you complete?” + +“I sent her to let her see if absence would teach her anything. I had +months with her here, and I lay awake at nights thinking up new plans +to win her. I worked for her love as I never worked for bread, but I +couldn't make it. So I let her go to see if separation would teach her +anything.” + +“Mercy me! Why you crazy critter! The child did love you! She loved you +'nough an' plenty! She loved you faithful and true! You was jest the +light of her eyes. I don't see how a girl could think more of a man. +What in the name of sense are you expecting months of separation to +teach her, but to forget you, and mebby turn her to some one else?” + +“I hoped it would teach her what I call love, means,” explained the +Harvester. + +“Why you dratted popinjay! If ever in all my born days I wanted to take +a man and jest lit'rally mop up the airth with him, it's right here and +now. 'Absence teach her what you call love.' Idiot! That's your job!” + +“But, Granny, I couldn't!” + +“Wouldn't, you mean, no doubt! I hain't no manner of a notion in my head +but that child, depending on you, and grateful as she was, and tender +and loving, and all sech as that I hain't a doubt but she come to you +plain and told you she loved you with all her heart. What more could you +ast?” + +“That she understand what love means before I can accept what she +offers.” + +“You puddin' head! You blunderbuss!” cried Granny. “Understand what you +mean by love. If you're going to bar a woman from being a wife 'til +she knows what you mean by love, you'll stop about nine tenths of +the weddings in the world, and t'other tenth will be women that no +decent-minded man would jine with.” + +“Granny, are you sure?” + +“Well livin' through it, and up'ard of seventy years with other women, +ort to teach me something. The Girl offered you all any man needs to ast +or git. Her foundations was laid in faith and trust. Her affections was +caught by every loving, tender, thoughtful thing you did for her; and +everybody knows you did a-plenty, David. I never see sech a master hand +at courtin' as you be. You had her lovin' you all any good woman knows +how to love a man. All you needed to a-done was to take her in your +arms, and make her your wife, and she'd 'a' waked up to what you meant +by love.” + +“But suppose she never awakened?” + +“Aw, bosh! S'pose water won't wet! S'pose fire won't burn! S'pose the +sun won't shine! That's the law of nature, man! If you think I hain't +got no sense at all I jest dare you to ask Doctor Carey. 'Twouldn't take +him long to comb the kinks out of you.” + +“I don't think you have left any, Granny,” said the Harvester. “I see +what you mean, and in all probability you are right, but I can't send +for the Girl.” + +“Name o' goodness why?” + +“Because I sent her away against her will, and now she is remaining so +long that there is every probability she prefers the life she is living +and the friends she has made there, to Medicine Woods and to me. The +only thing I can do now is to await her decision.” + +“Oh, good Lord!” groaned Granny. “You make me sick enough to kill. Touch +up your nag and hustle me to Doc. You can't get me there quick enough to +suit me.” + +At the hospital she faced Doctor Carey. “I think likely some of my +innards has got to be cut out and mended,” she said. “I'll jest take a +few minutes of your time to examination me, and see what you can do.” + +In the private office she held the letters toward the doctor. “They +hain't no manner of sickness ailin' me, Doc. The boy out there is in +deep water, and I knowed how much you thought of him, and I hoped you'd +give me a lift. I went over to his place this mornin' to take him a pie, +and I found his settin' room fireplace heapin' with letters he'd writ to +Ruth about things his heart was jest so bustin' full of it eased him +to write them down, and then he hadn't the horse sense and trust in +her jedgment to send them on to her. I picked two fats, a lean, and a +middlin' for samples, and I thought I'd send them some way, and I struck +for home with them an' he ketched me plumb on the bridge. I had to throw +my pie overboard, willer plate and all, and as God is my witness, I was +so flustered the boy had good reason to think I was sick a-plenty; and +soon as he noticed it, I thought of you spang off, and I knowed you'd +know her whereabouts, and I made him fetch me to you. On the way I jest +dragged it from him that he'd sent her away his fool self, because she +didn't sense what he meant by love, and she wa'ant beholden to him same +degree and manner he was to her. Great day, Doc! Did you ever hear a +piece of foolishness to come up with that? I told him to ast you! I told +him you'd tell him that no clean, sweet-minded girl ever had known nor +ever would know what love means to a man 'til he marries her and teaches +her. Ain't it so, Doc?” + +“It certainly is.” + +“Then will you grind it into him, clean to the marrer, and will you send +these letters on to Ruthie?” + +“Most certainly I will,” said the doctor emphatically. Granny opened the +door and walked out. + +“I'm so relieved, David,” she said. “He thinks they won't be no manner +o' need to knife me. Likely he can fix up a few pills and send them out +by mail so's that I'll be as good as new again. Now we must get right +out of here and not take valuable time. What do I owe you, Doc?” + +“Not a cent,” said Doctor Carey. “Thank you very much for coming to me. +You'll soon be all right again.” + +“I was some worried. Much obliged I am sure. Come on!” + +“One minute,” said the doctor. “David, I am making up a list of friends +to whom I am going to send programmes of the medical meeting, and I +thought your wife might like to see you among the speakers, and your +subject. What is her address?” + +A slow red flushed the Harvester's cheeks. He opened his lips and +hesitated. At last he said, “I think perhaps her people prefer that she +receive mail under her maiden name while with them. Miss Ruth Jameson, +care of Alexander Herron, 5770 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia, will reach +her.” + +The doctor wrote the address, as if it were the most usual thing in the +world, and asked the Harvester if he was ready to make the trip east. + +“I think we had best start to-night,” he said. “We want a day to grow +accustomed to our clothes and new surroundings before we run up squarely +against serious business.” + +“I will be ready,” promised the Harvester. + +He took Granny home, set his house in order, installed the man he was +leaving in charge, touched a match to the heap in the fireplace, and +donning the new travelling suit, he went to Doctor Carey's. + +Mrs. Carey added a few touches, warned him to remember about the forks +and spoons, and not to forget to shave often, and saw them off. At the +station Carey said to him, “You know, David, we can change at Wayne and +go through Buffalo, or we can take the Pittsburg and go and come through +Philadelphia.” + +“I am contemplating a trip to Philadelphia,” said the Harvester, “but I +believe I will not be ready for, say a month yet. I have a theory and it +dies hard. If it does not work out the coming month, I will go, perhaps, +but not now. Let us see how many kinds of a fool I make of myself in New +York before I attempt the Quakers.” + +Almost to the city, the doctor smiled at the Harvester. + +“David, where did you get your infernal assurance?” he asked. + +“In the woods,” answered the Harvester placidly. “In doing clean work. +With my fingers in the muck, and life literally teeming and boiling in +sound and action, around, above, and beneath me, a right estimate of my +place and province in life comes naturally in daily handling stores +on which humanity depends, I go even deeper than you surgeons and +physicians. You are powerless unless I reinforce your work with drugs on +which you can rely. I do clean, honest work. I know its proper place and +value to the world. That is why I called what I have to say, 'The Man +in the Background.' There is no reason why I should shiver and shrink +at meeting and explaining my work to my fellows. Every man has his +vocation, and some of you in the limelight would cut a sorry figure if +the man in the background should fail you at the critical moment. Don't +worry about me, Doc. I am all serene. You won't find I possess either +nerves or fear. 'Be sure you are right, and then go ahead,' is my law.” + +“Well I'll be confounded!” said the doctor. + +In a large hall, peopled with thousands of medical men, the name of the +Harvester was called the following day and his subject was announced. He +arose in his place and began to talk. + +“Take the platform,” came in a roar from a hundred throats. + +The Harvester hesitated. + +“You must, David,” whispered Carey. + +The Harvester made his way forward and was guided through a side door, +and a second later calmly walked down the big stage to the front, and +stood at ease looking over his audience, as if to gauge its size and the +pitch to which he should raise his voice. His lean frame loomed every +inch of his six feet, his broad shoulders were square, his clean shaven +face alert and afire. He wore a spring suit of light gray of good +quality and cut, and he was perfect as to details. + +“This scarcely seems compatible with my subject,” he remarked casually. +“I certainly appear very much in the foreground just at present, but +perhaps that is quite as well. It may be time that I assert myself. I +doubt if there is a man among you who has not handled my products more +or less; you may enjoy learning where and how they are prepared, and +understanding the manner in which my work merges with yours. I think +perhaps the first thing is to paint you as good a word picture as I can +of my geographical location.” + +Then the Harvester named latitude and longitude and degrees of +temperature. He described the lake, the marsh, the wooded hill, the +swale, and open sunny fields. He spoke of water, soil, shade, and +geographical conditions. “Here I was born,” he said, “on land owned +by my father and grandfather before me, and previous to them, by the +Indians. My male ancestors, so far as I can trace them, were men of +the woods, hunters, trappers, herb gatherers. My mother was from the +country, educated for a teacher. She had the most inexorable will power +of any woman I ever have known. From my father I inherited my love for +muck on my boots, resin in my nostrils, the long trail, the camp fire, +forest sounds and silences in my soul. From my mother I learned to read +good books, to study subjects that puzzled me, to tell the truth, to +keep my soul and body clean, and to pursue with courage the thing to +which I set my hand. + +“There was not money enough to educate me as she would; together we +learned to find it in the forest. In early days we sold ferns and wild +flowers to city people, harvested the sap of the maples in spring, +and the nut crop of the fall. Later, as we wanted more, we trapped for +skins, and collected herbs for the drug stores. This opened to me a +field I was peculiarly fitted to enter. I knew woodcraft instinctively, +I had the location of every herb, root, bark, and seed that will endure +my climate; I had the determination to stick to my job, the right books +to assist me, and my mother's invincible will power to uphold me where I +wavered. + +“As I look into your faces, men, I am struck with the astounding thought +that some woman bore the cold sweat and pain of labour to give life to +each of you. I hope few of you prolonged that agony as I did. It was in +the heart of my mother to make me physically clean, and to that end she +sent me daily into the lake, so long as it was not ice covered, and put +me at exercises intended to bring full strength to every sinew and fibre +of my body. It was in her heart to make me morally clean, so she took +me to nature and drilled me in its forces and its methods of reproducing +life according to the law. Her work was good to a point that all men +will recognize. From there on, for a few years, she held me, not because +I was man enough to stand, but because she was woman enough to support +me. Without her no doubt I would have broken the oath I took; with her +I won the victory and reached years of manhood and self-control as she +would have had me. The struggle wore her out at half a lifetime, but +as a tribute to her memory I cannot face a body of men having your +opportunities without telling you that what was possible to her and +to me is possible to all mothers and men. If she is above and hears me +perhaps it will recompense some of her shortened years if she knows I am +pleading with you, as men having the greatest influence of any living, +to tell and to teach the young that a clean life is possible to them. +The next time any of you are called upon to address a body of men tell +them to learn for themselves and to teach their sons, and to hold them +at the critical hour, even by sweat and blood, to a clean life; for in +this way only can feeble-minded homes, almshouses, and the scarlet woman +be abolished. In this way only can men arise to full physical and mental +force, and become the fathers of a race to whom the struggle for clean +manhood will not be the battle it is with us. + +“By the distorted faces, by the misshapen bodies, by marks of +degeneracy, recognizable to your practised eyes everywhere on the +streets, by the agony of the mother who bore you, and later wept over +you, I conjure you men to live up to your high and holy privilege, and +tell all men that they can be clean, if they will. This in memory of the +mother who shortened her days to make me a moral man. And if any among +you is the craven to plead immorality as a safeguard to health, I ask, +what about the health of the women you sacrifice to shield your precious +bodies, and I offer my own as the best possible refutation of that +cowardly lie. I never have been ill a moment in all my life, and +strength never has failed me for work to which I set my hand. + +“The rapidly decreasing supply of drugs and the adulterated importations +early taught me that the day was coming when it would be an absolute +necessity to raise our home supplies. So, while yet in my teens, I began +collecting from the fields and woods for miles around such medicinal +stuff as grew in my father's fields, marsh, and woods, and planting +more wherever I found anything growing naturally in its prime. I merely +enlarged nature's beds and preserved their natural condition. As +the plants spread and the harvest increased, I built a dry-house on +scientific principles, a large store-room, and later a laboratory in +which I have been learning to prepare some of my crude material for the +market, combining ideas of my own in remedies, and at last producing +one your president just has indicated that I come to submit to you as a +final resort in certain conditions. + +“My operations now have spread to close six hundred acres of almost +solid medicinal growth, including a little lake, around the shores of +which flourish a quadruple setting of water-loving herbs.” + +Occasionally he shifted his position or easily walked across the +platform and faced his audience from a different direction. His voice +was strong, deep, and rang clearly and earnestly. His audience sat on +the front edge of their chairs, and listened to something new, with +mouths half agape. A few times Carey turned from the speaker to face +the audience. He agonized in his heart that it was a closed session, and +that his wife was not there to hear, and that the Girl was missing it. + +By the bent backs and flying fingers of the reporters at their table in +front he could see that to-morrow the world would read the Harvester's +speech; and if it were true that the little mother had shortened +her days to produce him, she had done earth a service for which many +generations would call her blessed. For the doctor could look ahead, +and he knew that this man would not escape. The call for him and his +unimpeachable truth would come from everywhere, and his utterances would +carry as far as newspapers and magazines were circulated. The good he +would do would be past estimation. + +The Harvester continued. He was describing the most delicate and +difficult of herbs to secure. He was telling how they could be raised, +prepared, kept, and compounded. He was discussing diseases that did not +readily yield to treatment, pointing out what drugs were customarily +employed and offering, if any of them had such cases, and would send +to him, to forward samples of unadulterated stuff sufficient for a test +comparison with what they were using. He was walking serenely and surely +into the heart of every man before him. + +Just at the point where it was the psychological time to close, he +stopped and stood a long instant facing them, and then he asked softly, +“Did any man among you ever see the woman to whom he had given a strong +man's first passion of love, slowly dying before him?” + +One breathless instant he waited and then continued, “Gentlemen, I +recently saw this in my own case. For days it was coming, so at night I +shut myself in my laboratory, and from the very essence of the purest +of my self-compounded drugs I distilled a stimulant into which I put a +touch of heart remedy, a brace for weakening nerves, a vitalization of +sluggish blood. As I worked, I thought in that thought which embodied +the essence of prayer, and when my day and my hour came, and a man who +has been the president of your honourable body, and is known to all of +you, said it was death, I took this combination that I now present to +you, and with the help of the Almighty and a woman above the price of +rubies, I kept breath in the girl I love, and to-day she is at full tide +of womanhood. As a thank offering, the formula is yours. Test it as you +will. Use it if you find it good. Gentlemen, I thank you!” + +Carey sank in his chair and watched the Harvester cross the stage. As +he disappeared the tumult began, and it lasted until the president arose +and brought him back to make another bow, and then they rioted until +they wore themselves out. In an immaculate dress suit the Harvester sat +that night on the right of the gray-haired president and responded to +the toast, “The Harvester of the Woods.” Then the reporters carried him +away to be photographed, and to show him the gay sights of New York. + +In the train the next day, steadily speeding west, he said to Doctor +Carey: “I feel as the old woman of Mother Goose who said, 'Lawk-a-mercy +on us, can this be really I?'” + +“You just bet it is!” cried the doctor. “And you have cut out work for +yourself in good shape.” + +“What do you mean?” + +“I mean that this is a beginning. You will be called upon to speak again +and again.” + +“The point is, do you honestly think I helped any?” + +“You did inestimable good. It only can help men to hear plain truth that +is personal experience. As for that dope of yours, it will come closer +raising the dead than anything I ever saw. Next case I see slipping, +after I've done my best, I'm going to try it out for myself.” + +“All right! 'Phone me and I'll bring some fresh and help you.” + +At Buffalo the doctor left the car and bought a paper. As he had +expected the portrait and speech of the Harvester were featured. The +reporters had been gracious. They had done all that was just to a great +event, and allowed themselves some latitude. He immediately mailed the +paper to the Girl, and at Cleveland bought another for himself. When +he showed it to the Harvester, as he glanced at it he observed, “Do I +appear like that?” Then he went on talking with a man he had met who +interested him. + + + +CHAPTER XXI. THE COMING OF THE BLUEBIRD + +The Harvester stopped at the mail box on his way home and among the mass +of matter it contained was something from the Girl. It was a scrap as +long as his least finger and three times as wide, and by the postmark +it had lain four days in the box. On opening it, he found only her card +with a line written across it, but the man went up the hill and into the +cabin as if a cyclone were driving him, for he read, “Has your bluebird +come?” + +He threw his travelling bag on the floor, ran to the telephone, and +called the station. “Take this message,” he said. “Mrs. David Langston, +care of Alexander Herron, 5770 Chestnut Street, Philadelphia. Found note +after four days' absence. Bluebird long past due. The fairies have told +it that my fate hereafter lies in your hands. + +“As always. David.” + +The Harvester turned from the instrument and bent to embrace Belshazzar, +leaping in ecstasy beside him. + +“Understand that, Bel?” he asked. “I don't know but it means something. +Maybe it doesn't----not a thing! And again, there is a chance----only +the merest possibility----that it does. We'll risk it, Bel, and to +begin on I have nailed it as hard as I knew how. Next, we will clean +the house----until it shines, and then we will fill the cupboard, and if +anything does happen we won't be caught napping. Yes, boy, we will take +the chance! We can't be any worse disappointed than we have been before +and survived it. Come along!” + +He picked up the bag and arranged its contents, carefully brushed and +folded on his shelves and in his closet. Then he removed the travelling +suit, donned the old brown clothes and went to the barn to see that his +creatures had been cared for properly. Early the next morning he awoke +and after feeding and breakfasting instead of going to harvest spice +brush and alder he stretched a line and hung the bedding from room after +room to air and sun. He swept, dusted, and washed windows, made beds, +and lastly polished the floors throughout the cabin. He set everything +in order, and as a finishing touch, filled vases, pitchers, and bowls +with the bloom of red bud and silky willow catkins. He searched the +south bank, but there was not a violet, even in the most exposed places. +By night he was tired and a little of the keen edge of his ardour was +dulled. The next day he worked scrubbing the porches, straightening +the lawn and hedges, even sweeping the driveway to the bridge clear +of wind-whirled leaves and straw. He scouted around the dry-house and +laboratory, and spent several extra hours on the barn so that when +evening came everything was in perfect order. Then he dressed, ate his +supper and drove to the city. + + +He stopped at the mail box, but there was nothing from the Girl. The +Harvester did not know whether he was sorry or glad. A letter might have +said the same thing. Nothing meant a delightful possibility, and between +the two he preferred the latter. He whistled and sang as he drove to +Onabasha, and Belshazzar looked at him with mystified eyes, for this was +not the master he had known of late. He did not recognize the dress or +the manner, but his dog heart was sympathetic to the man's every mood, +and he remembered times when a drive down the levee always had been like +this, for to-night the Harvester's tongue was loosened and he talked in +the old way. + +“Just four words, Bel,” he said. “And, as I remarked before, they may +mean the most wonderful thing on earth, and possibly nothing at all. +But it is in the heart of man to hope, Bel, and so we are going to live +royally for a week or two, just on hope, old boy. If anything should +happen, we are ready, rooms shining, beds fresh, fireplaces filled and +waiting a match, ice chest cool, and when we get back it will be stored. +Also a secret, Bel; we are going to a florist and a fruit store. While +we are at it, we will do the thing right; but we will stay away from +Doc, until we are sure of something. He means well, but we don't like +to be pitied, do we, Bel? Our friends don't manage their eyes and voices +very well these days. Never mind! Our time will come yet. The bluebird +will not fail us, but never before has it been so late.” + +On his return he filled the pantry shelves with packages, stored the +ice chest, and set a basket of delicious fruit on the dining table. Two +boxes remained. He opened the larger one and took from it an arm load of +white lilies that he carried up the hill and divided between the mounds +under the oak. Then he uncovered his head, and standing at the foot of +them he looked among the boughs of the big tree and listened intently. +After a time a soft, warm wind, catkin-scented, crept from the lake, +and began a murmur among the clusters of brown leaves clinging to the +branches. + +“Mother,” said the Harvester, “were you with me? Did I do it right? Did +I tell them what you would have had me say for the boys? Are you glad +now you held me to the narrow way? Do you want me to go before men if +I am asked, as Doc says I will be, and tell them that the only way to +abolish pain is for them to begin at the foundation by living clean +lives? I don't know if I did any good, but they listened to me. Anyway, +I did the best I knew. But that isn't strange; you ground it into me to +do that every day, until it is almost an instinct. Mother, dear, can you +tell me about the bluebird? Is that softest little rustle of all your +voice? and does it say 'hope'? I think so, and I thank you for the +word.” + +The man's eyes dropped to earth. + +“And you other mother,” he said, “have you any message for me? Up where +you are can you sweep the world with understanding eyes and tell me why +my bluebird does not come? Does it know that this year your child and +not chance must settle my fate? Can you look across space and see if she +is even thinking of me? But I know that! She had to be thinking of me +when she wrote that line. Rather can you tell me----will she come? Do +you think I am man enough to be trusted with her future, if she does? +One thing I promise you: if such joy ever comes to me, I will know how +to meet it gently, thankfully, tenderly, please God. Good night, little +women. I hope you are sleeping well----” + +He turned and went down the hill, entered the cabin and took from the +other box a mass of Parma violets. He put these in the pink bowl and +placed it on the table beside the Girl's bed. He stood for a time, and +then began pulling single flowers from the bowl and dropping them over +the pillow and snowy spread. + +“God, how I love her!” he whispered softly. + +At last he went out and closed the door. He was tired and soon fell +asleep with the night breeze stirring his hair, and the glamour of +moonlight flooding the lake touched his face. Clearly it etched the +strong, manly features, the fine brow and chin, and painted in unusual +tenderness the soft lines around the mouth. The little owl wavered its +love story, a few frogs were piping, and the Harvester lay breathing the +perfumed spring air deeply and evenly. Near midnight Belshazzar awakened +him by arising from the bedside and walking to the door. + +“What is it, Bel?” inquired the Harvester. + +The dog whined softly. The man turned his head toward the lake. A ray of +red light touched the opposite embankment and came wavering across the +surface. The Harvester sat up. Two big, flaming eyes were creeping up +the levee. + +“That,” said the Harvester, “might be Doc coming for me to help him try +out my bottled sunshine, or it might be my bluebird.” + +He tossed back the cover, swung his feet to the floor, setting each in a +slipper beside the bed, and arose, dressing as he started for the door. +As he opened the screen and stepped on the veranda a passenger car from +the city stopped, and the Harvester went down the walk to meet it. His +heart turned over when he saw a woman's hand on the door. + +“Permit me,” he said, taking the handle and bringing it back with a +sweep. A tall form arose, bent forward, and descended to the step. The +full flare of moonlight fell on the glowing face of the Girl. + +“Harvester, is it you?” she asked. + +“Yes,” gasped the man. + +Two hands came fluttering out, and he just had presence of mind to step +in range so that they rested on his shoulders. + +“Has the bluebird come?” + +“Not yet!” + +“Then I am not too late?” + +“Never too late to come to me, Ruth.” + +“I am welcome?” + +“I have no words to tell you how welcome.” + +She swayed forward and the Harvester tried to reach her lips, but they +brushed his cheek and touched his ear. + +“I have brought one more kiss I want to try,” she whispered. + +The Harvester crushed her in his arms until he frightened himself for +fear he had hurt her, and murmured an ecstasy of indistinct love words +to her. Presently her feet touched the ground and she drew away from +him. + +“Harvester,” she whispered, “I couldn't wait any longer; indeed I could +not: and I couldn't leave grandfather and grandmother, and I didn't +know what in the world to do, so I just brought them along. Are they +welcome?” + +“Aside from you, I would rather have them than any people on earth,” + said the Harvester. + +There were two sounds in the car; one was an approving murmur, and the +other an undeniable snort. The Harvester felt the reassuring pressure of +the Girl's hand. + +“Please, Ruth,” he said, “go turn on the light so that I can see to help +grandmother.” + +A foot stamped before the front seat. “Madam Herron, if you please!” + cried an acrid voice. + +“'Madam Herron,'” said the Harvester gently, as he set a foot on the +step, reached in and bodily picked up a little old lady and started up +the walk with her in his arms. + +“Careful there, sir!” roared a voice after him. + +The Harvester could feel the quake of the laughing woman and he smiled +broadly as he entered the cabin, and placed her in a large chair before +the fire. Then he wheeled and ran back to the car, reaching it as the +man was making an effort to descend. It could be seen that he had been +tall, before time and sorrow had bent him, and keen eyes gleamed below +shaggy white brows from under his hat brim. He had a white moustache, +and his hair was snowy. + +“Allow me,” said the Harvester reaching a hand. + +“If you touch me I will cane you,” said Mr. Alexander Herron. + +There was nothing to do but step back. The cane, wheel, and a long coat +skirt interfering, the old man fell headlong, and only quick hands saved +him a severe jolt and bruises. He stood glaring in the moonlight while +his hat was restored. + +“If you run your car to the curve you can back toward the south and turn +easily,” said the Harvester to the driver. As the automobile passed them +he offered his arm. “May I show you to the fire? These spring nights are +chilly.” + +“'Chilly!' Demnition cold is what they are! I'm frozen to the bone! This +will be the end of us both! Dragging people of our age around at this +hour of night. Of all the accursed stubbornness!” + +“There are three low steps,” said the Harvester, “now a straight stretch +of walk, now two steps; there you are on the level. Here is an easy +chair. It would be better to leave on your coat, until I light the +fire.” + +He knelt and scratched a match, and almost instantly a flame sprang from +the heap of dry kindling, and began to wrap around the big logs. + +“How pretty!” exclaimed a soft voice. + +“Kind of a hunting lodge in the wilds, is it?” growled a rough one. +“Marcella, you will take your death here!” + +“I'm sure I feel no exposure. Really, Alexander, if I had passed away +every time you have prophesied that I would in the past twenty years +you'd have the largest private cemetery in existence. If you would not +be so pessimistic I could quite enjoy the trip. It's so long since I've +ridden in the cars.” + +“Of all the abandoned places! And for you to be here, after your years +in bed!” + +“But I'm not nearly so tired as I am at home, Alexander, truly.” + +“Let me help you, grandfather,” offered the Girl. + +She went to him and took his hat and stick. + +“Leave me my cane,” he cried. “Any instant that beast may attack some of +us.” + +The Girl laughed merrily. + +“Why grandfather!” she chided, “Bel is the finest dog you ever knew, +he is my best friend here. By the hour he has protected me, and he is +gentle as a kitten. He's crazy over my coming home.” + +She knelt on the floor, put her arms around the dog's neck, and the +delighted brute quivered with the joy of her caress and the sound of her +loved voice. + +“Ruthie!” cautioned the gentle lady. + +“Put that cur out of doors, where animals belong,” roared the old man, +lifting his stick. + +“Careful!” warned the grave voice of the Harvester. + +“I thought you said he was gentle as a kitten!” + +“Grandfather, I said that,” cried the Girl. + +“Well wasn't it the truth?” + +“You can see how he loves me. Didn't I ever tell you that Bel made the +first friendly overture I ever received in this part of the country? +He's watched me by the day, even while I slept.” + +“Then what's all this infernal fuss about?” + +“Try striking him if you want to find out,” explained the Harvester +gently. “You see, Belshazzar and I are accustomed to living here alone +and very quietly. He is excited over the Girl's return, because she is +his friend, and he has not forgotten her. Then this is the first time in +his life he ever heard an irritable voice from a visitor or saw a cane, +and it angers him. He is perfectly safe to guard a baby, if he is gently +treated, but he is a sure throat hold to a stranger who bespeaks him +roughly or attempts to strike. He would be of no use as a guard to +valuable property while I sleep if he were otherwise. Bel, come here! +Lie still.” + +The dog sank to the floor beside the Harvester, but his sharp eyes +followed the Girl, and the hair arose on his neck at every rasping note +of the old man's voice. + +“I wouldn't give such a creature house room for a minute,” insisted the +guest. + +“Wait until you see him work and become acquainted with him, and you +will change that verdict,” prophesied the Harvester. + +“I never was known to change an opinion. Never, sir! Never!” cried the +testy voice. + +“How unfortunate!” remarked the Harvester suavely. + +“Explain yourself! Explain yourself, sir!” + +“There never has been, there never will be, a man on this earth,” said +the Harvester, “wholly free from mistakes. Are you warm now?” He turned +to the little lady, cutting off a reply with his question. + +“Nice and warm and quite sleepy,” she said. + +“What may I bring you for a light lunch before you go to bed?” + +“Oh, could I have a bite of something?” + +“If only I am fortunate enough to have anything you will care for. What +about a bowl of hot milk and a slice of toast?” + +“Why I think that would be just the thing!” + +“Excuse me,” said the Harvester rising. + +He went to the kitchen and they could hear him moving around. + +“I wish the big brute would take his beast along,” growled Mr. Alexander +Herron. + +“Come, Bel,” ordered the Girl. “Let's go to the kitchen.” + +The dog instantly arose and followed her. + +“What can I do to help?” she asked as they reached the door. + +“Remain where you won't dazzle my eyes,” said the Harvester, “until I +help the gentle lady and the gentle man to bed.” + +Presently he came with a white cloth, two spoons, and a plate of bread. +He spread the cloth on the table, laid the spoons on it, and opening the +little cupboard, took out a long toasting fork, and sticking it into a +slice of bread, he held it over the coals. When it grew golden brown he +lifted the table beside the chair, and brought a bowl of scalded milk. + +“Marcella, that stuff will be too smoky for you! Your stomach will rebel +at it.” + +“Grandfather, there will not be a suspicion of odour,” said the Girl. “I +have had it that way often.” + +“Then no wonder you came from this place looking like a picked crane, if +that is a sample of what you were fed on!” + +The face of the Harvester grew redder than the heat of the fire +necessitated, but at the ringing laugh of the Girl he set his teeth +and went on toasting bread. Grandmother crumbled some in the milk and +picking up the spoon tested the combination. She was very hungry, and it +was good. She began eating with relish. + +“Alexander, you will be the loser if you don't have some of this,” she +said. “It's just delicious!” + +“Maybe smoked spoon victuals are proper for invalid women,” he retorted, +“but they are mighty thin diet for a hardy man.” + +“What about a couple of eggs and some beef extract?” suggested the cook. + +“Sounds more sensible by a long shot.” + +“Ruth, you make this toast,” said the Harvester and disappeared. + +Presently he placed before his guest a couple of eggs poached in milk, +a steaming bowl of beef juice, and a plate of toast. For one instant +the Harvester thought this was going into the fire, the next a slice was +picked up and smelled testily. The Girl sat on her grandfather's chair +arm, and breaking a morsel of toast dipped it into the broth and tasted +it. + +“Oh but that is good!” she cried. “Why haven't I some also? Am I +supposed to have no 'tummy'?” + +“Your turn next,” said the Harvester, as he again gave her the fork and +went to the kitchen. + +When he returned and served the Girl he found her grandfather eating +heartily. + +“Why I think this is fun,” said the gentle lady. “I haven't had such a +fine time in ages. I love the heat of the flame on my body and things +taste so good. I could go to sleep without any narcotic, right now.” + +Close her knee the Harvester knelt on the hearth with his toasting fork. +She leaned forward and ran her fingers through his hair. + +“You're a braw laddie,” she said. “Now I see why Ruthie WOULD come.” + +The Harvester took the frail hand and kissed it. “Thank you!” he +returned. + +“Mush!” exploded the grizzled man in the rear. + +When no one wanted more food the Harvester stacked and carried away the +dishes, swept the hearth, and replaced the toaster. + +“Ruth and I often lunched this way last fall,” he said. “We liked it for +a change.” + +“Alexander, have you noticed?” asked the little woman as she lifted wet +eyes to a beautiful portrait of her daughter beside the chimney. + +“D'ye think I'm blind? Saw it as I entered the door. Poor taste! Very! +Brown may match the rug and wood-work, but it's a wretched colour for a +young girl in her gay time. Should be pink and white with a gold frame.” + +“That would be beautiful,” agreed the Harvester. “We must have one that +way. This is not an expensive picture. It is only an enlargement from an +old photograph.” + +“We have a number of very handsome likenesses. Which one can you spare +Ruth, Marcella?” + +“The one she likes best,” said the lady promptly. + +“And the other is your mother, no doubt. What a girlish, beautiful +face!” + +“Wonderfully fine!” growled a gruff old voice tinctured with tears, and +the Harvester began to see light. + +The old man arose. “Ruthie, help your grandmother to bed,” he said. “And +you, sir, have the goodness to walk a few steps with me.” + +The Harvester sprang up and brought Mr. Herron his coat and hat and held +the door. The Girl brushed past him. + +“To the oak,” she whispered. + +They went into the night, and without a word the Harvester took his +guest's arm and guided him up the hill. When they reached the two mounds +the moon shining between the branches touched the lily faces with with +holy whiteness. + +“She sleeps there,” said the Harvester, indicating the place. + +Then he turned and went down the path a little distance and waited until +he feared the night air would chill the broken old man. + +“You can see better to-morrow,” he said as he touched the shaking figure +and assisted it to arise. + +“Your work?” Mr. Alexander Herron touched the lilies with his walking +stick. + +The Harvester assented. + +“Do you mind if I carry one to Marcella?” + +The Harvester trembled as he stooped to select the largest and whitest, +and with sudden illumination, he fully understood. He helped the +tottering old man to the cabin, where he sat silently before the +fireplace softly touching the lily face with his lips. + +“I have put grandmother in my bed, tucked her in warmly, and she says it +is soft and fine,” laughed the Girl, coming to them. “Now you go before +she falls asleep, and I hope you will rest well.” + +She bent and kissed him. + +The Harvester held the door. + +“Can I be of any service?” he inquired. + +“No, I'm no helpless child.” + +“Then to my best wishes for sound sleep the remainder of the night, I +will add this,” said the Harvester----“You may rest in peace concerning +your dear girl. I sympathize with your anxiety. Good night!” + +Alexander Herron threw out his hands in protest. + +“I wouldn't mind admitting that you are a gentleman in a month or two,” + he said, “but it's a demnation humiliation to have it literally wrung +from me to-night!” + +He banged the door in the face of the amazed Harvester, who turned +to the Girl as she leaned against the mantel. He stood absorbing the +glowing picture of beauty and health that she made. She had removed her +travelling dress and shoes, and was draped in a fleecy white wool kimono +and wearing night slippers. Her hair hung in two big braids as it had +during her illness. She was his sick girl again in costume, but radiant +health glowed on her lovely face. The Harvester touched a match to a few +candles and turned out the acetylene lights. Then he stood before her. + +“Now, bluebird,” he said gently. “Ruth, you always know where to find +me, if you will look at your feet. I thought I loved you all in my power +when you went, but absence has taught its lessons. One is that I can +grow to love you more every day I live, and the other that I probably +trifled with the highest gift you had to offer, when I sent you away. +I may have been right; Granny and Doc think I was wrong. You know the +answer. You said there was another kiss for me. Ruth, is it the same or +a different one?” + +“It is different. Quite, quite different!” + +“And when?” The Harvester stretched out longing arms. The Girl stepped +back. + +“I don't know,” she said. “I had it when I started, but I lost it on the +way.” + +The Harvester staggered under the disappointment. + +“Ruth, this has gone far enough that you wouldn't play with me, merely +for the sake of seeing me suffer, would you?” + +“No!” cried the Girl. “No! I mean it! I knew just what I wanted to say +when I started; but we had to take grandmother out of bed. She wouldn't +allow me to leave her, and I wouldn't stay away from you any longer. She +fainted when we put her on the car and grandfather went wild. He almost +killed the porters, and he raved at me. He said my mother had ruined +their lives, and now I would be their death. I got so frightened I had a +nervous chill and I'm so afraid she will grow worse----” + +“You poor child!” shuddered the Harvester. “I see! I understand! What +you need is quiet and a good rest.” + +He placed her in a big easy chair and sitting on the hearth rug he +leaned against her knee and said, “Now tell me, unless you are so tired +that you should go to bed.” + +“I couldn't possibly sleep until I have told you,” said the Girl. + +“If you're merciful, cut it short!” implored the Harvester. + +“I think it begins,” she said slowly, “when I went because you sent me +and I didn't want to go. Of course, as soon as I saw grandfather and +grandmother, heard them talk, and understood what their lives had been, +and what might have been, why there was only one thing to do, as I could +see it, and that was to compensate their agony the best I could. I think +I have, David. I really think I have made them almost happy. But I told +them all any one could tell about you in the start, and from the first +grandmother would have been on your side; but you see how grandfather +is, and he was absolutely determined that I should live with them, in +their home, all their lives. He thought the best way to accomplish that +would be to separate me from you and marry me to the son of his partner. + +“There are rooms packed with the lovely things they bought me, David, +and everything was as I wrote you. Some of the people who came were +wonderful, so gracious and beautiful, I loved almost all of them. They +took me places where there were pictures, plays, and lovely parties, and +I studied hard to learn some music, to dance, ride and all the things +they wanted me to do, and to read good books, and to learn to meet +people with graciousness to equal theirs, and all of it. Every day I +grew stronger and met more people, and there were different places to +go, and always, when anything was to be done, up popped Mr. Herbert +Kennedy and said and did exactly the right thing, and he could be +extremely nice, David.” + +“I haven't a doubt!” said the Harvester, laying hold of her kimono. + +“And he popped up so much that at last I saw he was either pretending +or else he really was growing very fond of me, so one day when we were +alone I told him all about you, to make him see that he must not. He +laughed at me, and said exactly what you did, that I didn't love you +at all, that it was gratitude, that it was the affection of a child. He +talked for hours about how grandfather and grandmother had suffered, +how it was my duty to live with them and give you up, even if I cared +greatly for you; but he said what I felt was not love at all. Then he +tried to tell me what he thought love was, and I could see very clearly +that if it was like that, I didn't love you, but I came a whole world +closer it than loving him, and I told him so. He laughed again and said +I was mistaken, and that he was going to teach me what real love was, +and then I could not be driven back to you. After that, everybody and +everything just pushed me toward him with both hands, except one person. +She was a young married woman and I met her at the very first. She +was the only real friend I ever had, and at last, the latter part of +February, when things were the very worst, I told her. I told her every +single thing. She was on your side. She said you were twice the man +Herbert Kennedy was, and as soon as I found I could talk to her about +you, I began going there and staying as long as I could, just to talk +and to play with her baby. + +“Her husband was a splendid young fellow, and I grew very fond of him. +I knew she had told him, because he suddenly began talking to me in the +kindest way, and everything he said seemed to be what I most wanted to +hear. I got along fairly well until hints of spring began to come, and +then I would wonder about my hedge, and my gold garden, and if the ice +was off the lake, and about my boat and horse, and I wanted my room, +and oh, David, most of all I wanted you! Just you! Not because you +could give me anything to compare in richness with what they could, not +because this home was the best I'd ever known except theirs, not for any +reason at all only just that I wanted to see your face, hear your voice, +and have you pick me up and take me in your arms when I was tired. That +was when I almost quit writing. I couldn't say what I wanted to, and I +wouldn't write trivial things, so I went on day after day just groping.” + +“And you killed me alive,” said the Harvester. + +“I was afraid of that, but I couldn't write. I just couldn't! It was ten +days ago that I thought of the bluebird's coming this year and what it +would mean to you, and THAT killed me, Man! It just hurt my heart +until it ached, to know that you were out here alone; and that night I +couldn't sleep, because I was thinking of you, and it came to me that if +I had your lips then I could give you a much, much better kiss than the +last, and when it was light I wrote that line. + +“Nearly a week later I got your answer early in the morning, and it +almost drove me wild. I took it and went for the day with May, and I +told her. She took me upstairs, and we talked it over, and before I left +she made me promise that I would write you and explain how I felt, and +ask you what you thought. She wanted you to come there and see if you +couldn't make them at least respect you. I know I was crying, and she +was bathing the baby. She went to bring something she had forgotten, and +she gave him to me to hold, just his little naked body. He stood on my +lap and mauled my face, and pulled my hair, and hugged me with his stout +little arms and kissed me big, soft, wet kisses, and something sprang to +life in my heart that never before had been there. I just cried all over +him and held him fast, and I couldn't give him up when she came back. I +saw why I'd wanted a big doll all my life, right then; and oh, dear! +the doll you sent was beautiful, but, David, did you ever hold a little, +living child in your arms like that?” + +“I never did,” said the Harvester huskily. + +He looked at her face and saw the tears rolling, but he could say no +more, so he leaned his head against her knee, and finding one of her +hands he drew it to his lips. + +“It is wonderful,” said the Girl softly. “It awakens something in +your heart that makes it all soft and tender, and you feel an awful +responsibility, too. Grandmother had them telephone at last, and May +helped me bathe my face and fix my hat. When we went to the carriage Mr. +Kennedy was there to take me home. We went past grandmother's florist to +get her some violets----David, she is sleeping under yours, with just a +few touching her lips. Oh it was lovely of you to get them; your fairies +must have told you! She has them every day, and one of the objections +she made to coming here was that she couldn't do without them in winter, +and she found some on her pillow the very first thing. David, you are +wonderful! And grandfather with his lily! I know where he found that! I +knew instantly. Ah, there are fairies who tell you, because you deserve +to know.” + +The Girl bent and slipping her arm around his neck hugged him tight +an instant, and then she continued unsteadily: “While he was in the +shop----Harvester, this is like your wildest dream, but it's truest +truth----a boy came down the walk crying papers, and as I live, he +called your name. I knew it had to be you because he said, 'First drug +farm in America! Wonderful medicine contributed to the cause of science! +David Langston honoured by National Medical Association!' I just stood +in the carriage and screamed, 'Boy! Boy!' until the coachman thought I +had lost my senses. He whistled and got me the paper. I was shaking so +I asked him how to find anything you wanted quickly, and he pointed the +column where events are listed; and when I found the third page there +was your face so splendidly reproduced, and you seemed so fine and noble +to me I forgot about the dress suit and the badge in your buttonhole, +or to wonder when or how or why it could have happened. I just sat there +shouting in my soul, 'David! David! Medicine Man! Harvester Man!' again +and again.” + +“I don't know what I said to Mr. Kennedy or how I got to my room. I +scanned it by the column, at last I got to paragraphs, and finally I +read all the sentences. David, I kissed that newspaper face a hundred +times, and if you could have had those, Man, I think you would have said +they were right. David, there is nothing to cry over!” + +“I'm not!” said the Harvester, wiping the splashes from her hand. “But, +Ruth, forget what I said about being brief. I didn't realize what was +coming. I should have said, if you've any mercy at all, go slowly! This +is the greatest thing that ever happened or ever will happen to me. See +that you don't leave out one word of it.” + +“I told you I had to tell you first,” said the Girl. + +“I understand now,” said the Harvester, his head against her knee while +he pressed her hand to his lips. “I see! Your coming couldn't be perfect +without knowing this first. Go on, dear heart, and slowly! You owe me +every word.” + +“When I had it all absorbed, I carried the paper to the library and +said, 'Grandfather, such a wonderful thing has happened. A man has had a +new idea, and he has done a unique work that the whole world is going +to recognize. He has stood before men and made a speech that few, oh +so few, could make honestly, and he has advocated right living, oh +so nobly, and he has given a wonderful gift to science without price, +because through it he first saved the life he loved best. Isn't that +marvellous, grandfather?' And he said, 'Very marvellous, Ruth. Won't +you sit down and read to me about it?' And I said, 'I can't, dear +grandfather, because I have been away from grandmother all day, and +she is fretting for me, and to-night is a great ball, and she has spent +millions on my dress, I think, and there is an especial reason why I +must go, and so I have to see her now; but I want to show you the man's +face, and then you can read the story.' + +“You see, I knew if I started to read it he would stop me; but if I left +him alone with it he would be so curious he would finish. So I turned +your name under and held the paper and said, 'What do you think of that +face, grandfather? Study it carefully,' and, Man, only guess what he +said! He said, 'I think it is the face of one of nature's noblemen.' I +just kissed him time and again and then I said, 'So it is grandfather, +so it is; for it is the face of the man who twice saved my life, and +lifted my mother from almost a pauper grave and laid her to rest +in state, and the man who found you, and sent me to you when I was +determined not to come.' And I just stood and kissed that paper before +him and cried, again and again, 'He is one of nature's noblemen, and he +is my husband, my dear, dear husband and to-morrow I am going home +to him.' Then I laid the paper on his lap and ran away. I went to +grandmother and did everything she wanted, then I dressed for the ball. +I went to say good-bye to her and show my dress and grandfather was +there, and he followed me out and said, 'Ruth, you didn't mean it?' I +said, 'Did you read the paper, grandfather?' and he said 'Yes'; and I +said, 'Then I should think you would know I mean it, and glory in my +wonderful luck. Think of a man like that, grandfather!' + +“I went to the ball, and I danced and had a lovely time with every one, +because I knew it was going to be the very last, and to-morrow I must +start to you. + +“On the way home I told Mr. Kennedy what paper to get and to read it. I +said good-bye to him, and I really think he cared, but I was too happy +to be very sorry. When I reached my room there was a packet for me and, +Man, like David of old, you are a wonderful poet! Oh Harvester! why +didn't you send them to me instead of the cold, hard things you wrote?” + +“What do you mean, Ruth?” + +“Those letters! Those wonderful outpourings of love and passion and +poetry and song and broken-heartedness. Oh Man, how could you write such +things and throw them in the fire? Granny Moreland found them when she +came to bring you a pie, and she carried them to Doctor Carey, and he +sent them to me, and, David, they finished me. Everything came in a +heap. I would have come without them, but never, never with quite the +understanding, for as I read them the deeps opened up, and the flood +broke, and there did a warm tide go through all my being, like you said +it would; and now, David, I know what you mean by love. I called +the maids and they packed my trunk and grandmother's, and I had +grandfather's valet pack his, and go and secure berths and tickets, and +learn about trains, and I got everything ready, even to the ambulance +and doctor; but I waited until morning to tell them. I knew they would +not let me come alone, so I brought them along. David, what in the world +are we going to do with them?” + +The Harvester drew a deep breath and looked at the flushed face of the +Girl. + +“With no time to mature a plan, I would say that we are going to love +them, care for them, gradually teach them our work, and interest them in +our plans here; and so soon as they become reconciled we will build them +such a house as they want on the hill facing us, just across Singing +Water, and there they may have every luxury they can provide for +themselves, or we can offer, and the pleasure of your presence, and both +of them can grow strong and happy. I'll have grandmother on her feet in +ten days, and the edge off grandfather's tongue in three. That bluster +of his is to drown tears, Ruth; I saw it to-night. And when they pass +over we will carry them up and lay them beside her under the oak, and +we can take the house we build for them, if you like it better, and use +this for a store-room.” + +“Never!” said the Girl. “Never! My sunshine room and gold garden so long +as I live. Never again will I leave them. If this cabin grows too small, +we will build all over the hillside; but my room and garden and this and +the dining-room and your den there must remain as they are now.” + +The Harvester arose and drew the davenport before the fireplace, and +heaped pillows. “You are so tired you are trembling, and your voice is +quivering,” he said. He lifted the Girl, laid her down and arranged the +coverlet. + +“Go to sleep!” he ordered gently. “You have made me so wildly happy that +I could run and shout like a madman. Try to rest, and maybe the fairies +who aid me will put my kiss back on your lips. I am going to the hill +top to tell mother and my God.” + +He knelt and gathered her in his arms a second, then called Belshazzar +to guard, and went into the sweet spring night, to jubilate with that +wild surge of passion that sweeps the heart of a strong man when he is +most nearly primal. He climbed the hill at a rush, and standing beneath +the oak on the summit, he faced the lake, and stretching his arms +widely, he waved them, merely to satisfy the demand for action. When +urgency for expression came upon him, he laughed a deep rumble of +exultation. + +The night wind swept the lake and lifted his hair, the odour of spring +was intoxicating in his nostrils, small creatures of earth stirred +around him, here and there a bird, restless in the delirium of mating +fever, lifted its head and piped a few notes on the moon-whitened air. +The frogs sang uninterruptedly at the water's edge. The Harvester stood +rejoicing. Beating on his brain came a rush of love words uttered in the +Girl's dear voice. “I wanted you! Just you! He is my husband! My dear, +dear husband! To-morrow I am going home! Now, David, I know what you +mean by love!” The Harvester laughed again and sounds around him ceased +for a second, then swelled in fuller volume than before. He added his +voice. “Thank God! Oh, thank God!” he cried. “And may the Author of the +Universe, the spirits of the little mothers who loved us, and all the +good fairies who guide us, unite to bring unbounded joy to my Dream Girl +and to guard her safely.” + +The cocks of Medicine Woods began their second salute to dawn. At this +sound and with the mention of her name, the Harvester turned down the +hill, and striding forcefully approached the cabin. As he passed the +Girl's room he stepped softly, smiling as he wondered if its unexpected +occupants were resting. He followed Singing Water, and stood looking at +the hillside, studying the exact location most suitable for a home for +the old people he was so delighted to welcome. That they would remain +he never doubted. His faith in the call of the wild had been verified in +the Girl; it would reach them also. The hill top would bind them. Their +love for the Girl would compel them. They would be company for her and a +new interest in life. + +“Couldn't be better, not possibly!” commented the delighted Harvester. + +He followed the path down Singing Water until he reached the bridge +where it turned into the marsh. There he paused, looking straight ahead. + +“Wonder if I would frighten her?” he mused. “I believe I'll risk it.” + +He walked on rapidly, vaulted the fence enclosing his land, crossed the +road, and unlatched the gate. As he did so, the door opened, and Granny +Moreland stood on the sill, waiting with keen eyes. + +“Well I don't need neither specs nor noonday sun to see that you're +steppin' like the blue ribbon colt at the County Fair, and lookin' like +you owned Kingdom Come,” she said. “What's up, David?” + +“You are right, dear,” said the Harvester. “I have entered my kingdom. +The Girl has come and crowned me with her love. She had decided to +return, but the letters you sent made her happier about it. I wanted you +to know.” + +Granny leaned against the casing, and began to sob unrestrainedly. + +The Harvester supported her tenderly. + +“Why don't do that, dear. Don't cry,” he begged. “The Girl is home for +always, Granny, and I'm so happy I am out to-night trying to keep from +losing my mind with joy. She will come to you to-morrow, I know.” + +Granny tremulously dried her eyes. + +“What an old sap-head I am!” she commented. “I stole your letters from +your fireplace, pitched a willer plate into the lake----you got to fish +that out, come day, David----fooled you into that trip to Doc Carey to +get him to mail them to Ruth, and never turned a hair. But after I got +home I commenced thinkin' 'twas a pretty ticklish job to stick your nose +into other people's business, an' every hour it got worse, until I ain't +had a fairly decent sleep since. If you hadn't come soon, boy, I'd 'a' +been sick a-bed. Oh, David! Are you sure she's over there, and loves you +to suit you now?” + +“Yes dear, I am absolutely certain,” said the Harvester. “She was so +determined to come that she brought the invalid grandmother she couldn't +leave and her grandfather. They arrived at midnight. We are all going to +live together now.” + +“Well bless my stars! Fetched you a family! David, I do hope to all +that's peaceful I hain't put my foot in it. The moon is the deceivingest +thing on earth I know, but does her family 'pear to be an a-gre'-able +family, by its light?” + +The Harvester's laugh boomed a half mile down the road. + +“Finest people on earth, next to you, dear. I'm mighty glad to have +them. I'm going to build them a house on my best location, and we are +all going to be happy from now on. Go to bed! This night air may chill +you. I can't sleep. I wanted you to know first----so I came over. In +mother's stead, will you kiss me, and wish me happiness, dear friend?” + +Granny Moreland laid an eager, withered hand on each shoulder, and bent +to the radiant young face. + +“God bless you, lad, and grant you as great happiness as life ort to +fetch every clean, honest man,” she prayed fervently, with closed eyes +and her lined old face turned skyward. “And, O God, bless Ruth, and help +her as You never helped mortal woman before to know her own mind without +'variableness, neither shadow of turnin'.'” + +The Harvester was on Singing Water bridge before he gave way. There he +laughed as never before in his life. Finally he controlled himself +and started toward the cabin; but he was chuckling as he passed the +driveway, and walked down the broad cement floor leading to his bathing +pool, where the moonlight bridged the lake, and fell as a benediction +all around him. + +He stood a long time, when he recognized the familiar crash of a +breaking backlog falling together, and heard the customary leap of the +frightened dog. He walked to his door and listened intently, but there +was no sound; so he decided the Girl had not been awakened. In the midst +of a whitening sheet of gold the Harvester dropped to his stoop and +leaned his head against the broad casing. He broke a twig from a +hawthorn bush beside him, and sat twisting it in his fingers as +he stared down the line of the gold bridge. Never had it seemed so +material, so like a path that might be trodden by mortal feet and lead +them straight to Heaven. As on the hill top, night again surrounded him +and the Harvester's soul drank deep wild draughts of a new joy. Sleep +was out of the question. He was too intensely alive to know that he ever +again could be weary. He sat there in the moonlight, and with unbridled +heart gloried in the joy that had come to him. + +He turned his face from the bridge as he heard the click of Belshazzar's +nails on the floor of the bathing pool. Then his heart and breath +stopped an instant. Beside the dog walked the Girl, one hand on his head +the other holding the flowing white robe around her and grasping one of +the Harvester's lilies. His first thought was sheer amazement that she +was not afraid, for it was evident now that the backlog had awakened +her, and she had taken the dog and gone to her mother. Then she had +followed the path leading down the hill, around the cabin, and into the +sheet of moonlight gilding the shore. She stood there gazing over +the lake, oblivious to all things save the entrancing allurement of +a perfect spring night beside undulant water. Screened from her with +bushes and trees the Harvester scarcely breathed lest he startle her. +Then his head swam, and his still heart leaped wildly. She was coming +toward him. On her left lay the path to the hill top. A few steps +farther she could turn to the right and follow the driveway to the front +of the cabin. He leaned forward watching in an agony of suspense. Her +beautiful face was transfigured with joy, aflame with love, radiant with +smiles, and her tall figure fleecy white, rimmed in gold. Up the shining +path of light she steadily advanced toward his door. Then the Harvester +understood, and from his exultant heart burst the wordless petition: + +“LORD GOD ALMIGHTY, HELP ME TO BE A MAN!” + +With outstretched arms he arose to meet her. + +“My Dream Girl!” he cried hoarsely. “My Dream Girl!” + +“Coming, Harvester!” she answered in tones of joy, as she dropped the +white flower and lifted her hands to draw his face toward her. + +“Is that the kiss you wanted?” she questioned. + +“Yes, Ruth,” breathed the Harvester. + +“Then I am ready to be your wife,” she said. “May I share all the +remainder of life's joys and sorrows with you?” + +The Harvester gathered her in his arms and carried her to the bench on +the lake shore. He wrapped the white robe around her and clasped her +tenderly as behooved a lover, yet with arms that she knew could have +crushed her had they willed. The minutes slipped away, and still he held +her to his heart, the reality far surpassing his dream; for he knew that +he was awake, and he realized this as the supreme hour that comes to the +strongman who knows his love requited. + +When the first banner of red light arose above Medicine Woods and +Singing Water the cocks on the hillside announced the dawn. As the gold +faded to gray, a burst of bubbling notes swelled from a branch almost +over their heads where stood a bark-enclosed little house. + +“Ruth, do you hear that?” asked the Harvester softly. + +“Yes,” she answered, “and I see it. A wonderful bird, with Heaven's +deepest blue on its back and a breast like a russet autumn leaf, came +straight up the lake from the south, and before it touched the limb that +song seemed to gush from its throat.” + +“And for that reason, the greatest nature lover who ever lived says +that it 'deserves preeminence.' It always settles from its long voyage +through the air in an ecstasy of melody. Do you know what it is, Ruth?” + +The Girl laid a hand on his cheek and turned his eyes from the bird to +her face as she answered, “Yes, Harvester-man, I know. It is your first +bluebird----but it is far too late, and Belshazzar has lost high office. +I have usurped both their positions. You remain in the woods and reap +their harvest, you enter the laboratory and make wonderful, life-giving +medicines, you face the world and tell men of the high and holy life +they may live if they will, and then----always and forever, you come +back to Medicine Woods and to me, Harvester.” + + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HARVESTER *** + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will +be renamed. + +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the +United States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, +and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following +the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use +of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for +copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very +easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation +of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project +Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may +do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected +by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark +license, especially commercial redistribution. + +START: FULL LICENSE + +THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE +PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK + +To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free +distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work +(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full +Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at +www.gutenberg.org/license. + +Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works + +1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ +electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to +and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property +(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all +the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or +destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your +possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a +Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound +by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the +person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph +1.E.8. + +1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be +used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who +agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few +things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See +paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this +agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. + +1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the +Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection +of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual +works in the collection are in the public domain in the United +States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the +United States and you are located in the United States, we do not +claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, +displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as +all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope +that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting +free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ +works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the +Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily +comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the +same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when +you share it without charge with others. + +1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern +what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are +in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, +check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this +agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, +distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any +other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no +representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any +country other than the United States. + +1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: + +1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other +immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear +prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work +on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the +phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, +performed, viewed, copied or distributed: + + This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and + most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no + restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it + under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this + eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the + United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where + you are located before using this eBook. + +1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is +derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not +contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the +copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in +the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are +redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project +Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply +either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or +obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ +trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted +with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution +must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any +additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms +will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works +posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the +beginning of this work. + +1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ +License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this +work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. + +1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this +electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without +prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with +active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project +Gutenberg™ License. + +1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, +compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including +any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access +to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format +other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official +version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website +(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense +to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means +of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain +Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the +full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. + +1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, +performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works +unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. + +1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing +access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works +provided that: + +• You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from + the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method + you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed + to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has + agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid + within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are + legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty + payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project + Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in + Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg + Literary Archive Foundation.” + +• You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies + you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he + does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ + License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all + copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue + all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ + works. + +• You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of + any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the + electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of + receipt of the work. + +• You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free + distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. + +1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than +are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing +from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of +the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set +forth in Section 3 below. + +1.F. + +1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable +effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread +works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project +Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may +contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate +or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other +intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or +other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or +cannot be read by your equipment. + +1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right +of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project +Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project +Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all +liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal +fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT +LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE +PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE +TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE +LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR +INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH +DAMAGE. + +1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a +defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can +receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a +written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you +received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium +with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you +with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in +lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person +or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second +opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If +the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing +without further opportunities to fix the problem. + +1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth +in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you “AS-IS”, WITH NO +OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT +LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. + +1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied +warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of +damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement +violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the +agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or +limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or +unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the +remaining provisions. + +1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the +trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone +providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in +accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the +production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ +electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, +including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of +the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this +or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or +additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any +Defect you cause. + +Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ + +Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of +electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of +computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It +exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations +from people in all walks of life. + +Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the +assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™'s +goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will +remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project +Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure +and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future +generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see +Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at +www.gutenberg.org + +Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation + +The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit +501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the +state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal +Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification +number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by +U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. + +The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, +Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up +to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website +and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact + +Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg +Literary Archive Foundation + +Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without +widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of +increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be +freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest +array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations +($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt +status with the IRS. + +The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating +charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United +States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a +considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up +with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations +where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND +DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular +state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate + +While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we +have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition +against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who +approach us with offers to donate. + +International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make +any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from +outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. + +Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation +methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other +ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To +donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate + +Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works + +Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project +Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be +freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and +distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of +volunteer support. + +Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in +the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not +necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper +edition. + +Most people start at our website which has the main PG search +facility: www.gutenberg.org + +This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + |