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diff --git a/3492-h/3492-h.htm b/3492-h/3492-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..adfe59c --- /dev/null +++ b/3492-h/3492-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9360 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Homespun Tales, by Kate Douglas Wiggin + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Homespun Tales, by Kate Douglas Wiggin + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: Homespun Tales + +Author: Kate Douglas Wiggin + +Release Date: February 1, 2009 [EBook #3492] +Last Updated: March 10, 2018 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMESPUN TALES *** + + + + +Produced by A Elizabeth Warren, and David Widger + + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h1> + HOMESPUN TALES + </h1> + <p> + <br /><br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Kate Douglas Wiggin + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_INTR" id="link2H_INTR"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Introduction + </h2> + <p> + These three stories are now brought together under one cover because they + have not quite outworn their welcome; but in their first estate two of + them appeared as gift-books, with decorative borders and wide margins, a + style not compatible with the stringent economies of the present moment. + Luckily they belong together by reason of their background, which is an + imaginary village, any village you choose, within the confines, or on the + borders of York County, in the State of Maine. + </p> + <p> + In the first tale the river, not “Rose,” is the principal character; no + one realizes this better than I. If an author spends her summers on the + banks of Saco Water it fills the landscape. It flows from the White + Mountains to the Atlantic in a tempestuous torrent, breaking here and + there into glorious falls of amber glimpsed through snowy foam; its rapids + dash through rocky cliffs crowned with pine trees, under which blue + harebells and rosy columbines blossom in gay profusion. There is the glint + of the mirror-like lake above the falls, and the sound of the surging + floods below; the witchery of feathery elms reflected in its clear + surfaces, and the enchantment of the full moon on its golden torrents, + never twice alike and always beautiful! How is one to forget, evade, + scorn, belittle it, by leaving its charms untold; and who could keep such + a river out of a book? It has flowed through many of mine and the last + sound I expect to hear in life will be the faint, far-away murmur of Saco + Water! + </p> + <p> + The old Tory Hill Meeting House bulks its way into the foreground of the + next story, and the old Peabody Pew (which never existed) has somehow + assumed a quasi-historical aspect never intended by its author. There is a + Dorcas Society, and there is a meeting house; my dedication assures the + reader of these indubitable facts; and the Dorcas Society, in a season of + temporary bankruptcy, succeeding a too ample generosity, did scrub the + pews when there was no money for paint. Rumors of our strenuous, and + somewhat unique, activities spread through our parish to many others, + traveling so far (even over seas) that we became embarrassed at our easily + won fame. The book was read and people occasionally came to church to see + the old Peabody Pew, rather resenting the information that there had never + been any Peabodys in the parish and, therefore, there could be no Peabody + Pew. Matters became worse when I made, very reverently, what I suppose + must be called a dramatic version of the book, which we have played for + several summers in the old meeting house to audiences far exceeding our + seating capacity. Inasmuch as the imaginary love-tale of my so-called + Nancy Wentworth and Justin Peabody had begun under the shadow of the + church steeple, and after the ten years of parting the happy reunion had + come to them in the selfsame place, it was possible to present their story + simply and directly, without offense, in a church building. There was no + curtain, no stage, no scenery, no theatricalism. The pulpit was moved + back, and four young pine trees were placed in front of it for supposed + Christmas decoration. The pulpit platform, and the “wing pews” left vacant + for the village players, took the place of a stage; the two aisles served + for exits and entrances; and the sexton with three rings of the church + bell, announced the scenes. The Carpet Committee of the Dorcas Society + furnished the exposition of the first act, while sewing the last breadths + of the new, hardly-bought ingrain carpet. The scrubbing of the pews ends + the act, with dialogue concerning men, women, ministers, church-members + and their ways, including the utter failure of Justin Peabody, Nancy's + hero, to make a living anywhere, even in the West. The Dorcas members + leave the church for their Saturday night suppers of beans and brown + bread, but Nancy returns with her lantern at nightfall to tack down the + carpet in the old Peabody pew and iron out the tattered, dog's eared + leaves of the hymn-book from which she has so often sung “By cool Siloam's + shady rill” with her lover in days gone by. He, still a failure, having + waited for years for his luck to turn, has come back to spend Christmas in + the home of his boyhood; and seeing a dim light in the church, he enters + quietly and surprises Nancy at her task of carpeting the Peabody Pew, so + that it shall look as well as the others at next day's services. The rest + is easy to imagine. One can deny the reality of a book, but when two or + three thousand people have beheld Justin Peabody and Nancy Wentworth in + the flesh, and have seen the paint of the old Peabody Pew wiped with a + damp cloth, its cushion darned and its carpet tacked in place, it is + useless to argue; any more than it would be to deny the validity of the + egg of Columbus or the apple of William Tell. + </p> + <p> + As for “Susanna and Sue” the story would never have been written had I not + as a child and girl been driven once a year to the Shaker meeting at the + little village of Alfred, sixteen miles distant. The services were then + open to the public, but eventually permission to attend them was + withdrawn, because of the careless and sometimes irreverent behavior of + young people who regarded the Shaker costumes, the solemn dances or + marches, the rhythmic movements of the hands, the almost hypnotic + crescendo of the singing, as a sort of humorous spectacle. I learned to + know the brethren and sisters, and the Elder, as years went by, and often + went to the main house to spend a day or two as the guest of Eldress + Harriet, a saint, if ever there was one, or, later, with dear Sister + Lucinda. + </p> + <p> + The shining cleanliness and order, the frugality and industry, the + serenity and peace of these people, who had resigned the world and “life + on the plane of Adam,” vowing themselves to celibacy, to public confession + of sins, and the holding of goods in common,—all this has always had + a certain exquisite and helpful influence upon my thought, and Mr. W. D. + Howells paid a far more beautiful tribute to them in “The Undiscovered + Country.” + </p> + <p> + It is needless to say that I read every word of the book to my Shaker + friends before it was published. They took a deep interest in it, evincing + keen delight in my rather facetious but wholly imaginary portrait of + “Brother Ansel,” a “born Shaker,” and sadly confessing that my two young + lovers, “Hetty” and “Nathan,” who could not endure the rigors of the + Shaker faith and fled together in the night to marry and join the world's + people,—that this tragedy had often occurred in their community. + </p> + <p> + Here, then, are the three simple homespun tales. I believe they are true + to life as I see it. I only wish my readers might hear the ripple of the + Maine river running through them; breathe the fragrance of New England + for-ests, and though never for a moment getting, through my poor pen, the + atmosphere of Maine's rugged cliffs and the tang of her salt sea air, they + might at least believe for an instant that they had found a modest + Mayflower in her pine woods. + </p> + <p> + KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN. July, 1920. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_INTR"> Introduction </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0002"> <b>ROSE O' THE RIVER</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> I. The Pine And the Rose </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> II. “Old Kennebec” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0005"> III. The Edgewood “Drive” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0006"> IV. “Blasphemious Swearin'” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0007"> V. The Game of Jackstraws </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0008"> VI. Hearts And Other Hearts </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0009"> VII. The Little House </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0010"> VIII. The Garden of Eden </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0011"> IX. The Serpent </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0012"> X. The Turquoise Ring </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0013"> XI. Rose Sees the World </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0014"> XII. Gold and Pinchbeck </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0015"> XIII. A Country Chevalier </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0016"> XIV. Housebreaking </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0017"> XV. The Dream Room </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0018"> <b>THE OLD PEABODY PEW</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> <b>SUSANNA AND SUE</b> </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0027"> I. Mother Ann's Children </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0028"> II. A Son of Adam </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0029"> III. Divers Doctrines </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> IV. Louisa's Mind </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0031"> V. The Little Quail Bird </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0032"> VI. Susanna Speaks in Meeting </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0033"> VII. “The Lower Plane” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0034"> VIII. Concerning Backsliders </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0035"> IX. Love Manifold </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0036"> X. Brother and Sister </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0037"> XI. “The Open Door” </a> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> XII. The Hills of Home </a> + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <a name="link2H_4_0002" id="link2H_4_0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + ROSE O' THE RIVER + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. The Pine And the Rose + </h2> + <p> + It was not long after sunrise, and Stephen Waterman, fresh from his dip in + the river, had scrambled up the hillside from the hut in the alder-bushes + where he had made his morning toilet. + </p> + <p> + An early ablution of this sort was not the custom of the farmers along the + banks of the Saco, but the Waterman house was hardly a stone's throw from + the water, and there was a clear, deep swimming-hole in the Willow Cove + that would have tempted the busiest man, or the least cleanly, in York + County. Then, too, Stephen was a child of the river, born, reared, + schooled on its very brink, never happy unless he were on it, or in it, or + beside it, or at least within sight or sound of it. + </p> + <p> + The immensity of the sea had always silenced and overawed him, left him + cold in feeling. The river wooed him, caressed him, won his heart. It was + just big enough to love. It was full of charms and changes, of varying + moods and sudden surprises. Its voice stole in upon his ear with a melody + far sweeter and more subtle than the boom of the ocean. Yet it was not + without strength, and when it was swollen with the freshets of the spring + and brimming with the bounty of its sister streams, it could dash and + roar, boom and crash, with the best of them. + </p> + <p> + Stephen stood on the side porch, drinking in the glory of the sunrise, + with the Saco winding like a silver ribbon through the sweet loveliness of + the summer landscape. + </p> + <p> + And the river rolled on toward the sea, singing its morning song, creating + and nourishing beauty at every step of its onward path. Cradled in the + heart of a great mountain-range, it pursued its gleaming way, here lying + silent in glassy lakes, there rushing into tinkling little falls, foaming + great falls, and thundering cataracts. Scores of bridges spanned its + width, but no steamers flurried its crystal depths. Here and there a rough + little rowboat, tethered to a willow, rocked to and fro in some quiet bend + of the shore. Here the silver gleam of a rising perch, chub, or trout + caught the eye; there a pickerel lay rigid in the clear water, a fish + carved in stone: here eels coiled in the muddy bottom of some pool; and + there, under the deep shadows of the rocks, lay fat, sleepy bass, old, and + incredibly wise, quite untempted by, and wholly superior to, the rural + fisherman's worm. + </p> + <p> + The river lapped the shores of peaceful meadows; it flowed along banks + green with maple, beech, sycamore, and birch; it fell tempestuously over + dams and fought its way between rocky cliffs crowned with stately firs. It + rolled past forests of pine and hemlock and spruce, now gentle, now + terrible; for there is said to be an Indian curse upon the Saco, whereby, + with every great sun, the child of a paleface shall be drawn into its + cruel depths. Lashed into fury by the stony reefs that impeded its + progress, the river looked now sapphire, now gold, now white, now leaden + gray; but always it was hurrying, hurrying on its appointed way to the + sea. + </p> + <p> + After feasting his eyes and filling his heart with a morning draught of + beauty, Stephen went in from the porch and, pausing at the stairway, + called in stentorian tones: “Get up and eat your breakfast, Rufus! The + boys will be picking the side jams today, and I'm going down to work on + the logs. If you come along, bring your own pick-pole and peavey.” Then, + going to the kitchen pantry, he collected, from the various shelves, a + pitcher of milk, a loaf of bread, half an apple pie, and a bowl of + blueberries, and, with the easy methods of a household unswayed by + feminine rule, moved toward a seat under an apple tree and took his + morning meal in great apparent content. Having finished, and washed his + dishes with much more thoroughness than is common to unsuperintended man, + and having given Rufus the second call to breakfast with the vigor and + acrimony that usually mark that unpleasant performance, he strode to a + high point on the riverbank and, shading his eyes with his hand, gazed + steadily downstream. + </p> + <p> + Patches of green fodder and blossoming potatoes melted into soft fields + that had been lately mown, and there were glimpses of tasseling corn + rising high to catch the sun. Far, far down on the opposite bank of the + river was the hint of a brown roof, and the tip of a chimney that sent a + slender wisp of smoke into the clear air. Beyond this, and farther back + from the water, the trees apparently hid a cluster of other chimneys, for + thin spirals of smoke ascended here and there. The little brown roof could + never have revealed itself to any but a lover's eye; and that discerned + something even smaller, something like a pinkish speck, that moved hither + and thither on a piece of greensward that sloped to the waterside. + </p> + <p> + “She's up!” Stephen exclaimed under his breath, his eyes shining, his lips + smiling. His voice had a note of hushed exaltation about it, as if “she,” + whoever she might be, had, in condescending to rise, conferred a priceless + boon upon a waiting universe. If she were indeed “up” (so his tone + implied), then the day, somewhat falsely heralded by the sunrise, had + really begun, and the human race might pursue its appointed tasks, + inspired and uplifted by the consciousness of her existence. It might + properly be grateful for the fact of her birth; that she had grown to + woman's estate; and, above all, that, in common with the sun, the lark, + the morning-glory, and other beautiful things of the early day, she was up + and about her lovely, cheery, heart-warming business. + </p> + <p> + The handful of chimneys and the smoke-spirals rising here and there among + the trees on the river-bank belonged to what was known as the Brier + Neighborhood. There were only a few houses in all, scattered along a side + road leading from the river up to Liberty Center. There were no great + signs of thrift or prosperity, but the Wiley cottage, the only one near + the water, was neat and well cared for, and Nature had done her best to + conceal man's indolence, poverty, or neglect. + </p> + <p> + Bushes of sweetbrier grew in fragrant little forests as tall as the + fences. Clumps of wild roses sprang up at every turn, and over all the + stone walls, as well as on every heap of rocks by the wayside, prickly + blackberry vines ran and clambered and clung, yielding fruit and thorns + impartially to the neighborhood children. + </p> + <p> + The pinkish speck that Stephen Waterman had spied from his side of the + river was Rose Wiley of the Brier Neighborhood on the Edgewood side. As + there was another of her name on Brigadier Hill, the Edgewood minister + called one of them the climbing Rose and the other the brier Rose, or + sometimes Rose of the river. She was well named, the pinkish speck. She + had not only some of the sweetest attributes of the wild rose, but the + parallel might have been extended as far as the thorns, for she had + wounded her scores,—hearts, be it understood, not hands. The + wounding was, on the whole, very innocently done; and if fault could be + imputed anywhere, it might rightly have been laid at the door of the kind + powers who had made her what she was, since the smile that blesses a + single heart is always destined to break many more. + </p> + <p> + She had not a single silk gown, but she had what is far better, a figure + to show off a cotton one. Not a brooch nor a pair of earrings was numbered + among her possessions, but any ordinary gems would have looked rather dull + and trivial when compelled to undergo comparison with her bright eyes. As + to her hair, the local milliner declared it impossible for Rose Wiley to + get an unbecoming hat; that on one occasion, being in a frolicsome mood, + Rose had tried on all the headgear in the village emporium,—children's + gingham “Shakers,” mourning bonnets for aged dames, men's haying hats and + visored caps,—and she proved superior to every test, looking as + pretty as a pink in the best ones and simply ravishing in the worst. In + fact, she had been so fashioned and finished by Nature that, had she been + set on a revolving pedestal in a show-window, the bystanders would have + exclaimed, as each new charm came into view: “Look at her waist! See her + shoulders! And her neck and chin! And her hair!” While the children, + gazing with raptured admiration, would have shrieked, in unison, “I choose + her for mine.” + </p> + <p> + All this is as much as to say that Rose of the river was a beauty, yet it + quite fails to explain, nevertheless, the secret of her power. When she + looked her worst the spell was as potent as when she looked her best. + Hidden away somewhere was a vital spark which warmed every one who came in + contact with it. Her lovely little person was a trifle below medium + height, and it might as well be confessed that her soul, on the morning + when Stephen Waterman saw her hanging out the clothes on the river-bank, + was not large enough to be at all out of proportion; but when eyes and + dimples, lips and cheeks, enslave the onlooker, the soul is seldom + subjected to a close or critical scrutiny. Besides, Rose Wiley was a nice + girl, neat as wax, energetic, merry, amiable, economical. She was a + dutiful granddaughter to two of the most irritating old people in the + county; she never patronized her pug-nosed, pasty-faced girl friends; she + made wonderful pies and doughnuts; and besides, small souls, if they are + of the right sort, sometimes have a way of growing, to the discomfiture of + cynics and the gratification of the angels. + </p> + <p> + So, on one bank of the river grew the brier rose, a fragile thing, swaying + on a slender stalk and looking at its pretty reflection in the water; and + on the other a sturdy pine tree, well rooted against wind and storm. And + the sturdy pine yearned for the wild rose; and the rose, so far as it + knew, yearned for nothing at all, certainly not for rugged pine trees + standing tall and grim in rocky soil. If, in its present stage of + development, it gravitated toward anything in particular, it would have + been a well-dressed white birch growing on an irreproachable lawn. + </p> + <p> + And the river, now deep, now shallow, now smooth, now tumultuous, now + sparkling in sunshine, now gloomy under clouds, rolled on to the engulfing + sea. It could not stop to concern itself with the petty comedies and + tragedies that were being enacted along its shores, else it would never + have reached its destination. Only last night, under a full moon, there + had been pairs of lovers leaning over the rails of all the bridges along + its course; but that was a common sight, like that of the ardent couples + sitting on its shady banks these summer days, looking only into each + other's eyes, but exclaiming about the beauty of the water. Lovers would + come and go, sometimes reappearing with successive installments of loves + in a way wholly mysterious to the river. Meantime it had its own work to + do and must be about it, for the side jams were to be broken and the boom + “let out” at the Edgewood bridge. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. “Old Kennebec” + </h2> + <p> + It was just seven o'clock that same morning when Rose Wiley smoothed the + last wrinkle from her dimity counterpane, picked up a shred of corn-husk + from the spotless floor under the bed, slapped a mosquito on the + window-sill, removed all signs of murder with a moist towel, and before + running down to breakfast cast a frowning look at her pincushion. Almira, + otherwise “Mite,” Shapley had been in her room the afternoon before and + disturbed with her careless hand the pattern of Rose's pins. They were + kept religiously in the form of a Maltese cross; and if, while she was + extricating one from her clothing, there had been an alarm of fire, Rose + would have stuck the pin in its appointed place in the design, at the risk + of losing her life. + </p> + <p> + Entering the kitchen with her light step, she brought the morning sunshine + with her. The old people had already engaged in differences of opinion, + but they commonly suspended open warfare in her presence. There were the + usual last things to be done for breakfast, offices that belonged to her + as her grandmother's assistant. She took yesterday's soda biscuits out of + the steamer where they were warming and softening; brought an apple pie + and a plate of seed cakes from the pantry; settled the coffee with a piece + of dried fish skin and an egg shell; and transferred some fried potatoes + from the spider to a covered dish. + </p> + <p> + “Did you remember the meat, grandpa? We're all out,” she said, as she + began buttoning a stiff collar around his reluctant neck. + </p> + <p> + “Remember? Land, yes! I wish't I ever could forgit anything! The butcher + says he's 'bout tired o' travelin' over the country lookin' for critters + to kill, but if he finds anything he'll be up along in the course of a + week. He ain't a real smart butcher, Cyse Higgins ain't.—Land, Rose, + don't button that dickey clean through my epperdummis! I have to sport + starched collars in this life on account o' you and your gran'mother bein' + so chock full o' style; but I hope to the Lord I shan't have to wear 'em + in another world!” + </p> + <p> + “You won't,” his wife responded with the snap of a dish towel, “or if you + do, they'll wilt with the heat.” + </p> + <p> + Rose smiled, but the soft hand with which she tied the neckcloth about the + old man's withered neck pacified his spirit, and he smiled knowingly back + at her as she took her seat at the breakfast table spread near the open + kitchen door. She was a dazzling Rose, and, it is to be feared, a wasted + one, for there was no one present to observe her clean pink calico and the + still more subtle note struck in the green ribbon which was tied round her + throat,—the ribbon that formed a sort of calyx, out of which sprang + the flower of her face, as fresh and radiant as if it had bloomed that + morning. + </p> + <p> + “Give me my coffee turrible quick,” said Mr. Wiley; “I must be down to the + bridge 'fore they start dog-warpin' the side jam.” + </p> + <p> + “I notice you're always due at the bridge on churnin' days,” remarked his + spouse, testily. + </p> + <p> + “'T ain't me as app'ints drivin' dates at Edgewood,” replied the old man. + “The boys'll hev a turrible job this year. The logs air ricked up jest + like Rose's jack-straws; I never see 'em so turrible ricked up in all my + exper'ence; an' Lije Dennett don' know no more 'bout pickin' a jam than + Cooper's cow. Turrible sot in his ways, too; can't take a mite of advice. + I was tellin' him how to go to work on that bung that's formed between the + gre't gray rock an' the shore,—the awfullest place to bung that + there is between this an' Biddeford,—and says he: 'Look here, I've + be'n boss on this river for twelve year, an' I'll be doggoned if I'm goin' + to be taught my business by any man!' 'This ain't no river,' says I, 'as + you'd know,' says I, 'if you'd ever lived on the Kennebec.' 'Pity you hed + n't stayed on it,' says he. 'I wish to the land I hed,' says I. An' then I + come away, for my tongue's so turrible spry an' sarcustic that I knew if I + stopped any longer I should stir up strife. There's some folks that'll set + on addled aigs year in an' year out, as if there wa'n't good fresh ones + bein' laid every day; an' Lije Dennett's one of 'em, when it comes to + river-drivin'.” + </p> + <p> + “There's lots o' folks as have made a good livin' by mindin' their own + business,” observed the still sententious Mrs. Wiley, as she speared a + soda biscuit with her fork. + </p> + <p> + “Mindin' your own business is a turrible selfish trade,” responded her + husband loftily. “If your neighbor is more ignorant than what you are,—partic'larly + if he's as ignorant as Cooper's cow,—you'd ought, as a Kennebec man + an' a Christian, to set him on the right track, though it's always a + turrible risky thing to do.” Rose's grandfather was called, by the + irreverent younger generation, sometimes “Turrible Wiley” and sometimes + “Old Kennebec,” because of the frequency with which these words appeared + in his conversation. There were not wanting those of late who dubbed him + Uncle Ananias, for reasons too obvious to mention. After a long, indolent, + tolerably truthful, and useless life, he had, at seventy-five, lost sight + of the dividing line between fact and fancy, and drew on his imagination + to such an extent that he almost staggered himself when he began to + indulge in reminiscence. He was a feature of the Edgewood “drive,” being + always present during the five or six days that it was in progress, + sometimes sitting on the river-bank, sometimes leaning over the bridge, + sometimes reclining against the butt-end of a huge log, but always chewing + tobacco and expectorating to incredible distances as he criticized and + damned impartially all the expedients in use at the particular moment. + </p> + <p> + “I want to stay down by the river this afternoon,” said Rose. “Ever so + many of the girls will be there, and all my sewing is done up. If grandpa + will leave the horse for me, I'll take the drivers' lunch to them at noon, + and bring the dishes back in time to wash them before supper.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you can go, if the rest do,” said her grandmother, “though it's + an awful lazy way of spendin' an afternoon. When I was a girl there was no + such dawdlin' goin' on, I can tell you. Nobody thought o' lookin' at the + river in them days; there was n't time.” + </p> + <p> + “But it's such fun to watch the logs!” Rose exclaimed. “Next to dancing, + the greatest fun in the world.” + </p> + <p> + “'Specially as all the young men in town will be there, watchin', too,” + was the grandmother's reply. “Eben Brooks an' Richard Bean got home + yesterday with their doctors' diplomas in their pockets. Mrs. Brooks says + Eben stood forty-nine in a class o' fifty-five, an' seemed consid'able + proud of him; an' I guess it is the first time he ever stood anywheres but + at the foot. I tell you when these fifty-five new doctors git scattered + over the country there'll be consid'able many folks keepin' house under + ground. Dick Bean's goin' to stop a spell with Rufe an' Steve Waterman. + That'll make one more to play in the river.” + </p> + <p> + “Rufus ain't hardly got his workin' legs on yit,” allowed Mr. Wiley, “but + Steve's all right. He's a turrible smart driver, an' turrible reckless, + too. He'll take all the chances there is, though to a man that's lived on + the Kennebec there ain't what can rightly be called any turrible chances + on the Saco.” + </p> + <p> + “He'd better be 'tendin' to his farm,” objected Mrs. Wiley. + </p> + <p> + “His hay is all in,” Rose spoke up quickly, “and he only helps on the + river when the farm work is n't pressing. Besides, though it's all play to + him, he earns his two dollars and a half a day.” + </p> + <p> + “He don't keer about the two and a half,” said her grandfather. “He jest + can't keep away from the logs. There's some that can't. When I first moved + here from Gard'ner, where the climate never suited me—” + </p> + <p> + “The climate of any place where you hev regular work never did an' never + will suit you,” remarked the old man's wife; but the interruption received + no comment: such mistaken views of his character were too frequent to make + any impression. + </p> + <p> + “As I was sayin', Rose,” he continued, “when we first moved here from + Gard'ner, we lived neighbor to the Watermans. Steve an' Rufus was little + boys then, always playin' with a couple o' wild cousins o' theirn, + consid'able older. Steve would scare his mother pretty nigh to death + stealin' away to the mill to ride on the 'carriage,' 'side o' the log that + was bein' sawed, hitchin' clean out over the river an' then jerkin' back + 'most into the jaws o' the machinery.” + </p> + <p> + “He never hed any common sense to spare, even when he was a young one,” + remarked Mrs. Wiley; “and I don't see as all the 'cademy education his + father throwed away on him has changed him much.” And with this + observation she rose from the table and went to the sink. + </p> + <p> + “Steve ain't nobody's fool,” dissented the old man; “but he's kind o' daft + about the river. When he was little he was allers buildin' dams in the + brook, an' sailin' chips, an' runnin' on the logs; allers choppin' up + stickins an' raftin' 'em together in the pond. I cai'late Mis' Waterman + died consid'able afore her time, jest from fright, lookin' out the winders + and seein' her boys slippin' between the logs an' gittin' their daily + dousin'. She could n't understand it, an' there's a heap o' things + women-folks never do an' never can understand,—jest because they <i>air</i> + women-folks.” + </p> + <p> + “One o' the things is men, I s'pose,” interrupted Mrs. Wiley. + </p> + <p> + “Men in general, but more partic'larly husbands,” assented Old Kennebec; + “howsomever, there's another thing they don't an' can't never take in, an' + that's sport. Steve does river-drivin' as he would horse-racin' or + tiger-shootin' or tight-rope dancin'; an' he always did from a boy. When + he was about twelve to fifteen, he used to help the river-drivers spring + and fall, reg'lar. He could n't do nothin' but shin up an' down the rocks + after hammers an' hatchets an' ropes, but he was turrible pleased with his + job. 'Stepanfetchit,' they used to call him them days,—Stepanfetchit + Waterman.” + </p> + <p> + “Good name for him yet,” came in acid tones from the sink. “He's still + steppin' an' fetchin', only it's Rose that's doin' the drivin' now.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not driving anybody, that I know of,” answered Rose, with heightened + color, but with no loss of her habitual self-command. + </p> + <p> + “Then, when he graduated from errants,” went on the crafty old man, who + knew that when breakfast ceased, churning must begin, “Steve used to get + seventy-five cents a day helpin' clear up the river—if you can call + this here silv'ry streamlet a river. He'd pick off a log here an' there + an' send it afloat, an' dig out them that hed got ketched in the rocks, + and tidy up the banks jest like spring house-cleanin'. If he'd hed any + kind of a boss, an' hed be'n trained on the Kennebec, he'd 'a' made a + turrible smart driver, Steve would.” + </p> + <p> + “He'll be drownded, that's what'll become o' him,” prophesied Mrs. Wiley; + “specially if Rose encourages him in such silly foolishness as ridin' logs + from his house down to ourn, dark nights.” + </p> + <p> + “Seein' as how Steve built ye a nice pigpen last month, 'pears to me you + might have a good word for him now an' then, mother,” remarked Old + Kennebec, reaching for his second piece of pie. + </p> + <p> + “I wa'n't a mite deceived by that pigpen, no more'n I was by Jed Towle's + hencoop, nor Ivory Dunn's well-curb, nor Pitt Packard's shed-steps. If you + hed ever kep' up your buildin's yourself, Rose's beaux would n't hev to do + their courtin' with carpenters' tools.” + </p> + <p> + “It's the pigpen an' the hencoop you want to keep your eye on, mother, not + the motives of them as made 'em. It's turrible onsettlin' to inspeck + folks' motives too turrible close.” + </p> + <p> + “Riding a log is no more to Steve than riding a horse, so he says,” + interposed Rose, to change the subject; “but I tell him that a horse does + n't revolve under you, and go sideways at the same time that it is going + forwards.” + </p> + <p> + “Log-ridin' ain't no trick at all to a man of sperit,” said Mr. Wiley. + “There's a few places in the Kennebec where the water's too shaller to let + the logs float, so we used to build a flume, an' the logs would whiz down + like arrers shot from a bow. The boys used to collect by the side o' that + there flume to see me ride a log down, an' I've watched 'em drop in a dead + faint when I spun by the crowd; but land! you can't drownd some folks, not + without you tie nail-kags to their head an' feet an' drop 'em in the + falls; I've rid logs down the b'ilin'est rapids o' the Kennebec an' never + lost my head. I remember well the year o' the gre't freshet, I rid a log + from—” + </p> + <p> + “There, there, father, that'll do,” said Mrs. Wiley, decisively. “I'll put + the cream in the churn, an' you jest work off' some o' your steam by + bringin' the butter for us afore you start for the bridge. It don't do no + good to brag afore your own women-folks; work goes consid'able better'n + stories at every place 'cept the loafers' bench at the tavern.” + </p> + <p> + And the baffled raconteur, who had never done a piece of work cheerfully + in his life, dragged himself reluctantly to the shed, where, before long, + one could hear him moving the dasher up and down sedately to his favorite + “churning tune” of + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Broad is the road that leads to death, + And thousands walk together there; + But Wisdom shows a narrow path, + With here and there a traveler. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0005" id="link2H_4_0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. The Edgewood “Drive” + </h2> + <p> + Just where the bridge knits together the two little villages of Pleasant + River and Edgewood, the glassy mirror of the Saco broadens suddenly, + sweeping over the dam in a luminous torrent. Gushes of pure amber mark the + middle of the dam, with crystal and silver at the sides, and from the + seething vortex beneath the golden cascade the white spray dashes up in + fountains. In the crevices and hollows of the rocks the mad water churns + itself into snowy froth, while the foam-flecked torrent, deep, strong, and + troubled to its heart, sweeps majestically under the bridge, then dashes + between wooded shores piled high with steep masses of rock, or torn and + riven by great gorges. + </p> + <p> + There had been much rain during the summer, and the Saco was very high, so + on the third day of the Edgewood drive there was considerable excitement + at the bridge, and a goodly audience of villagers from both sides of the + river. There were some who never came, some who had no fancy for the + sight, some to whom it was an old story, some who were too busy, but there + were many to whom it was the event of events, a never-ending source of + interest. + </p> + <p> + Above the fall, covering the placid surface of the river, thousands of + logs lay quietly “in boom” until the “turning out” process, on the last + day of the drive, should release them and give them their chance of + display, their brief moment of notoriety, their opportunity of + interesting, amusing, exciting, and exasperating the onlookers by their + antics. + </p> + <p> + Heaps of logs had been cast up on the rocks below the dam, where they lay + in hopeless confusion, adding nothing, however, to the problem of the + moment, for they too bided their time. If they had possessed wisdom, + discretion, and caution, they might have slipped gracefully over the falls + and, steering clear of the hidden ledges (about which it would seem they + must have heard whispers from the old pine trees along the river), have + kept a straight course and reached their destination without costing the + Edgewood Lumber Company a small fortune. Or, if they had inclined toward a + jolly and adventurous career, they could have joined one of the various + jams or “bungs,” stimulated by the thought that any one of them might be a + key-log, holding for a time the entire mass in its despotic power. But + they had been stranded early in the game, and, after lying high and dry + for weeks, would be picked off one by one and sent downstream. + </p> + <p> + In the tumultuous boil, the foaming hubbub and flurry at the foot of the + falls, one enormous peeled log wallowed up and clown like a huge + rhinoceros, greatly pleasing the children by its clumsy cavortings. Some + conflict of opposing forces kept it ever in motion, yet never set it free. + Below the bridge were always the real battle-grounds, the scenes of the + first and the fiercest conflicts. A ragged ledge of rock, standing well + above the yeasty torrent, marked the middle of the river. Stephen had been + stranded there once, just at dusk, on a stormy afternoon in spring. A jam + had broken under the men, and Stephen, having taken too great risks, had + been caught on the moving mass, and, leaping from log to log, his only + chance for life had been to find a footing on Gray Rock, which was nearer + than the shore. + </p> + <p> + Rufus was ill at the time, and Mrs. Waterman so anxious and nervous that + processions of boys had to be sent up to the River Farm, giving the + frightened mother the latest bulletins of her son's welfare. Luckily, the + river was narrow just at the Gray Rock, and it was a quite possible task, + though no easy one, to lash two ladders together and make a narrow bridge + on which the drenched and shivering man could reach the shore. There were + loud cheers when Stephen ran lightly across the slender pathway that led + to safety—ran so fast that the ladders had scarce time to bend + beneath his weight. He had certainly “taken chances,” but when did he not + do that? The logger's life is one of “moving accidents by flood and + field,” and Stephen welcomed with wild exhilaration every hazard that came + in his path. To him there was never a dull hour from the moment that the + first notch was cut in the tree (for he sometimes joined the boys in the + lumber camp just for a frolic) till the later one when the hewn log + reached its final destination. He knew nothing of “tooling” a four-in-hand + through narrow lanes or crowded thoroughfares,—nothing of guiding a + horse over the hedges and through the pitfalls of a stiff bit of hunting + country; his steed was the rearing, plunging, kicking log, and he rode it + like a river god. + </p> + <p> + The crowd loves daring, and so it welcomed Stephen with bravos, but it + knew, as he knew, that he was only doing his duty by the Company, only + showing the Saco that man was master, only keeping the old Waterman name + in good repute. “Ye can't drownd some folks,” Old Kennebec had said, as he + stood in a group on the shore; “not without you tie sand-bags to 'em an' + drop 'em in the Great Eddy. I'm the same kind; I remember when I was + stranded on jest sech a rock in the Kennebec, only they left me there all + night for dead, an' I had to swim the rapids when it come daylight.” + </p> + <p> + “We're well acquainted with that rock and them rapids,” exclaimed one of + the river-drivers, to the delight of the company. + </p> + <p> + Rose had reason to remember Stephen's adventure, for he had clambered up + the bank, smiling and blushing under the hurrahs of the boys, and, coming + to the wagon where she sat waiting for her grandfather, had seized a + moment to whisper: “Did you care whether I came across safe, Rose? Say you + did!” + </p> + <p> + Stephen recalled that question, too, on this August morning; perhaps + because this was to be a red-letter day, and some time, when he had a free + moment,—some time before supper, when he and Rose were sitting apart + from the others, watching the logs,—he intended again to ask her to + marry him. This thought trembled in him, stirring the deeps of his heart + like a great wave, almost sweeping him off his feet when he held it too + close and let it have full sway. It would be the fourth time that he had + asked Rose this question of all questions, but there was no unerceptible + difference in his excitement, for there was always the possible chance + that she might change her mind and say yes, if only for variety. Wanting a + thing continuously, unchangingly, unceasingly, year after year, he + thought,—longing to reach it as the river longed to reach the sea,—such + wanting might, in course of time, mean having. + </p> + <p> + Rose drove up to the bridge with the men's luncheon, and the under boss + came up to take the baskets and boxes from the back of the wagon. + </p> + <p> + “We've had a reg'lar tussle this mornin', Rose,” he said. “The logs are + determined not to move. Ike Billings, that's the han'somest and fluentest + all-round swearer on the Saco, has tried his best on the side jam. He's + all out o' cuss-words and there hain't a log budged. Now, stid o' + dog-warpin' this afternoon, an' lettin' the oxen haul off all them + stubborn logs by main force, we're goin' to ask you to set up on the bank + and smile at the jam. 'Land! she can do it!' says Ike a minute ago. 'When + Rose starts smilin',' he says, 'there ain't a jam nor a bung in <i>me</i> + that don't melt like wax and jest float right off same as the logs do when + they get into quiet, sunny water.'” + </p> + <p> + Rose blushed and laughed, and drove up the hill to Mite Shapley's, where + she put up the horse and waited till the men had eaten their luncheon. The + drivers slept and had breakfast and supper at the Billings house, a mile + down-river, but for several years Mrs. Wiley had furnished the noon meal, + sending it down piping hot on the stroke of twelve. The boys always said + that up or down the whole length of the Saco there was no such cooking as + the Wileys', and much of this praise was earned by Rose's serving. It was + the old grandmother who burnished the tin plates and dippers till they + looked like silver; for—crotchety and sharp-tongued as she was—she + never allowed Rose to spoil her hands with soft soap and sand: but it was + Rose who planned and packed, Rose who hemmed squares of old white + table-cloths and sheets to line the baskets and keep things daintily + separate, Rose, also, whose tarts and cakes were the pride and admiration + of church sociables and sewing societies. + </p> + <p> + Where could such smoking pots of beans be found? A murmur of ecstatic + approval ran through the crowd when the covers were removed. Pieces of + sweet home-fed pork glistened like varnished mahogany on the top of the + beans, and underneath were such deeps of fragrant juice as come only from + slow fires and long, quiet hours in brick ovens. Who else could steam and + bake such mealy loaves of brown bread, brown as plum-pudding, yet with no + suspicion of sogginess? Who such soda biscuits, big, feathery, tasting of + cream, and hardly needing butter? And green-apple pies! Could such candied + lower crusts be found elsewhere, or more delectable filling? Or such rich, + nutty doughnuts?—doughnuts that had spurned the hot fat which is the + ruin of so many, and risen from its waves like golden-brown Venuses. + </p> + <p> + “By the great seleckmen!” ejaculated Jed Towle, as he swallowed his + fourth, “I'd like to hev a wife, two daughters, and four sisters like them + Wileys, and jest set still on the river-bank an' hev 'em cook victuals for + me. I'd hev nothin' to wish for then but a mouth as big as the Saco's.” + </p> + <p> + “And I wish this custard pie was the size o' Bonnie Eagle Pond,” said Ike + Billings. “I'd like to fall into the middle of it and eat my way out!” + </p> + <p> + “Look at that bunch o' Chiny asters tied on t' the bail o' that + biscuit-pail!” said Ivory Dunn. “That's the girl's doin's, you bet; + women-folks don't seem to make no bo'quets after they git married. Let's + divide 'em up an' wear 'em drivin' this afternoon; mebbe they'll ketch the + eye so 't our rags won't show so bad. Land! it's lucky my hundred days is + about up! If I don't git home soon, I shall be arrested for goin' without + clo'es. I set up 'bout all night puttin' these blue patches in my pants + an' tryin' to piece together a couple of old red-flannel shirts to make + one whole one. That's the worst o' drivin' in these places where the + pretty girls make a habit of comin' down to the bridge to see the fun. You + hev to keep rigged up jest so stylish; you can't git no chance at the rum + bottle, an' you even hev to go a leetle mite light on swearin'.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0006" id="link2H_4_0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. “Blasphemious Swearin'” + </h2> + <p> + “Steve Waterman's an awful nice feller,” exclaimed Ivory Dunn just then. + Stephen had been looking intently across the river, watching the Shapleys' + side door, from which Rose might issue at any moment; and at this point in + the discussion he had lounged away from the group, and, moving toward the + bridge, began to throw pebbles idly into the water. + </p> + <p> + “He's an awful smart driver for one that don't foller drivin' the year + round,” continued Ivory; “and he's the awfullest clean-spoken, soft-spoken + feller I ever see.” + </p> + <p> + “There's be'n two black sheep in his family a'ready, an' Steve kind o' + feels as if he'd ought to be extry white,” remarked Jed Towle. “You + fellers that belonged to the old drive remember Pretty Quick Waterman well + enough? Steve's mother brought him up.” + </p> + <p> + Yes; most of them remembered the Waterman twins, Stephen's cousins, now + both dead,—Slow Waterman, so moderate in his steps and actions that + you had to fix a landmark somewhere near him to see if he moved; and + Pretty Quick, who shone by comparison with his twin. “I'd kind o' forgot + that Pretty Quick Waterman was cousin to Steve,” said the under boss; “he + never worked with me much, but he wa'n't cut off the same piece o' goods + as the other Watermans. Great hemlock! but he kep' a cussin' dictionary, + Pretty Quick did! Whenever he heard any new words he must 'a' writ 'em + down, an' then studied 'em all up in the winter-time, to use in the spring + drive.” + </p> + <p> + “Swearin' 's a habit that hed ought to be practiced with turrible + caution,” observed old Mr. Wiley, when the drivers had finished luncheon + and taken out their pipes. “There's three kinds o' swearin',—plain + swearin', profane swearin', an' blasphemious swearin'. Logs air jest like + mules: there's times when a man can't seem to rip up a jam in good style + 'thout a few words that's too strong for the infant classes in + Sunday-schools; but a man hed n't ought to tempt Providence. When he's + ridin' a log near the falls at high water, or cuttin' the key-log in a + jam, he ain't in no place for blasphemious swearin'; jest a little easy, + perlite 'damn' is 'bout all he can resk, if he don't want to git drownded + an' hev his ghost walkin' the river-banks till kingdom come. + </p> + <p> + “You an' I, Long, was the only ones that seen Pretty Quick go, wa'n't we?” + continued Old Kennebec, glancing at Long Abe Dennett (cousin to Short + Abe), who lay on his back in the grass, the smoke-wreaths rising from his + pipe, and the steel spikes in his heavy, calked-sole boots shining in the + sun. + </p> + <p> + “There was folks on the bridge,” Long answered, “but we was the only ones + near enough to see an' hear. It was so onexpected, an' so soon over, that + them as was watchin' upstream, where the men was to work on the falls, + would n't 'a' hed time to see him go down. But I did, an' nobody ain't + heard me swear sence, though it's ten years ago. I allers said it was rum + an' bravadder that killed Pretty Quick Waterman that day. The boys hed n't + give him a 'dare' that he hed n't took up. He seemed like he was + possessed, an' the logs was the same way; they was fairly wild, leapin' + around in the maddest kind o' water you ever see. The river was b'ilin' + high that spring; it was an awful stubborn jam, an' Pretty Quick, he'd + be'n workin' on it sence dinner.” + </p> + <p> + “He clumb up the bank more'n once to have a pull at the bottle that was + hid in the bushes,” interpolated Mr. Wiley. “Like as not; that was his + failin'. Well, most o' the boys were on the other side o' the river, + workin' above the bridge, an' the boss hed called Pretty Quick to come off + an' leave the jam till mornin', when they'd get horses an' dog-warp it + off, log by log. But when the boss got out o' sight, Pretty Quick jest + stood right still, swingin' his axe, an' blasphemin' so it would freeze + your blood, vowin' he would n't move till the logs did, if he stayed there + till the crack o' doom. Jest then a great, ponderous log, that hed be'n + churnin' up an' down in the falls for a week, got free an' come blunderin' + an' thunderin' down-river. Land! it was chock full o' water, an' looked + 'bout as big as a church! It come straight along, butt-end foremost, an' + struck that jam, full force, so 't every log in it shivered. There was a + crack,—the crack o' doom, sure enough, for Pretty Quick,—an' + one o' the logs le'p' right out an' struck him jest where he stood, with + his axe in the air, blasphemin'. The jam kind o' melted an' crumbled up, + an' in a second Pretty Quick was whirlin' in the white water. He never + riz,—at least where we could see him,—an' we did n't find him + for a week. That's the whole story, an' I guess Steve takes it as a + warnin'. Anyway, he ain't no friend to rum nor swearin', Steve ain't. He + knows Pretty Quick's ways shortened his mother's life, an' you notice what + a sharp lookout he keeps on Rufus.” + </p> + <p> + “He needs it,” Ike Billings commented tersely. + </p> + <p> + “Some men seem to lose their wits when they're workin' on logs,” observed + Mr. Wiley, who had deeply resented Long Dennett's telling of a story which + he knew fully as well and could have told much better. “Now, nat'rally, + I've seen things on the Kennebec—” + </p> + <p> + “Three cheers for the Saco! Hats off, boys!” shouted Jed Towle, and his + directions were followed with a will. + </p> + <p> + “As I was sayin',” continued the old man, peacefully, “I've seen things on + the Kennebec that would n't happen on a small river, an' I've be'n in + turrible places an' taken turrible resks resks that would 'a' turned a + Saco River man's hair white; but them is the times when my wits work the + quickest. I remember once I was smokin' my pipe when a jam broke under me. + 'T was a small jam, or what we call a small jam on the Kennebec,—only + about three hundred thousand pine logs. The first thing I knowed, I was + shootin' back an' forth in the b'ilin' foam, hangin' on t' the end of a + log like a spider. My hands was clasped round the log, and I never lost + control o' my pipe. They said I smoked right along, jest as cool an' + placid as a pond-lily.” + </p> + <p> + “Why 'd you quit drivin'?” inquired Ivory. + </p> + <p> + “My strength wa'n't ekal to it,” Mr. Wiley responded sadly. “I was all + skin, bones, an' nerve. The Comp'ny would n't part with me altogether, so + they give me a place in the office down on the wharves.” + </p> + <p> + “That wa'n't so bad,” said Jed Towle; “why did n't you hang on to it, so's + to keep in sight o' the Kennebec?” + </p> + <p> + “I found I could n't be confined under cover. My liver give all out, my + appetite failed me, an' I wa'n't wuth a day's wages. I'd learned + engineerin' when I was a boy, an' I thought I'd try runnin' on the road a + spell, but it did n't suit my constitution. My kidneys ain't turrible + strong, an' the doctors said I'd have Bright's disease if I did n't git + some kind o' work where there wa'n't no vibrations.” + </p> + <p> + “Hard to find, Mr. Wiley; hard to find!” said Jed Towle. + </p> + <p> + “You're right,” responded the old man feelingly. “I've tried all kinds o' + labor. Some of 'em don't suit my liver, some disagrees with my stomach, + and the rest of 'em has vibrations; so here I set, high an' dry on the + banks of life, you might say, like a stranded log.” + </p> + <p> + As this well-known simile fell upon the ear, there was a general stir in + the group, for Turrible Wiley, when rhetorical, sometimes grew tearful, + and this was a mood not to be encouraged. + </p> + <p> + “All right, boss,” called Ike Billings, winking to the boys; “we'll be + there in a jiffy!” for the luncheon hour had flown, and the work of the + afternoon was waiting for them. “You make a chalk-mark where you left off, + Mr. Wiley, an' we'll hear the rest tomorrer; only don't you forgit + nothin'! Remember 't was the Kennebec you was talkin' about.” + </p> + <p> + “I will, indeed,” responded the old man. “As I was sayin' when + interrupted, I may be a stranded log, but I'm proud that the mark o' the + Gard'ner Lumber Comp'ny is on me, so 't when I git to my journey's end + they'll know where I belong and send me back to the Kennebec. Before I'm + sawed up I'd like to forgit this triflin' brook in the sight of a + good-sized river, an' rest my eyes on some full-grown logs, 'stead o' + these little damn pipestems you boys are playin' with!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0007" id="link2H_4_0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. The Game of Jackstraws + </h2> + <p> + There was a roar of laughter at the old man's boast, but in a moment all + was activity. The men ran hither and thither like ants, gathering their + tools. There were some old-fashioned pick-poles, straight, heavy levers + without any “dog,” and there were modern pick-poles and peaveys, for every + river has its favorite equipment in these things. There was no dynamite in + those days to make the stubborn jams yield, and the dog-warp was in + general use. Horses or oxen, sometimes a line of men, stood on the + river-bank. A long rope was attached by means of a steel spike to one log + after another, and it was dragged from the tangled mass. Sometimes, after + unloading the top logs, those at the bottom would rise and make the task + easier; sometimes the work would go on for hours with no perceptible + progress, and Mr. Wiley would have opportunity to tell the bystanders of a + “turrible jam” on the Kennebec that had cost the Lumber Company ten + thousand dollars to break. + </p> + <p> + There would be great arguments on shore, among the villagers as well as + among the experts, as to the particular log which might be a key to the + position. The boss would study the problem from various standpoints, and + the drivers themselves would pass from heated discussion into long + consultations. + </p> + <p> + “They're paid by the day,” Old Kennebec would philosophize to the doctor; + “an' when they're consultin' they don't hev to be doggin', which is a + turrible sight harder work.” + </p> + <p> + Rose had created a small sensation, on one occasion, by pointing out to + the under boss the key-log in a jam. She was past mistress of the pretty + game of jackstraws, much in vogue at that time. The delicate little + lengths of polished wood or bone were shaken together and emptied on the + table. Each jackstraw had one of its ends fashioned in the shape of some + sort of implement,—a rake, hoe, spade, fork, or mallet. All the + pieces were intertwined by the shaking process, and they lay as they fell, + in a hopeless tangle. The task consisted in taking a tiny pick-pole, + scarcely bigger than a match, and with the bit of curved wire on the end + lifting off the jackstraws one by one without stirring the pile or making + it tremble. When this occurred, you gave place to your opponent, who + relinquished his turn to you when ill fortune descended upon him, the + game, which was a kind of river-driving and jam-picking in miniature, + being decided by the number of pieces captured and their value. No wonder + that the under boss asked Rose's advice as to the key-log. She had a + fairy's hand, and her cunning at deciding the pieces to be moved, and her + skill at extricating and lifting them from the heap, were looked upon in + Edgewood as little less than supernatural. It was a favorite pastime; and + although a man's hand is ill adapted to it, being over-large and heavy, + the game has obvious advantages for a lover in bringing his head very + close to that of his beloved adversary. The jackstraws have to be watched + with a hawk's eagerness, since the “trembling” can be discerned only by a + keen eye; but there were moments when Stephen was willing to risk the loss + of a battle if he could watch Rose's drooping eyelashes, the delicate down + on her pink cheek, and the feathery curls that broke away from her hair. + </p> + <p> + He was looking at her now from a distance, for she and Mite Shapley were + assisting Jed Towle to pile up the tin plates and tie the tin dippers + together. Next she peered into one of the bean-pots, and seemed pleased + that there was still something in its depths; then she gathered the + fragments neatly together in a basket, and, followed by her friend, + clambered down the banks to a shady spot where the Boomshers, otherwise + known as the Crambry family, were “lined up” expectantly. + </p> + <p> + It is not difficult to find a single fool in any community, however small; + but a family of fools is fortunately somewhat rarer. Every county, + however, can boast of one fool-family, and York County is always in the + fashion, with fools as with everything else. The unique, much-quoted, and + undesirable Boomshers could not be claimed as indigenous to the Saco + valley, for this branch was an offshoot of a still larger tribe inhabiting + a distant township. Its beginnings were shrouded in mystery. There was a + French-Canadian ancestor somewhere, and a Gypsy or Indian grandmother. + They had always intermarried from time immemorial. When one of the + selectmen of their native place had been asked why the Boomshers always + married cousins, and why the habit was not discouraged, he replied that he + really did n't know; he s'posed they felt it would be kind of odd to go + right out and marry a stranger. + </p> + <p> + Lest “Boomsher” seem an unusual surname, it must be explained that the + actual name was French and could not be coped with by Edgewood or Pleasant + River, being something as impossible to spell as to pronounce. As the + family had lived for the last few years somewhere near the Killick + Cranberry Meadows, they were called—and completely described in the + calling—the Crambry fool-family. A talented and much traveled + gentleman who once stayed over night at the Edgewood tavern, proclaimed it + his opinion that Boomsher had been gradually corrupted from Beaumarchais. + When he wrote the word on his visiting card and showed it to Mr. Wiley, + Old Kennebec had replied, that in the judgment of a man who had lived in + large places and seen a turrible lot o' life, such a name could never have + been given either to a Christian or a heathen family, that the way in + which the letters was thrown together into it, and the way in which they + was sounded when read out loud, was entirely ag'in reason. It was true, he + said, that Beaumarchais, bein' such a fool-name, might 'a' be'n invented + a-purpose for a fool-family, but he would n't hold even with callin' 'em + Boomsher; Crambry was well enough for 'em an' a sight easier to speak. + </p> + <p> + Stephen knew a good deal about the Crambrys, for he passed their so-called + habitation in going to one of his wood-lots. It was only a month before + that he had found them all sitting outside their broken-down fence, + surrounded by decrepit chairs, sofas, tables, bedsteads, bits of carpet, + and stoves. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” he called out from his wagon. + </p> + <p> + “There ain't nothin' the matter,” said Alcestis Crambry. “Father's dead, + an' we're dividin' up the furnerchure.” + </p> + <p> + Alcestis was the pride of the Crambrys, and the list of his attainments + used often to be on his proud father's lips. It was he who was the + largest, “for his size,” in the family; he who could tell his brothers + Paul and Arcadus “by their looks”; he who knew a sour apple from a sweet + one the minute he bit it; he who, at the early age of ten, was bright + enough to point to the cupboard and say, “Puddin', dad!” + </p> + <p> + Alcestis had enjoyed, in consequence of his unusual intellectual powers, + some educational privileges, and the Killick school-mistress well + remembered his first day at the village seat of learning. Reports of what + took place in this classic temple from day to day may have been wafted to + the dull ears of the boy, who was not thought ready for school until he + had attained the ripe age of twelve. It may even have been that specific + rumors of the signs, symbols, and hieroglyphics used in educational + institutions had reached him in the obscurity of his cranberry meadows. At + all events, when confronted by the alphabet chart, whose huge black + capitals were intended to capture the wandering eyes of the infant class, + Alcestis exhibited unusual, almost unnatural, excitement. “That is 'A,' my + boy,” said the teacher genially, as she pointed to the first character on + the chart. “Good God, is that 'A'!” cried Alcestis, sitting down heavily + on the nearest bench. And neither teacher nor scholars could discover + whether he was agreeably surprised or disappointed in the letter,—whether + he had expected, if he ever encountered it, to find it writhing in coils + on the floor of a cage, or whether it simply bore no resemblance to the + ideal already established in his mind. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Wiley had once tried to make something of Mercy, the oldest daughter + of the family, but at the end of six weeks she announced that a girl who + could n't tell whether the clock was going “forrards or backwards,” and + who rubbed a pocket-handkerchief as long as she did a sheet, would be no + help in her household. + </p> + <p> + The Crambrys had daily walked the five or six miles from their home to the + Edgewood bridge during the progress of the drive, not only for the social + and intellectual advantages to be gained from the company present, but for + the more solid compensation of a good meal. They all adored Rose, partly + because she gave them food, and partly because she was sparkling and + pretty and wore pink dresses that caught their dull eyes. + </p> + <p> + The afternoon proved a lively one. In the first place, one of the younger + men slipped into the water between two logs, part of a lot chained + together waiting to be let out of the boom. The weight of the mass higher + up and the force of the current wedged him in rather tightly, and when he + had been “pried” out he declared that he felt like an apple after it had + been squeezed in the cider-mill, so he drove home, and Rufus Waterman took + his place. + </p> + <p> + Two hours' hard work followed this incident, and at the end of that time + the “bung” that reached from the shore to Waterman's Ledge (the rock where + Pretty Quick met his fate) was broken up, and the logs that composed it + were started down-river. There remained now only the great side jam at + Gray Rock. This had been allowed to grow, gathering logs as they drifted + past, thus making higher water and a stronger current on the other side of + the rock, and allowing an easier passage for the logs at that point. + </p> + <p> + All was excitement now, for, this particular piece of work accomplished, + the boom above the falls would be “turned out,” and the river would once + more be clear and clean at the Edgewood bridge. + </p> + <p> + Small boys, perching on the rocks with their heels hanging, hands and + mouths full of red Astrakhan apples, cheered their favorites to the echo, + while the drivers shouted to one another and watched the signs and signals + of the boss, who could communicate with them only in that way, so great + was the roar of the water. + </p> + <p> + The jam refused to yield to ordinary measures. It was a difficult problem, + for the rocky river-bed held many a snare and pitfall. There was a certain + ledge under the water, so artfully placed that every log striking under + its projecting edges would wedge itself firmly there, attracting others by + its evil example. + </p> + <p> + “That galoot-boss ought to hev shoved his crew down to that jam this + mornin',” grumbled Old Kennebec to Alcestis Crambry, who was always his + most loyal and attentive listener. “But he would n't take no advice, not + if Pharaoh nor Boaz nor Herod nor Nicodemus come right out o' the Bible + an' give it to him. The logs air contrary today. Sometimes they'll go + along as easy as an old shoe, an' other times they'll do nothin' but bung, + bung, bung! There's a log nestlin' down in the middle o' that jam that + I've be'n watchin' for a week. It's a cur'ous one, to begin with; an' then + it has a mark on it that you can reco'nize it by. Did ye ever hear tell o' + George the Third, King of England, Alcestis, or ain't he known over to the + crambry medders? Well, once upon a time men used to go through the forests + over here an' slash a mark on the trunks o' the biggest trees. That was + the royal sign, as you might say, an' meant that the tree was to be taken + over to England to make masts an' yard-arms for the King's ships. What + made me think of it now is that the King's mark was an arrer, an' it's an + arrer that's on that there log I'm showin' ye. Well, sir, I seen it fust + at Milliken's Mills a Monday. It was in trouble then, an' it's be'n in + trouble ever sence. That's allers the way; there'll be one pesky, crooked, + contrary, consarne'd log that can't go anywheres without gittin' into + difficulties. You can yank it out an' set it afloat, an' before you hardly + git your doggin' iron off of it, it'll be snarled up agin in some new + place. From the time it's chopped down to the day it gets to Saco, it + costs the Comp'ny 'bout ten times its pesky valler as lumber. Now they've + sent over to Benson's for a team of horses, an' I bate ye they can't git + 'em. I wish i was the boss on this river, Alcestis.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I was,” echoed the boy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, your head-fillin' ain't the right kind for a boss, Alcestis, an' + you'd better stick to dry land. You set right down here while I go back a + piece an' git the pipe out o' my coat pocket. I guess nothin' ain't goin' + to happen for a few minutes.” + </p> + <p> + The surmise about the horses, unlike most of Old Kennebec's, proved to be + true. Benson's pair had gone to Portland with a load of hay; accordingly + the tackle was brought, the rope was adjusted to a log, and five of the + drivers, standing on the river-bank, attempted to drag it from its + intrenched position. It refused to yield the fraction of an inch. Rufus + and Stephen joined the five men, and the augmented crew of seven were + putting all their strength on the rope when a cry went up from the + watchers on the bridge. The “dog” had loosened suddenly, and the men were + flung violently to the ground. For a second they were stunned both by the + surprise and by the shock of the blow, but in the same moment the cry of + the crowd swelled louder. Alcestis Crambry had stolen, all unnoticed, to + the rope, and had attempted to use his feeble powers for the common good. + When the blow came he fell backward, and, making no effort to control the + situation, slid over the bank and into the water. + </p> + <p> + The other Crambrys, not realizing the danger, laughed audibly, but there + was no jeering from the bridge. + </p> + <p> + Stephen had seen Alcestis slip, and in the fraction of a moment had taken + off his boots and was coasting down the slippery rocks behind him; in a + twinkling he was in the water, almost as soon as the boy himself. + </p> + <p> + “Doggoned idjut!” exclaimed Old Kennebec, tearfully. “Wuth the hull + fool-family! If I hed n't 'a' be'n so old, I'd 'a' jumped in myself, for + you can't drownd a Wiley, not without you tie nail-kags to their head an' + feet an' drop 'em in the falls.” + </p> + <p> + Alcestis, who had neither brains, courage, nor experience, had, better + still, the luck that follows the witless. He was carried swiftly down the + current; but, only fifty feet away, a long, slender log, wedged between + two low rocks on the shore, jutted out over the water, almost touching its + surface. The boy's clothes were admirably adapted to the situation, being + full of enormous rents. In some way the end of the log caught in the rags + of Alcestis's coat and held him just seconds enough to enable Stephen to + swim to him, to seize him by the nape of the neck, to lift him on the log, + and thence to the shore. It was a particularly bad place for a landing, + and there was nothing to do but to lower ropes and drag the drenched men + to the high ground above. + </p> + <p> + Alcestis came to his senses in ten or fifteen minutes, and seemed as + bright as usual, with a kind of added swagger at being the central figure + in a dramatic situation. + </p> + <p> + “I wonder you hed n't stove your brains out, when you landed so turrible + suddent on that rock at the foot of the bank,” said Mr. Wiley to him. + </p> + <p> + “I should, but I took good care to light on my head,” responded Alcestis; + a cryptic remark which so puzzled Old Kennebec that he mused over it for + some hours. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0008" id="link2H_4_0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. Hearts And Other Hearts + </h2> + <p> + Stephen had brought a change of clothes, as he had a habit of being ducked + once at least during the day; and since there was a halt in the + proceedings and no need of his services for an hour or two, he found Rose + and walked with her to a secluded spot where they could watch the logs and + not be seen by the people. + </p> + <p> + “You frightened everybody almost to death, jumping into the river,” chided + Rose. + </p> + <p> + Stephen laughed. “They thought I was a fool to save a fool, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps not as bad as that, but it did seem reckless.” + </p> + <p> + “I know; and the boy, no doubt, would be better off dead; but so should I + be, if I could have let him die.” + </p> + <p> + Rose regarded this strange point of view for a moment, and then silently + acquiesced in it. She was constantly doing this, and she often felt that + her mental horizon broadened in the act; but she could not be sure that + Stephen grew any dearer to her because of his moral altitudes. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” Stephen argued, “I happened to be nearest to the river, and it + was my job.” + </p> + <p> + “How do you always happen to be nearest to the people in trouble, and why + is it always your 'job'?” + </p> + <p> + “If there are any rewards for good conduct being distributed, I'm right in + line with my hand stretched out,” Stephen replied, with meaning in his + voice. + </p> + <p> + Rose blushed under her flowery hat as he led the way to a bench under a + sycamore tree that overhung the water. + </p> + <p> + She had almost convinced herself that she was as much in love with Stephen + Waterman as it was in her nature to be with anybody. He was handsome in + his big way, kind, generous, temperate, well educated, and well-to-do. No + fault could be found with his family, for his mother had been a teacher, + and his father, though a farmer, a college graduate. Stephen himself had + had one year at Bowdoin, but had been recalled, as the head of the house, + when his father died. That was a severe blow; but his mother's death, + three years after, was a grief never to be quite forgotten. Rose, too, was + the child of a gently bred mother, and all her instincts were refined. + Yes; Stephen in himself satisfied her in all the larger wants of her + nature, but she had an unsatisfied hunger for the world,—the world + of Portland, where her cousins lived; or, better still, the world of + Boston, of which she heard through Mrs. Wealthy Brooks, whose nephew + Claude often came to visit her in Edgewood. Life on a farm a mile and a + half distant from post-office and stores; life in the house with Rufus, + who was rumored to be somewhat wild and unsteady,—this prospect + seemed a trifle dull and uneventful to the trivial part of her, though to + the better part it was enough. The better part of her loved Stephen + Waterman, dimly feeling the richness of his nature, the tenderness of his + affection, the strength of his character. Rose was not destitute either of + imagination or sentiment. She did not relish this constant weighing of + Stephen in the balance: he was too good to be weighed and considered. She + longed to be carried out of herself on a wave of rapturous assent, but + something seemed to hold her back,—some seed of discontent with the + man's environment and circumstances, some germ of longing for a gayer, + brighter, more varied life. No amount of self-searching or argument could + change the situation. She always loved Stephen more or less: more when he + was away from her, because she never approved his collars nor the set of + his shirt bosom; and as he naturally wore these despised articles of + apparel whenever he proposed to her, she was always lukewarm about + marrying him and settling down on the River Farm. Still, today she + discovered in herself, with positive gratitude, a warmer feeling for him + than she had experienced before. He wore a new and becoming gray flannel + shirt, with the soft turn-over collar that belonged to it, and a blue tie, + the color of his kind eyes. She knew that he had shaved his beard at her + request not long ago, and that when she did not like the effect as much as + she had hoped, he had meekly grown a mustache for her sake; it did seem as + if a man could hardly do more to please an exacting ladylove. + </p> + <p> + And she had admired him unreservedly when he pulled off his boots and + jumped into the river to save Alcestis Crambry's life, without giving a + single thought to his own. + </p> + <p> + And was there ever, after all, such a noble, devoted, unselfish fellow, or + a better brother? And would she not despise herself for rejecting him + simply because he was countrified, and because she longed to see the world + of the fashion plates in the magazines? + </p> + <p> + “The logs are so like people!” she exclaimed as they sat down. “I could + name nearly every one of them for somebody in the village. Look at Mite + Shapley, that dancing little one, slipping over the falls and skimming + along the top of the water, keeping out of all the deep places, and never + once touching the rocks.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen fell into her mood. “There's Squire Anderson coming down crosswise + and bumping everything in reach. You know he's always buying lumber and + logs without knowing what he is going to do with them. They just lie and + rot by the roadside. The boys always say that a toadstool is the old + Squire's 'mark' on a log.” + </p> + <p> + “And that stout, clumsy one is Short Dennett.—What are you doing, + Stephen?” + </p> + <p> + “Only building a fence round this clump of harebells,” Stephen replied. + “They've just got well rooted, and if the boys come skidding down the bank + with their spiked shoes, the poor things will never hold up their heads + again. Now they're safe.—Oh, look, Rose! There come the minister and + his wife!” + </p> + <p> + A portly couple of peeled logs, exactly matched in size, came ponderously + over the falls together, rose within a second of each other, joined again, + and swept under the bridge side by side. + </p> + <p> + “And—oh! oh!—Dr. and Mrs. Cram just after them! Isn't that + funny?” laughed Rose, as a very long, slender pair of pines swam down, as + close to each other as if they had been glued in that position. Rose + thought, as she watched them, who but Stephen would have cared what became + of the clump of delicate harebells. How gentle such a man would be to a + woman! How tender his touch would be if she were ill or in trouble! + </p> + <p> + Several single logs followed,—crooked ones, stolid ones, adventurous + ones, feeble swimmers, deep divers. Some of them tried to start a small + jam on their own account; others stranded themselves for good and all, as + Rose and Stephen sat there side by side, with little Dan Cupid for an + invisible third on the bench. + </p> + <p> + “There never was anything so like people,” Rose repeated, leaning forward + excitedly. “And, upon my word, the minister and doctor couples are still + together. I wonder if they'll get as far as the fails at Union? That would + be an odd place to part, would n't it—Union?” + </p> + <p> + Stephen saw his opportunity, and seized it. + </p> + <p> + “There's a reason, Rose, why two logs go downstream better than one, and + get into less trouble. They make a wider path, create more force and a + better current. It's the same way with men and women. Oh, Rose, there is + n't a man in the world that's loved you as long, or knows how to love you + any better than I do. You're just like a white birch sapling, and I'm a + great, clumsy fir tree; but if you 'll only trust yourself to me, Rose, + I'll take you safely down-river.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen's big hand closed on Rose's little one; she returned its pressure + softly and gave him the kiss that with her, as with him, meant a promise + for all the years to come. The truth and passion in the man had broken the + girl's bonds for the moment. Her vision was clearer, and, realizing the + treasures of love and fidelity that were being offered her, she accepted + them, half unconscious that she was not returning them in kind. How is the + belle of two villages to learn that she should “thank Heaven, fasting, for + a good man's love”? + </p> + <p> + And Stephen? He went home in the dusk, not knowing whether his feet were + touching the solid earth or whether he was treading upon rainbows. + </p> + <p> + Rose's pink calico seemed to brush him as he walked in the path that was + wide enough only for one. His solitude was peopled again when he fed the + cattle, for Rose's face smiled at him from the haymow; and when he + strained the milk, Rose held the pans. + </p> + <p> + His nightly tasks over, he went out and took his favorite seat under the + apple tree. All was still, save for the crickets' ceaseless chirp, the + soft thud of an August sweeting dropping in the grass, and the swish-swash + of the water against his boat, tethered in the Willow Cove. + </p> + <p> + He remembered when he first saw Rose, for that must have been when he + began to love her, though he was only fourteen and quite unconscious that + the first seed had been dropped in the rich soil of his boyish heart. + </p> + <p> + He was seated on the kerosene barrel in the Edgewood post-office, which + was also the general country store, where newspapers, letters, molasses, + nails, salt codfish, hairpins, sugar, liver pills, canned goods, beans, + and ginghams dwelt in genial proximity. When she entered, just a little + pink-and-white slip of a thing with a tin pail in her hand and a sunbonnet + falling off her wavy hair, Stephen suddenly stopped swinging his feet. She + gravely announced her wants, reading them from a bit of paper,—1 + quart molasses, 1 package ginger, 1 lb. cheese, 2 pairs shoe laces, 1 card + shirt buttons. + </p> + <p> + While the storekeeper drew off the molasses she exchanged shy looks with + Stephen, who, clean, well-dressed, and carefully mothered as he was, felt + all at once uncouth and awkward, rather as if he were some clumsy lout + pitch-forked into the presence of a fairy queen. He offered her the little + bunch of bachelor's buttons he held in his hand, augury of the future, had + he known it,—and she accepted them with a smile. She dropped her + memorandum; he picked it up, and she smiled again, doing still more fatal + damage than in the first instance. No words were spoken, but Rose, even at + ten, had less need of them than most of her sex, for her dimples, aided by + dancing eyes, length of lashes, and curve of lips, quite took the place of + conversation. The dimples tempted, assented, denied, corroborated, + deplored, protested, sympathized, while the intoxicated beholder cudgeled + his brain for words or deeds which should provoke and evoke more and more + dimples. + </p> + <p> + The storekeeper hung the molasses pail over Rose's right arm and tucked + the packages under her left, and as he opened the mosquito-netting door to + let her pass out she looked back at Stephen, perched on the kerosene + barrel, just a little girl, a little glance, a little dimple, and Stephen + was never quite the same again. The years went on, and the boy became man, + yet no other image had ever troubled the deep, placid waters of his heart. + Now, after many denials, the hopes and longings of his nature had been + answered, and Rose had promised to marry him. He would sacrifice his + passion for logging and driving in the future, and become a staid farmer + and man of affairs, only giving himself a river holiday now and then. How + still and peaceful it was under the trees, and how glad his mother would + be to think that the old farm would wake from its sleep, and a woman's + light foot be heard in the sunny kitchen! + </p> + <p> + Heaven was full of silent stars, and there was a moonglade on the water + that stretched almost from him to Rose. His heart embarked on that golden + pathway and sailed on it to the farther shore. The river was free of logs, + and under the light of the moon it shone like a silver mirror. The soft + wind among the fir branches breathed Rose's name; the river, rippling + against the shore, sang “Rose “; and as Stephen sat there dreaming of the + future, his dreams, too, could have been voiced in one word, and that word + “Rose.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0009" id="link2H_4_0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. The Little House + </h2> + <p> + The autumn days flew past like shuttles in a loom. The river reflected the + yellow foliage of the white birch and the scarlet of the maples. The + wayside was bright with goldenrod, with the red tassels of the sumac, with + the purple frost-flower and feathery clematis. + </p> + <p> + If Rose was not as happy as Stephen, she was quietly content, and felt + that she had more to be grateful for than most girls, for Stephen + surprised her with first one evidence and then another of thoughtful + generosity. In his heart of hearts he felt that Rose was not wholly his, + that she reserved, withheld something; and it was the subjugation of this + rebellious province that he sought. He and Rose had agreed to wait a year + for their marriage, in which time Rose's cousin would finish school and be + ready to live with the old people; meanwhile Stephen had learned that his + maiden aunt would be glad to come and keep house for Rufus. The work at + the River Farm was too hard for a girl, so he had persuaded himself of + late, and the house was so far from the village that Rose was sure to be + lonely. He owned a couple of acres between his place and the Edgewood + bridge, and here, one afternoon only a month after their engagement, he + took Rose to see the foundations of a little house he was building for + her. It was to be only a story-and-a-half cottage of six small rooms, the + two upper chambers to be finished off later on. Stephen had placed it well + back from the road, leaving space in front for what was to be a most + wonderful arrangement of flower-beds, yet keeping a strip at the back, on + the river-brink, for a small vegetable garden. There had been a house + there years before-so many years that the blackened ruins were entirely + overgrown; but a few elms and an old apple-orchard remained to shade the + new dwelling and give welcome to the coming inmates. + </p> + <p> + Stephen had fifteen hundred dollars in bank, he could turn his hand to + almost anything, and his love was so deep that Rose's plumb-line had never + sounded bottom; accordingly he was able, with the help of two steady + workers, to have the roof on before the first of November. The weather was + clear and fine, and by Thanksgiving clapboards, shingles, two coats of + brown paint, and even the blinds had all been added. This exhibition of + reckless energy on Stephen's part did not wholly commend itself to the + neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + “Steve's too turrible spry,” said Rose's grandfather; “he'll trip himself + up some o' these times.” + </p> + <p> + “<i>You</i> never will,” remarked his better half, sagely. + </p> + <p> + “The resks in life come along fast enough, without runnin' to meet 'em,” + continued the old man. “There's good dough in Rose, but it ain't more'n + half riz. Let somebody come along an' drop in a little more yeast, or set + the dish a little mite nearer the stove, an' you'll see what 'll happen.” + </p> + <p> + “Steve's kept house for himself some time, an' I guess he knows more about + bread-makin' than you do.” + </p> + <p> + “There don't nobody know more'n I do about nothin', when my pipe's drawin' + real good an' nobody's thornin' me to go to work,” replied Mr. Wiley; “but + nobody's willin' to take the advice of a man that's seen the world an' + lived in large places, an' the risin' generation is in a turrible hurry. I + don' know how 't is: young folks air allers settin' the clock forrard an' + the old ones puttin' it back.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you ketch anything for dinner when you was out this mornin'?” asked + his wife. + </p> + <p> + “No, I fished an' fished, till I was about ready to drop, an' I did git a + few shiners, but land, they wa'n't as big as the worms I was ketchin' 'em + with, so i pitched 'em back in the water an' quit.” + </p> + <p> + During the progress of these remarks Mr. Wiley opened the door under the + sink, and from beneath a huge iron pot drew a round tray loaded with a + glass pitcher and half a dozen tumblers, which he placed carefully on the + kitchen table. “This is the last day's option I've got on this + lemonade-set,” he said, “an' if I'm goin' to Biddeford tomorrer I've got + to make up my mind here an' now.” + </p> + <p> + With this observation he took off his shoes, climbed in his stocking feet + to the vantage ground of a kitchen chair, and lifted a stone china pitcher + from a corner of the highest cup-board shelf where it had been hidden. + “This lemonade's gittin' kind o' dusty,” he complained. “I cal'lated to + hev a kind of a spree on it when I got through choosin' Rose's weddin' + present, but I guess the pig 'll hev to help me out.” The old man filled + one of the glasses from the pitcher, pulled up the kitchen shades to the + top, put both hands in his pockets, and walked solemnly round the table, + gazing at his offering from every possible point of view. There had been + three lemonade-sets in the window of a Biddeford crockery store when Mr. + Wiley chanced to pass by, and he had brought home the blue and green one + on approval. To th': casual cyc it would have appeared as quite uniquely + hideous until the red and yellow or the purple and orange ones had been + seen; after that, no human being could have made a decision, where each + was so unparalleled in its ugliness, and Old Kennebec's confusion of mind + would have been perfectly understood by the connoisseur. + </p> + <p> + “How do you like it with the lemonade in, mother?” he inquired eagerly. + “The thing that plagues me most is that the red an' yaller one I hed home + last week lights up better'n this, an' I believe I'll settle on that; for + as I was thinkin' last night in bed, lemonade is mostly an evenin' drink + an' Rose won't be usin' the set much by daylight. Root beer looks the + han'somest in this purple set, but Rose loves lemonade better'n beer, so I + guess I'll pack up this one an' change it tomorrer. Mebbe when I get it + out o' sight an' give the lemonade to the pig I'll be easier in my mind.” + </p> + <p> + In the opinion of the community at large Stephen's forehandedness in the + matter of preparations for his marriage was imprudence, and his desire for + neatness and beauty flagrant extravagance. The house itself was a foolish + idea, it was thought, but there were extenuating circumstances, for the + maiden aunt really needed a home, and Rufus was likely to marry before + long and take his wife to the River Farm. It was to be hoped in his case + that he would avoid the snares of beauty and choose a good stout girl who + would bring the dairy back to what it was in Mrs. Waterman's time. + </p> + <p> + All winter long Stephen labored on the inside of the cottage, mostly by + himself. He learned all trades in succession, Love being his only master. + He had many odd days to spare from his farm work, and if he had not found + days he would have taken nights. Scarcely a nail was driven without Rose's + advice; and when the plastering was hard and dry, the wallpapers were the + result of weeks of consultation. + </p> + <p> + Among the quiet joys of life there is probably no other so deep, so sweet, + so full of trembling hope and delight, as the building and making of a + home,—a home where two lives are to be merged in one and flow on + together, a home full of mysterious and delicious possibilities, hidden in + a future which is always rose-colored. + </p> + <p> + Rose's sweet little nature broadened under Stephen's influence; but she + had her moments of discontent and unrest, always followed quickly by + remorse. + </p> + <p> + At the Thanksgiving sociable some one had observed her turquoise + engagement ring,—some one who said that such a hand was worthy of a + diamond, that turquoises were a pretty color, but that there was only one + stone for an engagement ring, and that was a diamond. At the Christmas + dance the same some one had said that her waltzing would make her “all the + rage” in Boston. She wondered if it were true, and wondered whether, if + she had not promised to marry Stephen, some splendid being from a city + would have descended from his heights, bearing diamonds in his hand. Not + that she would have accepted them; she only wondered. These disloyal + thoughts came seldom, and she put them resolutely away, devoting herself + with all the greater assiduity to her muslin curtains and ruffled + pillow-shams. Stephen, too, had his momentary pangs. There were times when + he could calm his doubts only by working on the little house. The mere + sight of the beloved floors and walls and ceilings comforted his heart, + and brought him good cheer. + </p> + <p> + The winter was a cold one, so bitterly cold that even the rapid water at + the Gray Rock was a mass of curdled yellow ice, something that had only + occurred once or twice before within the memory of the oldest inhabitant. + </p> + <p> + It was also a very gay season for Pleasant River and Edgewood. Never had + there been so many card-parties, sleigh-rides, and tavern dances, and + never such wonderful skating. The river was one gleaming, glittering + thoroughfare of ice from Milliken's Mills to the dam at the Edgewood + bridge. At sundown bonfires were built here and there on the mirror-like + surface, and all the young people from the neighboring villages gathered + on the ice; while detachments of merry, rosy-cheeked boys and girls, those + who preferred coasting, met at the top of Brigadier Hill, from which one + could get a longer and more perilous slide than from any other point in + the township. + </p> + <p> + Claude Merrill, in his occasional visits from Boston, was very much in + evidence at the Saturday evening ice parties. He was not an artist at the + sport himself, but he was especially proficient in the art of strapping on + a lady's skates, and murmuring,—as he adjusted the last buckle,—“The + prettiest foot and ankle on the river!” It cannot be denied that this + compliment gave secret pleasure to the fair village maidens who received + it, but it was a pleasure accompanied by electric shocks of excitement. A + girl's foot might perhaps be mentioned, if a fellow were daring enough, + but the line was rigidly drawn at the ankle, which was not a part of the + human frame ever alluded to in the polite society of Edgewood at that + time. + </p> + <p> + Rose, in her red linsey-woolsey dress and her squirrel furs and cap, was + the life of every gathering, and when Stephen took her hand and they + glided upstream, alone together in the crowd, he used to wish that they + might skate on and on up the crystal ice-path of the river, to the moon + itself, whither it seemed to lead them. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0010" id="link2H_4_0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. The Garden of Eden + </h2> + <p> + But the Saco all this time was meditating one of its surprises. The + snapping cold weather and the depth to which the water was frozen were + aiding it in its preparation for the greatest event of the season. On a + certain gray Saturday in March, after a week of mild temperature, it began + to rain as if, after months of snowing, it really enjoyed a new form of + entertainment. Sunday dawned with the very flood-gates of heaven opening, + so it seemed. All day long the river was rising under its miles of + unbroken ice, rising at the threatening rate of four inches an hour. + </p> + <p> + Edgewood went to bed as usual that night, for the bridge at that point was + set too high to be carried away by freshets, but at other villages whose + bridges were in less secure position there was little sleep and much + anxiety. + </p> + <p> + At midnight a cry was heard from the men watching at Milliken's Mills. The + great ice jam had parted from Rolfe's Island and was swinging out into the + open, pushing everything before it. All the able-bodied men in the village + turned out of bed, and with lanterns in hand began to clear the stores and + mills, for it seemed that everything near the river-banks must go before + that avalanche of ice. + </p> + <p> + Stephen and Rufus were there helping to save the property of their friends + and neighbors; Rose and Mite Shapley had stayed the night with a friend, + and all three girls were shivering with fear and excitement as they stood + near the bridge, watching the never-to-be-forgotten sight. It is needless + to say that the Crambry family was on hand, for whatever instincts they + may have lacked, the instinct for being on the spot when anything was + happening, was present in them to the most remarkable extent. The town was + supporting them in modest winter quarters somewhat nearer than Killick to + the center of civilization, and the first alarm brought them promptly to + the scene, Mrs. Crambry remarking at intervals: “If I'd known there'd be + so many out I'd ought to have worn my bunnit; but I ain't got no bunnit, + an' if I had they say I ain't got no head to wear it on!” + </p> + <p> + By the time the jam neared the falls it had grown with its accumulations, + until it was made up of tier after tier of huge ice cakes, piled side by + side and one upon another, with heaps of trees and branches and drifting + lumber holding them in place. Some of the blocks stood erect and towered + like icebergs, and these, glittering in the lights of the twinkling + lanterns, pushed solemnly forward, cracking, crushing, and cutting + everything in their way. When the great mass neared the planing mill on + the east shore the girls covered their eyes, expecting to hear the crash + of the falling building; but, impelled by the force of some mysterious + current, it shook itself ponderously, and then, with one magnificent + movement, slid up the river-bank, tier following tier in grand confusion. + This left a water way for the main drift; the ice broke in every + direction, and down, down, down, from Bonnie Eagle and Moderation swept + the harvest of the winter freezing. It came thundering over the dam, + bringing boats, farming implements, posts, supports, and every sort of + floating lumber with it; and cutting under the flour mill, tipped it + cleverly over on its side and went crashing on its way down-river. At + Edgewood it pushed colossal blocks of ice up the banks into the roadway, + piling them end upon end ten feet in air. Then, tearing and rumbling and + booming through the narrows, it covered the intervale at Pleasant Point + and made a huge ice bridge below Union Falls, a bridge so solid that it + stood there for days, a sight for all the neighboring villages. + </p> + <p> + This exciting event would have forever set apart this winter from all + others in Stephen's memory, even had it not been also the winter when he + was building a house for his future wife. But afterwards, in looking back + on the wild night of the ice freshet, Stephen remembered that Rose's + manner was strained and cold and evasive, and that when he had seen her + talking with Claude Merrill, it had seemed to him that that whippersnapper + had looked at her as no honorable man in Edgewood ever looked at an + engaged girl. He recalled his throb of gratitude that Claude lived at a + safe distance, and his subsequent pang of remorse at doubting, for an + instant, Rose's fidelity. + </p> + <p> + So at length April came, the Saco was still high, turbid, and angry, and + the boys were waiting at Limington Falls for the “Ossipee drive” to begin. + Stephen joined them there, for he was restless, and the river called him, + as it did every spring. Each stubborn log that he encountered gave him new + courage and power of overcoming. The rush of the water, the noise and roar + and dash, the exposure and danger, all made the blood run in his veins + like new wine. When he came back to the farm, all the cobwebs had been + blown from his brain, and his first interview with Rose was so + intoxicating that he went immediately to Portland, and bought, in a kind + of secret penitence for his former fears, a pale pink-flowered wall-paper + for the bedroom in the new home. It had once been voted down by the entire + advisory committee. Mrs. Wiley said that pink was foolish and was always + sure to fade; and the border, being a mass of solid roses, was five cents + a yard, virtually a prohibitive price. Mr. Wiley said he “should hate to + hev a spell of sickness an' lay abed in a room where there was things + growin' all over the place.” He thought “rough-plastered walls, where you + could lay an' count the spots where the roof leaked, was the most + entertainin' in sickness.” Rose had longed for the lovely pattern, but had + sided dutifully with the prudent majority, so that it was with a feeling + of unauthorized and illegitimate joy that Stephen papered the room at + night, a few strips at a time. + </p> + <p> + On the third evening, when he had removed all signs of his work, he + lighted two kerosene lamps and two candles, finding the effect, under this + illumination, almost too brilliant and beautiful for belief. Rose should + never see it now, he determined, until the furniture was in place. They + had already chosen the kitchen and bedroom things, though they would not + be needed for some months; but the rest was to wait until summer, when + there would be the hay-money to spend. + </p> + <p> + Stephen did not go back to the River Farm till one o'clock that night; the + pink bedroom held him in fetters too powerful to break. It looked like the + garden of Eden, he thought. To be sure, it was only fifteen feet square; + Eden might have been a little larger, possibly, but otherwise the pink + bedroom had every advantage. The pattern of roses growing on a trellis was + brighter than any flower-bed in June; and the border—well, if the + border had been five dollars a foot Stephen would not have grudged the + money when he saw the twenty running yards of rosy bloom rioting under the + white ceiling. + </p> + <p> + Before he blew out the last light he raised it high above his head and + took one fond, final look. “It's the only place I ever saw,” he thought, + “that is pretty enough for her. She will look just as if she was growing + here with all the other flowers, and I shall always think of it as the + garden of Eden. I wonder, if I got the license and the ring and took her + by surprise, whether she'd be married in June instead of August? I could + be all ready if I could only persuade her.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment Stephen touched the summit of happiness; and it is a + curious coincidence that as he was dreaming in his garden of Eden, the + serpent, having just arrived at Edgewood, was sleeping peacefully at the + house of Mrs. Brooks. + </p> + <p> + It was the serpent's fourth visit that season, and he explained to + inquiring friends that his former employer had sold the business, and that + the new management, while reorganizing, had determined to enlarge the + premises, the three clerks who had been retained having two weeks' + vacation with half pay. + </p> + <p> + It is extraordinary how frequently “wise serpents” are retained by the + management on half, or even full, salary, while the services of the + “harmless doves” are dispensed with, and they are set free to flutter + where they will. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0011" id="link2H_4_0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. The Serpent + </h2> + <p> + Rose Wiley had the brightest eyes in Edgewood. It was impossible to look + at her without realizing that her physical sight was perfect. What + mysterious species of blindness is it that descends, now and then, upon + human creatures, and renders them incapable of judgment or discrimination? + </p> + <p> + Claude Merrill was a glove salesman in a Boston fancy-goods store. The + calling itself is undoubtedly respectable, and it is quite conceivable + that a man can sell gloves and still be a man; but Claude Merrill was a + manikin. He inhabited a very narrow space behind a very short counter, but + to him it seemed the earth and the fullness thereof. + </p> + <p> + When, irreproachably neat and even exquisite in dress, he gave a + Napoleonic glance at his array of glove-boxes to see if the female + assistant had put them in proper order for the day, when, with that + wonderful eye for detail that had wafted him to his present height of + power, he pounced upon the powder-sprinklers and found them, as he + expected, empty; when, with masterly judgment, he had made up and ticketed + a basket of misfits and odd sizes to attract the eyes of women who were + their human counterparts, he felt himself bursting with the pride and pomp + of circumstance. His cambric handkerchief adjusted in his coat with the + monogram corner well displayed, a last touch to the carefully trained lock + on his forehead, and he was ready for his customers. + </p> + <p> + “Six, did you say, miss? I should have thought five and three quarters—Attend + to that gentleman, Miss Dix, please; I am very busy.” + </p> + <p> + “Six-and-a-half gray sue'de? Here they are, an exquisite shade. Shall I + try them on? The right hand, if you will. Perhaps you'd better remove your + elegant ring; I should n't like to have anything catch in the setting.” + </p> + <p> + “Miss Dix! Six-and-a-half black glace'—upper shelf, third box—for + this lady. She's in a hurry. We shall see you often after this, I hope, + madam.” + </p> + <p> + “No; we don't keep silk or lisle gloves. We have no call for them; our + customers prefer kid.” + </p> + <p> + Oh, but he was in his element, was Claude Merrill; though the glamour that + surrounded him in the minds of the Edgewood girls did not emanate wholly + from his finicky little person: something of it was the glamour that + belonged to Boston,—remote, fashionable, gay, rich, almost + inaccessible Boston, which none could see without the expenditure of five + or six dollars in railway fare, with the added extravagance of a night in + a hotel, if one would explore it thoroughly and come home possessed of all + its illimitable treasures of wisdom and experience. + </p> + <p> + When Claude came to Edgewood for a Sunday, or to spend a vacation with his + aunt, he brought with him something of the magic of a metropolis. + Suddenly, to Rose's eye, Stephen looked larger and clumsier, his shoes + were not the proper sort, his clothes were ordinary, his neckties were + years behind the fashion. Stephen's dancing, compared with Claude's, was + as the deliberate motion of an ox to the hopping of a neat little robin. + When Claude took a girl's hand in the “grand right-and-left,” it was as if + he were about to try on a delicate glove; the manner in which he “held his + lady” in the polka or schottische made her seem a queen. Mite Shapley was + so affected by it that when Rufus attempted to encircle her for the + mazurka she exclaimed, “Don't act as if you were spearing logs, Rufus!” + </p> + <p> + Of the two men, Stephen had more to say, but Claude said more. He was + thought brilliant in conversation; but what wonder, when one considered + his advantages and his dazzling experiences! He had customers who were + worth their thousands; ladies whose fingers never touched dish-water; + ladies who would n't buy a glove of anybody else if they went bare-handed + to the grave. He lived with his sister Maude Arthurlena in a house where + there were twenty-two other boarders who could be seated at meals all at + the same time, so immense was the dining-room. He ate his dinner at a + restaurant daily, and expended twenty-five cents for it without blenching. + He went to the theater once a week, and was often accompanied by “lady + friends” who were “elegant dressers.” + </p> + <p> + In a moment of wrath Stephen had called him a “counter-jumper,” but it was + a libel. So short and rough a means of exit from his place of power was + wholly beneath Claude's dignity. It was with a “Pardon me, Miss Dix,” + that, the noon hour having arrived, he squeezed by that slave and victim, + and raising the hinged board that separated his kingdom from that of the + ribbon department, passed out of the store, hat in hand, serene in the + consciousness that though other clerks might nibble luncheon from a brown + paper bag, he would speedily be indulging in an expensive repast; and Miss + Dix knew it, and it was a part of his almost invincible attraction for + her. + </p> + <p> + It seemed flying in the face of Providence to decline the attentions of + such a gorgeous butterfly of fashion simply because one was engaged to + marry another man at some distant day. + </p> + <p> + All Edgewood femininity united in saying that there never was such a + perfect gentleman as Claude Merrill; and during the time when his + popularity was at its height Rose lost sight of the fact that Stephen + could have furnished the stuff for a dozen Claudes and have had enough + left for an ordinary man besides. + </p> + <p> + April gave place to May, and a veil hung between the lovers,—an + intangible, gossamer-like thing, not to be seen with the naked eye, but, + oh! so plainly to be felt. Rose hid herself thankfully behind it, while + Stephen had not courage to lift a corner. She had twice been seen driving + with Claude Merrill—that Stephen knew; but she had explained that + there were errands to be done, that her grandfather had taken the horse, + and that Mr. Merrill's escort had been both opportune and convenient for + these practical reasons. Claude was everywhere present, the center of + attraction, the observed of all observers. He was irresistible, + contagious, almost epidemic. Rose was now gay, now silent; now + affectionate, now distant, now coquettish; in fine, everything that was + capricious, mysterious, agitating, incomprehensible. + </p> + <p> + One morning Alcestis Crambry went to the post-office for Stephen and + brought him back the newspapers and letters. He had hung about the River + Farm so much that Stephen finally gave him bed and food in exchange for + numberless small errands. Rufus was temporarily confined in a dark room + with some strange pain and trouble in his eyes, and Alcestis proved of use + in many ways. He had always been Rose's slave, and had often brought + messages and notes from the Brier Neighborhood, so that when Stephen saw a + folded note among the papers his heart gave a throb of anticipation. + </p> + <p> + The note was brief, and when he had glanced through it he said: “This is + not mine, Alcestis; it belongs to Miss Rose. Go straight back and give it + to her as you were told; and another time keep your wits about you, or + I'll send you back to Killick.” + </p> + <p> + Alcestis Crambry's ideas on all subjects were extremely vague. Claude + Merrill had given him a letter for Rose, but his notion was that anything + that belonged to her belonged to Stephen, and the Waterman place was much + nearer than the Wileys', particularly at dinner-time! + </p> + <p> + When the boy had slouched away, Stephen sat under the apple tree, now a + mass of roseate bloom, and buried his face in his hands. + </p> + <p> + It was not precisely a love-letter that he had read, nevertheless it + blackened the light of the sun for him. Claude asked Rose to meet him + anywhere on the road to the station and to take a little walk, as he was + leaving that afternoon and could not bear to say good-bye to her in the + presence of her grandmother. “<i>Under the circumstances</i>,” he wrote, + deeply underlining the words, “I cannot remain a moment longer in + Edgewood, where I have been so happy and so miserable!” He did not refer + to the fact that the time limit on his return-ticket expired that day, for + his dramatic instinct told him that such sordid matters have no place in + heroics. + </p> + <p> + Stephen sat motionless under the tree for an hour, deciding on some plan + of action. He had work at the little house, but he did not dare go there + lest he should see the face of dead Love looking from the windows of the + pink bedroom; dead Love, cold, sad, merciless. His cheeks burned as he + thought of the marriage license and the gold ring hidden away upstairs in + the drawer of his shaving stand. What a romantic fool he had been, to + think he could hasten the glad day by a single moment! What a piece of + boyish folly it had been, and how it shamed him in his own eyes! + </p> + <p> + When train time drew near he took his boat and paddled downstream. If for + the Finland lover's reindeer there was but one path in all the world, and + that the one that led to Her, so it was for Stephen's canoe, which, had it + been set free on the river by day or by night, might have floated straight + to Rose. + </p> + <p> + He landed at the usual place, a bit of sandy shore near the Wiley house, + and walked drearily up the bank through the woods. Under the shade of the + pines the white stars of the hepatica glistened and the pale anemones were + coming into bloom. Partridge-berries glowed red under their glossy leaves, + and clumps of violets sweetened the air. Squirrels chattered, woodpeckers + tapped, thrushes sang; but Stephen was blind and deaf to all the sweet + harbingers of spring. + </p> + <p> + Just then he heard voices, realizing with a throb of delight that, at any + rate, Rose had not left home to meet Claude, as he had asked her to do. + Looking through the branches, he saw the two standing together, Mrs. + Brooks's horse, with the offensive trunk in the back of the wagon, being + hitched to a tree near by. There was nothing in the tableau to stir + Stephen to fury, but he read between the lines and suffered as he read—suffered + and determined to sacrifice himself if he must, so that Rose could have + what she wanted, this miserable apology for a man. He had never been the + husband for Rose; she must take her place in a larger community, worthy of + her beauty and charm. + </p> + <p> + Claude was talking and gesticulating ardently. Rose's head was bent and + the tears were rolling down her cheeks. Suddenly Claude raised his hat, + and with a passionate gesture of renunciation walked swiftly to the wagon, + and looking back once, drove off with the utmost speed of which the + Brooks's horse was capable,—Rose waving him a farewell with one hand + and wiping her eyes with the other. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0012" id="link2H_4_0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. The Turquoise Ring + </h2> + <p> + Stephen stood absolutely still in front of the opening in the trees, and + as Rose turned she met him face to face. She had never dreamed his eyes + could be so stern, his mouth so hard, and she gave a sob like a child. + </p> + <p> + “You seem to be in trouble,” Stephen said in a voice so cold she thought + it could not be his. + </p> + <p> + “I am not in trouble, exactly,” Rose stammered, concealing her + discomfiture as well as possible. “I am a little unhappy because I have + made some one else unhappy; and now that you know it, you will be unhappy + too, and angry besides, I suppose, though you've seen everything there was + to see.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no occasion for sorrow,” Stephen said. “I did n't mean to break + in on any interview; I came over to give you back your freedom. If you + ever cared enough for me to marry me, the time has gone by. I am willing + to own that I over-persuaded you, but I am not the man to take a girl + against her inclinations, so we will say good-bye and end the thing here + and now. I can only wish”—here his smothered rage at fate almost + choked him—“that, when you were selecting another husband, you had + chosen a whole man!” + </p> + <p> + Rose quivered with the scorn of his tone. “Size is n't everything!” she + blazed. + </p> + <p> + “Not in bodies, perhaps; but it counts for something in hearts and brains, + and it is convenient to have a sense of honor that's at least as big as a + grain of mustard-seed.” + </p> + <p> + “Claude Merrill is not dishonorable,” Rose exclaimed impetuously; “or at + least he is n't as bad as you think: he has never asked me to marry him.” + </p> + <p> + “Then he probably was not quite ready to speak, or perhaps you were not + quite ready to hear,” retorted Stephen, bitterly; “but don't let us have + words,-there'll be enough to regret without adding those. I have seen, + ever since New Year's, that you were not really happy or contented; only I + would n't allow it to myself; I kept hoping against hope that I was + mistaken. There have been times when I would have married you, willing or + unwilling, but I did n't love you so well then; and now that there's + another man in the case, it's different, and I'm strong enough to do the + right thing. Follow your heart and be happy; in a year or two I shall be + glad I had the grit to tell you so. Good-bye, Rose!” + </p> + <p> + Rose, pale with amazement, summoned all her pride, and drawing the + turquoise engagement ring from her finger, handed it silently to Stephen, + hiding her face as he flung it vehemently down the river-bank. His dull + eyes followed it and half uncomprehendingly saw it settle and glisten in a + nest of brown pine-needles. Then he put out his hand for a last clasp and + strode away without a word. + </p> + <p> + Presently Rose heard first the scrape of his boat on the sand, then the + soft sound of his paddles against the water, then nothing but the + squirrels and the woodpeckers and the thrushes, then not even these,—nothing + but the beating of her own heart. + </p> + <p> + She sat down heavily, feeling as if she were wide awake for the first time + in many weeks. How had things come to this pass with her? + </p> + <p> + Claude Merrill had flattered her vanity and given her some moments of + restlessness and dissatisfaction with her lot; but he had not until today + really touched her heart or tempted her, even momentarily, from her + allegiance to Stephen. His eyes had always looked unspeakable things; his + voice had seemed to breathe feelings that he had never dared put in words; + but today he had really stirred her, for although he had still been vague, + it was easy to see that his love for her had passed all bounds of + discretion. She remembered his impassioned farewells, his despair, his + doubt as to whether he could forget her by plunging into the vortex of + business, or whether he had better end it all in the river, as so many + other broken-hearted fellows had done. She had been touched by his misery, + even against her better judgment; and she had intended to confess it all + to Stephen sometime, telling him that she should never again accept + attentions from a stranger, lest a tragedy like this should happen twice + in a lifetime. + </p> + <p> + She had imagined that Stephen would be his large-minded, great-hearted, + magnanimous self, and beg her to forget this fascinating will-o'-the-wisp + by resting in his deeper, serener love. She had meant to be contrite and + faithful, praying nightly that poor Claude might live down his present + anguish, of which she had been the innocent cause. + </p> + <p> + Instead, what had happened? She had been put altogether in the wrong. + Stephen had almost cast her off, and that, too, without argument. He had + given her her liberty before she had asked for it, taking it for granted, + without question, that she desired to be rid of him. Instead of comforting + her in her remorse, or sympathizing with her for so nobly refusing to + shine in Claude's larger world of Boston, Stephen had assumed that she was + disloyal in every particular. + </p> + <p> + And pray how was she to cope with such a disagreeable and complicated + situation? + </p> + <p> + It would not be long before the gossips rolled under their tongues the + delicious morsel of a broken engagement, and sooner or later she must + brave the displeasure of her grandmother. + </p> + <p> + And the little house—that was worse than anything. Her tears flowed + faster as she thought of Stephen's joy in it, of his faithful labor, of + the savings he had invested in it. She hated and despised herself when she + thought of the house, and for the first time in her life she realized the + limitations of her nature, the poverty of her ideals. + </p> + <p> + What should she do? She had lost Stephen and ruined his life. Now, in + order that she need not blight a second career, must she contrive to + return Claude's love? To be sure, she thought, it seemed indecent to marry + any other man than Stephen, when they had built a house together, and + chosen wallpapers, and a kitchen stove, and dining-room chairs; but was it + not the only way to evade the difficulties? + </p> + <p> + Suppose that Stephen, in a fit of pique, should ask somebody else to share + the new cottage? + </p> + <p> + As this dreadful possibility came into view, Rose's sobs actually + frightened the birds and the squirrels. She paced back and forth under the + trees, wondering how she could have been engaged to a man for eight months + and know so little about him as she seemed to know about Stephen Waterman + today. Who would have believed he could be so autocratic, so severe, SS so + unapproachable? Who could have foreseen that she, Rose Wiley, would ever + be given up to another man,—handed over as coolly as if she had been + a bale of cotton? She wanted to return Claude Merrill's love because it + was the only way out of the tangle; but at the moment she almost hated him + for making so much trouble, for hurting Stephen, for abasing her in her + own eyes, and, above all, for giving her rustic lover the chance of + impersonating an injured emperor. + </p> + <p> + It did not simplify the situation to have Mite Shapley come in during the + evening and run upstairs, uninvited, to sit on the foot of her bed and + chatter. + </p> + <p> + Rose had closed her blinds and lay in the dark, pleading a headache. Mite + was in high feather. She had met Claude Merrill going to the station that + afternoon. He was much too early for the train, which the station agent + reported to be behind time, so he had asked her to take a drive. She did + n't know how it happened, for he looked at his watch every now and then; + but, anyway, they got to laughing and “carrying on,” and when they came + back to the station the train had gone. Was n't that the greatest joke of + the season? What did Rose suppose they did next? + </p> + <p> + Rose did n't know and did n't care; her head ached too badly. + </p> + <p> + Well, they had driven to Wareham, and Claude had hired a livery team + there, and had been taken into Portland with his trunk, and she had + brought Mrs. Brooks's horse back to Edgewood. Was n't that ridiculous? And + had n't she cut out Rose where she least expected? + </p> + <p> + Rose was distinctly apathetic, and Mite Shapley departed after a very + brief call, leaving behind her an entirely new train of thought. + </p> + <p> + If Claude Merrill were so love-blighted that he could only by the greatest + self-control keep from flinging himself into the river, how could he + conceal his sufferings so completely from Mite Shapley,—little + shallow-pated, scheming coquette? + </p> + <p> + “So that pretty Merrill feller has gone, has he, mother?” inquired Old + Kennebec that night, as he took off his wet shoes and warmed his feet at + the kitchen oven. “Well, it ain't a mite too soon. I allers distrust that + pink-an'-white, rosy-posy kind of a man. One of the most turrible things + that ever happened in Gard'ner was brought about by jest sech a feller. + Mothers hed n't hardly ought to name their boy babies Claude without they + expect 'em to play the dickens with the girls. I don' know nothin' 'bout + the fust Claude, there ain't none of 'em in the Bible, air they, but + whoever he was, I bate ye he hed a deceivin' tongue. If it hed n't be'n + for me, that Claude in Gard'ner would 'a' run away with my brother's fust + wife; an' I'll tell ye jest how I contrived to put a spoke in his wheel.” + </p> + <p> + But Mrs. Wiley, being already somewhat familiar with the circumstances, + had taken her candle and retired to her virtuous couch. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0013" id="link2H_4_0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. Rose Sees the World + </h2> + <p> + Was this the world, after all? Rose asked herself; and, if so, what was + amiss with it, and where was the charm, the bewilderment, the + intoxication, the glamour? + </p> + <p> + She had been glad to come to Boston, for the last two weeks in Edgewood + had proved intolerable. She had always been a favorite heretofore, from + the days when the boys fought for the privilege of dragging her sled up + the hills, and filling her tiny mitten with peppermints, down to the year + when she came home from the Wareham Female Seminary, an acknowledged belle + and beauty. Suddenly she had felt her popularity dwindling. There was no + real change in the demeanor of her acquaintances, but there was a certain + subtle difference of atmosphere. Everybody sympathized tacitly with + Stephen, and she did not wonder, for there were times when she secretly + took his part against herself. Only a few candid friends had referred to + the rupture openly in conversation, but these had been blunt in their + disapproval. + </p> + <p> + It seemed part of her ill fortune that just at this time Rufus should be + threatened with partial blindness, and that Stephen's heart, already sore, + should be torn with new anxieties. She could hardly bear to see the + doctor's carriage drive by day after day, and hear night after night that + Rufus was unresigned, melancholy, half mad; while Stephen, as the doctor + said, was brother, mother, and father in one, as gentle as a woman, as + firm as Gibraltar. + </p> + <p> + These foes to her peace of mind all came from within; but without was the + hourly reproach of her grandmother, whose scorching tongue touched every + sensitive spot in the girl's nature and burned it like fire. + </p> + <p> + Finally a way of escape opened. Mrs. Wealthy Brooks, who had always been + rheumatic, grew suddenly worse. She had heard of a “magnetic” physician in + Boston, also of one who used electricity with wonderful effect, and she + announced her intention of taking both treatments impartially and + alternately. The neighbors were quite willing that Wealthy Ann Brooks + should spend the deceased Ezra's money in any way she pleased,—she + had earned it, goodness knows, by living with him for twenty-five years,—but + before the day for her departure arrived her right arm and knee became so + much more painful that it was impossible for her to travel alone. + </p> + <p> + At this juncture Rose was called upon to act as nurse and companion in a + friendly way. She seized the opportunity hungrily as a way out of her + present trouble; but, knowing what Mrs. Brooks's temper was in time of + health, she could see clearly what it was likely to prove when pain and + anguish wrung the brow. + </p> + <p> + Rose had been in Boston now for some weeks, and she was sitting in the Joy + Street boarding-house,—Joy Street, forsooth! It was nearly bedtime, + and she was looking out upon a huddle of roofs and back yards, upon a + landscape filled with clothes-lines, ash-barrels, and ill-fed cats. There + were no sleek country tabbies, with the memory in their eyes of tasted + cream, nothing but city-born, city-bred, thin, despairing cats of the + pavement, cats no more forlorn than Rose herself. + </p> + <p> + She had “seen Boston,” for she had accompanied Mrs. Brooks in the + horse-cars daily to the two different temples of healing where that lady + worshiped and offered sacrifices. She had also gone with Maude Arthurlena + to Claude Merrill's store to buy a pair of gloves, and had overheard Miss + Dix (the fashionable “lady assistant” before mentioned) say to Miss + Brackett of the ribbon department, that she thought Mr. Merrill must have + worn his blinders that time he stayed so long in Edgewood. This bit of + polished irony was unintelligible to Rose at first, but she mastered it + after an hour's reflection. She was n't looking her best that day, she + knew; the cotton dresses that seemed so pretty at home were common and + countrified here, and her best black cashmere looked cheap and shapeless + beside Miss Dix's brilliantine. Miss Dix's figure was her strong point, + and her dressmaker was particularly skillful in the arts of suggestion, + concealment, and revelation. Beauty has its chosen backgrounds. Rose in + white dimity, standing knee deep in her blossoming brier bushes, the river + running at her feet, dark pine trees behind her graceful head, sounded + depths and touched heights of harmony forever beyond the reach of the + modish Miss Dix, but she was out of her element and suffered accordingly. + </p> + <p> + Rose had gone to walk with Claude one evening when she first arrived. He + had shown her the State House and the Park Street Church, and sat with her + on one of the benches in the Common until nearly ten. She knew that Mrs. + Brooks had told her nephew of the broken engagement, but he made no + reference to the matter, save to congratulate her that she was rid of a + man who was so clumsy, so dull and behind the times, as Stephen Waterman, + saying that he had always marveled she could engage herself to anybody who + could insult her by offering her a turquoise ring. + </p> + <p> + Claude was very interesting that evening, Rose thought, but rather gloomy + and unlike his former self. He referred to his grave responsibilities, to + the frail health of Maude Arthurlena, and to the vicissitudes of business. + He vaguely intimated that his daily life in the store was not so pleasant + as it had been formerly; that there were “those” (he would speak no more + plainly) who embarrassed him with undesired attentions, “those” who, + without the smallest shadow of right, vexed him with petty jealousies. + </p> + <p> + Rose dared not ask questions on so delicate a topic, but she remembered in + a flash Miss Dix's heavy eyebrows, snapping eyes, and high color. Claude + seemed very happy that Rose had come to Boston, though he was surprised, + knowing what a trial his aunt must be, now that she was so helpless. It + was unfortunate, also, that Rose could not go on excursions without + leaving his aunt alone, or he should have been glad to offer his escort. + He pressed her hand when he left her at her door, telling her she could + never realize what a comfort her friendship was to him; could never + imagine how thankful he was that she had courageously freed herself from + ties that in time would have made her wretched. His heart was full, he + said, of feelings he dared not utter; but in the near future, when certain + clouds had rolled by, he would unlock its treasures, and then—but no + more tonight: he could not trust himself. + </p> + <p> + Rose felt as if she were assuming one of the characters in a mysterious + romance, such as unfolded itself only in books or in Boston; but thrilling + as it was, it was nevertheless extremely unsatisfactory. + </p> + <p> + Convinced that Claude Merrill was passionately in love with her, one of + her reasons for coming to Boston had been to fall more deeply in love with + him, and thus heal some, at least, of the wounds she had inflicted. It may + have been a foolish idea, but after three weeks it seemed still worse,—a + useless one; for after several interviews she felt herself drifting + farther and farther from Claude; and if he felt any burning ambition to + make her his own, he certainly concealed it with admirable art. Given up, + with the most offensive magnanimity, by Stephen, and not greatly desired + by Claude,—that seemed the present status of proud Rose Wiley of the + Brier Neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + It was June, she remembered, as she leaned out of the open window; at + least it was June in Edgewood, and she supposed for convenience' sake they + called it June in Boston. Not that it mattered much what the poor city + prisoners called it. How beautiful the river would be at home, with the + trees along the banks in full leaf! How she hungered and thirsted for the + river,—to see it sparkle in the sunlight; to watch the moonglade + stretching from one bank to the other; to hear the soft lap of the water + on the shore, and the distant murmur of the falls at the bridge! And the + Brier Neighborhood would be at its loveliest, for the wild roses were in + blossom by now. And the little house! How sweet it must look under the + shade of the elms, with the Saco rippling at the back! Was poor Rufus + still lying in a darkened room, and was Stephen nursing him,—disappointed + Stephen, dear, noble old Stephen? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0014" id="link2H_4_0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. Gold and Pinchbeck + </h2> + <p> + Just then Mrs. Brooks groaned in the next room and called Rose, who went + in to minister to her real needs, or to condole with her fancied ones, + whichever course of action appeared to be the more agreeable at the + moment. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Brooks desired conversation, it seemed, or at least she desired an + audience for a monologue, for she recognized no antiphonal obligations on + the part of her listeners. The doctors were not doing her a speck of good, + and she was just squandering money in a miserable boarding-house, when she + might be enjoying poor health in her own home; and she did n't believe her + hens were receiving proper care, and she had forgotten to pull down the + shades in the spare room, and the sun would fade the carpet out all white + before she got back, and she did n't believe Dr. Smith's magnetism was any + more use than a cat's foot, nor Dr. Robinson's electricity any better than + a bumblebee's buzz, and she had a great mind to go home and try Dr. Lord + from Bonnie Eagle; and there was a letter for Rose on the bureau, which + had come before supper, but the shiftless, lazy, worthless landlady had + forgotten to send it up till just now. + </p> + <p> + The letter was from Mite Shapley, but Rose could read only half of it to + Mrs. Brooks, little beside the news that the Waterman barn, the finest + barn in the whole township, had been struck by lightning and burned to the + ground. Stephen was away at the time, having taken Rufus to Portland, + where an operation on his eyes would shortly be performed at the hospital, + and one of the neighbors was sleeping at the River Farm and taking care of + the cattle; still the house might not have been saved but for one of + Alcestis Crambry's sudden bursts of common sense, which occurred now quite + regularly. He succeeded not only in getting the horses out of the stalls, + but gave the alarm so promptly that the whole neighborhood was soon on the + scene of action. Stephen was the only man, Mite reminded Rose, who ever + had any patience with, or took any pains to teach, Alcestis, but he never + could have expected to be rewarded in this practical way. The barn was + only partly insured; and when she had met Stephen at the station next day, + and condoled with him on his loss, he had said: “Oh, well, Mite, a little + more or less does n't make much difference just now.” + </p> + <p> + “The rest would n't interest you, Mrs. Brooks,” said Rose, precipitately + preparing to leave the room. + </p> + <p> + “Something about Claude, I suppose,” ventured that astute lady. “I think + Mite kind of fancied him. I don't believe he ever gave her any real + encouragement; but he'd make love to a pump, Claude Merrill would, and so + would his father before him. How my sister Abby made out to land him we + never knew, for they said he'd proposed to every woman in the town of + Bingham, not excepting the wooden Indian girl in front of the cigar-store, + and not one of 'em but our Abby ever got a chance to name the day. Abby + was as set as the everlastin' hills, and if she'd made up her mind to have + a man he could n't wriggle away from her nohow in the world. It beats all + how girls do run after these slick-haired, sweet-tongued, Miss Nancy kind + o' fellers, that ain't but little good as beaux an' worth less than + nothing as husbands.” + </p> + <p> + Rose scarcely noticed what Mrs. Brooks said, she was too anxious to read + the rest of Mite Shapley's letter in the quiet of her own room. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Stephen looks thin and pale [so it ran on], but he does not allow anybody + to sympathize with him. I think you ought to know something that I have n't + told before for fear of hurting your feelings; but if I were in your place + I'd like to hear everything, and then you'll know how to act when you come + home. Just after you left, Stephen ploughed up all the land in front of + your new house,—every inch of it, all up and down the road, between the + fence and the front doorstep,—and then he planted corn where you were + going to have your flower-beds. He has closed all the blinds and hung a “To + Let” sign on the large elm at the gate. Stephen never was spiteful in his + life, but this looks a little like spite. Perhaps he only wanted to save + his self-respect and let people know that everything between you was over + forever. Perhaps he thought it would stop talk once and for all. But you + won't mind, you lucky girl, staying nearly three months in Boston! [So + Almira purled on in violet ink, with shaded letters.] How I wish it had + come my way, though I'm not good at rubbing rheumatic patients, even when + they are <i>his</i> aunt. Is <i>he</i> as devoted as ever? And when will <i>it</i> be? How + do you like the theater? Mother thinks you won't attend; but, by what he + used to say, I am sure church members in Boston always go to amusements. + + Your loving friend, + Almira Shapley. + + P.S. They say Rufus's doctor's bills here, and the operation and hospital + expenses in Portland, will mount up to five hundred dollars. Of course + Stephen will be dreadfully hampered by the toss of his barn, and maybe he + wants to let your house that was to be, because he really needs money. In + that case the dooryard won't be very attractive to tenants, with corn + planted right up to the steps and no path left! It's two feet tall now, and + by August (just when you were intending to move in) it will hide the front + windows. Not that you'll care, with a diamond on your engagement finger! +</pre> + <p> + The letter was more than flesh and blood could stand, and Rose flung + herself on her bed to think and regret and repent, and, if possible, to + sob herself to sleep. + </p> + <p> + She knew now that she had never admired and respected Stephen so much as + at the moment when, under the reproach of his eyes, she had given him back + his ring. When she left Edgewood and parted with him forever she had + really loved him better than when she had promised to marry him. + </p> + <p> + Claude Merrill, on his native Boston heath, did not appear the romantic, + inspiring figure he had once been in her eyes. A week ago she distrusted + him; tonight she despised him. + </p> + <p> + What had happened to Rose was the dilation of her vision. She saw things + under a wider sky and in a clearer light. Above all, her heart was wrung + with pity for Stephen—Stephen, with no comforting woman's hand to + help him in his sore trouble; Stephen, bearing his losses alone, his + burdens and anxieties alone, his nursing and daily work alone. Oh, how she + felt herself needed! Needed! that was the magic word that unlocked her + better nature. “Darkness is the time for making roots and establishing + plants, whether of the soil or of the soul,” and all at once Rose had + become a woman: a little one, perhaps, but a whole woman—and a bit + of an angel, too, with healing in her wings. When and how had this + metamorphosis come about? Last summer the fragile brier-rose had hung over + the river and looked at its pretty reflection in the placid surface of the + water. Its few buds and blossoms were so lovely, it sighed for nothing + more. The changes in the plant had been wrought secretly and silently. In + some mysterious way, as common to soul as to plant life, the roots had + gathered in more nourishment from the earth, they had stored up strength + and force, and all at once there was a marvelous fructifying of the plant, + hardiness of stalk, new shoots everywhere, vigorous leafage, and a shower + of blossoms. + </p> + <p> + But everything was awry: Boston was a failure; Claude was a weakling and a + flirt; her turquoise ring was lying on the river-bank; Stephen did not + love her any longer; her flower-beds were ploughed up and planted in corn; + and the cottage that Stephen had built and she had furnished, that beloved + cottage, was to let. + </p> + <p> + She was in Boston; but what did that amount to, after all? What was the + State House to a bleeding heart, or the Old South Church to a pride + wounded like hers? + </p> + <p> + At last she fell asleep, but it was only by stopping her ears to the + noises of the city streets and making herself imagine the sound of the + river rippling under her bedroom windows at home. The backyards of Boston + faded, and in their place came the banks of the Saco, strewn with + pine-needles, fragrant with wild flowers. Then there was the bit of sunny + beach, where Stephen moored his boat. She could hear the sound of his + paddle. Boston lovers came a-courting in the horse-cars, but hers had + floated downstream to her just at dusk in a birch-bark canoe, or + sometimes, in the moonlight, on a couple of logs rafted together. + </p> + <p> + But it was all over now, and she could see only Stephen's stern face as he + flung the despised turquoise ring down the river-bank. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0015" id="link2H_4_0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIII. A Country Chevalier + </h2> + <p> + It was early in August when Mrs. Wealthy Brooks announced her speedy + return from Boston to Edgewood. + </p> + <p> + “It's jest as well Rose is comin' back,” said Mr. Wiley to his wife. “I + never favored her goin' to Boston, where that rosy-posy Claude feller is. + When he was down here he was kep' kind o' tied up in a box-stall, but + there he's caperin' loose round the pastur'.” + </p> + <p> + “I should think Rose would be ashamed to come back, after the way she's + carried on,” remarked Mrs. Wiley, “but if she needed punishment I guess + she's got it bein' comp'ny-keeper to Wealthy Ann Brooks. Bein' a church + member in good an' reg'lar standin', I s'pose Wealthy Ann'll go to heaven, + but I can only say that it would be a sight pleasanter place for a good + many if she did n't.” + </p> + <p> + “Rose has be'n foolish an' flirty an' wrong-headed,” allowed her + grandfather; “but it won't do no good to treat her like a hardened + criminile, same's you did afore she went away. She ain't hardly got her + wisdom teeth cut, in love affairs! She ain't broke the laws of the State + o' Maine, nor any o' the ten commandments; she ain't disgraced the family, + an' there's a chance for her to reform, seein' as how she ain't twenty + year old yet. I was turrible wild an' hot-headed myself afore you ketched + me an' tamed me down.” + </p> + <p> + “You ain't so tame now as I wish you was,” Mrs. Wiley replied testily. + </p> + <p> + “If you could smoke a clay pipe 't would calm your nerves, mother, an' + help you to git some philosophy inter you; you need a little philosophy + turrible bad.” + </p> + <p> + “I need patience consid'able more,” was Mrs. Wiley's withering retort. + </p> + <p> + “That's the way with folks,” said Old Kennebec reflectively, as he went on + peacefully puffing. “If you try to indoose 'em to take an int'rest in a + bran'-new virtue, they won't look at it; but they 'll run down a side + street an' buy half a yard more o' some turrible old shop-worn trait o' + character that they've kep' in stock all their lives, an' that everybody's + sick to death of. There was a man in Gard'ner—” + </p> + <p> + But alas! the experiences of the Gardiner man, though told in the same + delightful fashion that had won Mrs. Wiley's heart many years before, now + fell upon the empty air. In these years of Old Kennebec's “anecdotage,” + his pipe was his best listener and his truest confidant. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wiley's constant intercessions with his wife made Rose's home-coming + somewhat easier, and the sight of her own room and belongings soothed her + troubled spirit, but the days went on, and nothing happened to change the + situation. She had lost a lover, that was all, and there were plenty more + to choose from, or there always had been; but the only one she wanted was + the one who made no sign. She used to think that she could twist Stephen + around her little finger; that she had only to beckon to him and he would + follow her to the ends of the earth. Now fear had entered her heart. She + no longer felt sure, because she no longer felt worthy, of him, and + feeling both uncertainty and unworthiness, her lips were sealed and she + was rendered incapable of making any bid for forgiveness. + </p> + <p> + So the little world of Pleasant River went on, to all outward seeming, as + it had ever gone. On one side of the stream a girl's heart was longing, + and pining, and sickening, with hope deferred, and growing, too, with such + astonishing rapidity that the very angels marveled! And on the other, a + man's whole vision of life and duty was widening and deepening under the + fructifying influence of his sorrow. + </p> + <p> + The corn waved high and green in front of the vacant riverside cottage, + but Stephen sent no word or message to Rose. He had seen her once, but + only from a distance. She seemed paler and thinner, he thought,—the + result, probably, of her metropolitan gayeties. He heard no rumor of any + engagement and he wondered if it were possible that her love for Claude + Merrill had not, after all, been returned in kind. This seemed a wild + impossibility. His mind refused to entertain the supposition that any man + on earth could resist falling in love with Rose, or, having fallen in, + that he could ever contrive to climb out. So he worked on at his farm + harder than ever, and grew soberer and more careworn daily. Rufus had + never seemed so near and dear to him as in these weeks when he had lived + under the shadow of threatened blindness. The burning of the barn and the + strain upon their slender property brought the brothers together shoulder + to shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “If you lose your girl, Steve,” said the boy, “and I lose my eyesight, and + we both lose the barn, why, it'll be us two against the world, for a + spell!” + </p> + <p> + The “To Let” sign on the little house was an arrant piece of hypocrisy. + Nothing but the direst extremity could have caused him to allow an alien + step on that sacred threshold. The ploughing up of the flower-beds and + planting of the corn had served a double purpose. It showed the too + curious public the finality of his break with Rose and her absolute + freedom; it also prevented them from suspecting that he still entered the + place. His visits were not many, but he could not bear to let the dust + settle on the furniture that he and Rose had chosen together; and whenever + he locked the door and went back to the River Farm, he thought of a verse + in the Bible: “Therefore the Lord God sent him forth from the Garden of + Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.” + </p> + <p> + It was now Friday of the last week in August. + </p> + <p> + The river was full of logs, thousands upon thousands of them covering the + surface of the water from the bridge almost up to the Brier Neighborhood. + The Edgewood drive was late, owing to a long drought and low water; but it + was to begin on the following Monday, and Lije Dennett and his under boss + were looking over the situation and planning the campaign. As they leaned + over the bridge-rail they saw Mr. Wiley driving clown the river road. When + he caught sight of them he hitched the old white horse at the corner and + walked toward them, filling his pipe the while in his usual leisurely + manner. “We're not busy this forenoon,” said Lije Dennett. “S'pose we + stand right here and let Old Kennebec have his say out for once. We've + never heard the end of one of his stories, an' he's be'n talkin' for + twenty years.” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” rejoined his companion, with a broad grin at the idea. “I'm + willin', if you are; but who's goin' to tell our fam'lies the reason we've + deserted 'em? I bate yer we shan't budge till the crack o' doom. The road + commissioner'll come along once a year and mend the bridge under our feet, + but Old Kennebec'll talk straight on till the day o' jedgment.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wiley had one of the most enjoyable mornings of his life, and felt + that after half a century of neglect his powers were at last appreciated + by his fellow citizens. + </p> + <p> + He proposed numerous strategic movements to be made upon the logs, whereby + they would move more swiftly than usual. He described several successful + drives on the Kennebec, when the logs had melted down the river almost by + magic, owing to his generalship; and he paid a tribute, in passing, to the + docility of the boss, who on that occasion had never moved a single log + without asking his advice. + </p> + <p> + From this topic he proceeded genially to narrate the life-histories of the + boss, the under boss, and several Indians belonging to the crew,—histories + in which he himself played a gallant and conspicuous part. The + conversation then drifted naturally to the exploits of river-drivers in + general, and Mr. Wiley narrated the sorts of feats in log-riding, + pick-pole-throwing, and the shooting of rapids that he had done in his + youth. These stories were such as had seldom been heard by the ear of man; + and, as they passed into circulation instantaneously, we are probably + enjoying some of them to this day. + </p> + <p> + They were still being told when a Crambry child appeared on the bridge, + bearing a note for the old man. Upon reading it he moved off rapidly in + the direction of the store, ejaculating: “Bless my soul! I clean forgot + that saleratus, and mother's settin' at the kitchen table with the bowl in + her lap, waitin' for it! Got so int'rested in your list'nin' I never + thought o' the time.” + </p> + <p> + The connubial discussion that followed this breach of discipline began on + the arrival of the saleratus, and lasted through supper; and Rose went to + bed almost immediately afterward for very dullness and apathy. Her life + stretched out before her in the most aimless and monotonous fashion. She + saw nothing but heartache in the future; and that she richly deserved it + made it none the easier to bear. + </p> + <p> + Feeling feverish and sleepless, she slipped on her gray Shaker cloak and + stole quietly downstairs for a breath of air. Her grandfather and + grandmother were talking on the piazza, and good humor seemed to have been + restored. “I was over to the tavern tonight,” she heard him say, as she + sat down at a little distance. “I was over to the tavern tonight, an' a + feller from Gorham got to talkin' an' braggin' 'bout what a stock o' goods + they kep' in the store over there. 'An',' says I, 'I bate ye dollars to + doughnuts that there hain't a darn thing ye can ask for at Bill Pike's + store at Pleasant River that he can't go down cellar, or up attic, or out + in the barn chamber an' git for ye.' Well, sir, he took me up, an' I + borrered the money of Joe Dennett, who held the stakes, an' we went right + over to Bill Pike's with all the boys follerin' on behind. An' the Gorham + man never let on what he was going to ask for till the hull crowd of us + got inside the store. Then says he, as p'lite as a basket o' chips, 'Mr. + Pike, I'd like to buy a pulpit if you can oblige me with one.' + </p> + <p> + “Bill scratched his head an' I held my breath. Then says he, ''Pears to me + I'd ought to hev a pulpit or two, if I can jest remember where I keep 'em. + I don't never cal'late to be out o' pulpits, but I'm so plagued for room I + can't keep 'em in here with the groc'ries. Jim (that's his new store boy), + you jest take a lantern an' run out in the far corner o' the shed, at the + end o' the hickory woodpile, an' see how many pulpits we've got in stock!' + Well, Jim run out, an' when he come back he says, 'We've got two, Mr. + Pike. Shall I bring one of 'em in?' + </p> + <p> + “At that the boys all bust out laughin' an' hollerin' an' tauntin' the + Gorham man, an' he paid up with a good will, I tell ye!” + </p> + <p> + “I don't approve of bettin',” said Mrs. Wiley grimly, “but I'll try to + sanctify the money by usin' it for a new wash-boiler.” + </p> + <p> + “The fact is,” explained Old Kennebec, somewhat confused, “that the boys + made me spend every cent of it then an' there.” + </p> + <p> + Rose heard her grandmother's caustic reply, and then paid no further + attention until her keen ear caught the sound of Stephen's name. It was a + part of her unhappiness that since her broken engagement no one would ever + allude to him, and she longed to hear him mentioned, so that perchance she + could get some inkling of his movements. + </p> + <p> + “I met Stephen tonight for the first time in a week,” said Mr. Wiley. “He + kind o' keeps out o' my way lately. He's goin' to drive his span into + Portland tomorrow mornin' and bring Rufus home from the hospital Sunday + afternoon. The doctors think they've made a success of their job, but + Rufus has got to be bandaged up a spell longer. Stephen is goin' to join + the drive Monday mornin' at the bridge here, so I'll get the latest news + o' the boy. Land! I'll be turrible glad if he gets out with his eyesight, + if it's only for Steve's sake. He's a turrible good fellow, Steve is! He + said something tonight that made me set more store by him than ever. I + told you I hed n't heard an unkind word ag'in' Rose sence she come home + from Boston, an' no more I hev till this evenin'. There was two or three + fellers talkin' in the post-office, an' they did n't suspicion I was + settin' on the steps outside the screen door. That Jim Jenkins, that Rose + so everlastin'ly snubbed at the tavern dance, spoke up, an' says he: 'This + time last year Rose Wiley could 'a' hed the choice of any man on the + river, an' now I bet ye she can't get nary one.' + </p> + <p> + “Steve was there, jest goin' out the door, with some bags o' coffee an' + sugar under his arm. + </p> + <p> + “'I guess you're mistaken about that,' he says, speakin' up jest like + lightnin'; 'so long as Stephen Waterman's alive, Rose Wiley can have him, + for one; and that everybody's welcome to know.' + </p> + <p> + “He spoke right out, loud an' plain, jest as if he was readin' the + Declaration of Independence. I expected the boys would everlastin'ly poke + fun at him, but they never said a word. I guess his eyes flashed, for he + come out the screen door, slammin' it after him, and stalked by me as if + he was too worked up to notice anything or anybody. I did n't foller him, + for his long legs git over the ground too fast for me, but thinks I, + 'Mebbe I'll hev some use for my lemonade-set after all.'” + </p> + <p> + “I hope to the land you will,” responded Mrs. Wiley, “for I'm about sick + o' movin' it round when I sweep under my bed. And I shall be glad if Rose + an' Stephen do make it up, for Wealthy Ann Brooks's gossip is too much for + a Christian woman to stand.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0016" id="link2H_4_0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XIV. Housebreaking + </h2> + <p> + Where was the pale Rose, the faded Rose, that crept noiselessly down from + her room, wanting neither to speak nor to be spoken to? Nobody ever knew. + She vanished forever, and in her place a thing of sparkles and dimples + flashed up the stairway and closed the door softly. There was a streak of + moon-shine lying across the bare floor, and a merry ghost, with + dressing-gown held prettily away from bare feet, danced a gay fandango + among the yellow moonbeams. There were breathless flights to the open + window, and kisses thrown in the direction of the River Farm. There were + impressive declamations at the looking-glass, where a radiant creature + pointed to her reflection and whispered, “Worthless little pig, he loves + you, after all!” + </p> + <p> + Then, when quiet joy had taken the place of mad delight, there was a swoop + down upon the floor, an impetuous hiding of brimming eyes in the white + counterpane, and a dozen impassioned promises to herself and to something + higher than herself, to be a better girl. + </p> + <p> + The mood lasted, and deepened, and still Rose did not move. Her heart was + on its knees before Stephen's faithful love, his chivalry, his strength. + Her troubled spirit, like a frail boat tossed about in the rapids, seemed + entering a quiet harbor, where there were protecting shores and a still, + still evening star. Her sails were all torn and drooping, but the harbor + was in sight, and the poor little weather-beaten craft could rest in + peace. + </p> + <p> + A period of grave reflection now ensued, under the bedclothes, where one + could think better. Suddenly an inspiration seized her, an inspiration so + original, so delicious, and above all so humble and praiseworthy, that it + brought her head from her pillow, and she sat bolt upright, clapping her + hands like a child. + </p> + <p> + “The very thing!” she whispered to herself gleefully. “It will take + courage, but I'm sure of my ground after what he said before them all, and + I'll do it. Grandma in Biddeford buying church carpets, Stephen in + Portland—was ever such a chance?” + </p> + <p> + The same glowing Rose came downstairs, two steps at a time, next morning, + bade her grandmother goodbye with suspicious pleasure, and sent her + grandfather away on an errand which, with attendant conversation, would + consume half the day. Then bundles after bundles and baskets after baskets + were packed into the wagon,—behind the seat, beneath the seat, and + finally under the lap-robe. She gave a dramatic flourish to the whip, + drove across the bridge, went through Pleasant River village, and up the + leafy road to the little house, stared the “To Let” sign scornfully in the + eye, alighted, and ran like a deer through the aisles of waving corn, past + the kitchen windows, to the back door. + </p> + <p> + “If he has kept the big key in the old place under the stone, where we + both used to find it, then he has n't forgotten me—or anything,” + thought Rose. + </p> + <p> + The key was there, and Rose lifted it with a sob of gratitude. It was but + five minutes' work to carry all the bundles from the wagon to the back + steps, and another five to lead old Tom across the road into the woods and + tie him to a tree quite out of the sight of any passer-by. + </p> + <p> + When, after running back, she turned the key in the lock, her heart gave a + leap almost of terror, and she started at the sound of her own footfall. + Through the open door the sunlight streamed into the dark room. She flew + to tables and chairs, and gave a rapid sweep of the hand over their + surfaces. + </p> + <p> + “He has been dusting here,—and within a few days, too,” she thought + triumphantly. + </p> + <p> + The kitchen was perfection, as she always knew it would be, with one door + opening to the shaded road and the other looking on the river; windows, + too, framing the apple-orchard and the elms. She had chosen the furniture, + but how differently it looked now that it was actually in place! The tiny + shed had piles of split wood, with great boxes of kindlings and shavings, + all in readiness for the bride, who would do her own cooking. Who but + Stephen would have made the very wood ready for a woman's home-coming; and + why had he done so much in May, when they were not to be married until + August? Then the door of the bedroom was stealthily opened, and here Rose + sat down and cried for joy and shame and hope and fear. The very flowered + paper she had refused as too expensive! How lovely it looked with the + white chamber set! She brought in her simple wedding outfit of blankets, + bed-linen, and counterpanes, and folded them softly in the closet; and + then for the rest of the morning she went from room to room, doing all + that could remain undiscovered, even to laying a fire in the new kitchen + stove. + </p> + <p> + This was the plan. Stephen must pass the house on his way from the River + Farm to the bridge, where he was to join the river-drivers on Monday + morning. She would be out of bed by the earliest peep of dawn, put on + Stephen's favorite pink calico, leave a note for her grandmother, run like + a hare down her side of the river and up Stephen's, steal into the house, + open blinds and windows, light the fire, and set the kettle boiling. Then + with a sharp knife she would cut down two rows of corn, and thus make a + green pathway from the front kitchen steps to the road. Next, the false + and insulting “To Let” sign would be forcibly tweaked from the tree and + thrown into the grass. She would then lay the table in the kitchen, and + make ready the nicest breakfast that two people ever sat down to. And oh, + would two people sit down to it; or would one go off in a rage and the + other die of grief and disappointment? + </p> + <p> + Then, having done all, she would wait and palpitate, and palpitate and + wait, until Stephen came. Surely no property-owner in the universe could + drive along a road, observe his corn leveled to the earth, his sign + removed, his house open, and smoke issuing from his chimney, without going + in to surprise the rogue and villain who could be guilty of such + vandalism. + </p> + <p> + And when he came in? + </p> + <p> + Oh, she had all day Sunday in which to forecast, with mingled dread and + gladness and suspense, that all-important, all-decisive first moment! All + day Sunday to frame and unframe penitent speeches. All day Sunday! Would + it ever be Monday? If so, what would Tuesday bring? Would the sun rise + happy on Mrs. Stephen Waterman of Pleasant River, or miserable Miss Rose + Wiley of the Brier Neighborhood? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XV. The Dream Room + </h2> + <p> + Long ago, when Stephen was a boy of fourteen or fifteen, he had gone with + his father to a distant town to spend the night. After an early breakfast + next morning his father had driven off for a business interview, and left + the boy to walk about during his absence. He wandered aimlessly along a + quiet side street, and threw himself down on the grass outside a pretty + garden to amuse himself as best he could. + </p> + <p> + After a few minutes he heard voices, and, turning, peeped through the bars + of the gate in idle, boyish curiosity. It was a small brown house; the + kitchen door was open, and a table spread with a white cloth was set in + the middle of the room. There was a cradle in a far corner, and a man was + seated at the table as though he might be waiting for his breakfast. + </p> + <p> + There is a kind of sentiment about the kitchen in New England, a kind of + sentiment not provoked by other rooms. Here the farmer drops in to spend a + few minutes when he comes back from the barn or field on an errand. Here, + in the great, clean, sweet, comfortable place, the busy housewife lives, + sometimes rocking the cradle, sometimes opening and shutting the oven + door, sometimes stirring the pot, darning stockings, paring vegetables, or + mixing goodies in a yellow bowl. The children sit on the steps, stringing + beans, shelling peas, or hulling berries; the cat sleeps on the floor near + the wood-box; and the visitor feels exiled if he stays in sitting-room or + parlor, for here, where the mother is always busy, is the heart of the + farmhouse. + </p> + <p> + There was an open back door to this kitchen, a door framed in + morning-glories, and the woman (or was she only girl?) standing at the + stove was pretty,—oh, so pretty in Stephen's eyes! His boyish heart + went out to her on the instant. She poured a cup of coffee and walked with + it to the table; then an unexpected, interesting thing happened—something + the boy ought not to have seen, and never forgot. The man, putting out his + hand to take the cup, looked up at the pretty woman with a smile, and she + stooped and kissed him. + </p> + <p> + Stephen was fifteen. As he looked, on the instant he became a man, with a + man's hopes, desires, ambitions. He looked eagerly, hungrily, and the + scene burned itself on the sensitive plate of his young heart, so that, as + he grew older, he could take the picture out in the dark, from time to + time, and look at it again. When he first met Rose, he did not know + precisely what she was to mean to him; but before long, when he closed his + eyes and the old familiar picture swam into his field of vision, behold, + by some spiritual chemistry, the pretty woman's face had given place to + that of Rose! + </p> + <p> + All such teasing visions had been sternly banished during this sorrowful + summer, and it was a thoughtful, sober Stephen who drove along the road on + this mellow August morning. The dust was deep; the goldenrod waved its + imperial plumes, making the humble waysides gorgeous; the river chattered + and sparkled till it met the logs at the Brier Neighborhood, and then, + lapsing into silence, flowed steadily under them till it found a vent for + its spirits in the dashing and splashing of the falls. + </p> + <p> + Haying was over; logging was to begin that day; then harvesting; then + wood-cutting; then eternal successions of ploughing, sowing, reaping, + haying, logging, harvesting, and so on, to the endless end of his days. + Here and there a red or a yellow branch, painted only yesterday, caught + his eye and made him shiver. He was not ready for winter; his heart still + craved the summer it had missed. + </p> + <p> + Hello! What was that? Corn-stalks prone on the earth? Sign torn down and + lying flat in the grass? Blinds open, fire in the chimney? + </p> + <p> + He leaped from the wagon, and, flinging the reins to Alcestis Crambry, + said, “Stay right here out of sight, and don't you move till I call you!” + And striding up the green pathway, he flung open the kitchen door. + </p> + <p> + A forest of corn waving in the doorway at the back, morning-glories + clambering round and round the window-frames, the table with shining white + cloth, the kettle humming and steaming, something bubbling in a pan on the + stove, the fire throwing out sweet little gleams of welcome through the + open damper. All this was taken in with one incredulous, rapturous twinkle + of an eye; but something else, too: Rose of all roses, Rose of the river, + Rose of the world, standing behind a chair, with her hand pressed against + her heart, her lips parted, her breath coming and going! She was glowing + like a jewel—glowing with the extraordinary brilliancy that emotion + gives to some women. She used to be happy in a gay, sparkling way, like + the shallow part of the stream as it chatters over white pebbles and + bright sands. Now it was a broad, steady, full happiness like the deeps of + the river under the sun. + </p> + <p> + “Don't speak, Stephen, till you hear what I have to say. It takes a good + deal of courage for a girl to do as I am doing; but I want to show how + sorry I am, and it's the only way.” She was trembling, and the words came + faster and faster. “I've been very wrong and foolish, and made you very + unhappy, but I have n't done what you would have hated most. I have n't + been engaged to Claude Merrill; he has n't so much as asked me. I am here + to beg you to forgive me, to eat breakfast with me, to drive me to the + minister's and marry me quickly, quickly, before anything happens to + prevent us, and then to bring me home here to live all the days of my + life. Oh, Stephen dear, honestly, honestly, you have n't lost anything in + all this long, miserable summer. I've suffered, too, and I'm better worth + loving than I was. Will you take me back?” + </p> + <p> + Rose had a tremendous power of provoking and holding love, and Stephen of + loving. His was too generous a nature for revilings and complaints and + reproaches. + </p> + <p> + The shores of his heart were strewn with the wreckage of the troubled + summer, but if the tide of love is high enough, it washes such things out + of remembrance. He just opened his arms and took Rose to his heart, faults + and all, with joy and gratitude; and she was as happy as a child who has + escaped the scolding it richly deserves, and who determines, for very + thankfulness' sake, never to be naughty again. + </p> + <p> + “You don't know what you've done for me, Stephen,” she whispered, with her + face hidden on his shoulder. “I was just a common little prickly rosebush + when you came along like a good gardener and 'grafted in' something + better; the something better was your love, Stephen dear, and it's made + everything different. The silly Rose you were engaged to long ago has + disappeared somewhere; I hope you won't be able to find her under the new + leaves.” + </p> + <p> + “She was all I wanted,” said Stephen. + </p> + <p> + “You thought she was,” the girl answered, “because you did n't see the + prickles, but you'd have felt them some time. The old Rose was a selfish + thing, not good enough for you; the new Rose is going to be your wife, and + Rufus's sister, and your mother's daughter, all in one.” + </p> + <p> + Then such a breakfast was spread as Stephen, in his sorry years of + bachelor existence, had forgotten could exist; but before he broke his + fast he ran out to the wagon and served the astonished Alcestis with his + wedding refreshments then and there, bidding him drive back to the River + Farm and bring him a package that lay in the drawer of his shaving-stand,—a + package placed there when hot youth and love and longing had inspired him + to hurry on the marriage day. + </p> + <p> + “There's an envelope, Alcestis,” he cried, “a long envelope, way, way back + in the corner, and a small box on top of it. Bring them both and my wallet + too, and if you find them all and get them to me safely you shall be + bridesmaid and groomsman and best man and usher and maid of honor at a + wedding, in less than an hour! Off with you! Drive straight and use the + whip on Dolly!” + </p> + <p> + When he re-entered the kitchen, flushed with joy and excitement, Rose put + the various good things on the table and he almost tremblingly took his + seat, fearing that contact with the solid wood might wake him from this + entrancing vision. + </p> + <p> + “I'd like to put you in your chair like a queen and wait on you,” he said + with a soft boyish stammer; “but I am too dazed with happiness to be of + any use.” + </p> + <p> + “It's my turn to wait upon you, and I—Oh! how I love to have you + dazed,” Rose answered. “I'll be at the table presently myself; but we have + been housekeeping only three minutes, and we have nothing but the tin + coffee-pot this morning, so I'll pour the coffee from the stove.” + </p> + <p> + She filled a cup with housewifely care and brought it to Stephen's side. + As she set it down and was turning, she caught his look,—a look so + full of longing that no loving woman, however busy, could have resisted + it; then she stooped and kissed him fondly, fervently. + </p> + <p> + Stephen put his arm about her, and, drawing her down to his knee, rested + his head against her soft shoulder with a sigh of comfort, like that of a + tired child. He had waited for it ten years, and at last the dream room + had come true. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0018" id="link2H_4_0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + THE OLD PEABODY PEW + </h2> + <h3> + A Christmas Romance of a Country Church + </h3> + <p> + DEDICATION + </p> + <p> + To a certain handful of dear New England women of names unknown to the + world, dwelling in a certain quiet village, alike unknown:— + </p> + <p> + We have worked together to make our little corner of the great universe a + pleasanter place in which to live, and so we know, not only one another's + names, but something of one another's joys and sorrows, cares and burdens, + economies, hopes, and anxieties. + </p> + <p> + We all remember the dusty uphill road that leads to the green church + common. We remember the white spire pointing upward against a background + of blue sky and feathery elms. We remember the sound of the bell that + falls on the Sabbath morning stillness, calling us across the + daisy-sprinkled meadows of June, the golden hayfields of July, or the + dazzling whiteness and deep snowdrifts of December days. The little + cabinet-organ that plays the Doxology, the hymn-books from which we sing + “Praise God from whom all blessings flow,” the sweet freshness of the old + meeting-house, within and without,—how we have toiled to secure and + preserve these humble mercies for ourselves and our children! + </p> + <p> + There really is a Dorcas Society, as you and I well know, and one not + unlike that in these pages; and you and I have lived through many + discouraging, laughable, and beautiful experiences while we emulated the + Bible Dorcas, that woman “full of good works and alms deeds.” + </p> + <p> + There never was a Peabody Pew in the Tory Hill Meeting-House, and Nancy's + love story and Justin's never happened within its century-old walls, but I + have imagined only one of the many romances that have had their birth + under the shadow of that steeple, did we but realize it. + </p> + <p> + As you have sat there on open-windowed Sundays, looking across purple + clover-fields to blue distant mountains, watching the palm-leaf fans + swaying to and fro in the warm stillness before sermon time, did not the + place seem full of memories, for has not the life of two villages ebbed + and flowed beneath that ancient roof? You heard the hum of droning bees + and followed the airy wings of butterflies fluttering over the + grave-stones in the old churchyard, and underneath almost every moss-grown + tablet some humble romance lies buried and all but forgotten. + </p> + <p> + If it had not been for you, I should never have written this story, so I + give it back to you tied with a sprig from Ophelia's nosegay; a sprig of + “rosemary, that's for remembrance.” + </p> + <p> + K. D. W. + </p> + <p> + August, 1907 + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0019" id="link2H_4_0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. + </h2> + <p> + Edgewood, like all the other villages along the banks of the Saco, is full + of sunny slopes and leafy hollows. There are little, rounded, green-clad + hillocks that might, like their scriptural sisters, “skip with joy”; and + there are grand, rocky hills tufted with gaunt pine trees—these + leading the eye to the splendid heights of a neighbor State, where + snow-crowned peaks tower in the blue distance, sweeping the horizon in a + long line of majesty. + </p> + <p> + Tory Hill holds its own among the others for peaceful beauty and fair + prospect, and on its broad, level summit sits the white-painted Orthodox + Meeting-House. This faces a grassy common where six roads meet, as if the + early settlers had determined that no one should lack salvation because of + a difficulty in reaching its visible source. + </p> + <p> + The old church has had a dignified and fruitful past, dating from that day + in 1761 when young Paul Coffin received his call to preach at a stipend of + fifty pounds sterling a year; answering “that never having heard of any + Uneasiness among the people about his Doctrine or manner of life, he + declared himself pleased to Settle as Soon as might be Judged Convenient.” + </p> + <p> + But that was a hundred and fifty years ago, and much has happened since + those simple, strenuous old days. The chastening hand of time has been + laid somewhat heavily on the town as well as on the church. Some of her + sons have marched to the wars and died on the field of honor; some, + seeking better fortunes, have gone westward; others, wearying of village + life, the rocky soil, and rigors of farm-work, have become entangled in + the noise and competition, the rush and strife, of cities. When the sexton + rings the bell nowadays, on a Sunday morning, it seems to have lost some + of its old-time militant strength, something of its hope and courage; but + it still rings, and although the Davids and Solomons, the Matthews, Marks, + and Pauls of former congregations have left few descendants to perpetuate + their labors, it will go on ringing as long as there is a Tabitha, a + Dorcas, a Lois, or a Eunice left in the community. + </p> + <p> + This sentiment had been maintained for a quarter of a century, but it was + now especially strong, as the old Tory Hill Meeting-House had been + undergoing for several years more or less extensive repairs. In point of + fact, the still stronger word, “improvements,” might be used with + impunity; though whenever the Dorcas Society, being female, and therefore + possessed of notions regarding comfort and beauty, suggested any serious + changes, the finance committees, which were inevitably male in their + composition, generally disapproved of making any impious alterations in a + tabernacle, chapel, temple, or any other building used for purposes of + worship. The majority in these august bodies asserted that their ancestors + had prayed and sung there for a century and a quarter, and what was good + enough for their ancestors was entirely suitable for them. Besides, the + community was becoming less and less prosperous, and church-going was + growing more and more lamentably uncommon, so that even from a business + standpoint, any sums expended upon decoration by a poor and struggling + parish would be worse than wasted. + </p> + <p> + In the particular year under discussion in this story, the valiant and + progressive Mrs. Jeremiah Burbank was the president of the Dorcas Society, + and she remarked privately and publicly that if her ancestors liked a + smoky church, they had a perfect right to the enjoyment of it, but that + she did n't intend to sit through meeting on winter Sundays, with her + white ostrich feather turning gray and her eyes smarting and watering, for + the rest of her natural life. + </p> + <p> + Whereupon, this being in a business session, she then and there proposed + to her already hypnotized constituents ways of earning enough money to + build a new chimney on the other side of the church. + </p> + <p> + An awe-stricken community witnessed this beneficent act of vandalism, and, + finding that no thunderbolts of retribution descended from the skies, + greatly relished the change. If one or two aged persons complained that + they could not sleep as sweetly during sermon-time in the now clear + atmosphere of the church, and that the parson's eye was keener than + before, why, that was a mere detail, and could not be avoided; what was + the loss of a little sleep compared with the discoloration of Mrs. Jere + Burbank's white ostrich feather and the smarting of Mrs. Jere Burbank's + eyes? + </p> + <p> + A new furnace followed the new chimney, in due course, and as a sense of + comfort grew, there was opportunity to notice the lack of beauty. Twice in + sixty years had some well-to-do summer parishioner painted the interior of + the church at his own expense; but although the roof had been many times + reshingled, it had always persisted in leaking, so that the ceiling and + walls were disfigured by unsightly spots and stains and streaks. The + question of shingling was tacitly felt to be outside the feminine domain, + but as there were five women to one man in the church membership, the + feminine domain was frequently obliged to extend its limits into the + hitherto unknown. Matters of tarring and waterproofing were discussed in + and out of season, and the very school-children imbibed knowledge + concerning lapping, over-lapping, and cross-lapping, and first and second + quality of cedar shingles. Miss Lobelia Brewster, who had a rooted + distrust of anything done by mere man, created strife by remarking that + she could have stopped the leak in the belfry tower with her red flannel + petticoat better than the Milltown man with his new-fangled rubber + sheeting, and that the last shingling could have been more thoroughly done + by a “female infant babe”; whereupon the person criticized retorted that + he wished Miss Lobelia Brewster had a few infant babes to “put on the job + he'd like to see 'em try.” Meantime several male members of the + congregation, who at one time or another had sat on the roof during the + hottest of the dog-days to see that shingling operations were + conscientiously and skillfully performed, were very pessimistic as to any + satisfactory result ever being achieved. + </p> + <p> + “The angle of the roof—what they call the 'pitch'—they say + that that's always been wrong,” announced the secretary of the Dorcas in a + business session. + </p> + <p> + “Is it that kind of pitch that the Bible says you can't touch without + being defiled? If not, I vote that we unshingle the roof and alter the + pitch!” This proposal came from a sister named Maria Sharp, who had + valiantly offered the year before to move the smoky chimney with her own + hands, if the “menfolks” would n't. + </p> + <p> + But though the incendiary suggestion of altering the pitch was received + with applause at the moment, subsequent study of the situation proved that + such a proceeding was entirely beyond the modest means of the society. + Then there arose an ingenious and militant carpenter in a neighboring + village, who asserted that he would shingle the meeting-house roof for + such and such a sum, and agree to drink every drop of water that would + leak in afterward. This was felt by all parties to be a promise attended + by extraordinary risks, but it was accepted nevertheless, Miss Lobelia + Brewster remarking that the rash carpenter, being already married, could + not marry a Dorcas anyway, and even if he died, he was not a resident of + Edgewood, and therefore could be more easily spared, and that it would be + rather exciting, just for a change, to see a man drink himself to death + with rain-water. The expected tragedy never occurred, however, and the + inspired shingler fulfilled his promise to the letter, so that before many + months the Dorcas Society proceeded, with incredible exertion, to earn + more money, and the interior of the church was neatly painted and made as + fresh as a rose. With no smoke, no rain, no snow nor melting ice to defile + it, the good old landmark that had been pointing its finger Heavenward for + over a century would now be clean and fragrant for years to come, and the + weary sisters leaned back in their respective rocking-chairs and drew deep + breaths of satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + These breaths continued to be drawn throughout an unusually arduous haying + season; until, in fact, a visitor from a neighboring city was heard to + remark that the Tory Hill Meeting-House would be one of the best preserved + and pleasantest churches in the whole State of Maine, if only it were + suitably carpeted. + </p> + <p> + This thought had secretly occurred to many a Dorcas in her hours of + pie-making, preserving, or cradle-rocking, but had been promptly + extinguished as flagrantly extravagant and altogether impossible. Now that + it had been openly mentioned, the contagion of the idea spread, and in a + month every sort of honest machinery for the increase of funds had been + set in motion: harvest suppers, pie sociables, old folks' concerts, apron + sales, and, as a last resort, a subscription paper, for the church floor + measured hundreds of square yards, and the carpet committee announced that + a good ingrain could not be purchased, even with the church discount, for + less than ninety-seven cents a yard. + </p> + <p> + The Dorcases took out their pencils, and when they multiplied the surface + of the floor by the price of the carpet per yard, each Dorcas attaining a + result entirely different from all the others, there was a shriek of + dismay, especially from the secretary, who had included in her + mathematical operation certain figures in her possession representing the + cubical contents of the church and the offending pitch of the roof, + thereby obtaining a product that would have dismayed a Croesus. Time sped + and efforts increased, but the Dorcases were at length obliged to clip the + wings of their desire and content themselves with carpeting the pulpit and + pulpit steps, the choir, and the two aisles, leaving the floor in the pews + until some future year. + </p> + <p> + How the women cut and contrived and matched that hardly-bought red ingrain + carpet, in the short December afternoons that ensued after its purchase; + so that, having failed to be ready for Thanksgiving, it could be finished + for the Christmas festivities! + </p> + <p> + They were sewing in the church, and as the last stitches were being taken, + Maria Sharp suddenly ejaculated in her impulsive fashion:— + </p> + <p> + “Would n't it have been just perfect if we could have had the pews + repainted before we laid the new carpet!” + </p> + <p> + “It would, indeed,” the president answered; “but it will take us all + winter to pay for the present improvements, without any thought of fresh + paint. If only we had a few more men-folks to help along!” + </p> + <p> + “Or else none at all!” was Lobelia Brewster's suggestion. “It's havin' so + few that keeps us all stirred up. If there wa'n't any anywheres, we'd have + women deacons and carpenters and painters, and get along first rate; for + somehow the supply o' women always holds out, same as it does with + caterpillars an' flies an' grasshoppers!” + </p> + <p> + Everybody laughed, although Maria Sharp asserted that she for one was not + willing to be called a caterpillar simply because there were too many + women in the universe. + </p> + <p> + “I never noticed before how shabby and scarred and dirty the pews are,” + said the minister's wife, as she looked at them reflectively. + </p> + <p> + “I've been thinking all the afternoon of the story about the poor old + woman and the lily,” and Nancy Wentworth's clear voice broke into the + discussion. “Do you remember some one gave her a stalk of Easter lilies + and she set them in a glass pitcher on the kitchen table? After looking at + them for a few minutes, she got up from her chair and washed the pitcher + until the glass shone. Sitting down again, she glanced at the little + window. It would never do; she had forgotten how dusty and blurred it was, + and she took her cloth and burnished the panes. Then she scoured the + table, then the floor, then blackened the stove before she sat down to her + knitting. And of course the lily had done it all, just by showing, in its + whiteness, how grimy everything else was.” + </p> + <p> + The minister's wife, who had been in Edgewood only a few months, looked + admiringly at Nancy's bright face, wondering that five-and-thirty years of + life, including ten of school-teaching, had done so little to mar its + serenity. + </p> + <p> + “The lily story is as true as the gospel!” she exclaimed, “and I can see + how one thing has led you to another in making the church comfortable. But + my husband says that two coats of paint on the pews would cost a + considerable sum.” + </p> + <p> + “How about cleaning them? I don't believe they've had a good hard washing + since the flood.” The suggestion came from Deacon Miller's wife to the + president. + </p> + <p> + “They can't even be scrubbed for less than fifteen or twenty dollars, for + I thought of that and asked Mrs. Simpson yesterday, and she said twenty + cents a pew was the cheapest she could do it for.” + </p> + <p> + “We've done everything else,” said Nancy Wentworth, with a twitch of her + thread; “why don't we scrub the pews? There's nothing in the Orthodox + creed to forbid, is there?” + </p> + <p> + “Speakin' o' creeds,” and here old Mrs. Sargent paused in her work, “Elder + Ransom from Acreville stopped with us last night, an' he tells me they + recite the Euthanasian Creed every few Sundays in the Episcopal Church. I + did n't want him to know how ignorant I was, but I looked up the word in + the dictionary. It means easy death, and I can't see any sense in that, + though it's a terrible long creed, the Elder says, an' if it's any longer + 'n ourn, I should think anybody <i>might</i> easy die learnin' it!” + </p> + <p> + “I think the word is Athanasian,” ventured the minister's wife. + </p> + <p> + “Elder Ransom's always plumb full o' doctrine,” asserted Miss Brewster, + pursuing the subject. “For my part, I'm glad he preferred Acreville to our + place. He was so busy bein' a minister, he never got round to bein' a + human creeter. When he used to come to sociables and picnics, always + lookin' kind o' like the potato blight, I used to think how complete he'd + be if he had a foldin' pulpit under his coat-tails; they make foldin' beds + nowadays, an' I s'pose they could make foldin' pulpits, if there was a + call.” + </p> + <p> + “Land sakes, I hope there won't be!” exclaimed Mrs. Sargent. “An' the + Elder never said much of anything either, though he was always preachin'! + Now your husband, Mis' Baxter, always has plenty to say after you think + he's all through. There's water in his well when the others is all dry!” + </p> + <p> + “But how about the pews?” interrupted Mrs. Burbank. “I think Nancy's idea + is splendid, and I want to see it carried out. We might make it a picnic, + bring our luncheons, and work all together; let every woman in the + congregation come and scrub her own pew.” + </p> + <p> + “Some are too old, others live at too great a distance,” and the + minister's wife sighed a little; “indeed, most of those who once owned the + pews or sat in them seem to be dead, or gone away to live in busier + places.” + </p> + <p> + “I've no patience with 'em, gallivantin' over the earth,” and here Lobelia + rose and shook the carpet threads from her lap. “I should n't want to live + in a livelier place than Edgewood, seem's though! We wash and hang out + Mondays, iron Tuesdays, cook Wednesdays, clean house and mend Thursdays + and Fridays, bake Saturdays, and go to meetin' Sundays. I don't hardly see + how they can do any more'n that in Chicago!” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind if we have lost members!” said the indomitable Mrs. Burbank. + “The members we still have left must work all the harder. We'll each clean + our own pew, then take a few of our neighbors', and then hire Mrs. Simpson + to do the wainscoting and floor. Can we scrub Friday and lay the carpet + Saturday? My husband and Deacon Miller can help us at the end of the week. + All in favor manifest it by the usual sign. Contrary-minded? It is a + vote.” + </p> + <p> + There never were any contrary-minded when Mrs. Jere Burbank was in the + chair. Public sentiment in Edgewood was swayed by the Dorcas Society, but + Mrs. Burbank swayed the Dorcases themselves as the wind sways the wheat. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0020" id="link2H_4_0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. + </h2> + <p> + The old meeting-house wore an animated aspect when the eventful Friday + came, a cold, brilliant, sparkling December day, with good sleighing, and + with energy in every breath that swept over the dazzling snowfields. The + sexton had built a fire in the furnace on the way to his morning work—a + fire so economically contrived that it would last exactly the four or five + necessary hours, and not a second more. At eleven o'clock all the pillars + of the society had assembled, having finished their own household work and + laid out on their respective kitchen tables comfortable luncheons for the + men of the family, if they were fortunate enough to number any among their + luxuries. Water was heated upon oil-stoves set about here and there, and + there was a brave array of scrubbing-brushes, cloths, soap, and even sand + and soda, for it had been decided and + manifested-by-the-usual-sign-and-no-contrary- minded-and-it-was—a-vote + that the dirt was to come off, whether the paint came with it or not. Each + of the fifteen women present selected a block of seats, preferably one in + which her own was situated, and all fell busily to work. + </p> + <p> + “There is nobody here to clean the right-wing pews,” said Nancy Wentworth, + “so I will take those for my share.” + </p> + <p> + “You're not making a very wise choice, Nancy,” and the minister's wife + smiled as she spoke. “The infant class of the Sunday-School sits there, + you know, and I expect the paint has had extra wear and tear. Families + don't seem to occupy those pews regularly nowadays.” + </p> + <p> + “I can remember when every seat in the whole church was filled, wings an' + all,” mused Mrs. Sargent, wringing out her washcloth in a reminiscent + mood. “The one in front o' you, Nancy, was always called the 'deef pew' in + the old times, and all the folks that was hard o' hearin' used to + congregate there.” + </p> + <p> + “The next pew has n't been occupied since I came here,” said the + minister's wife. + </p> + <p> + “No,” answered Mrs. Sargent, glad of any opportunity to retail + neighborhood news. “'Squire Bean's folks have moved to Portland to be with + the married daughter. Somebody has to stay with her, and her husband + won't. The 'Squire ain't a strong man, and he's most too old to go to + meetin' now. The youngest son just died in New York, so I hear.” + </p> + <p> + “What ailed him?” inquired Maria Sharp. + </p> + <p> + “I guess he was completely wore out takin' care of his health,” returned + Mrs. Sargent. “He had a splendid constitution from a boy, but he was + always afraid it would n't last him. The seat back o' 'Squire Bean's is + the old Peabody pew—ain't that the Peabody pew you're scrubbin', + Nancy?” + </p> + <p> + “I believe so,” Nancy answered, never pausing in her labors. “It's so long + since anybody sat there, it's hard to remember.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the Peabodys', I know it, because the aisle runs right up facin' + it. I can see old Deacon Peabody settin' in this end same as if 't was + yesterday.” + </p> + <p> + “He had died before Jere and I came back here to live,” said Mrs. Burbank. + “The first I remember, Justin Peabody sat in the end seat; the sister that + died, next, and in the corner, against the wall, Mrs. Peabody, with a + crape shawl and a palmleaf fan. They were a handsome family. You used to + sit with them sometimes, Nancy; Esther was great friends with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, she was,” Nancy replied, lifting the tattered cushion from its place + and brushing it; “and I with her. What is the use of scrubbing and + carpeting, when there are only twenty pew-cushions and six hassocks in the + whole church, and most of them ragged? How can I ever mend this?” + </p> + <p> + “I should n't trouble myself to darn other people's cushions!” This + unchristian sentiment came in Mrs. Miller's ringing tones from the rear of + the church. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know why,” argued Maria Sharp. “I'm going to mend my Aunt Achsa's + cushion, and we haven't spoken for years; but hers is the next pew to + mine, and I'm going to have my part of the church look decent, even if she + is too stingy to do her share. Besides, there are n't any Peabodys left to + do their own darning, and Nancy was friends with Esther.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's nothing more than right,” Nancy replied, with a note of relief + in her voice, “considering Esther.” + </p> + <p> + “Though he don't belong to the scrubbin' sex, there is one Peabody alive, + as you know, if you stop to think, Maria; for Justin's alive, and livin' + out West somewheres. At least, he's as much alive as ever he was; he was + as good as dead when he was twenty-one, but his mother was always too + soft-hearted to bury him.” + </p> + <p> + There was considerable laughter over this sally of the outspoken Mrs. + Sargent, whose keen wit was the delight of the neighborhood. + </p> + <p> + “I know he's alive and doing business in Detroit, for I got his address a + week or ten days ago, and wrote, asking him if he'd like to give a couple + of dollars toward repairing the old church.” + </p> + <p> + Everybody looked at Mrs. Burbank with interest. + </p> + <p> + “Has n't he answered?” asked Maria Sharp. Nancy Wentworth held her breath, + turned her face to the wall, and silently wiped the paint of the + wainscoting. The blood that had rushed into her cheeks at Mrs. Sargent's + jeering reference to Justin Peabody still lingered there for any one who + ran to read, but fortunately nobody ran; they were too busy scrubbing. + </p> + <p> + “Not yet. Folks don't hurry about answering when you ask them for a + contribution,” replied the president, with a cynicism common to persons + who collect funds for charitable purposes. “George Wickham sent me + twenty-five cents from Denver. When I wrote him a receipt, I said thank + you same as Aunt Polly did when the neighbors brought her a piece of beef: + 'Ever so much obleeged, but don't forget me when you come to kill a pig.'—Now, + Mrs. Baxter, you shan't clean James Bruce's pew, or what was his before he + turned Second Advent. I'll do that myself, for he used to be in my + Sunday-School class.” + </p> + <p> + “He's the backbone o' that congregation now,” asserted Mrs. Sargent, “and + they say he's goin' to marry Mrs. Sam Peters, who sings in their choir, as + soon as his year is up. They make a perfect fool of him in that church.” + </p> + <p> + “You can't make a fool of a man that nature ain't begun with,” argued Miss + Brewster. “Jim Bruce never was very strong-minded, but I declare it seems + to me that when men lose their wives, they lose their wits! I was sure Jim + would marry Hannah Thompson that keeps house for him. I suspected she was + lookin' out for a life job when she hired out with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Hannah Thompson may keep Jim's house, but she'll never keep Jim, that's + certain!” affirmed the president; “and I can't see that Mrs. Peters will + better herself much.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't blame her, for one!” came in no uncertain tones from the + left-wing pews, and the Widow Buzzell rose from her knees and approached + the group by the pulpit. “If there's anything duller than cookin' three + meals a day for yourself, and settin' down and eatin' 'em by yourself, and + then gettin' up and clearin' 'em away after yourself, I'd like to know it! + I should n't want any good-lookin', pleasant-spoken man to offer himself + to me without he expected to be snapped up, that's all! But if you've made + out to get one husband in York County, you can thank the Lord and not + expect any more favors. I used to think Tom was poor comp'ny and complain + I could n't have any conversation with him, but land, I could talk at him, + and there's considerable comfort in that. And I could pick up after him! + Now every room in my house is clean, and every closet and bureau drawer, + too; I can't start drawin' in another rug, for I've got all the rugs I can + step foot on. I dried so many apples last year I shan't need to cut up any + this season. My jelly and preserves ain't out, and there I am; and there + most of us are, in this village, without a man to take steps for and trot + 'round after! There's just three husbands among the fifteen women + scrubbin' here now, and the rest of us is all old maids and widders. No + wonder the men-folks die, or move away, like Justin Peabody; a place with + such a mess o' women-folks ain't healthy to live in, whatever Lobelia + Brewster may say.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0021" id="link2H_4_0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. + </h2> + <p> + Justin Peabody had once faithfully struggled with the practical + difficulties of life in Edgewood, or so he had thought, in those old days + of which Nancy Wentworth was thinking when she wiped the paint of the + Peabody pew. Work in the mills did not attract him; he had no capital to + invest in a stock of goods for store-keeping; school-teaching offered him + only a pittance; there remained then only the farm, if he were to stay at + home and keep his mother company. + </p> + <p> + “Justin don't seem to take no holt of things,” said the neighbors. + </p> + <p> + “Good Heavens!” It seemed to him that there were no things to take hold + of! That was his first thought; later he grew to think that the trouble + all lay in himself, and both thoughts bred weakness. + </p> + <p> + The farm had somehow supported the family in the old Deacon's time, but + Justin seemed unable to coax a competence from the soil. He could, and + did, rise early and work late; till the earth, sow crops; but he could not + make the rain fall nor the sun shine at the times he needed them, and the + elements, however much they might seem to favor his neighbors, seldom + smiled on his enterprises. The crows liked Justin's corn better than any + other in Edgewood. It had a richness peculiar to itself, a quality that + appealed to the most jaded palate, so that it was really worth while to + fly over a mile of intervening fields and pay it the delicate compliment + of preference. + </p> + <p> + Justin could explain the attitude of caterpillars, worms, grasshoppers, + and potato-bugs toward him only by assuming that he attracted them as the + magnet in the toy boxes attracts the miniature fishes. + </p> + <p> + “Land o' liberty! look at 'em congregate!” ejaculated Jabe Slocum, when he + was called in for consultation. “Now if you'd gone in for breedin' + insecks, you could be as proud as Cuffy an' exhibit 'em at the County + Fair! They'd give yer prizes for size an' numbers an' speed, I guess! Why, + say, they're real crowded for room—the plants ain't give 'em enough + leaves to roost on! Have you tried 'Bug Death'?” + </p> + <p> + “It acts like a tonic on them,” said Justin gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Sho! you don't say so! Now mine can't abide the sight nor smell of it. + What 'bout Paris green?” + </p> + <p> + “They thrive on it; it's as good as an appetizer.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Jabe Slocum, revolving the quid of tobacco in his mouth + reflectively, “the bug that ain't got no objection to p'ison is a bug + that's got ways o' thinkin' an' feelin' an' reasonin' that I ain't able to + cope with! P'r'aps it's all a leadin' o' Providence. Mebbe it shows you'd + ought to quit farmin' crops an' take to raisin' live stock!” + </p> + <p> + Justin did just that, as a matter of fact, a year or two later; but stock + that has within itself the power of being “live” has also rare + qualification for being dead when occasion suits, and it generally did + suit Justin's stock. It proved prone not only to all the general diseases + that cattle-flesh is heir to, but was capable even of suicide. At least, + it is true that two valuable Jersey calves, tied to stakes on the + hillside, had flung themselves violently down the bank and strangled + themselves with their own ropes in a manner which seemed to show that they + found no pleasure in existence, at all events on the Peabody farm. + </p> + <p> + These were some of the little tragedies that had sickened young Justin + Peabody with life in Edgewood, and Nancy Wentworth, even then, realized + some of them and sympathized without speaking, in a girl's poor, helpless + way. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Simpson had washed the floor in the right wing of the church and + Nancy had cleaned all the paint. Now she sat in the old Peabody pew + darning the forlorn, faded cushion with gray carpet-thread; thread as gray + as her own life. + </p> + <p> + The scrubbing-party had moved to its labors in a far corner of the church, + and two of the women were beginning preparations for the basket luncheons. + Nancy's needle was no busier than her memory. Long years ago she had often + sat in the Peabody pew, sometimes at first as a girl of sixteen when asked + by Esther, and then, on coming home from school at eighteen, “finished,” + she had been invited now and again by Mrs. Peabody herself, on those + Sundays when her own invalid mother had not attended service. + </p> + <p> + Those were wonderful Sundays—Sundays of quiet, trembling peace and + maiden joy. + </p> + <p> + Justin sat beside her, and she had been sure then, but had long since + grown to doubt the evidence of her senses, that he, too, vibrated with + pleasure at the nearness. Was there not a summer morning when his hand + touched her white lace mitt as they held the hymn-book together, and the + lines of the + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, + Thy better portion trace, +</pre> + <p> + became blurred on the page and melted into something indistinguishable for + a full minute or two afterward? Were there not looks, and looks, and + looks? Or had she some misleading trick of vision in those days? Justin's + dark, handsome profile rose before her: the level brows and fine lashes; + the well-cut nose and lovable mouth—the Peabody mouth and chin, + somewhat too sweet and pliant for strength, perhaps. Then the eyes turned + to hers in the old way, just for a fleeting glance, as they had so often + done at prayer-meeting, or sociable, or Sunday service. Was it not a man's + heart she had seen in them? And oh, if she could only be sure that her own + woman's heart had not looked out from hers, drawn from its maiden shelter + in spite of all her wish to keep it hidden! + </p> + <p> + Then followed two dreary years of indecision and suspense, when Justin's + eyes met hers less freely; when his looks were always gloomy and anxious; + when affairs at the Peabody farm grew worse and worse; when his mother + followed her husband, the old Deacon, and her daughter Esther to the + burying-ground in the churchyard. Then the end of all things came, the end + of the world for Nancy: Justin's departure for the West in a very frenzy + of discouragement over the narrowness and limitation and injustice of his + lot; over the rockiness and barrenness and unkindness of the New England + soil; over the general bitterness of fate and the “bludgeonings of + chance.” + </p> + <p> + He was a failure, born of a family of failures. If the world owed him a + living, he had yet to find the method by which it could be earned. All + this he thought and uttered, and much more of the same sort. In these days + of humbled pride self was paramount, though it was a self he despised. + There was no time for love. Who was he for a girl to lean upon?—he + who could not stand erect himself! + </p> + <p> + He bade a stiff goodbye to his neighbors, and to Nancy he vouchsafed + little more. A handshake, with no thrill of love in it such as might have + furnished her palm, at least, some memories to dwell upon; a few stilted + words of leave-taking; a halting, meaningless sentence or two about his + “botch” of life—then he walked away from the Wentworth doorstep. But + halfway down the garden path, where the shriveled hollyhocks stood like + sentinels, did a wave of something different sweep over him—a wave + of the boyish, irresponsible past when his heart had wings and could fly + without fear to its mate—a wave of the past that was rushing through + Nancy's mind, wellnigh burying her in its bitter-sweet waters. For he + lifted his head, and suddenly retracing his steps, he came toward her, + and, taking her hand again, said forlornly: “You 'll see me back when my + luck turns, Nancy.” + </p> + <p> + Nancy knew that the words might mean little or much, according to the + manner in which they were uttered, but to her hurt pride and sore, shamed + woman-instinct, they were a promise, simply because there was a choking + sound in Justin's voice and tears in Justin's eyes. “You 'll see me back + when my luck turns, Nancy”; this was the phrase upon which she had lived + for more than ten years. Nancy had once heard the old parson say, ages + ago, that the whole purpose of life was the growth of the soul; that we + eat, sleep, clothe ourselves, work, love, all to give the soul another + day, month, year, in which to develop. She used to wonder if her soul + could be growing in the monotonous round of her dull duties and her duller + pleasures. She did not confess it even to herself; nevertheless she knew + that she worked, ate, slept, to live until Justin's luck turned. Her love + had lain in her heart a bird without a song, year after year. Her mother + had dwelt by her side and never guessed; her father, too; and both were + dead. The neighbors also, lynx-eyed and curious, had never suspected. If + she had suffered, no one in Edgewood was any the wiser, for the maiden + heart is not commonly worn on the sleeve in New England. If she had been + openly pledged to Justin Peabody, she could have waited twice ten years + with a decent show of self-respect, for long engagements were viewed + rather as a matter of course in that neighborhood. The endless months had + gone on since that gray November day when Justin had said goodbye. It had + been just before Thanksgiving, and she went to church with an aching and + ungrateful heart. The parson read from the eighth chapter of St. Matthew, + a most unexpected selection for that holiday. “If you can't find anything + else to be thankful for,” he cried, “go home and be thankful you are not a + leper!” + </p> + <p> + Nancy took the drastic counsel away from the church with her, and it was + many a year before she could manage to add to this slender store anything + to increase her gratitude for mercies given, though all the time she was + outwardly busy, cheerful, and helpful. + </p> + <p> + Justin had once come back to Edgewood, and it was the bitterest drop in + her cup of bitterness that she was spending that winter in Berwick (where, + so the neighbors told him, she was a great favorite in society, and was + receiving much attention from gentlemen), so that she had never heard of + his visit until the spring had come again. Parted friends did not keep up + with one another's affairs by means of epistolary communication, in those + days, in Edgewood; it was not the custom. Spoken words were difficult + enough to Justin Peabody, and written words were quite impossible, + especially if they were to be used to define his half-conscious desires + and his fluctuations of will, or to recount his disappointments and + discouragements and mistakes. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0022" id="link2H_4_0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. + </h2> + <p> + It was Saturday afternoon, the 24th of December, and the weary sisters of + the Dorcas band rose from their bruised knees and removed their little + stores of carpet-tacks from their mouths. This was a feminine custom of + long standing, and as no village dressmaker had ever died of pins in the + digestive organs, so were no symptoms of carpet-tacks ever discovered in + any Dorcas, living or dead. Men wondered at the habit and reviled it, but + stood confounded in the presence of its indubitable harmlessness. + </p> + <p> + The red ingrain carpet was indeed very warm, beautiful, and comforting to + the eye, and the sisters were suitably grateful to Providence, and + devoutly thankful to themselves, that they had been enabled to buy, sew, + and lay so many yards of it. But as they stood looking at their completed + task, it was cruelly true that there was much left to do. + </p> + <p> + The aisles had been painted dark brown on each side of the red strips + leading from the doors to the pulpit, but the rest of the church floor was + “a thing of shreds and patches.” Each member of the carpet committee had + paid (as a matter of pride, however ill she could afford it) three dollars + and sixty-seven cents for sufficient carpet to lay in her own pew; but + these brilliant spots of conscientious effort only made the stretches of + bare, unpainted floor more evident. And that was not all. Traces of former + spasmodic and individual efforts desecrated the present ideals. The + doctor's pew had a pink-and-blue Brussels on it; the lawyer's, striped + stair-carpeting; the Browns from Deerwander sported straw matting and were + not abashed; while the Greens, the Whites, the Blacks, and the Grays + displayed floor coverings as dissimilar as their names. + </p> + <p> + “I never noticed it before!” exclaimed Maria Sharp, “but it ain't + Christian, that floor! it's heathenish and ungodly!” + </p> + <p> + “For mercy's sake, don't swear, Maria,” said Mrs. Miller nervously. “We've + done our best, and let's hope that folks will look up and not down. It is + n't as if they were going to set in the chandelier; they'll have something + else to think about when Nancy gets her hemlock branches and white + carnations in the pulpit vases. This morning my Abner picked off two pinks + from a plant I've been nursing in my dining-room for weeks, trying to make + it bloom for Christmas. I slapped his hands good, and it's been haunting + me ever since to think I had to correct him the day before Christmas.—Come, + Lobelia, we must be hurrying!” + </p> + <p> + “One thing comforts me,” exclaimed the Widow Buzzell, as she took her + hammer and tacks preparatory to leaving; “and that is that the Methodist + meetin'-house ain't got any carpet at all.” + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Buzzell, Mrs. Buzzell!” interrupted the minister's wife, with a + smile that took the sting from her speech. “It will be like punishing + little Abner Miller; if we think those thoughts on Christmas Eve, we shall + surely be haunted afterward.” + </p> + <p> + “And anyway,” interjected Maria Sharp, who always saved the situation, + “you just wait and see if the Methodists don't say they'd rather have no + carpet at all than have one that don't go all over the floor. I know 'em!” + and she put on her hood and blanket-shawl as she gave one last fond look + at the improvements. + </p> + <p> + “I'm going home to get my supper, and come back afterward to lay the + carpet in my pew; my beans and brown bread will be just right by now, and + perhaps it will rest me a little; besides, I must feed 'Zekiel.” + </p> + <p> + As Nancy Wentworth spoke, she sat in a corner of her own modest rear seat, + looking a little pale and tired. Her waving dark hair had loosened and + fallen over her cheeks, and her eyes gleamed from under it wistfully. + Nowadays Nancy's eyes never had the sparkle of gazing into the future, but + always the liquid softness that comes from looking backward. + </p> + <p> + “The church will be real cold by then, Nancy,” objected Mrs. Burbank.—“Good-night, + Mrs. Baxter.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no! I shall be back by half-past six, and I shall not work long. Do + you know what I believe I'll do, Mrs. Burbank, just through the holidays? + Christmas and New Year's both coming on Sunday this year, there'll be a + great many out to church, not counting the strangers that'll come to the + special service tomorrow. Instead of putting down my own pew carpet + that'll never be noticed here in the back, I'll lay it in the old Peabody + pew, for the red aisle-strip leads straight up to it; the ministers always + go up that side, and it does look forlorn.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so! And all the more because my pew, that's exactly opposite in + the left wing, is new carpeted and cushioned,” replied the president. “I + think it's real generous of you, Nancy, because the Riverboro folks, + knowing that you're a member of the carpet committee, will be sure to + notice, and think it's queer you have n't made an effort to carpet your + own pew.” + </p> + <p> + “Never mind!” smiled Nancy wearily. “Riverboro folks never go to bed on + Saturday nights without wondering what Edgewood is thinking about them!” + </p> + <p> + The minister's wife stood at her window watching Nancy as she passed the + parsonage. + </p> + <p> + “How wasted! How wasted!” she sighed. “Going home to eat her lonely supper + and feed 'Zekiel.... I can bear it for the others, but not for Nancy.... + Now she has lighted her lamp,... now she has put fresh pine on the fire, + for new smoke comes from the chimney. Why should I sit down and serve my + dear husband, and Nancy feed 'Zekiel?” + </p> + <p> + There was some truth in Mrs. Baxter's feeling. Mrs. Buzzell, for instance, + had three sons; Maria Sharp was absorbed in her lame father and her + Sunday-School work; and Lobelia Brewster would not have considered + matrimony a blessing, even under the most favorable conditions. But Nancy + was framed and planned for other things, and 'Zekiel was an insufficient + channel for her soft, womanly sympathy and her bright activity of mind and + body. + </p> + <p> + 'Zekiel had lost his tail in a mowing-machine; 'Zekiel had the asthma, and + the immersion of his nose in milk made him sneeze, so he was wont to slip + his paw in and out of the dish and lick it patiently for five minutes + together. Nancy often watched him pityingly, giving him kind and gentle + words to sustain his fainting spirit, but tonight she paid no heed to him, + although he sneezed violently to attract her attention. + </p> + <p> + She had put her supper on the lighted table by the kitchen window and was + pouring out her cup of tea, when a boy rapped at the door. “Here's a paper + and a letter, Miss Wentworth,” he said. “It's the second this week, and + they think over to the store that that Berwick widower must be settin' up + and takin' notice!” + </p> + <p> + She had indeed received a letter the day before, an unsigned + communication, consisting only of the words,— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Second Epistle of John. Verse x2. +</pre> + <p> + She had taken her Bible to look out the reference and found it to be:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Having many tilings to write unto you, I would not write + with paper and ink: but I trust to come unto you, and speak + face to face, that our joy may be full. +</pre> + <p> + The envelope was postmarked New York, and she smiled, thinking that Mrs. + Emerson, a charming lady who had spent the summer in Edgewood, and had + sung with her in the village choir, was coming back, as she had promised, + to have a sleigh ride and see Edgewood in its winter dress. Nancy had + almost forgotten the first letter in the excitements of her busy day, and + now here was another, from Boston this time. She opened the envelope and + found again only a simple sentence, printed, not written. (Lest she should + guess the hand, she wondered?) + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Second Epistle of John. Verse 5.— + And now I beseech thee, lady, not as though I wrote a new commandment + unto thee, but that which we had from the beginning, that we love one + another. +</pre> + <p> + Was it Mrs. Emerson? Could it be—any one else? Was it? No, it might + have been, years ago; but not now; not now!—And yet; he was always + so different from other people; and once, in church, he had handed her the + hymn-book with his finger pointing to a certain verse. + </p> + <p> + She always fancied that her secret fidelity of heart rose from the fact + that Justin Peabody was “different.” From the hour of their first + acquaintance, she was ever comparing him with his companions, and always + to his advantage. So long as a woman finds all men very much alike (as + Lobelia Brewster did, save that she allowed some to be worse!), she is in + no danger. But the moment in which she perceives and discriminates subtle + differences, marveling that there can be two opinions about a man's + superiority, that moment the miracle has happened. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + And now I beseech thee, lady, not as though I wrote a new commandment + unto thee, but that which we had from the beginning, that we love one + another. +</pre> + <p> + No, it could not be from Justin. She drank her tea, played with her beans + abstractedly, and nibbled her slice of steaming brown bread. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Not as though I wrote a new commandment unto thee. +</pre> + <p> + No, not a new one; twelve, fifteen years old, that commandment! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + That we love one another. +</pre> + <p> + Who was speaking? Who had written these words? The first letter sounded + just like Mrs. Emerson, who had said she was a very poor correspondent, + but that she should just “drop down” on Nancy one of these days; but this + second letter never came from Mrs. Emerson.—Well, there would be an + explanation some time; a pleasant one; one to smile over, and tell 'Zekiel + and repeat to the neighbors; but not an unexpected, sacred, beautiful + explanation, such a one as the heart of a woman could imagine, if she were + young enough and happy enough to hope. She washed her cup and plate; + replaced the uneaten beans in the brown pot, and put them away with the + round loaf, folded the cloth (Lobelia Brewster said Nancy always “set out + her meals as if she was entertainin' company from Portland”), closed the + stove dampers, carried the lighted lamp to a safe corner shelf, and lifted + 'Zekiel to his cushion on the high-backed rocker, doing all with the nice + precision of long habit. Then she wrapped herself warmly, and locking the + lonely little house behind her, set out to finish her work in the church. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0023" id="link2H_4_0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. + </h2> + <p> + At this precise moment Justin Peabody was eating his own beans and brown + bread (articles of diet of which his Detroit landlady was lamentably + ignorant) at the new tavern, not far from the meeting-house. + </p> + <p> + It would not be fair to him to say that Mrs. Burbank's letter had brought + him back to Edgewood, but it had certainly accelerated his steps. + </p> + <p> + For the first six years after Justin Peabody left home, he had drifted + about from place to place, saving every possible dollar of his uncertain + earnings in the conscious hope that he could go back to New England and + ask Nancy Wentworth to marry him. The West was prosperous and progressive, + but how he yearned, in idle moments, for the grimmer and more sterile soil + that had given him birth! + </p> + <p> + Then came what seemed to him a brilliant chance for a lucky turn of his + savings, and he invested them in an enterprise which, wonderfully as it + promised, failed within six months and left him penniless. At that moment + he definitely gave up all hope, and for the next few years he put Nancy as + far as possible out of his mind, in the full belief that he was acting an + honorable part in refusing to drag her into his tangled and fruitless way + of life. If she ever did care for him,—and he could not be sure, she + was always so shy,—she must have outgrown the feeling long since, + and be living happily, or at least contentedly, in her own way. He was + glad in spite of himself when he heard that she had never married; but at + least he had n't it on his conscience that <i>he</i> had kept her single! + </p> + <p> + On the 17th of December, Justin, his business day over, was walking toward + the dreary house in which he ate and slept. As he turned the corner, he + heard one woman say to another, as they watched a man stumbling + sorrowfully down the street: “Going home will be the worst of all for him—to + find nobody there!” That was what going home had meant for him these ten + years, but he afterward felt it strange that this thought should have + struck him so forcibly on that particular day. Entering the + boarding-house, he found Mrs. Burbank's letter with its Edgewood postmark + on the hall table, and took it up to his room. He kindled a little fire in + the air-tight stove, watching the flame creep from shavings to kindlings, + from kindlings to small pine, and from small pine to the round, hardwood + sticks; then when the result seemed certain, he closed the stove door and + sat down to read the letter. Whereupon all manner of strange things + happened in his head and heart and flesh and spirit as he sat there alone, + his hands in his pockets, his feet braced against the legs of the stove. + </p> + <p> + It was a cold winter night, and the snow and sleet beat against the + windows. He looked about the ugly room: at the washstand with its square + of oilcloth in front and its detestable bowl and pitcher; at the rigors of + his white iron bedstead, with the valley in the middle of the lumpy + mattress and the darns in the rumpled pillowcases; at the dull photographs + of the landlady's hideous husband and children enshrined on the + mantelshelf; looked at the abomination of desolation surrounding him until + his soul sickened and cried out like a child's for something more like + home. It was as if a spring thaw had melted his ice-bound heart, and on + the crest of a wave it was drifting out into the milder waters of some + unknown sea. He could have laid his head in the kind lap of a woman and + cried: “Comfort me! Give me companionship or I die!” + </p> + <p> + The wind howled in the chimney and rattled the loose window-sashes; the + snow, freezing as it fell, dashed against the glass with hard, cutting + little blows; at least, that is the way in which the wind and snow + flattered themselves they were making existence disagreeable to Justin + Peabody when he read the letter; but never were elements more mistaken. + </p> + <p> + It was a June Sunday in the boarding-house bedroom; and for that matter it + was not the boarding-house bedroom at all: it was the old Orthodox church + on Tory Hill in Edgewood. The windows were wide open, and the smell of the + purple clover and the humming of the bees were drifting into the sweet, + wide spaces within. Justin was sitting in the end of the Peabody pew, and + Nancy Wentworth was beside him; Nancy, cool and restful in her white + dress; dark-haired Nancy under the shadow of her shirred muslin hat. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Rise, my soul, and stretch thy wings, + Thy better portion trace. +</pre> + <p> + The melodeon gave the tune, and Nancy and he stood to sing, taking the + book between them. His hand touched hers, and as the music of the hymn + rose and fell, the future unrolled itself before his eyes: a future in + which Nancy was his wedded wife; and the happy years stretched on and on + in front of them until there was a row of little heads in the old Peabody + pew, and mother and father could look proudly along the line at the young + things they were bringing into the house of the Lord. + </p> + <p> + The recalling of that vision worked like magic in Justin's blood. His soul + rose and stretched its wings and “traced its better portion” vividly, as + he sprang to his feet and walked up and down the bedroom floor. He would + get a few days' leave and go back to Edgewood for Christmas, to join, with + all the old neighbors, in the service at the meetinghouse; and in + pursuance of this resolve, he shook his fist in the face of the landlady's + husband on the mantelpiece and dared him to prevent. + </p> + <p> + He had a salary of fifty dollars a month, with some very slight prospect + of an increase after January. He did not see how two persons could eat, + and drink, and lodge, and dress on it in Detroit, but he proposed to give + Nancy Wentworth the refusal of that magnificent future, that brilliant and + tempting offer. He had exactly one hundred dollars in the bank, and sixty + or seventy of them would be spent in the journeys, counting two happy, + blessed fares back from Edgewood to Detroit; and if he paid only his own + fare back, he would throw the price of the other into the pond behind the + Wentworth house. He would drop another ten dollars into the plate on + Christmas Day toward the repairs on the church; if he starved, he would do + that. He was a failure. Everything his hand touched turned to naught. He + looked himself full in the face, recognizing his weakness, and in this + supremest moment of recognition he was a stronger man than he had been an + hour before. His drooping shoulders had straightened; the restless look + had gone from his eyes; his somber face had something of repose in it, the + repose of a settled purpose. He was a failure, but perhaps if he took the + risks (and if Nancy would take them—but that was the trouble, women + were so unselfish, they were always willing to take risks, and one ought + not to let them!), perhaps he might do better in trying to make a living + for two than he had in working for himself alone. He would go home, tell + Nancy that he was an unlucky good-for-naught, and ask her if she would try + her hand at making him over. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0024" id="link2H_4_0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. + </h2> + <p> + These were the reasons that had brought Justin Peabody to Edgewood on the + Saturday afternoon before Christmas, and had taken him to the new tavern + on Tory Hill, near the meeting-house. + </p> + <p> + Nobody recognized him at the station or noticed him at the tavern, and + after his supper he put on his overcoat and started out for a walk, + aimlessly hoping that he might meet a friend, or failing that, intending + to call on some of his old neighbors, with the view of hearing the village + news and securing some information which might help him to decide when he + had better lay himself and his misfortunes at Nancy Wentworth's feet. They + were pretty feet! He remembered that fact well enough under the magical + influence of familiar sights and sounds and odors. He was restless, + miserable, anxious, homesick—not for Detroit, but for some + heretofore unimagined good; yet, like Bunyan's shepherd boy in the Valley + of humiliation, he carried “the herb called Heartsease in his bosom,” for + he was at last loving consciously. + </p> + <p> + How white the old church looked, and how green the blinds! It must have + been painted very lately: that meant that the parish was fairly + prosperous. There were new shutters in the belfry tower, too; he + remembered the former open space and the rusty bell, and he liked the + change. Did the chimney use to be in that corner? No; but his father had + always said it would have drawn better if it had been put there in the + beginning. New shingles within a year: that was evident to a practiced + eye. He wondered if anything had been done to the inside of the building, + but he must wait until the morrow to see, for, of course, the doors would + be locked. No; the one at the right side was ajar. He opened it softly and + stepped into the tiny square entry that he recalled so well—the one + through which the Sunday-School children ran out to the steps from their + catechism, apparently enjoying the sunshine after a spell of orthodoxy; + the little entry where the village girls congregated while waiting for the + last bell to ring—they made a soft blur of pink and blue and buff, a + little flutter of curls and braids and fans and sun-shades, in his mind's + eye, as he closed the outer door behind him and gently opened the inner + one. The church was flooded with moon-light and snowlight, and there was + one lamp burning at the back of the pulpit; a candle, too, on the pulpit + steps. There was the tip-tap-tip of a tack-hammer going on in a distant + corner. Was somebody hanging Christmas garlands? The new red carpet + attracted his notice, and as he grew accustomed to the dim light, it + carried his eye along the aisle he had trod so many years of Sundays, to + the old familiar pew. The sound of the hammer ceased, and a woman rose + from her knees. A stranger was doing for the family honor what he ought + himself to have done. The woman turned to shake her skirt, and it was + Nancy Wentworth. He might have known it. Women were always faithful; they + always remembered old land-marks, old days, old friends, old duties. His + father and mother and Esther were all gone; who but dear Nancy would have + made the old Peabody pew right and tidy for the Christmas festival? Bless + her kind, womanly heart! + </p> + <p> + She looked just the same to him as when he last saw her. Mercifully he + seemed to have held in remembrance all these years not so much her + youthful bloom as her general qualities of mind and heart: her cheeriness, + her spirit, her unflagging zeal, her bright womanliness. Her gray dress + was turned up in front over a crimson moreen petticoat. She had on a cozy + jacket, a fur turban of some sort with a red breast in it, and her cheeks + were flushed from exertion. “Sweet records, and promises as sweet,” had + always met in Nancy's face, and either he had forgotten how pretty she + was, or else she had absolutely grown prettier during his absence. + </p> + <p> + Nancy would have chosen the supreme moment of meeting very differently, + but she might well have chosen worse. She unpinned her skirt and brushed + the threads off, smoothed the pew cushions carefully, and took a last + stitch in the ragged hassock. She then lifted the Bible and the hymn-book + from the rack, and putting down a bit of flannel on the pulpit steps, took + a flatiron from an oil-stove, and opening the ancient books, pressed out + the well-thumbed leaves one by one with infinite care. After replacing the + volumes in their accustomed place, she first extinguished the flame of her + stove, which she tucked out of sight, and then blew out the lamp and the + candle. The church was still light enough for objects to be seen in a + shadowy way, like the objects in a dream, and Justin did not realize that + he was a man in the flesh, looking at a woman; spying, it might be, upon + her privacy. He was one part of a dream and she another, and he stood as + if waiting, and fearing, to be awakened. + </p> + <p> + Nancy, having done all, came out of the pew, and standing in the aisle, + looked back at the scene of her labors with pride and content. And as she + looked, some desire to stay a little longer in the dear old place must + have come over her, or some dread of going back to her lonely cottage, for + she sat down in Justin's corner of the pew with folded hands, her eyes + fixed dreamily on the pulpit and her ears hearing:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Not as though I wrote a new commandment unto thee, but that + which we had from the beginning. +</pre> + <p> + Justin's grasp on the latch tightened as he prepared to close the door and + leave the place, but his instinct did not warn him quickly enough, after + all, for, obeying some uncontrollable impulse, Nancy suddenly fell on her + knees in the pew and buried her face in the cushions. The dream broke, and + in an instant Justin was a man—worse than that, he was an + eavesdropper, ashamed of his unsuspected presence. He felt himself + standing, with covered head and feet shod, in the holy temple of a woman's + heart. + </p> + <p> + But his involuntary irreverence brought abundant grace with it. The + glimpse and the revelation wrought their miracles silently and + irresistibly, not by the slow processes of growth which Nature demands for + her enterprises, but with the sudden swiftness of the spirit. In an + instant changes had taken place in Justin's soul which his so-called + “experiencing religion” twenty-five years back had been powerless to + effect. He had indeed been baptized then, but the recording angel could + have borne witness that this second baptism fructified the first, and + became the real herald of the new birth and the new creature. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0025" id="link2H_4_0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. + </h2> + <p> + Justin Peabody silently closed the inner door, and stood in the entry with + his head bent and his heart in a whirl until he should hear Nancy rise to + her feet. He must take this Heaven-sent chance of telling her all, but how + do it without alarming her? + </p> + <p> + A moment, and her step sounded in the stillness of the empty church. + </p> + <p> + Obeying the first impulse, he passed through the outer door, and standing + on the step, knocked once, twice, three times; then, opening it a little + and speaking through the chink, he called, “Is Miss Nancy Wentworth here?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm here!” in a moment came Nancy's answer; and then, with a little + wondering tremor in her voice, as if a hint of the truth had already + dawned: “What's wanted?” + </p> + <p> + “You're wanted, Nancy, wanted badly, by Justin Peabody, come back from the + West.” + </p> + <p> + The door opened wide, and Justin faced Nancy standing halfway down the + aisle, her eyes brilliant, her lips parted. A week ago Justin's apparition + confronting her in the empty meeting-house after nightfall, even had she + been prepared for it as now, by his voice, would have terrified her beyond + measure. Now it seemed almost natural and inevitable. She had spent these + last days in the church where both of them had been young and happy + together; the two letters had brought him vividly to mind, and her labor + in the old Peabody pew had been one long excursion into the past in which + he was the most prominent and the best-loved figure. + </p> + <p> + “I said I'd come back to you when my luck turned, Nancy.” + </p> + <p> + These were so precisely the words she expected him to say, should she ever + see him again face to face, that for an additional moment they but + heightened her sense of unreality. + </p> + <p> + “Well, the luck hasn't turned, after all, but I could n't wait any longer. + Have you given a thought to me all these years, Nancy?” + </p> + <p> + “More than one, Justin.” For the very look upon his face, the tenderness + of his voice, the attitude of his body, outran his words and told her what + he had come home to say, told her that her years of waiting were over at + last. + </p> + <p> + “You ought to despise me for coming back again with only myself and my + empty hands to offer you.” + </p> + <p> + How easy it was to speak his heart out in this dim and quiet place! How + tongue-tied he would have been, sitting on the black hair-cloth sofa in + the Wentworth parlor and gazing at the open soapstone stove! + </p> + <p> + “Oh, men are such fools!” cried Nancy, smiles and tears struggling + together in her speech, as she sat down suddenly in her own pew and put + her hands over her face. + </p> + <p> + “They are,” agreed Justin humbly; “but I've never stopped loving you, + whenever I've had time for thinking or loving. And I was n't sure that you + really cared anything about me; and how could I have asked you when I had + n't a dollar in the world?” + </p> + <p> + “There are other things to give a woman besides dollars, Justin.” + </p> + <p> + “Are there? Well, you shall have them all, every one of them, Nancy, if + you can make up your mind to do without the dollars; for dollars seem to + be just what I can't manage.” + </p> + <p> + Her hand was in his by this time, and they were sitting side by side, in + the cushionless, carpetless Wentworth pew. The door stood open; the winter + moon shone in upon them. That it was beginning to grow cold in the church + passed unnoticed. The grasp of the woman's hand seemed to give the man new + hope and courage, and Justin's warm, confiding, pleading pressure brought + balm to Nancy, balm and healing for the wounds her pride had suffered; + joy, too, half-conscious still, that her life need not be lived to the end + in unfruitful solitude. She had waited, “as some gray lake lies, full and + smooth, awaiting the star below the twilight.” + </p> + <p> + Justin Peabody might have been no other woman's star, but he was Nancy's! + “Just you sitting beside me here makes me feel as if I'd been asleep or + dead all these years, and just born over again,” said Justin. “I've led a + respectable, hard-working, honest life, Nancy,” he continued, “and I don't + owe any man a cent; the trouble is that no man owes me one. I've got + enough money to pay two fares back to Detroit on Monday, although I was + terribly afraid you would n't let me do it. It'll need a good deal of + thinking and planning, Nancy, for we shall be very poor.” + </p> + <p> + Nancy had been storing up fidelity and affection deep, deep in the hive of + her heart all these years, and now the honey of her helpfulness stood + ready to be gathered. + </p> + <p> + “Could I keep hens in Detroit?” she asked. “I can always make them pay.” + </p> + <p> + “Hens—in three rooms, Nancy?” + </p> + <p> + Her face fell. “And no yard?” + </p> + <p> + “No yard.” + </p> + <p> + A moment's pause, and then the smile came. “Oh, well, I've had yards and + hens for thirty-five years. Doing without them will be a change. I can + take in sewing.” + </p> + <p> + “No, you can't, Nancy. I need your backbone and wits and pluck and + ingenuity, but if I can't ask you to sit with your hands folded for the + rest of your life, as I'd like to, you shan't use them for other people. + You're marrying me to make a man of me, but I'm not marrying you to make + you a drudge.” + </p> + <p> + His voice rang clear and true in the silence, and Nancy's heart vibrated + at the sound. + </p> + <p> + “O Justin, Justin! there's something wrong somewhere,” she whispered, “but + we'll find it out together, you and I, and make it right. You're not like + a failure. You don't even look poor, Justin; there is n't a man in + Edgewood to compare with you, or I should be washing his dishes and + darning his stockings this minute. And I am not a pauper! There'll be the + rent of my little house and a carload of my furniture, so you can put the + three-room idea out of your mind, and your firm will offer you a larger + salary when you tell them you have a wife to take care of. Oh, I see it + all, and it is as easy and bright and happy as can be!” + </p> + <p> + Justin put his arm around her and drew her close, with such a throb of + gratitude for her belief and trust that it moved him almost to tears. + There was a long pause; then he said:— + </p> + <p> + “Now I shall call for you tomorrow morning after the last bell has stopped + ringing, and we will walk up the aisle together and sit in the old Peabody + pew. We shall be a nine days' wonder anyway, but this will be equal to an + announcement, especially if you take my arm. We don't either of us like to + be stared at, but this will show without a word what we think of each + other and what we've promised to be to each other, and it's the only thing + that will make me feel sure of you and settled in my mind after all these + mistaken years. Have you got the courage, Nancy?” + </p> + <p> + “I should n't wonder! I guess if I've had courage enough to wait for you, + I've got courage enough to walk up the aisle with you and marry you + besides!” said Nancy.—“Now it is too late for us to stay here any + longer, and you must see me only as far as my gate, for perhaps you have + n't forgotten yet how interested the Brewsters are in their neighbors.” + </p> + <p> + They stood at the little Wentworth gate for a moment, hand close clasped + in hand. The night was clear, the air was cold and sparkling, but with + nothing of bitterness in it, the sky was steely blue, and the evening star + glowed and burned like a tiny sun. Nancy remembered the shepherd's song + she had taught the Sunday-School children, and repeated softly:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + For I my sheep was watching + Beneath the silent skies, + When sudden, far to eastward, + I saw a star arise; + Then all the peaceful heavens + With sweetest music rang, + And glory, glory, glory! + The happy angels sang. + + So I this night am joyful, + Though I can scarce tell why, + It seemeth me that glory + Hath met us very nigh; + And we, though poor and humble, + Have part in heavenly plan, + For, born tonight, the Prince of Peace + Shall rule the heart of man. +</pre> + <p> + Justin's heart melted within him like wax to the woman's vision and the + woman's touch. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Nancy, Nancy!” he whispered. “If I had brought my bad luck to you + long, long ago, would you have taken me then, and have I lost years of + such happiness as this?” + </p> + <p> + “There are some things it is not best for a man to be certain about,” said + Nancy, with a wise smile and a last goodnight. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + VIII. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Ring out, sweet bells, + O'er woods and dells + Your lovely strains repeat, + While happy throngs + With joyous songs + Each accent gladly greet. +</pre> + <p> + Christmas morning in the old Tory Hill Meeting-House was felt by all of + the persons who were present in that particular year to be a most exciting + and memorable occasion. + </p> + <p> + The old sexton quite outdid himself, for although he had rung the bell for + more than thirty years, he had never felt greater pride or joy in his + task. Was not his son John home for Christmas, and John's wife, and a + grand-child newly named Nathaniel for himself? Were there not spareribs + and turkeys and cranberries and mince pies on the pantry shelves, and + barrels of rosy Baldwins in the cellar and bottles of mother's root beer + just waiting to give a holiday pop? The bell itself forgot its age and the + suspicion of a crack that dulled its voice on a damp day, and, inspired by + the bright, frosty air, the sexton's inspiring pull, and the Christmas + spirit, gave out nothing but joyous tones. + </p> + <p> + <i>Ding-dong</i>! <i>Ding-dong</i>! It fired the ambitions of star + scholars about to recite hymns and sing solos. It thrilled little girls + expecting dolls before night. It excited beyond bearing dozens of little + boys being buttoned into refractory overcoats. <i>Ding-dong</i>! <i>Ding-dong</i>! + Mothers' fingers trembled when they heard it, and mothers' voices cried: + “If that is the second bell, the children will never be ready in time! + Where are the overshoes? Where are the mittens? Hurry, Jack! Hurry, + Jennie!” <i>Ding-dong</i>! <i>Ding-dong</i>! “Where's Sally's muff? + Where's father's fur cap? Is the sleigh at the door? Are the hot + soapstones in? Have all of you your money for the contribution box?” <i>Ding-dong</i>! + <i>Ding-dong</i>! It was a blithe bell, a sweet, true bell, a holy bell, + and to Justin pacing his tavern room, as to Nancy trembling in her maiden + chamber, it rang a Christmas message:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Awake, glad heart! Arise and sing; + It is the birthday of thy King! +</pre> + <p> + The congregation filled every seat in the old meeting-house. As Maria + Sharp had prophesied, there was one ill-natured spinster from a rival + village who declared that the church floor looked like Joseph's coat laid + out smooth; but in the general chorus of admiration, approval, and + goodwill, this envious speech, though repeated from mouth to mouth, left + no sting. + </p> + <p> + Another item of interest long recalled was the fact that on that august + and unapproachable day the pulpit vases stood erect and empty, though + Nancy Wentworth had filled them every Sunday since any one could remember. + This instance, though felt at the time to be of mysterious significance if + the cause were ever revealed, paled into nothingness when, after the + ringing of the last bell, Nancy Wentworth walked up the aisle on Justin + Peabody's arm, and they took their seats side by side in the old family + pew. + </p> + <p> + (“And consid'able close, too, though there was plenty o' room!”) + </p> + <p> + (“And no one that I ever heard of so much as suspicioned that they had + ever kept company!”) + </p> + <p> + (“And do you s'pose she knew Justin was expected back when she scrubbed + his pew a-Friday? “) + </p> + <p> + (“And this explains the empty pulpit vases! “) + </p> + <p> + (“And I always said that Nancy would make a real handsome couple if she + ever got anybody to couple with!”) + </p> + <p> + During the unexpected and solemn procession of the two up the aisle the + soprano of the village choir stopped short in the middle of the Doxology, + and the three other voices carried it to the end without any treble. Also, + among those present there were some who could not remember afterward the + precise petitions wafted upward in the opening prayer. + </p> + <p> + And could it be explained otherwise than by cheerfully acknowledging the + bounty of an overruling Providence that Nancy Wentworth should have had a + new winter dress for the first time in five years—a winter dress of + dark brown cloth to match her beaver muff and victorine? The existence of + this toilette had been known and discussed in Edgewood for a month past, + and it was thought to be nothing more than a proper token of respect from + a member of the carpet committee to the general magnificence of the church + on the occasion of its reopening after repairs. Indeed, you could have + identified every member of the Dorcas Society that Sunday morning by the + freshness of her apparel. The brown dress, then, was generally expected; + but why the white cashmere waist with collar and cuffs of point lace, + devised only and suitable only for the minister's wedding, where it first + saw the light? + </p> + <p> + “The white waist can only be explained as showing distinct hope!” + whispered the minister's wife during the reading of the church notices. + </p> + <p> + “To me it shows more than hope; I am very sure that Nancy would never take + any wear out of that lace for hope; it means certainty!” answered Maria, + who was always strong in the prophetic line. + </p> + <p> + Justin's identity had dawned upon most of the congregation by sermon time. + A stranger to all but one or two at first, his presence in the Peabody pew + brought his face and figure back, little by little, to the minds of the + old parishioners. + </p> + <p> + When the contribution plate was passed, the sexton always began at the + right-wing pews, as all the sextons before him had done for a hundred + years. Every eye in the church was already turned upon Justin and Nancy, + and it was with almost a gasp that those in the vicinity saw a ten-dollar + bill fall in the plate. The sexton reeled, or, if that is too intemperate + a word for a pillar of the church, the good man tottered, but caught hold + of the pew rail with one hand, and, putting the thumb of his other over + the bill, proceeded quickly to the next pew, lest the stranger should + think better of his gift, or demand change, as had occasionally been done + in the olden time. + </p> + <p> + Nancy never fluttered an eyelash, but sat quietly by Justin's side with + her bosom rising and falling under the beaver fur and her cold hands + clasped tight in the little brown muff. Far from grudging this appreciable + part of their slender resources, she thrilled with pride to see Justin's + offering fall in the plate. + </p> + <p> + Justin was too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice anything, but his + munificent contribution had a most unexpected effect upon his reputation, + after all; for on that day, and on many another later one, when his sudden + marriage and departure with Nancy Wentworth were under discussion, the + neighbors said to one another:—“Justin must be making money fast out + West! He put ten dollars in the contribution plate a-Sunday, and paid the + minister ten more next day for marryin' him to Nancy; so the Peabody luck + has turned at last!”—which as a matter of fact, it had. + </p> + <p> + “And all the time,” said the chairman of the carpet committee to the + treasurer of the Dorcas Society—“all the time, little as she + realized it, Nancy was laying the carpet in her own pew. Now she's married + to Justin, she'll be the makin' of him, or I miss my guess. You can't do a + thing with men-folks without they're right alongside where you can keep + your eye and hand on 'em. Justin's handsome and good and stiddy; all he + needs is some nice woman to put starch into him. The Edgewood Peabodys + never had a mite o' stiffenin' in 'em,—limp as dishrags, every + blessed one! Nancy Wentworth fairly rustles with starch. Justin had n't + been engaged to her but a few hours when they walked up the aisle + together, but did you notice the way he carried his head? I declare I + thought 't would fall off behind! I should n't wonder a mite but they + prospered and come back every summer to set in the Old Peabody Pew.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + SUSANNA AND SUE + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0027" id="link2H_4_0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + I. Mother Ann's Children + </h2> + <p> + It was the end of May, when “spring goeth all in white.” The apple trees + were scattering their delicate petals on the ground, dropping them over + the stone walls to the roadsides, where in the moist places of the shadows + they fell on beds of snowy innocence. Here and there a single tree was + tinged with pink, but so faintly, it was as if the white were blushing. + Now and then a tiny white butterfly danced in the sun and pearly clouds + strayed across the sky in fleecy flocks. + </p> + <p> + Everywhere the grass was of ethereal greenness, a greenness drenched with + the pale yellow of spring sunshine. Looking from earth to sky and from + blossom to blossom, the little world of the apple orchards, shedding its + falling petals like fair-weather snow, seemed made of alabaster and + porcelain, ivory and mother-of-pearl, all shimmering on a background of + tender green. + </p> + <p> + After you pass Albion village, with its streets shaded by elms and maples + and its outskirts embowered in blossoming orchards, you wind along a hilly + country road that runs between grassy fields. Here the whiteweed is + already budding, and there are pleasant pastures dotted with rocks and + fringed with spruce and fir; stretches of woodland, too, where the road is + lined with giant pines and you lift your face gratefully to catch the cool + balsam breath of the forest. Coming from out this splendid shade, this + silence too deep to be disturbed by light breezes or vagrant winds, you + find yourself on the brow of a descending hill. The first thing that + strikes the eye is a lake that might be a great blue sapphire dropped into + the verdant hollow where it lies. When the eye reluctantly leaves the lake + on the left, it turns to rest upon the little Shaker Settlement on the + right—a dozen or so large comfortable white barns, sheds, and + houses, standing in the wide orderly spaces of their own spreading acres + of farm and timber land. There again the spring goeth all in white, for + there is no spot to fleck the dazzling quality of Shaker paint, and their + apple, plum, and pear trees are so well cared for that the snowy blossoms + are fairly hiding the branches. + </p> + <p> + The place is very still, although there are signs of labor in all + directions. From a window of the girls' building a quaint little gray-clad + figure is beating a braided rug; a boy in homespun, with his hair slightly + long in the back and cut in a straight line across the forehead, is + carrying milk-cans from the dairy to one of the Sisters' Houses. Men in + broad-brimmed hats, with clean-shaven, ascetic faces, are ploughing or + harrowing here and there in the fields, while a group of Sisters is busy + setting out plants and vines in some beds near a cluster of noble trees. + That cluster of trees, did the eye of the stranger realize it, was the + very starting-point of this Shaker Community, for in the year 1785, the + valiant Father James Whittaker, one of Mother Ann Lee's earliest English + converts, stopped near the village of Albion on his first visit to Maine. + As he and his Elders alighted from their horses, they stuck into the + ground the willow withes they had used as whips, and now, a hundred years + later, the trees that had grown from these slender branches were nearly + three feet in diameter. + </p> + <p> + From whatever angle you look upon the Settlement, the first and strongest + impression is of quiet order, harmony, and a kind of austere plenty. + Nowhere is the purity of the spring so apparent. Nothing is out of place; + nowhere is any confusion, or appearance of loose ends, or neglected tasks. + As you come nearer, you feel the more surely that here there has never + been undue haste nor waste; no shirking, no putting off till the morrow + what should have been done today. Whenever a shingle or a clapboard was + needed it was put on, where paint was required it was used,—that is + evident; and a look at the great barns stored with hay shows how the + fields have been conscientiously educated into giving a full crop. + </p> + <p> + To such a spot as this might any tired or sinful heart come for rest; + hoping somehow, in the midst of such frugality and thrift, such + self-denying labor, such temperate use of God's good gifts, such shining + cleanliness of outward things, to regain and wear “the white flower of a + blameless life.” The very air of the place breathed peace, so thought + Susanna Hathaway; and little Sue, who skipped by her side, thought nothing + at all save that she was with mother in the country; that it had been + rather a sad journey, with mother so quiet and pale, and that she would be + very glad to see supper, should it rise like a fairy banquet in the midst + of these strange surroundings. + </p> + <p> + It was only a mile and a half from the railway station to the Shaker + Settlement, and Susanna knew the road well, for she had driven over it + more than once as child and girl. A boy would bring the little trunk that + contained their simple necessities later on in the evening, so she and Sue + would knock at the door of the house where visitors were admitted, and be + undisturbed by any gossiping company while they were pleading their case. + </p> + <p> + “Are we most there, Mardie?” asked Sue for the twentieth time. “Look at + me! I'm being a butterfly, or perhaps a white pigeon. No, I'd rather be a + butterfly, and then I can skim along faster and move my wings!” + </p> + <p> + The airy little figure, all lightness and brightness, danced along the + road, the white cotton dress rising and falling, the white-stockinged legs + much in evidence, the arms outstretched as if in flight, straw hat falling + off yellow hair, and a little wisp of swansdown scarf floating out behind + like the drapery of a baby Mercury. + </p> + <p> + “We are almost there,” her mother answered. “You can see the buildings + now, if you will stop being a butterfly. Don't you like them?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I 'specially like them all so white. Is it a town, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “It is a village, but not quite like other villages. I have told you often + about the Shaker Settlement, where your grandmother brought me once when I + was just your age. There was a thunder-storm; they kept us all night, and + were so kind that I never forgot them. Then your grandmother and I stopped + off once when we were going to Boston. I was ten then, and I remember more + about it. The same sweet Eldress was there both times.” + </p> + <p> + “What is an El-der-ess, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “A kind of everybody's mother, she seemed to be,” Susanna responded, with + a catch in her breath. + </p> + <p> + “I'd 'specially like her; will she be there now, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm hoping so, but it is eighteen years ago. I was ten and she was about + forty, I should think.” + </p> + <p> + “Then o' course she'll be dead,” said Sue, cheerfully, “or either she'll + have no teeth or hair.” + </p> + <p> + “People don't always die before they are sixty, Sue.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they die when they want to, or when they must?” + </p> + <p> + “Always when they must; never, never when they want to,” answered Sue's + mother. + </p> + <p> + “But o' course they would n't ever want to if they had any little girls to + be togedder with, like you and me, Mardie?” And Sue looked up with eyes + that were always like two interrogation points, eager by turns and by + turns wistful, but never satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “No,” Susanna replied brokenly, “of course they would n't, unless + sometimes they were wicked for a minute or two and forgot.” + </p> + <p> + “Do the Shakers shake all the time, Mardie, or just once in a while? And + shall I see them do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sue, dear, I can't explain everything in the world to you while you are + so little; you really must wait until you're more grown up. The Shakers + don't shake and the Quakers don't quake, and when you're older, I'll try + to make you understand why they were called so and why they kept the + name.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe the El-der-ess can make me understand right off now; I'd 'specially + like it.” And Sue ran breathlessly along to the gate where the North + Family House stood in its stately, white-and-green austerity. + </p> + <p> + Susanna followed, and as she caught up with the impetuous Sue, the front + door of the house opened and a figure appeared on the threshold. Mother + and child quickened their pace and went up the steps, Susanna with a + hopeless burden of fear and embarrassment clogging her tongue and dragging + at her feet; Sue so expectant of new disclosures and fresh experiences + that her face beamed like a full moon. + </p> + <p> + Eldress Abby (for it was Eldress Abby) had indeed survived the heavy + weight of her fifty-five or sixty summers, and looked as if she might + reach a yet greater age. She wore the simple Shaker afternoon dress of + drab alpaca; an irreproachable muslin surplice encircled her straight, + spare shoulders, while her hair was almost entirely concealed by the + stiffly wired, transparent white-net cap that served as a frame to the + tranquil face. The face itself was a network of delicate, fine wrinkles; + but every wrinkle must have been as lovely in God's sight as it was in + poor unhappy Susanna Hathaway's. Some of them were graven by self-denial + and hard work; others perhaps meant the giving up of home, of parents and + brothers or sisters; perhaps some worldly love, the love that Father Adam + bequeathed to the human family, had been slain in Abby's youth, and the + scars still remained to show the body's suffering and the spirit's + triumph. At all events, whatever foes had menaced her purity or her + tranquillity had been conquered, and she exhaled serenity as the rose + sheds fragrance. + </p> + <p> + “Do you remember the little Nelson girl and her mother that stayed here + all night, years ago?” asked Susanna, putting out her hand timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Why, seems to me I do,” assented Eldress Abby, genially. “So many comes + and goes it's hard to remember all. Did n't you come once in a + thunder-storm?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, one of your barns was struck by lightning and we sat up all night.” + “Yee, yee.(1) I remember well! Your mother was a beautiful spirit. I could + n't forget her.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (1) “Yea” is always thus pronounced by the Shakers. +</pre> + <p> + “And we came once again, mother and I, and spent the afternoon with you, + and went strawberrying in the pasture.” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, yee, so we did; I hope your mother continues in health.” + </p> + <p> + “She died the very next year,” Susanna answered in a trembling voice, for + the time of explanation was near at hand and her heart failed her. + </p> + <p> + “Won't you come into the sittingroom and rest a while? You must be tired + walking from the deepot.” + </p> + <p> + “No, thank you, not just yet. I'll step into the front entry a minute.—Sue, + run and sit in that rocking-chair on the porch and watch the cows going + into the big barn.—Do you remember, Eldress Abby, the second time I + came, how you sat me down in the kitchen with a bowl of wild strawberries + to hull for supper? They were very small and ripe; I did my best, for I + never meant to be careless, but the bowl slipped and fell, my legs were + too short to reach the floor, and I could n't make a lap, so in trying to + pick up the berries I spilled juice on nay dress, and on the white apron + you had tied on for me. Then my fingers were stained and wet and the hulls + kept falling in with the soft berries, and when you came in and saw me you + held up your hands and said, 'Dear, dear! you <i>have</i> made a mess of + your work!' Oh, Eldress Abby, they've come back to me all day, those + words. I've tried hard to be good, but somehow I've made just such a mess + of my life as I made of hulling the berries. The bowl is broken, I have + n't much fruit to show, and I am all stained and draggled. I should n't + have come to Albion on the five o'clock train—that was an accident; + I meant to come at noon, when you could turn me away if you wanted to.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, that is not the Shaker habit,” remonstrated Abby. “You and the child + can sleep in one of the spare chambers at the Office Building and be + welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “But I want much more than that,” said Susanna, tearfully. “I want to come + and live here, where there is no marrying nor giving in marriage. I am so + tired with my disappointments and discouragements and failures that it is + no use to try any longer. I am Mrs. Hathaway, and Sue is my child, but I + have left my husband for good and all, and I only want to spend the rest + of my days here in peace and bring up Sue to a more tranquil life than I + have ever had. I have a little money, so that I shall not be a burden to + you, and I will work from morning to night at any task you set me.” + </p> + <p> + “I will talk to the Family,” said Eldress Abby gravely; “but there are a + good many things to settle before we can say yee to all you ask.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me confess everything freely and fully,” pleaded Susanna, “and if you + think I'm to blame, I will go away at once.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, this is no time for that. It is our duty to receive all and try all; + then if you should be gathered in, you would unburden your heart to God + through the Sister appointed to receive your confession.” + </p> + <p> + “Will Sue have to sleep in the children's building away from me?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, not now; you are company, not a Shaker, and anyway you could keep + the child with you till she is a little older; that's not forbidden at + first, though there comes a time when the ties of the flesh must be + broken! All you've got to do now's to be 'pure and peaceable, gentle, easy + to be entreated, and without hypocrisy.' That's about all there is to the + Shaker creed, and that's enough to keep us all busy.” + </p> + <p> + Sue ran in from the porch excitedly and caught her mother's hand. + </p> + <p> + “The cows have all gone into the barn,” she chattered; “and the Shaker + gentlemen are milking them, and not one of them is shaking the least bit, + for I 'specially noticed; and I looked in through the porch window, and + there is nice supper on a table—bread and butter and milk and dried + apple sauce and gingerbread and cottage cheese. Is it for us, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + Susanna's lip was trembling and her face was pale. She lifted her swimming + eyes to the Sister's and asked, “Is it for us, Eldress Abby?” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, it's for you,” she answered; “there's always a Shaker supper on the + table for all who want to leave the husks and share the feast. Come right + in and help yourselves. I will sit down with you.” + </p> + <p> + Supper was over, and Susanna and Sue were lying in a little upper chamber + under the stars. It was the very one that Susanna had slept in as a child, + or that she had been put to bed in, for there was little sleep that night + for any one. She had leaned on the windowsill with her mother and watched + the pillar of flame and smoke ascend from the burning barn; and once in + the early morning she had stolen out of bed, and, kneeling by the open + window, had watched the two silent Shaker brothers who were guarding the + smouldering ruins, fearful lest the wind should rise and bear any spark to + the roofs of the precious buildings they had labored so hard to save. + </p> + <p> + The chamber was spotless and devoid of ornament. The paint was robin's egg + blue and of a satin gloss. The shining floor was of the same color, and + neat braided rugs covered exposed places near the bureau, washstand, and + bed. Various useful articles of Shaker manufacture interested Sue greatly: + the exquisite straw-work that covered the whisk-broom; the mending-basket, + pincushion, needle-book, spool- and watch-cases, hair-receivers, + pin-trays, might all have been put together by fairy fingers. + </p> + <p> + Sue's prayers had been fervent, but a trifle disjointed, covering all + subjects from Jack and Fardie, to Grandma in heaven and Aunt Louisa at the + farm, with special references to El-der-ess Abby and the Shaker cows, and + petitions that the next day be fair so that she could see them milked. + Excitement at her strange, unaccustomed surroundings had put the child's + mind in a very whirl, and she had astonished her mother with a very new + and disturbing version of the Lord's Prayer, ending: “God give us our + debts and help us to forget our debtors and theirs shall be the glory, + Amen.” Now she lay quietly on the wall side of the clean, narrow bed, + while her mother listened to hear the regular breathing that would mean + that she was off for the land of dreams. The child's sleep would leave the + mother free to slip out of bed and look at the stars; free to pray and + long and wonder and suffer and repent, not wholly, but in part, for she + was really at peace in all but the innermost citadel of her conscience. + She had left her husband, and for the moment, at all events, she was + fiercely glad; but she had left her boy, and Jack was only ten. Jack was + not the helpless, clinging sort; he was a little piece of his father, and + his favorite. Aunt Louisa would surely take him, and Jack would scarcely + feel the difference, for he had never shown any special affection for + anybody. Still he was her child, nobody could possibly get around that + fact, and it was a stumbling-block in the way of forgetfulness or ease of + mind. Oh, but for that, what unspeakable content she could feel in this + quiet haven, this self-respecting solitude! To have her thoughts, her + emotions, her words, her self, to herself once more, as she had had them + before she was married at seventeen. To go to sleep in peace, without + listening for a step she had once heard with gladness, but that now + sometimes stumbled unsteadily on the stair; or to dream as happy women + dreamed, without being roused by the voice of the present John, a voice so + different from that of the past John that it made the heart ache to listen + to it. + </p> + <p> + Sue's voice broke the stillness: “How long are we going to stay here, + Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, Sue; I think perhaps as long as they'll let us.” + </p> + <p> + “Will Fardie come and see us?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't expect him.” + </p> + <p> + “Who'll take care of Jack, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “Your Aunt Louisa.” + </p> + <p> + “She'll scold him awfully, but he never cries; he just says, 'Pooh! what + do I care?' Oh, I forgot to pray for that very nicest Shaker gentleman + that said he'd let me help him feed the calves! Had n't I better get out + of bed and do it? I'd 'specially like to.” + </p> + <p> + “Very well, Sue; and then go to sleep.” + </p> + <p> + Safely in bed again, there was a long pause, and then the eager little + voice began, “Who'll take care of Fardie now?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a big man; he does n't need anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “What if he's sick?” + </p> + <p> + “We must go back to him, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “Tomorrow 's Sunday; what if he needs us tomorrow, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know, I don't know! Oh, Sue, Sue, don't ask your wretched mother + any more questions, for she cannot bear them tonight. Cuddle up close to + her; love her and forgive her and help her to know what's right.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0028" id="link2H_4_0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + II. A Son of Adam + </h2> + <p> + When Susanna Nelson at seventeen married John Hathaway, she had the usual + cogent reasons for so doing, with some rather more unusual ones added + thereto. She was alone in the world, and her life with an uncle, her + mother's only relative, was an unhappy one. No assistance in the household + tasks that she had ever been able to render made her a welcome member of + the family or kept her from feeling a burden, and she belonged no more to + the little circle at seventeen than she did when she became a part of it + at twelve. The hope of being independent and earning her own living had + sustained her through the last year; but it was a very timid, + self-distrustful, love-starved little heart that John Hathaway stormed and + carried by assault. Her girl's life in a country school and her uncle's + very rigid and orthodox home had been devoid of emotion or experience; + still, her mother had early sown seeds in her mind and spirit that even in + the most arid soil were certain to flower into beauty when the time for + flowering came; and intellectually Susanna was the clever daughter of + clever parents. She was very immature, because, after early childhood, her + environment had not been favorable to her development. At seventeen she + began to dream of a future as bright as the past had been dreary and + uneventful. Visions of happiness, of goodness, and of service haunted her, + and sometimes, gleaming through the mists of dawning womanhood, the + figure, all luminous, of The Man! + </p> + <p> + When John Hathaway appeared on the horizon, she promptly clothed him in + all the beautiful garments of her dreams; they were a grotesque misfit, + but when we intimate that women have confused the dream and the reality + before, and may even do so again, we make the only possible excuse for + poor little Susanna Nelson. + </p> + <p> + John Hathaway was the very image of the outer world that lay beyond + Susanna's village. He was a fairly prosperous, genial, handsome young + merchant, who looked upon life as a place furnished by Providence in which + to have “a good time.” His parents had frequently told him that it was + expedient for him to “settle down,” and he supposed that he might finally + do so, if he should ever find a girl who would tempt him to relinquish his + liberty. (The line that divides liberty and license was a little vague to + John Hathaway!) It is curious that he should not have chosen for his + life-partner some thoughtless, rosy, romping young person, whose highest + conception of connubial happiness would have been to drive twenty miles to + the seashore on a Sunday, and having partaken of all the season's + delicacies, solid and liquid, to come home hilarious by moonlight. That, + however, is not the way the little love-imps do their work in the world; + or is it possible that they are not imps at all who provoke and stimulate + and arrange these strange marriages not imps, but honest, chastening + little character-builders? In any event, the moment that John Hathaway + first beheld Susanna Nelson was the moment of his surrender; yet the + wooing was as incomprehensible as that of a fragile, dainty little + hummingbird by a pompous, greedy, big-breasted robin. + </p> + <p> + Susanna was like a New England anemone. Her face was oval in shape and as + smooth and pale as a pearl. Her hair was dark, not very heavy, and as soft + as a child's. Her lips were delicate and sensitive, her eyes a cool gray,—clear, + steady, and shaded by darker lashes. When John Hathaway met her shy, + maidenly glance and heard her pretty, dovelike voice, it is strange he did + not see that there was a bit too much saint in her to make her a willing + comrade of his gay, roistering life. But as a matter of fact, John + Hathaway saw nothing at all; nothing but that Susanna Nelson was a lovely + girl and he wanted her for his own. The type was one he had never met + before, one that allured him by its mysteries and piqued him by its shy + aloofness. + </p> + <p> + John had “a way with him,” a way that speedily won Susanna; and after all + there was a best to him as well as a worst. He had a twinkling eye, an + infectious laugh, a sweet disposition, and while he was over-susceptible + to the charm of a pretty face, he had a chivalrous admiration for all + women, coupled, it must be confessed, with a decided lack of + discrimination in values. His boyish lightheartedness had a charm for + everybody, including Susanna; a charm that lasted until she discovered + that his heart was light not only when it ought to be light, but when it + ought to be heavy. He was very much in love with her, but there was + nothing particularly exclusive, unique, individual, or interesting about + his passion at that time. It was of the everyday sort which carries a + well-meaning man to the altar, and sometimes, in cases of exceptional + fervor and duration, even a little farther. Stock sizes of this article + are common and inexpensive, and John Hathaway's love when he married + Susanna was, judged by the highest standards, about as trivial an affair + as Cupid ever put upon the market or a man ever offered to a woman. + Susanna on the same day offered John, or the wooden idol she was + worshiping as John, her whole self—mind, body, heart, and spirit. So + the couple were united, and smilingly signed the marriage-register, a rite + by which their love for each other was supposed to be made eternal. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Will you love me?” said he. + “Will you love me?” said she. + Then they answered together: + “Through foul and fair weather, + From sunrise to moonrise, + From moonrise to sunrise, + By heath and by harbour, + In orchard or arbour, + In the time of the rose, + In the time of the snows, + Through smoke and through smother + We'll love one another!” + </pre> + <p> + Cinderella, when the lover-prince discovers her and fits the crystal + slipper to her foot, makes short work of flinging away her rags; and in + some such pretty, airy, unthinking way did Susanna fling aside the + dullness, inhospitality, and ugliness of her uncle's home and depart in a + cloud of glory on her wedding journey. She had been lonely, now she would + have companionship. She had been of no consequence, now she would be queen + of her own small domain. She had been last with everybody, now she would + be first with one, at least. She had worked hard and received neither + compensation nor gratitude; henceforward her service would be gladly + rendered at an altar where votive offerings would not be taken as a matter + of course. She was only a slip of a girl now; marriage and housewifely + cares would make her a woman. Some time perhaps the last great experience + of life would come to her, and then what a crown of joys would be hers,—love, + husband, home, children! What a vision it was, and how soon the chief + glory of it faded! + </p> + <p> + Never were two beings more hopelessly unlike than John Hathaway single and + John Hathaway married, but the bliss lasted a few years, nevertheless: + partly because Susanna's charm was deep and penetrating, the sort to hold + a false man for a time and a true man forever; partly because she tried, + as a girl or woman has seldom tried before, to do her duty and to keep her + own ideal unshattered. + </p> + <p> + John had always been convivial, but Susanna at seventeen had been at once + too innocent and too ignorant to judge a man's tendencies truly, or to + rate his character at its real worth. As time went on, his earlier + leanings grew more definite; he spent on pleasure far more than he could + afford, and his conduct became a byword in the neighborhood. His boy he + loved. He felt on a level with Jack, could understand him, play with him, + punish him, and make friends with him; but little Sue was different. She + always seemed to him the concentrated essence of her mother's soul, and + when unhappy days came, he never looked in her radiant, searching eyes + without a consciousness of inferiority. The little creature had loved her + jolly, handsome, careless father at first, even though she feared him; but + of late she had grown shy, silent, and timid, for his indifference chilled + her and she flung herself upon her mother's love with an almost + unchildlike intensity. This unhappy relation between the child and the + father gave Susanna's heart new pangs. She still loved her husband, not + dearly, but a good deal; and over and above that remnant of the old love + which still endured she gave him unstinted care and hopeful maternal + tenderness. + </p> + <p> + The crash came in course of time. John transcended the bounds of his + wife's patience more and more. She made her last protests; then she took + one passionate day to make up her mind, a day when John and the boy were + away together; a day of complete revolt against everything she was facing + in the present, and, so far as she could see, everything that she had to + face in the future. Prayer for light left her in darkness, and she had no + human creature to advise her. Conscience was overthrown; she could see no + duty save to her own outraged personality. Often and often during the year + just past she had thought of the peace, the grateful solitude and shelter + of that Shaker Settlement hidden among New England orchards; that quiet + haven where there was neither marrying nor giving in marriage. Now her + bruised heart longed for such a life of nunlike simplicity and + consecration, where men and women met only as brothers and sisters, where + they worked side by side with no thought of personal passion or personal + gain, but only for the common good of the community. + </p> + <p> + Albion village was less than three hours distant by train. She hastily + gathered her plainest clothes and Sue's, packed them in a small trunk, + took her mother's watch, her own little store of money and the + twenty-dollar gold piece John's senior partner had given Sue on her last + birthday, wrote a letter of goodbye to John, and went out of her cottage + gate in a storm of feeling so tumultuous that there was no room for + reflection. Besides, she had reflected, and reflected, for months and + months, so she would have said, and the time had come for action. Susanna + was not unlettered, but she certainly had never read Meredith or she would + have learned that “love is an affair of two, and only for two that can be + as quick, as constant in intercommunication as are sun and earth, through + the cloud, or face to face. They take their breath of life from each other + in signs of affection, proofs of faithfulness, incentives to admiration. + But a solitary soul dragging a log must make the log a God to rejoice in + the burden.” The demigod that poor, blind Susanna married had vanished, + and she could drag the log no longer, but she made one mistake in judging + her husband, in that she regarded him, at thirty-two, as a finished + product, a man who was finally this and that, and behaved thus and so, and + would never be any different. + </p> + <p> + The “age of discretion” is a movable feast of extraordinary uncertainty, + and John Hathaway was a little behindhand in overtaking it. As a matter of + fact, he had never for an instant looked life squarely in the face. He + took a casual glance at it now and then, after he was married, but it + presented no very distinguishable features, nothing to make him stop and + think, nothing to arouse in him any special sense of responsibility. Boys + have a way of “growing up,” however, sooner or later, at least most of + them have, and that possibility was not sufficiently in the foreground of + Susanna's mind when she finished what she considered an exhaustive study + of her husband's character. + </p> + <p> + I am leaving you, John [she wrote], to see if I can keep the little love I + have left for you as the father of my children. I seem to have lost all + the rest of it living with you. I am not perfectly sure that I am right in + going, for everybody seems to think that women, mothers especially, should + bear anything rather than desert the home. I could not take Jack away, for + you love him and he will be a comfort to you. A comfort to you, yes, but + what will you be to him now that he is growing older? That is the thought + that troubles me, yet I dare not take him with me when he is half yours. + You will not miss me, nor will the loss of Sue make any difference. Oh, + John! how can you help loving that blessed little creature, so much better + and so much more gifted than either of us that we can only wonder how we + came to be her father and mother? Your sin against her is greater than + that against me, for at least you are not responsible for bringing me into + the world. I know Louisa will take care of Jack, and she lives so near + that you can see him as often as you wish. I shall let her know my + address, which I have asked her to keep to herself. She will write to me + if you or Jack should be seriously ill, but not for any other reason. + </p> + <p> + As for you, there is nothing more that I can say except to confess freely + that I was not the right wife for you and that mine was not the only + mistake. I have tried my very best to meet you in everything that was not + absolutely wrong, and I have used all the arguments I could think of, but + it only made matters worse. I thought I knew you, John, in the old days. + How comes it that we have traveled so far apart, we who began together? It + seems to me that some time you must come to your senses and take up your + life seriously, for this is not life, the sorry thing you have lived + lately, but I cannot wait any longer! I am tired, tired, tired of waiting + and hoping, too tired to do anything but drag myself away from the sight + of your folly. You have wasted our children's substance, indulged your + appetites until you have lost the respect of your best friends, and you + have made me—who was your choice, your wife, the head of your house, + the woman who brought your children into the world—you have made me + an object of pity; a poor, neglected thing who could not meet her + neighbors' eyes without blushing. + </p> + <p> + When Jack and his father returned from their outing at eight o'clock in + the evening, having had supper at a wayside hotel, the boy went to bed + philosophically, lighting his lamp for himself, the conclusion being that + the two other members of the household were a little late, but would be in + presently. + </p> + <p> + The next morning was bright and fair. Jack waked at cockcrow, and after + calling to his mother and Sue, jumped out of bed, ran into their rooms to + find them empty, then bounced down the stairs two at a time, going through + the sitting-room on his way to find Ellen in the kitchen. His father was + sitting at the table with the still-lighted student lamp on it; the table + where lessons had been learned, books read, stories told, mending done, + checkers and dominoes played; the big, round walnut table that was the + focus of the family life—but mother's table, not father's. + </p> + <p> + John Hathaway had never left his chair nor taken off his hat. His cane + leaned against his knee, his gloves were in his left hand, while the right + held Susanna's letter. + </p> + <p> + He was asleep, although his lips twitched and he stirred uneasily. His + face was haggard, and behind his closed lids, somewhere in the center of + thought and memory, a train of fiery words burned in an ever-widening + circle, round and round and round, ploughing, searing their way through + some obscure part of him that had heretofore been without feeling, but was + now all quick and alive with sensation. + </p> + <p> + You have made me—who was your choice, your wife, the head of your + house, the woman who brought your children into the world—you have + made me an object of pity; a poor, neglected thing who could not meet her + neighbors' eyes without blushing. + </p> + <p> + Any one who wished to pierce John Hathaway's armor at that period of his + life would have had to use a very sharp and pointed arrow, for he was well + wadded with the belief that a man has a right to do what he likes. + Susanna's shaft was tipped with truth and dipped in the blood of her + outraged heart. The stored-up force of silent years went into the speeding + of it. She had never shot an arrow before, and her skill was instinctive + rather than scientific, but the powers were on her side and she aimed + better than she knew—those who took note of John Hathaway's behavior + that summer would have testified willingly to that. It was the summer in + which his boyish irresponsibility slipped away from him once and for all; + a summer in which the face of life ceased to be an indistinguishable mass + of meaningless events and disclosed an order, a reason, a purpose hitherto + unseen and undefined. The boy “grew up,” rather tardily it must be + confessed. His soul had not added a cubit to its stature in sunshine, + gayety, and prosperity; it took the shock of grief, hurt pride, solitude, + and remorse to make a man of John Hathaway. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0029" id="link2H_4_0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + III. Divers Doctrines + </h2> + <p> + It was a radiant July morning in Albion village, and when Sue first beheld + it from the bedroom window at the Shaker Settlement, she had wished + ardently that it might never, never grow dark, and that Jack and Fardie + might be having the very same sunshine in Farnham. It was not noon yet, + but experience had in some way tempered the completeness of her joy, for + the marks of tears were on her pretty little face. She had neither been + scolded nor punished, but she had been dragged away from a delicious play + without any adequate reason. She had disappeared after breakfast, while + Susanna was helping Sister Tabitha with the beds and the dishes, but as + she was the most docile of children, her mother never thought of anxiety. + At nine o'clock Eldress Abby took Susanna to the laundry house, and there + under a spreading maple were Sue and the two youngest little Shakeresses, + children of seven and eight respectively. Sue was directing the plays: + chattering, planning, ordering, and suggesting expedients to her + slower-minded and less experienced companions. They had dragged a large + box from one of the sheds and set it up under the tree. The interior had + been quickly converted into a commodious residence, one not in the least + of a Shaker type. Small bluing-boxes served for bedstead and dining-table, + bits of broken china for the dishes, while tiny flat stones were the + seats, and four clothes-pins, tastefully clad in handkerchiefs, surrounded + the table. + </p> + <p> + “Do they kneel in prayer before they eat, as all Believers do?” asked + Shaker Mary. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe Adam and Eve was Believers, 'cause who would have taught + them to be?” replied Sue; “still we might let them pray, anyway, though + clothespins don't kneel nicely.” + </p> + <p> + “I've got another one all dressed,” said little Shaker Jane. + </p> + <p> + “We can't have any more; Adam and Eve did n't have only two children in my + Sunday-School lesson, Cain and Abel,” objected Sue. + </p> + <p> + “Can't this one be a company?” pleaded Mary, anxious not to waste the + clothespin. + </p> + <p> + “But where could comp'ny come from?” queried Sue. “There was n't any more + people anywheres but just Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel. Put the + clothespin in your apron-pocket, Jane, and bimeby we'll let Eve have a + little new baby, and I'll get Mardie to name it right out of the Bible. + Now let's begin. Adam is awfully tired this morning; he says, 'Eve, I've + been workin' all night and I can't eat my breakfuss.' Now, Mary, you be + Cain, he's a little boy, and you must say, 'Fardie, play a little with me, + please!' and Fardie will say, 'Child'en should n't talk at the—'” + </p> + <p> + What subjects of conversation would have been aired at the Adamic family + board before breakfast was finished will never be known, for Eldress Abby, + with a firm but not unkind grasp, took Shaker Jane and Mary by their + little hands and said, “Morning's not the time for play; run over to + Sister Martha and help her shell the peas; then there'll be your seams to + oversew.” + </p> + <p> + Sue watched the disappearing children and saw the fabric of her dream fade + into thin air; but she was a person of considerable individuality for her + years. Her lip quivered, tears rushed to her eyes and flowed silently down + her cheeks, but without a glance at Eldress Abby or a word of comment she + walked slowly away from the laundry, her chin high. + </p> + <p> + “Sue meant all right, she was only playing the plays of the world,” said + Eldress Abby, “but you can well understand, Susanna, that we can't let our + Shaker children play that way and get wrong ideas into their heads at the + beginning. We don't condemn an honest, orderly marriage as a worldly + institution, but we claim it has no place in Christ's kingdom; therefore + we leave it to the world, where it belongs. The world's people live on the + lower plane of Adam; the Shakers try to live on the Christ plane, in + virgin purity, longsuffering, meekness, and patience.” + </p> + <p> + “I see, I know,” Susanna answered slowly, with a little glance at injured + Sue walking toward the house, “but we need n't leave the children unhappy + this morning, for I can think of a play that will comfort them and please + you. Come back, Sue! Wait a minute, Mary and Jane, before you go to Sister + Martha! We will play the story that Sister Tabitha told us last week. Do + you remember about Mother Ann Lee in the English prison? The soapbox will + be her cell, for it was so small she could not lie down in it. Take some + of the shingles, Jane, and close up the open side of the box. Do you see + the large brown spot in one of them, Mary? Push that very hard with a + clothespin and there 'll be a hole through the shingle; that's right! Now, + Sister Tabitha said that Mother Ann was kept for days without food, for + people thought she was a wicked, dangerous woman, and they would have been + willing to let her die of starvation. But there was a great keyhole in the + door, and James Whittaker, a boy of nineteen, who loved Mother Ann and + believed in her, put the stem of a clay pipe in the hole and poured a + mixture of wine and milk through it. He managed to do this day after day, + so that when the jailer opened the cell door, expecting to find Mother Ann + dying for lack of food, she walked out looking almost as strong and well + as when she entered. You can play it all out, and afterwards you can make + the ship that brought Mother Ann and the other Shakers from Liverpool to + New York. The clothes-pins can be who will they be, Jane?” + </p> + <p> + “William Lee, Nancy Lee, James Whittaker, and I forget the others,” + recited Jane, like an obedient parrot. + </p> + <p> + “And it will be splendid to have James Whittaker, for he really came to + Albion,” said Mary. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he stood on this very spot more than once,” mused Abby. “It was + Mother Ann's vision that brought them to this land, a vision of a large + tree with outstretching branches, every leaf of which shone with the + brightness of a burning torch! Oh! if the vision would only come true! If + Believers would only come to us as many as the leaves on the tree,” she + sighed, as she and Susanna moved away from the group of chattering + children, all as eager to play the history of Shakerism as they had been + to dramatize the family life of Adam and Eve. + </p> + <p> + “There must be so many men and women without ties, living useless lives, + with no aim or object in them,” Susanna said, “I wonder that more of them + do not find their way here. The peace and goodness and helpfulness of the + life sink straight into my heart. The Brothers and Sisters are so friendly + and cheery with one another; there is neither gossip nor hard words; there + is pleasant work, and your thoughts seem to be all so concentrated upon + right living that it is like heaven below, only I feel that the cross is + there, bravely as you all bear it.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “There are roses on my cross most beautiful to see, + As I turn from all the dross from which it sets me free,” + </pre> + <p> + quoted Eldress Abby, devoutly. + </p> + <p> + “It is easy enough for me,” continued Susanna, “for it was no cross for me + to give up my husband at the time; but oh, if a woman had a considerate, + loving man to live with, one who would strengthen her and help her to be + good, one who would protect and cherish her, one who would be an example + to his children and bring them up in the fear of the Lord—that would + be heaven below, too; and how could she bear to give it all up when it + seems so good, so true, so right? Might n't two people walk together to + God if both chose the same path?” + </p> + <p> + “It's my belief that one can find the road better alone than when somebody + else is going alongside to distract them. Not that the Lord is going to + turn anybody away, not even when they bring Him a lot of burned-out trash + for a gift,” said Eldress Abby, bluntly. “But don't you believe He sees + the difference between a person that comes to Him when there is nowhere + else to turn—a person that's tried all and found it wanting—and + one that gives up freely pleasure, and gain, and husband, and home, to + follow the Christ life?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, He must, He must,” Susanna answered faintly. “But the children, + Eldress Abby! If you had n't any, you could perhaps keep yourself from + wanting them; but if you had, how could you give them up? Jesus was the + great Saviour of mankind, but next to Him it seems as if the children had + been the little saviours, from the time the first one was born until this + very day!” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, I've no doubt they keep the worst of the world's people, those that + are living in carnal marriage without a thought of godliness, I've no + doubt children keep that sort from going to the lowest perdition,” allowed + Eldress Abby; “and those we bring up in the Community make the best + converts; but to a Shaker, the greater the sacrifice, the greater the + glory. I wish you was gathered in, Susanna, for your hands and feet are + quick to serve, your face is turned toward the truth, and your heart is + all ready to receive the revelation.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I need n't turn my back on one set of duties to take up another,” + murmured Susanna, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Yee; no doubt you do. Your business is to find out which are the higher + duties, and then do those. Just make up your mind whether you'd rather + replenish earth, as you've been doing, or replenish heaven, as we're + trying to do. But I must go to my work; ten o'clock in the morning's a + poor time to be discussing doctrine! You're for weeding, Susanna, I + suppose?” + </p> + <p> + Brother Ansel was seated at a grindstone under the apple trees, teaching + (intermittently) a couple of boys to grind a scythe, when Susanna came to + her work in the herb-garden, Sue walking discreetly at her heels. + </p> + <p> + Ansel was a slow-moving, humorously-inclined, easygoing Brother, who was + drifting into the kingdom of heaven without any special effort on his + part. + </p> + <p> + “I'd 'bout as lives be a Shaker as anything else,” had been his rather + dubious statement of faith when he requested admittance into the band of + Believers. “No more crosses, accordin' to my notion, an' consid'able more + chance o' crowns!” + </p> + <p> + His experience of life “on the Adamic plane,” the holy estate of + matrimony, being the chief sin of this way of thought, had disposed him to + regard woman as an apparently necessary, but not especially desirable, + being. The theory of holding property in common had no terrors for him. He + was generous, unambitious, frugal-minded, somewhat lacking in energy, and + just as actively interested in his brother's welfare as in his own, which + is perhaps not saying much. Shakerism was to him not a craving of the + spirit, not a longing of the soul, but a simple, prudent theory of + existence, lessening the various risks that man is exposed to in his + journey through this vale of tears. + </p> + <p> + “Womenfolks makes splendid Shakers,” he was wont to say. “They're all + right as Sisters, 'cause their belief makes 'em safe. It kind o' shears + 'em o' their strength; tames their sperits; takes the sting out of 'em an' + keeps 'em from bein' sassy an' domineerin'. Jest as long as they think + marriage is right, they'll marry ye spite of anything ye can do or say—four + of 'em married my father one after another, though he fit 'em off as hard + as he knew how. But if ye can once get the faith o' Mother Ann into 'em, + they're as good afterwards as they was wicked afore. There's no stoppin' + women-folks once ye get 'em started; they don't keer whether it's heaven + or the other place, so long as they get where they want to go!” + </p> + <p> + Elder Daniel Gray had heard Brother Ansel state his religious theories + more than once when he was first “gathered in,” and secretly lamented the + lack of spirituality in the new convert. The Elder was an instrument more + finely attuned; sober, humble, pure-minded, zealous, consecrated to the + truth as he saw it, he labored in and out of season for the faith he held + so dear; yet as the years went on, he noted that Ansel, notwithstanding + his eccentric views, lived an honest, temperate, Godfearing life, talking + no scandal, dwelling in unity with his brethren and sisters, and upholding + the banner of Shakerism in his own peculiar way. + </p> + <p> + As Susanna approached him, Ansel called out, “The yairbs are all ready for + ye, Susanna; the weeds have been on the rampage sence yesterday's rain. + Seems like the more uselesser a thing is, the more it flourishes. The + yairbs grow; oh, yes, they make out to <i>grow</i>; but you don't see 'em + come leapin' an' tearin' out o' the airth like weeds. Then there's the + birds! I've jest been stoppin' my grindin' to look at 'em carry on. Take + 'em all in all, there ain't nothin' so lazy an' aimless an' busy 'bout + nothin' as birds. They go kitin' 'roun' from tree to tree, hoppin' an' + chirpin', flyin' here an' there 'thout no airthly objeck 'ceptin' to fly + back ag'in. There's a heap o' useless critters in the univarse, but I + guess birds are 'bout the uselessest, 'less it's grasshoppers, mebbe.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't care what you say about the grasshoppers, Ansel, but you shan't + abuse the birds,” said Susanna, stooping over the beds of tansy and sage, + thyme and summer savory. “Weeds or no weeds, we're going to have a great + crop of herbs this year, Ansel!” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, so we be! We sowed more'n usual so's to keep the two jiners at work + long's we could.—Take that scythe over to the barn, Jacob, an' fetch + me another, an' step spry.” + </p> + <p> + “What's a 'jiner,' Ansel?” + </p> + <p> + “Winter Shakers, I call 'em. They're reg'lar constitooshanal + dyed-in-the-wool jiners, jinin' most anything an' hookin' on most + anywheres. They jine when it comes on too cold to sleep outdoors, an' they + onjine when it comes on spring. Elder Gray's always hopin' to gather in + new souls, so he gives the best of 'em a few months' trial. How are ye, + Hannah?” he called to a Sister passing through the orchard to search for + any possible green apples under the trees. “Make us a good old-fashioned + deep-dish pandowdy an' we'll all do our best to eat it!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose the 'jiners' get discouraged and fear they can't keep up to the + standard. Not everybody is good enough to lead a self-denying Shaker + life,” said Susanna, pushing back the close sunbonnet from her warm face, + which had grown younger, smoother, and sweeter in the last few weeks. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I s'pose likely; 'less they're same as me, a born Shaker,” Ansel + replied. “I don't hanker after strong drink; don't like tobaccer (always + could keep my temper 'thout smokin'), ain't partic'lar 'bout meat-eatin', + don't keer 'bout heapin' up riches, can't 'stand the ways o' worldly + women-folks, jest as lives confess my sins to the Elder as not, 'cause I + hain't sinned any to amount to anything sence I made my first confession; + there I be, a natural follerer o' Mother Ann Lee.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna drew her Shaker bonnet forward over her eyes and turned her back + to Brother Ansel under the pretense of reaching over to the rows of sweet + marjoram. She had never supposed it possible that she could laugh again, + and indeed she seldom felt like it, but Ansel's interpretations of Shaker + doctrine were almost too much for her latent sense of humor. + </p> + <p> + “What are you smiling at, and me so sad, Mardie?” quavered Sue, piteously, + from the little plot of easy weeding her mother had given her to do. “I + keep remembering my game! It was such a <i>Christian</i> game, too. Lots + nicer than Mother Ann in prison; for Jane said her mother and father was + both Believers, and nobody was good enough to pour milk through the + keyhole but her. I wanted to give the clothes-pins story names, like Hilda + and Percy, but I called them Adam and Eve and Cain and Abel just because I + thought the Shakers would 'specially like a Bible play. I love Elderess + Abby, but she does stop my happiness, Mardie. That's the second time + today, for she took Moses away from me when I was kissing him because he + pinched his thumb in the window.” + </p> + <p> + “Why did you do that, Sue?” remonstrated her mother softly, remembering + Ansel's proximity. “You never used to kiss strange little boys at home in + Farnham.” + </p> + <p> + “Moses is n't a boy; he's only six, and that's a baby; besides, I like him + better than any little boys at home, and that's the reason I kissed him; + there's no harm in boy-kissing, is there, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “You don't know anybody here very well yet; not well enough to kiss them,” + Susanna answered, rather hopeless as to the best way of inculcating the + undesirability of the Adamic plane of thought at this early age. “While we + stay here, Sue, we ought both to be very careful to do exactly as the + Shakers do.” + </p> + <p> + By this time mother and child had reached the orchard end of a row, and + Brother Ansel was thirstily waiting to deliver a little more of the + information with which his mind was always teeming. + </p> + <p> + “Them Boston people that come over to our public meetin' last Sunday,” he + began, “they was dretful scairt 'bout what would become o' the human race + if it should all turn Shakers. 'I guess you need n't worry,' I says; + 'it'll take consid'able of a spell to convert all you city folks,' I says, + 'an' after all, what if the world should come to an end?' I says. 'If half + we hear is true 'bout the way folks carry on in New York and Chicago, it's + 'bout time it stopped,' I says, 'an' I guess the Lord could do a + consid'able better job on a second one,' I says, 'after findin' out the + weak places in this.' They can't stand givin' up their possessions, the + world's folks; that's the principal trouble with 'em! If you don't have + nothin' to give up, like some o' the tramps that happen along here and + convince the Elder they're jest bustin' with the fear o' God, why, o' + course 't ain't no trick at all to be a Believer.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you have much to give up, Brother Ansel?” Susanna asked. “'Bout's + much as any sinner ever had that jined this Community,” replied Ansel, + complacently. “The list o' what I consecrated to this Society when I was + gathered in was: One horse, one wagon, one two-year-old heifer, one axe, + one saddle, one padlock, one bed and bedding, four turkeys, eleven hens, + one pair o' plough-irons, two chains, and eleven dollars in cash. Can you + beat that?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, things,” said Susanna, absent-mindedly. “I was thinking of + family and friends, pleasures and memories and ambitions and hopes.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess it don't pinch you any worse to give up a hope than it would a + good two-year-old heifer,” retorted Ansel; “but there, you can't never + tell what folks'll hang on to the hardest! The man that drove them Boston + folks over here last Sunday, did you notice him? the one that had the + sister with a bright red dress an' hat on?—Land! I could think just + how hell must look whenever my eye lighted on that girl's gitup!—Well, + I done my best to exhort that driver, bein' as how we had a good chance to + talk while we was hitchin' an' unhitchin' the team; an' Elder Gray always + says I ain't earnest enough in preachin' the faith;—but he did n't + learn anything from the meetin'. Kep' his eye on the Shaker bunnits, an' + took notice o' the marchin' an' dancin', but he did n't care nothin' 'bout + doctrine. + </p> + <p> + “'I draw the line at bein' a cerebrate,' he says. 'I'm willin' to sell all + my goods an' divide with the poor,' he says, 'but I ain't goin' to lie no + cerebrate. If I don't have no other luxuries, I will have a wife,' he + says. 'I've hed three, an' if this one don't last me out, I'll get + another, if it's only to start the kitchen fire in the mornin' an' put the + cat in the shed nights!'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IV. Louisa's Mind + </h2> + <p> + Louisa, otherwise Mrs. Adlai Banks, the elder sister of Susanna s husband, + was a rock-ribbed widow of forty-five summers,—forty-five winters + would seem a better phrase in which to assert her age,—who resided + on a small farm twenty miles from the manufacturing town of Farnham. + </p> + <p> + When the Fates were bestowing qualities of mind and heart upon the + Hathaway babies, they gave the more graceful, genial, likable ones to + John, not realizing, perhaps, what bad use he would make of them,—and + endowed Louisa with great deposits of honesty, sincerity, energy, piety, + and frugality, all so mysteriously compounded that they turned to granite + in her hands. If she had been consulted, it would have been all the same. + She would never have accepted John's charm of personality at the expense + of being saddled with his weaknesses, and he would not have taken her + cast-iron virtues at any price whatsoever. + </p> + <p> + She was sweeping her porch on that day in May when Susanna and Sue had + wakened in the bare upper chamber at the Shaker Settlement—Sue + clear-eyed, jubilant, expectant, unafraid; Susanna pale from her fitful + sleep, weary with the burden of her heart. + </p> + <p> + Looking down the road, Mrs. Banks espied the form of her brother John + walking in her direction and leading Jack by the hand. + </p> + <p> + This was a most unusual sight, for John's calls had been uncommonly few of + late years, since a man rarely visits a lady relative for the mere purpose + of hearing “a piece of her mind.” This piece, large, solid, highly + flavored with pepper, and as acid as mental vinegar could make it, was + Louisa Banks's only contribution to conversation when she met her brother. + She could not stop for any airy persiflage about weather, crops, or + politics when her one desire was to tell him what she thought of him. + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Louisa. Shake hands with your aunt, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + “He can't till I'm through sweeping. Good-morning, John; what brings you + here?” + </p> + <p> + John sat down on the steps, and Jack flew to the barn, where there was + generally an amiable hired man and a cheerful cow, both infinitely better + company than his highly respected and wealthy aunt. + </p> + <p> + “I came because I had to bring the boy to the only relation I've got in + the world,” John answered tersely. “My wife's left me.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, she's been a great while doing it,” remarked Louisa, digging her + broom into the cracks of the piazza floor and making no pause for + reflection. “If she had n't had the patience of Job and the meekness of + Moses, she'd have gone long before. Where'd she go?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know; she did n't say.” + </p> + <p> + “Did you take the trouble to look through the house for her? I ain't + certain you fairly know her by sight nowadays, do you?” + </p> + <p> + John flushed crimson, but bit his lip in an attempt to keep his temper. + “She left a letter,” he said, “and she took Sue with her.” + </p> + <p> + “That was all right; Sue's a nervous little thing and needs at least one + parent; she has n't been used to more, so she won't miss anything. Jack's + like most of the Hathaways; he'll grow up his own way, without anybody's + help or hindrance. What are you going to do with him?” + </p> + <p> + “Leave him with you, of course. What else could I do?” “Very well, I'll + take him, and while I'm about it I'd like to give you a piece of my mind.” + </p> + <p> + John was fighting for selfcontrol, but he was too wretched and remorseful + for rage to have any real sway over him. + </p> + <p> + “Is it the same old piece, or a different one?” he asked, setting his + teeth grimly. “I should n't think you'd have any mind left, you've given + so many pieces of it to me already.” + </p> + <p> + “I have some left, and plenty, too,” answered Louisa, dashing into the + house, banging the broom into a corner, coming out again like a breeze, + and slamming the door behind her. “You can leave the boy here and welcome; + I'll take good care of him, and if you don't send me twenty dollars a + month for his food and clothes, I'll turn him outdoors. The more + responsibility other folks rid you of, the more you'll let 'em, and I + won't take a feather's weight off you for fear you'll sink into + everlasting perdition.” + </p> + <p> + “I did n't expect any sympathy from you,” said John, drearily, pulling + himself up from the steps and leaning against the honeysuckle trellis. + “Susanna's just the same. Women are all as hard as the nether millstone. + They're hard if they're angels, and hard if they're devils; it does n't + make much difference.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess you've found a few soft ones, if report says true,” returned + Louisa, bluntly. “You'd better go and get some of their sympathy, the kind + you can buy and pay for. The way you've ruined your life turns me fairly + sick. You had a good father and mother, good education and advantages, + enough money to start you in business, the best of wives, and two children + any man could be proud of, one of 'em especially. You've thrown 'em all + away, and what for? Horses and cards and gay company, late suppers, with + wine, and for aught I know, whiskey, you the son of a man who did n't know + the taste of ginger beer! You've spent your days and nights with a pack of + carousing men and women that would take your last cent and not leave you + enough for honest burial.” + </p> + <p> + “It's a pity we did n't make a traveling preacher of you!” exclaimed John, + bitterly. “Lord Almighty, I wonder how such women as you can live in the + world, you know so little about it, and so little about men.” + </p> + <p> + “I know all I want to about 'em,” retorted Louisa, “and precious little + that's good. They 're a gluttonous, self-indulgent, extravagant, reckless, + pleasure-loving lot! My husband was one of the best of 'em, and he would + n't have amounted to a hill of beans if I had n't devoted fifteen years to + disciplining, uplifting, and strengthening him!” + </p> + <p> + “You managed to strengthen him so that he died before he was fifty!” + </p> + <p> + “It don't matter when a man dies,” said the remorseless Mrs. Banks, “if + he's succeeded in living a decent, Godfearing life. As for you, John + Hathaway, I'll tell you the truth if you are my brother, for Susanna's too + much of a saint to speak out.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't be afraid; Susanna's spoken out at last, plainly enough to please + even you!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm glad of it, for I did n't suppose she had spunk enough to resent + anything. I shall be sorry tomorrow, 's likely as not, for freeing my mind + as much as I have, but my temper's up and I'm going to be the humble + instrument of Providence and try to turn you from the error of your ways. + You've defaced and degraded the temple the Lord built for you, and if He + should come this minute and try to turn out the crowd of evildoers you've + kept in it, I doubt if He could!” + </p> + <p> + “I hope He'll approve of the way you've used your 'temple,'” said John, + with stinging emphasis. “I should n't want to live in such a noisy one + myself; I'd rather be a bat in a belfry. Goodbye; I've had a pleasant + call, as usual, and you've been a real sister to me in my trouble. You + shall have the twenty dollars a month. Jack's clothes are in that valise, + and there'll be a trunk tomorrow. Susanna said she'd write and let you + know her whereabouts.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, John Hathaway strode down the path, closed the gate behind him, + and walked rapidly along the road that led to the station. It was a quiet + road and he met few persons. He had neither dressed nor shaved since the + day before; his face was haggard, his heart was like a lump of lead in his + breast. Of what use to go to the empty house in Farnham when he could + stifle his misery by a night with his friends? + </p> + <p> + No, he could not do that, either! The very thought of them brought a sense + of satiety and disgust; the craving for what they would give him would + come again in time, no doubt, but for the moment he was sick to the very + soul of all they stood for. The feeling of complete helplessness, of + desertion, of being alone in mid-ocean without a sail or a star in sight, + mounted and swept over him. Susanna had been his sail, his star, although + he had never fully realized it, and he had cut himself adrift from her + pure, steadfast love, blinding himself with cheap and vulgar charms. + </p> + <p> + The next train to Farnham was not due for an hour. His steps faltered; he + turned into a clump of trees by the wayside and flung himself on the + ground to cry like a child, he who had not shed a tear since he was a boy + of ten. If Susanna could have seen that often longed-for burst of despair + and remorse, that sudden recognition of his sins against himself and her, + that gush of penitent tears, her heart might have softened once again; a + flicker of flame might have lighted the ashes of her dying love; she might + have taken his head on her shoulder, and said, “Never mind, John! Let's + forget, and begin all over again!” + </p> + <p> + Matters did not look any brighter for John the next week, for his senior + partner, Joel Atterbury, requested him to withdraw from the firm as soon + as matters could be legally arranged. He was told that he had not been + doing, nor earning, his share; that his way of living during the year just + past had not been any credit to “the concern,” and that he, Atterbury, + sympathized too heartily with Mrs. John Hathaway to take any pleasure in + doing business with Mr. John. + </p> + <p> + John's remnant of pride, completely humbled by this last withdrawal of + confidence, would not suffer him to tell Atterbury that he had come to his + senses and bidden farewell to the old life, or so he hoped and believed. + To lose a wife and child in a way infinitely worse than death; to hear the + unwelcome truth that as a husband you have grown so offensive as to be + beyond endurance; to have your own sister tell you that you richly deserve + such treatment; to be virtually dismissed from a valuable business + connection, all this is enough to sober any man above the grade of a moral + idiot, and John was not that; he was simply a self-indulgent, + pleasure-loving, thoughtless, willful fellow, without any great amount of + principle. He took his medicine, however, said nothing, and did his share + of the business from day to day doggedly, keeping away from his partner as + much as possible. + </p> + <p> + Ellen, the faithful maid of all work, stayed on with him at the old home; + Jack wrote to him every week, and often came to spend Sunday with him. + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Louisa's real good to me,” he told his father, “but she's not like + mother. Seems to me mother's kind of selfish staying away from us so long. + When do you expect her back?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know; not before winter, I'm afraid; and don't call her selfish, + I won't have it! Your mother never knew she had a self.” + </p> + <p> + “If she'd only left Sue behind, we could have had more good times, we + three together!” + </p> + <p> + “No, our family is four, Jack, and we can never have any good times, one, + two, or three of us, because we're four! When one's away, whichever it is, + it's wrong, but it's the worst when it's mother. Does your Aunt Louisa + write to her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sometimes, but she never lets me post the letters.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you write to your mother? You ought to, you know, even if you don't + have time for me. You could ask your aunt to enclose your letters in + hers.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you write to her, father?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I write twice a week,” John answered, thinking drearily of the + semi-weekly notes posted in Susanna's empty worktable upstairs. Would she + ever read them? He doubted it, unless he died, and she came back to settle + his affairs; but of course he would n't die, no such good luck. Would a + man die who breakfasted at eight, dined at one, supped at six, and went to + bed at ten? Would a man die who worked in the garden an hour every + afternoon, with half a day Saturday; that being the task most disagreeable + to him and most appropriate therefore for penance? + </p> + <p> + Susanna loved flowers and had always wanted a garden, but John had been + too much occupied with his own concerns to give her the needed help or + money so that she could carry out her plans. The last year she had lost + heart in many ways, so that little or nothing had been accomplished of all + she had dreamed. It would have been laughable, had it not been pathetic, + to see John Hathaway dig, delve, grub, sow, water, weed, transplant, + generally at the wrong moment, in that dream-garden of Susanna's. He asked + no advice and read no books. With feverish intensity, with complete + ignorance of Nature's laws and small sympathy with their intricacies, he + dug, hoed, raked, fertilized, and planted during that lonely summer. His + absentmindedness caused some expensive failures, as when the wide expanse + of Susanna's drying ground, which was to be velvety lawn, “came up” curly + lettuce; but he rooted out his frequent mistakes and patiently planted + seeds or roots or bulbs over and over and over and over, until something + sprouted in his beds, whether it was what he intended or not. While he + weeded the brilliant orange nasturtiums, growing beside the magenta + portulacca in a friendly proximity that certainly would never have existed + had the mistress of the house been the head-gardener, he thought of + nothing but his wife. He knew her pride, her reserve, her sensitive + spirit; he knew her love of truth and honor and purity, the standards of + life and conduct she had tried to hold him to so valiantly, and which he + had so dragged in the dust during the blindness and the insanity of the + last two years. + </p> + <p> + He, John Hathaway, was a deserted husband; Susanna had crept away all + wounded and resentful. Where was she living and how supporting herself and + Sue, when she could not have had a hundred dollars in the world? Probably + Louisa was the source of income; conscientious, infernally disagreeable + Louisa! + </p> + <p> + Would yet the rumor of his changed habit of life reach her by some means + in her place of hiding, sooner or later? Would she not yearn for a sight + of Jack? Would she not finally give him a chance to ask forgiveness, or + had she lost every trace of affection for him, as her letter seemed to + imply? He walked the garden paths, with these and other unanswerable + questions, and when he went to his lonely room at night, he held the lamp + up to a bit of poetry that he had cut from a magazine and pinned to the + looking-glass. If John Hathaway could be brought to the reading of poetry, + he might even glance at the Bible in course of time, Louisa would have + said. It was in May that Susanna had gone, and the first line of verse + held his attention. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + May comes, day comes, + One who was away comes; + All the earth is glad again, + Kind and fair to me. + + May comes, day comes, + One who was away comes; + Set her place at hearth and board + As it used to be. + + May comes, day comes, + One who was away comes; + Higher are the hills of home, + Bluer is the sea. +</pre> + <p> + The Hathaway house was in the suburbs, on a rise of ground, and as John + turned to the window he saw the full moon hanging yellow in the sky. It + shone on the verdant slopes and low wooded hills that surrounded the town, + and cast a glittering pathway on the ocean that bathed the beaches of the + nearby shore. + </p> + <p> + “How long shall I have to wait,” he wondered, “before my hills of home + look higher, and my sea bluer, because Susanna has come back to 'hearth + and board'!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0031" id="link2H_4_0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + V. The Little Quail Bird + </h2> + <p> + Susanna had helped at various household tasks ever since her arrival at + the Settlement, for there was no room for drones in the Shaker hive; but + after a few weeks in the kitchen with Martha, the herb-garden had been + assigned to her as her particular province, the Sisters thinking her + better fitted for it than for the preserving and pickling of fruit, or the + basket-weaving that needed special apprenticeship. + </p> + <p> + The Shakers were the first people to raise, put up, and sell garden seeds + in our present-day fashion, and it was they, too, who began the + preparation of botanical medicines, raising, gathering, drying, and + preparing herbs and roots for market; and this industry, driven from the + field by modern machinery, was still a valuable source of income in + Susanna's day. Plants had always grown for Susanna, and she loved them + like friends, humoring their weakness, nourishing their strength, + stimulating, coaxing, disciplining them, until they could do no less than + flourish under her kind and hopeful hand. + </p> + <p> + Oh, that sweet, honest, comforting little garden of herbs, with its + wholesome fragrances! Healing lay in every root and stem, in every leaf + and bud, and the strong aromatic odors stimulated her flagging spirit or + her aching head, after the sleepless nights in which she tried to decide + her future life and Sue's. + </p> + <p> + The plants were set out in neat rows and clumps, and she soon learned to + know the strange ones—chamomile, lobelia, bloodroot, wormwood, + lovage, boneset, lemon and sweet balm, lavender and rue, as well as she + knew the old acquaintances familiar to every country-bred child—pennyroyal, + peppermint or spearmint, yellow dock, and thoroughwort. + </p> + <p> + There was hoeing and weeding before the gathering and drying came; then + Brother Calvin, who had charge of the great press, would moisten the dried + herbs and press them into quarter- and half-pound cakes ready for Sister + Martha, who would superintend the younger Shakeresses in papering and + labeling them for the market. Last of all, when harvesting was over, + Brother Ansel would mount the newly painted seed-cart and leave on his + driving trip through the country. Ansel was a capital salesman, but + Brother Issachar, who once took his place and sold almost nothing, brought + home a lad on the seed-cart, who afterward became a shining light in the + Community. (“Thus,” said Elder Gray, “does God teach us the diversity of + gifts, whereby all may be unashamed.”) + </p> + <p> + If the Albion Shakers were honest and ardent in faith, Susanna thought + that their “works” would indeed bear the strictest examination. The + Brothers made brooms, floor and dish-mops, tubs, pails, and churns, and + indeed almost every trade was represented in the various New England + Communities. Physicians there were, a few, but no lawyers, sheriffs, + policemen, constables, or soldiers, just as there were no courts or + saloons or jails. Where there was perfect equality of possession and no + private source of gain, it amazed Susanna to see the cheery labor, often + continued late at night from the sheer joy of it, and the earnest desire + to make the Settlement prosperous. While the Brothers were hammering, + nailing, planing, sawing, ploughing, and seeding, the Sisters were carding + and spinning cotton, wool, and flax, making kerchiefs of linen, straw + Shaker bonnets, and dozens of other useful marketable things, not + forgetting their famous Shaker apple sauce. + </p> + <p> + Was there ever such a busy summer, Susanna wondered; yet with all the + early rising, constant labor, and simple fare, she was stronger and + hardier than she had been for years. The Shaker palate was never tickled + with delicacies, yet the food was well cooked and sufficiently varied. At + first there had been the winter vegetables: squash, yellow turnips, beets, + and parsnips, with once a week a special Shaker dinner of salt codfish, + potatoes, onions, and milk gravy. Each Sister served her turn as cook, but + all alike had a wonderful hand with flour, and the wholewheat bread, + cookies, ginger cake, and milk puddings were marvels of lightness. Martha, + in particular, could wean the novitiate Shaker from a too riotous devotion + to meat-eating better than most people, for every dish she sent to the + table was delicate, savory, and attractive. + </p> + <p> + Dear, patient, devoted Martha! How Susanna learned to love her as they + worked together in the big sunny, shining kitchen, where the cooking-stove + as well as every tin plate and pan and spoon might have served as a + mirror! Martha had joined the Society in her mother's arms, being given up + to the Lord and placed in “the children's order” before she was one year + old. + </p> + <p> + “If you should unite with us, Susanna,” she said one night after the early + supper, when they were peeling apples together, “you'd be thankful you + begun early with your little Sue, for she's got a natural attraction to + the world, and for it. Not but that she's a tender, loving, obedient + little soul; but when she's among the other young ones, there's a flyaway + look about her that makes her seem more like a fairy than a child.” + </p> + <p> + “She's having rather a hard time learning Shaker ways, but she'll do + better in time,” sighed her mother. “She came to me of her own accord + yesterday and asked: 'Bettent I have my curls cut off, Mardie?'” + </p> + <p> + “I never put that idea into her head,” Martha interrupted. “She's a + visitor and can wear her hair as she's been brought up to wear it.” + </p> + <p> + “I know, but I fear Sue was moved by other than religious reasons. 'I get + up so early, Mardie,' she said, 'and it takes so long to unsnarl and + untangle me, and I get so hot when I'm helping in the hayfield, and then I + have to be curled for dinner, and curled again for supper, and so it seems + like wasting both our times!' Her hair would be all the stronger for + cutting, I thought, as it's so long for her age; but I could n't put the + shears to it when the time came, Martha. I had to take her to Eldress + Abby. She sat up in front of the little looking-glass as still as a mouse, + while the curls came off, but when the last one fell into Abby's apron, + she suddenly put her hands over her face and cried: 'Oh, Mardie, we shall + never be the same togedder, you and I, after this!'—She seemed to + see her 'little past,' her childhood, slipping away from her, all in an + instant. I did n't let her know that I cried over the box of curls last + night!” + </p> + <p> + “You did wrong,” rebuked Martha. “You should n't make an idol of your + child or your child's beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't think God might put beauty into the world just to give His + children joy, Martha?” + </p> + <p> + Martha was no controversialist. She had taken her opinions, ready-made, + from those she considered her superiors, and although she was willing to + make any sacrifice for her religion, she did not wish to be confused by + too many opposing theories of God's intentions. + </p> + <p> + “You know I never argue when I've got anything baking,” she said; and + taking the spill of a corn-broom from a table-drawer, she opened the oven + door and delicately plunged it into the loaf. Then, gazing at the straw as + she withdrew it, she said: “You must talk doctrine with Eldress Abby, + Susanna, not with me; but I guess doctrine won't help you so much as + thinking out your life for yourself. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “No one can sing my psalm for me, + Reward must come from labor, + I'll sow for peace, and reap in truth + God's mercy and his favor!” + </pre> + <p> + Martha was the chief musician of the Community, and had composed many + hymns and tunes—some of them under circumstances that she believed + might entitle them to be considered directly inspired. Her clear full + voice filled the kitchen and floated out into the air after Susanna, as + she called Sue and, darning-basket in hand, walked across the road to the + great barn. + </p> + <p> + The herb-garden was one place where she could think out her life, although + no decision had as yet been born of those thoughtful mornings. + </p> + <p> + Another spot for meditation was the great barn, relic of the wonderful + earlier days, and pride of the present Settlement. A hundred and + seventy-five feet long and three and a half stories high, it dominated the + landscape. First, there was the cellar, where all the refuse fell, to do + its duty later on in fertilizing the farm lands; then came the first + floor, where the stalls for horses, oxen, and cows lined the walls on + either side. Then came the second floor, where hay was kept, and to reach + this a bridge forty feet long was built on stone piers ten feet in height, + sloping up from the ground to the second story. Over the easy slope of + this bridge the full haycarts were driven, to add their several burdens to + the golden haymows. High at the top was an enormous grain room, where mounds + of yellow corn-ears reached from floor to ceiling; and at the back was a + great window opening on Massabesic Pond and Knights' Hill, with the White + Mountains towering blue or snow-capped in the distance. There was an + old-fashioned, list-bottomed, straight-backed Shaker chair in front of the + open window, a chair as uncomfortable as Shaker doctrines to the daughter + of Eve, and there Susanna often sat with her sewing or mending, Sue at her + feet building castles out of corncobs, plaiting the husks into little + mats, or taking out basting threads from her mother's work. + </p> + <p> + “My head feels awfully undressed without my curls, Mardie,” she said. “I'm + most afraid Fardie won't like the looks of me; do you think we ought to + have asked him before we shingled me?—He does <i>despise</i> + unpretty things so!” + </p> + <p> + “I think if we had asked him he would have said, 'Do as you think best.'” + </p> + <p> + “He always says that when he does n't care what you do,” observed Sue, + with one of her startling bursts of intuition. “Sister Martha has a + printed card on the wall in the children's diningroom, and I've got to + learn all the poetry on it because I need it worse than any of the others:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “What we deem good order, we're willing to state, + Eat hearty and decent, and clear out your plate; + Be thankful to heaven for what we receive, + And not make a mixture or compound to leave. + + “We often find left on the same China dish, + Meat, apple sauce, pickle, brown bread and minced fish: + Another's replenished with butter and cheese, + With pie, cake, and toast, perhaps, added to these.” + </pre> + <p> + “You say it very nicely,” commended Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “There's more:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Now if any virtue in this can be shown, + By peasant, by lawyer, or king on the throne; + We freely will forfeit whatever we've said, + And call it a virtue to waste meat and bread. +</pre> + <p> + “There's a great deal to learn when you're being a Shaker,” sighed Sue, as + she finished her rhyme. + </p> + <p> + “There's a great deal to learn everywhere,” her mother answered. “What + verse did Eldress Abby give you today?” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “For little tripping maids may follow God + Along the ways that saintly feet have trod,” + </pre> + <p> + quoted the child. “Am I a tripping maid, Mardie?” she continued. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, dear.” “If I trip too much, might n't I fall?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I suppose so.” + </p> + <p> + “Is tripping the same as skipping?” + </p> + <p> + “About the same.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it polite to trip an' skip when you're following God?” + </p> + <p> + “It could n't be impolite if you meant to be good. A tripping maid means + just a young one.” + </p> + <p> + “What is a maid?” + </p> + <p> + “A little girl.” + </p> + <p> + “When a maid grows up, what is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Why she's a maiden, I suppose.” + </p> + <p> + “When a maiden grows up, what is she?” + </p> + <p> + “Just a woman, Sue.” + </p> + <p> + “What is saintly feet?” + </p> + <p> + “Feet like those of Eldress Abby or Elder Gray; feet of people who have + always tried to do right.” + </p> + <p> + “Are Brother Ansel's feet saintly?” + </p> + <p> + “He's a good, kind, hardworking man.” + </p> + <p> + “Is good, kind, hardworking, same as saintly?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's not so very different, perhaps. Now, Sue, I've asked you + before, don't let your mind grope, and your little tongue wag, every + instant; it is n't good for you, and it certainly is n't good for me!” + </p> + <p> + “All right; but 'less I gropeanwag sometimes, I don't see how I'll ever + learn the things I 'specially want to know?” sighed Sue the insatiable. + </p> + <p> + “Shall I tell you a Shaker story, one that Eldress Abby told me last + evening?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, do, Mardie!” cried Sue, crossing her feet, folding her hands, and + looking up into her mother's face expectantly. + </p> + <p> + “Once there was a very good Shaker named Elder Calvin Green, and some one + wrote him a letter asking him to come a long distance and found a + Settlement in the western part of New York State. He and some other Elders + and Eldresses traveled five days, and stopped at the house of a certain + Joseph Pelham to spend Sunday and hold a meeting. On Monday morning, very + tired, and wondering where to stay and begin his preaching, the Elder went + out into the woods to pray for guidance. When he rose from his knees, + feeling stronger and lighter-hearted, a young quail came up to him so + close that he picked it up. It was not a bit afraid, neither did the old + parent birds who were standing near by show any sign of fear, though they + are very timid creatures. The Elder smoothed the young bird's feathers a + little while and then let it go, but he thought an angel seemed to say to + him, 'The quail is a sign; you will know before night what it means, and + before tomorrow people will be coming to you to learn the way to God.' + </p> + <p> + “Soon after, a flock of these shy little birds alighted on Joseph Pelham's + house, and the Elders were glad, and thought it signified the flock of + Believers that would gather in that place; for the Shakers see more in + signs than other people. Just at night a young girl of twelve or thirteen + knocked at the door and told Elder Calvin that she wanted to become a + Shaker, and that her father and mother were willing. + </p> + <p> + “'Here is the little quail!' cried the Elder, and indeed she was the first + who flocked to the meetings and joined the new Community. + </p> + <p> + “On their return to their old home across the state the Elders took the + little quail girl with them. It was November then, and the canals through + which they traveled were clogged with ice. One night, having been ferried + across the Mohawk River, they took their baggage and walked for miles + before they could find shelter. Finally, when they were within three miles + of their home, Elder Calvin shortened the way by going across the open + fields through the snow, up and down the hills and through the gullies and + over fences, till they reached the house at midnight, safe and sound, the + brave little quail girl having trudged beside them the whole distance, + carrying her tin pail.” + </p> + <p> + Sue was transported with interest, her lips parted, her eyes shining, her + hands clasped. “Oh, I wish I could be a brave little quail girl, Mardie! + What became of her?” + </p> + <p> + “Her name was Polly Reed, and when she grew up, she became a teacher of + the Shaker school, then an Eldress, and even a preacher. I don't know what + kind of a little quail girl you would make, Sue; do you think you could + walk for miles through the ice and snow uncomplainingly?” + </p> + <p> + “I don' know's I could,” sighed Sue; “but,” she added hopefully, “perhaps + I could teach or preach, and then I could gropeanwag as much as ever I + liked.” Then, after a lengthy pause, in which her mind worked feverishly, + she said, “Mardie, I was just groping a little bit, but I won't do it any + more tonight. If the old quail birds in the woods where Elder Calvin + prayed, if those old birds had been Shaker birds, there would n't have + been any little quail birds, would there, because Shakers don't have + children, and then perhaps there would n't have been any little Polly + Reed.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna rose hurriedly from the list-bottomed chair and folded her work. + “I'll go up and help you undress now,” she said; “it's seven o'clock, and + I must go to the family meeting.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0032" id="link2H_4_0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VI. Susanna Speaks in Meeting + </h2> + <p> + It was the Sabbath day and the Believers were gathered in the + meetinghouse, Brethren and Sisters seated quietly on their separate + benches, with the children by themselves in their own place. As the men + entered the room they removed their hats and coats and hung them upon + wooden pegs that lined the sides of the room, while the women took off + their bonnets; then, after standing for a moment of perfect silence, they + seated themselves. + </p> + <p> + In Susanna's time the Sunday costume for the men included trousers of deep + blue cloth with a white line and a vest of darker blue, exposing a + full-bosomed shirt that had a wide turned-down collar fastened with three + buttons. The Sisters were in pure white dresses, with neck and shoulders + covered with snowy kerchiefs, their heads crowned with their white net + caps, and a large white pocket handkerchief hung over the left arm. Their + feet were shod with curious pointed-toed cloth shoes of ultramarine blue—a + fashion long since gone by. + </p> + <p> + Susanna had now become accustomed to the curious solemn march or dance in + which of course none but the Believers ever joined, and found in her + present exalted mood the songs and the exhortations strangely interesting + and not unprofitable. + </p> + <p> + Tabitha, the most aged of the group of Albion Sisters, confessed that she + missed the old times when visions were common, when the Spirit manifested + itself in extraordinary ways, and the gift of tongues descended. + Sometimes, in the Western Settlement where she was gathered in, the whole + North Family would march into the highway in the fresh morning hours, and + while singing some sacred hymn, would pass on to the Center Family, and + together in solemn yet glad procession they would mount the hillside to + “Jehovah's Chosen Square,” there to sing and dance before the Lord. + </p> + <p> + “I wish we could do something like that now!” sighed Hetty Arnold, a + pretty young creature who had moments of longing for the pomps and + vanities. “If we have to give up all worldly pleasures, I think we might + have more religious ones!” + </p> + <p> + “We were a younger church in those old times of which Sister Tabitha + speaks,” said Eldress Abby. “You must remember, Hetty, that we were + children in faith, and needed signs and manifestations, pictures and + object-lessons. We've been trained to think and reason now, and we've put + away some of our picture-books. There have been revelations to tell us we + needed movements and exercises to quicken our spiritual powers, and to + give energy and unity to our worship, and there have been revelations + telling us to give them up; revelations bidding us to sing more, + revelations telling us to use wordless songs. Then anthems were given us, + and so it has gone on, for we have been led of the Spirit.” + </p> + <p> + “I'd like more picture-books,” pouted Hetty under her breath. + </p> + <p> + Today the service began with a solemn song, followed by speaking and + prayer from a visiting elder. Then, after a long and profound silence, the + company rose and joined in a rhythmic dance which signified the onward + travel of the soul to full redemption; the opening and closing of the + hands meaning the scattering and gathering of blessing. There was no + accompaniment, and both the music and the words were the artless + expression of fervent devotion. + </p> + <p> + Susanna sat in her corner beside the aged Tabitha, who would never dance + again before the Lord, though her quavering voice joined in the chorus. + The spring floor rose and fell under the quick rhythmic tread of the + worshipers, and with each revolution about the room the song gained in + power and fervor. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I am never weary bringing my life unto God, + I am never weary singing His way is good. + With the voice of an angel with power from above, + I would publish the blessing of soul-saving love. +</pre> + <p> + The steps grew slower and more sedate, the voices died away, the arms sank + slowly by the sides, and the hands ceased their movement. + </p> + <p> + Susanna rose to her feet, she knew not how or why. Her cheeks were + flushed, her head bent. + </p> + <p> + “Dear friends,” she said, “I have now been among you for nearly three + months, sharing your life, your work, and your worship. You may well wish + to know whether I have made up my mind to join this Community, and I can + only say that although I have prayed for light, I cannot yet see my way + clearly. I am happy here with you, and although I have been a church + member for years, I have never before longed so ardently to present my + body and soul as a sacrifice unto the Lord. I have tried not to be a + burden to you. The small weekly sum that I put into the treasury I will + not speak of, lest I seem to think that the 'gift of God may be purchased + with money,' as the Scriptures say; but I have endeavored to be loyal to + your rules and customs, your aims and ideals, and to the confidence you + have reposed in me. Oh, my dear Sisters and Brothers, pray for me that I + be enabled to see my duty more plainly. It is not the fleshpots that will + call me back to the world; if I go, it will be because the duties I have + left behind take such shape that they draw me out of his shelter in spite + of myself. I thank you for the help you have given me these last weeks; + God knows my gratitude can never be spoken in words.” + </p> + <p> + Elder Gray's voice broke the silence that followed Susanna's speech. “I + only echo the sentiments of the Family when I say that our Sister Susanna + shall have such time as she requires before deciding to unite with this + body of Believers. No pressure shall be brought to bear upon her, and she + will be, as she ever has been, a welcome guest under our roof. She has + been an inspiration to the children, a comfort and aid to the Sisters, an + intelligent comrade to the Brethren, and a sincere and earnest student of + the truth. May the Spirit draw her into the Virgin Church of the New + Creation!” + </p> + <p> + “Yee and amen!” exclaimed Eldress Abby, devoutly: “'For thus saith the + Lord of hosts: I will shake the heavens, and the earth, and the sea, and + the dry land; and I will shake all nations, and the desire of all nations + shall come: and I will fill this house with glory, saith the Lord of + hosts.'” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “O Virgin Church, how great the light, + What cloud can dim thy way?” + </pre> + <p> + sang Martha from her place at the end of a bench; and all the voices took + up the hymn softly as the company sat with bowed heads. + </p> + <p> + Then Brother Issachar rose from his corner, saying: “Jesus called upon his + disciples to give up everything: houses, lands, relationships, and even + the selfishness of their own lives. They could not call their lives their + own. 'Lo! we have left all and followed thee,' said Peter; 'fathers, + mothers, wives, children, houses, lands, and even our own lives also.' It + is a great price to pay, but we buy Heaven with it!” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, we do,” said Brother Thomas Scattergood, devoutly. “To him that + overcometh shall the great prize be given.” + </p> + <p> + “God help the weaker brethren!” murmured young Brother Nathan, in so low a + voice that few could hear him. Moved by the same impulse, Tabitha, Abby, + and Martha burst into one of the most triumphant of the Shaker songs, one + that was never sung save when the meeting was “full of the Spirit”:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “I draw no blank nor miss the prize, + I see the work, the sacrifice, + And I'll be loyal, I'll be wise, A faithful overcomer!” + </pre> + <p> + The company rose and began again to march in a circle around the center of + the room, the Brethren two abreast leading the column, the Sisters + following after. There was a waving movement of the hands by drawing + inward as if gathering in spiritual good and storing it up for future + need. In the marching and countermarching the worshipers frequently + changed their positions, ultimately forming into four circles, symbolical + of the four dispensations as expounded in Shakerism, the first from Adam + to Abraham; the second from Abraham to Jesus; the third from Jesus to + Mother Ann Lee; and the fourth the millennial era. + </p> + <p> + The marching grew livelier; the bodies of the singers swayed lightly with + emotion, the faces glowed with feeling. + </p> + <p> + Over and over the hymn was sung, gathering strength and fullness as the + Believers entered more and more into the spirit of their worship. Whenever + the refrain came in with its militant fervor, crude, but sincere and + effective, the singers seemed faith-intoxicated; and Sister Martha in + particular might have been treading the heavenly streets instead of the + meetinghouse floor, so complete was her absorption. The voices at length + grew softer, and the movement slower, and after a few moments' reverent + silence the company filed out of the room solemnly and without speech. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + I am as sure that heav'n is mine + As though my vision could define + Or pencil draw the boundary line + Where love and truth shall conquer. +</pre> + <p> + “The Lord ain't shaken Susanna hard enough yet,” thought Brother Ansel + shrewdly from his place in the rear. “She ain't altogether gathered in, + not by no manner o' means, because of that unregenerate son of Adam she's + left behind; but there's the makin's of a pow'ful good Shaker in Susanna, + if she finally takes holt!” + </p> + <p> + “What manner of life is my husband living, now that I have deserted him? + Who is being a mother to Jack?” These were the thoughts that troubled + Susanna Hathaway's soul as she crossed the grass to her own building. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0033" id="link2H_4_0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VII. “The Lower Plane” + </h2> + <p> + Brother Nathan Bennett was twenty years old and Sister Hetty Arnold was + eighteen. They had been left with the Shakers by their respective parents + ten years before, and, growing up in the faith, they formally joined the + Community when they reached the age of discretion. Thus they had known + each other from early childhood, never in the familiar way common to the + children of the world, but with the cool, cheerful, casual, wholly + impersonal attitude of Shaker friendship, a relation seemingly outside of + and superior to sex, a relation more like that of two astral bodies than + the more intimate one of a budding Adam and Eve. + </p> + <p> + When and where had this relationship changed its color and meaning? + Neither Nathan nor Hetty could have told. For years Nathan had sat at his + end of the young men's bench at the family or the public meeting, with + Hetty exactly opposite him at the end of the girls' row, and for years + they had looked across the dividing space at each other with unstirred + pulses. The rows of Sisters sat in serene dignity, one bench behind + another, and each Sister was like unto every other in Nathan's vague, + dreamy, boyishly indifferent eyes. Some of them were seventy and some + seventeen, but each modest figure sat in its place with quiet folded + hands. The stiff caps hid the hair, whether it was silver or gold; the + white surplices covered the shoulders and concealed beautiful curves as + well as angular outlines; the throats were scarcely visible, whether they + were yellow and wrinkled or young and white. The Sisters were simply + sisters to fair-haired Nathan, and the Brothers were but brothers to + little black-eyed Hetty. + </p> + <p> + Once—was it on a Sunday morning?—Nathan glanced across the + separating space that is the very essence and sign of Shakerism. The dance + had just ceased, and there was a long, solemn stillness when God indeed + seemed to be in one of His holy temples and the earth was keeping silence + before Him. Suddenly Hetty grew to be something more than one of the + figures in a long row: she chained Nathan's eye and held it. + </p> + <p> + “Through her garments the grace of her glowed.” He saw that, in spite of + the way her hair had been cut and stretched back from the forehead, a + short dusky tendril, softened and coaxed by the summer heat, had made its + way mutinously beyond the confines of her cap. Her eyes were cast down, + but the lashes that swept her round young cheek were quite different from + any other lashes in the Sisters' row. Her breath came and went softly + after the exertion of the rhythmic movements, stirring the white muslin + folds that wrapped her from throat to waist. He looked and looked, until + his body seemed to be all eyes, absolutely unaware of any change in + himself; quite oblivious of the fact that he was regarding the girl in any + new and dangerous way. + </p> + <p> + The silence continued, long and profound, until suddenly Hetty raised her + beautiful lashes and met Nathan's gaze, the gaze of a boy just turned to + man: ardent, warm, compelling. There was a startled moment of recognition, + a tremulous approach, almost an embrace, of regard; each sent an electric + current across the protective separating space, the two pairs of eyes met + and said, “I love you,” in such clear tones that Nathan and Hetty marveled + that the Elder did not hear them. Somebody says that love, like a scarlet + spider, can spin a thread between two hearts almost in an instant, so fine + as to be almost invisible, yet it will hold with the tenacity of an iron + chain. The thread had been spun; it was so delicate that neither Nathan + nor Hetty had seen the scarlet spider spinning it, but the strength of + both would not avail to snap the bond that held them together. + </p> + <p> + The moments passed. Hetty's kerchief rose and fell, rose and fell + tumultuously, while her face was suffused with color. Nathan's knees + quivered under him, and when the Elder rose, and they began the sacred + march, the lad could hardly stand for trembling. He dreaded the moment + when the lines of Believers would meet, and he and Hetty would walk the + length of the long room almost beside each other. Could she hear his heart + beating, Nathan wondered; while Hetty was palpitating with fear lest + Nathan see her blushes and divine their meaning. Oh, the joy of it, the + terror of it, the strange exhilaration and the sudden sensation of sin and + remorse! + </p> + <p> + The meeting over, Nathan flung himself on the haymow in the great barn, + while Hetty sat with her “Synopsis of Shaker Theology” at an open window + of the girls' building, seeing nothing in the lines of print but visions + that should not have been there. It was Nathan who felt most and suffered + most and was most conscious of sin, for Hetty, at first, scarcely knew + whither she was drifting. + </p> + <p> + She went into the herb-garden with Susanna one morning during the week + that followed the fatal Sunday. Many of the plants to be used for + seasoning—sage, summer savory, sweet marjoram, and the like—were + quite ready for gathering. As the two women were busy at work, Susanna as + full of her thoughts as Hetty of hers, the sound of a step was heard + brushing the grass of the orchard. Hetty gave a nervous start; her cheeks + grew so crimson and her breath so short that Susanna noticed the change. + </p> + <p> + “It will be Brother Ansel coming along to the grindstone,” Hetty + stammered, burying her head in the leaves. + </p> + <p> + “No,” Susanna answered, “it is Nathan. He has a long pole with a saw on + the end. He must be going to take the dead branches off the apple trees; I + heard Ansel tell him yesterday to do it.” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, that will be it,” said Hetty, bending over the plants as if she were + afraid to look elsewhere. + </p> + <p> + Nathan came nearer to the herb-garden. He was a tall, stalwart, handsome + enough fellow, even in his quaint working garb. As the Sisters spun and + wove the cloth as well as cut and made the men's garments, and as the + Brothers themselves made the shoes, there was naturally no great air of + fashion about the Shaker raiment; but Nathan carried it better than most. + His skin was fair and rosy, the down on his upper lip showed dawning + manhood, and when he took off his broad-brimmed straw hat and stretched to + his full height to reach the upper branches of the apple trees, he made a + picture of clean, wholesome, vigorous youth. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly Susanna raised her head and surprised Hetty looking at the lad + with all her heart in her eyes. At the same moment Nathan turned, and + before he could conceal the telltale ardor of his glance, it had sped to + Hetty. With the instinct of self-preservation he stooped instantly as if + to steady the saw on the pole, but it was too late to mend matters: his + tale was told so far as Susanna was concerned; but it was better she + should suspect than one of the Believers or Eldress Abby. + </p> + <p> + Susanna worked on in silent anxiety. The likelihood of such crises as this + had sometimes crossed her mind, and knowing how frail human nature is, she + often marveled that instances seemed so infrequent. Her instinct told her + that in every Community the risk must exist, even though all were doubly + warned and armed against the temptations that flesh is heir to; yet no + hint of danger had showed itself during the months in which she had been a + member of the Shaker family. She had heard the Elder's plea to the young + converts to take up “a full cross against the flesh”; she had listened to + Eldress Abby when she told them that the natural life, its thoughts, + passions, feelings, and associations, must be turned against once and + forever; but her heart melted in pity for the two poor young things + struggling helplessly against instincts of which they hardly knew the + meaning, so cloistered had been the life they lived. The kind, + conscientious hands that had fed them would now seem hard and unrelenting; + the place that had been home would turn to a prison; the life that Elder + Gray preached, “the life of a purer godliness than can be attained by + marriage,” had seemed difficult, perhaps, but possible; and now how cold + and hopeless it would appear to these two young, undisciplined, flaming + hearts! + </p> + <p> + “Hetty dear, talk to me!” whispered Susanna, softly touching her shoulder, + and wondering if she could somehow find a way to counsel the girl in her + perplexity. + </p> + <p> + Hetty started rebelliously to her feet as Nathan moved away farther into + the orchard. “If you say a single thing to me, or a word about me to + Eldress Abby, I'll run away this very day. Nobody has any right to speak + to me, and I just want to be let alone! It's all very well for you,” she + went on passionately. “What have you had to give up? Nothing but a husband + you did n't love and a home you did n't want to stay in. Like as not + you'll be a Shaker, and they'll take you for a saint; but anyway you'll + have had your life.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, Hetty,” said Susanna, quietly; “but oh! my dear, the world + outside isn't such a Paradise for young girls like you, motherless and + fatherless and penniless. You have a good home here; can't you learn to + like it?” + </p> + <p> + “Out in the world people can do as they like and nobody thinks of calling + them wicked!” sobbed Hetty, flinging herself down, and putting her head in + Susanna's aproned lap. “Here you've got to live like an angel, and if you + don't, you've got to confess every wrong thought you've had, when the time + comes.” + </p> + <p> + “Whatever you do, Hetty, be open and aboveboard; don't be hasty and + foolish, or you may be sorry forever afterwards.” + </p> + <p> + Hetty's mood changed again suddenly to one of mutiny, and she rose to her + feet. + </p> + <p> + “You have n't got any right to interfere with me anyway, Susanna; and if + you think it's your duty to tell tales, you'll only make matters worse”; + and so saying she took her basket and fled across the fields like a hunted + hare. + </p> + <p> + That evening, as Hetty left the infirmary, where she had been sent with a + bottle of liniment for the nursing Sisters, she came upon Nathan standing + gloomily under the spruce trees near the back of the building. It was + eight o'clock and quite dark. It had been raining during the late + afternoon and the trees were still dripping drearily. Hetty came upon + Nathan so suddenly, that, although he had been in her thoughts, she gave a + frightened little cry when he drew her peremptorily under the shadow of + the branches. The rules that govern the Shaker Community are very strict, + but in reality the true Believer never thinks of them as rules, nor is + trammeled by them. They are fixed habits of the blood, as common, as + natural, as sitting or standing, eating or drinking. No Brother is allowed + to hold any lengthy interview with a Sister, nor to work, walk, or drive + with her alone; but these protective customs, which all are bound in honor + to keep, are too much a matter of everyday life to be strange or irksome. + </p> + <p> + “I must speak to you, Hetty,” whispered Nathan. “I cannot bear it any + longer alone. What shall we do?” + </p> + <p> + “Do?” echoed Hetty, trembling. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, <i>do</i>.” There was no pretense of asking her if she loved or + suffered, or lived in torture and suspense. They had not uttered a word to + each other, but their eyes had “shed meanings.” + </p> + <p> + “You know we can't go on like this,” he continued rapidly. “We can't eat + their food, stay alongside of them, pray their prayers and act a lie all + the time, we can't!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, we can't!” said Hetty. “Oh, Nathan, shall we confess all and see if + they will help us to resist temptation? I know that's what Susanna would + want me to do, but oh! I should dread it.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, it is too late,” Nathan answered drearily. “They could not help us, + and we should be held under suspicion forever after.” + </p> + <p> + “I feel so wicked and miserable and unfaithful, I don't know what to do!” + sobbed Hetty. + </p> + <p> + “Yee, so do I!” the lad answered. “And I feel bitter against my father, + too. He brought me here to get rid of me, because he did n't dare leave me + on somebody's doorstep. He ought to have come back when I was grown a man + and asked me if I felt inclined to be a Shaker, and if I was good enough + to be one!” + </p> + <p> + “And my stepfather would n't have me in the house, so my mother had to + give me away; but they're both dead, and I'm alone in the world, though + I've never felt it, because the Sisters are so kind. Now they will hate me—though + they don't hate anybody.” + </p> + <p> + “You've got me, Hetty! We must go away and be married. We'd better go + tonight to the minister in Albion.” + </p> + <p> + “What if he would n't do it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why should n't he? Shakers take no vows, though I feel bound, hand and + foot, out of gratitude. If any other two young folks went to him, he would + marry them; and if he refuses, there are two other ministers in Albion, + besides two more in Buryfield, five miles farther. If they won't marry us + tonight, I'll leave you in some safe home and we 'll walk to Portland + tomorrow. I'm young and strong, and I know I can earn our living somehow.” + </p> + <p> + “But we have n't the price of a lodging or a breakfast between us,” Hetty + said tearfully. “Would it be sinful to take some of my basketwork and send + back the money next week?” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, it would be so,” Nathan answered sternly. “The least we can do is to + go away as empty-handed as we came. I can work for our breakfast.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I can't bear to disappoint Eldress Abby,” cried Hetty, breaking anew + into tears. “She'll say we've run away to live on the lower plane after + agreeing to crucify Nature and follow the angelic life!” + </p> + <p> + “I know; but there are five hundred people in Albion all living in + marriage, and we shan't be the only sinners!” Nathan argued. “Oh, Sister + Hetty, dear Hetty, keep up your spirits and trust to me!” + </p> + <p> + Nathan's hand stole out and met Hetty's in its warm clasp, the first hand + touch that the two ignorant young creatures had ever felt. Nathan's + knowledge of life had been a journey to the Canterbury Shakers in New + Hampshire with Brother Issachar; Hetty's was limited to a few drives into + Albion village, and half a dozen chats with the world's people who came to + the Settlement to buy basketwork. + </p> + <p> + “I am not able to bear the Shaker life!” sighed Nathan. “Elder Gray allows + there be such!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” murmured Hetty. “Eldress Harriet knows I am no saint!” + </p> + <p> + Hetty's head was now on Nathan's shoulder. The stiff Shaker cap had + resisted bravely, but the girl's head had yielded to the sweet proximity. + Youth called to youth triumphantly; the Spirit was unheard, and all the + theories of celibacy and the angelic life that had been poured into their + ears vanished into thin air. The thick shade of the spruce tree hid the + kiss that would have been so innocent, had they not given themselves to + the Virgin Church; the drip, drip, drip of the branches on their young + heads passed unheeded. + </p> + <p> + Then, one following the other silently along the highroad, hurrying along + in the shadows of the tall trees, stealing into the edge of the woods, or + hiding behind a thicket of alders at the fancied sound of a footstep or + the distant rumble of a wagon, Nathan and Hetty forsook the faith of + Mother Ann and went out into the world as Adam and Eve left the garden, + with the knowledge of good and evil implanted in their hearts. The voice + of Eldress Abby pursued Hetty in her flight like the voice in a dream. She + could hear its clear impassioned accents, saying, “The children of this + world marry; but the children of the resurrection do not marry, for they + are as the angels.” The solemn tones grew fainter and fainter as Hetty's + steps led her farther and farther away from the quiet Shaker village and + its drab-clad Sisters, and at last they almost died into silence, because + Nathan's voice was nearer and Nathan's voice was dearer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0034" id="link2H_4_0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + VIII. Concerning Backsliders + </h2> + <p> + There was no work in the herb-garden now, but there was never a moment + from dawn till long after dusk when the busy fingers of the Shaker Sisters + were still. When all else failed there was the knitting: socks for the + Brothers and stockings for the Sisters and socks and stockings of every + size for the children. One of the quaint sights of the Settlement to + Susanna was the clump of young Sisters on the porch of the girls' + building, knitting, knitting, in the afternoon sun. Even little Shaker + Jane and Mary, Maria and Lucinda, had their socks in hand, and plied their + short knitting-needles soberly and not unskillfully. The sight of their + industry incited the impetuous Sue to effort, and under the patient + tutelage of Sister Martha she mastered the gentle art. Susanna never + forgot the hour when, coming from her work in the seed-room, she crossed + the grass with a message to Martha, and saw the group of children and + girls on the western porch, a place that caught every ray of afternoon + sun, the last glint of twilight, and the first hint of sunset glow. Sister + Martha had been reading the Sabbath-School lesson for the next day, and as + Susanna neared the building, Martha's voice broke into a hymn. Falteringly + the girls' voices followed the lead, uncertain at first of words or tune, + but gaining courage and strength as they went on:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “As the waves of the mighty ocean + Gospel love we will circulate, + And as we give, in due proportion, + We of the heavenly life partake. + Heavenly Life, Glorious Life, + Resurrecting, Soul-Inspiring, + Regenerating Gospel Life, + It leadeth away from all sin and strife.” + </pre> + <p> + The clear, innocent treble sounded sweetly in the virgin stillness and + solitude of the Settlement, and as Susanna drew closer she stopped under a + tree to catch the picture—Sister Martha, grave, tall, discreet, + singing with all her soul and marking time with her hands, so accustomed + to the upward and downward movement of the daily service. The straight, + plain dresses were as fresh and smooth as perfect washing could make them, + and the round childlike faces looked quaint and sweet with the cropped + hair tucked under the stiff little caps. Sue was seated with Mary and Jane + on the steps, and Susanna saw with astonishment that her needles were + moving to and fro and she was knitting as serenely and correctly as a + mother in Israel; singing, too, in a delicate little treble that was like + a skylark's morning note. Susanna could hear her distinctly as she + delightedly flung out the long words so dear to her soul and so difficult + to dull little Jane and Mary:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Resurrecting, Soul-Inspiring, + Regenerating Gospel Life, + It leadeth away from all sin and strife.” + </pre> + <p> + Jane's cap was slightly unsettled, causing its wearer to stop knitting now + and then and pull it forward or push it back; and in one of these little + feminine difficulties Susanna saw Sue reach forward and deftly transfer + the cap to her own head. Jane was horrified, but rather slow to wrath and + equally slow in ingenuity. Sue looked a delicious Shaker with her delicate + face, her lovely eyes, and her yellow hair grown into soft rings; and + quite intoxicated with her cap, her knitting, and the general air of + holiness so unexpectedly emanating from her, she moved her little hands up + and down, as the tune rose and fell, in a way that would have filled + Eldress Abby with joy. Susanna's heart beat fast, and she wondered for a + moment, as she went back to her room, whether she could ever give Sue a + worldly childhood more free from danger than the life she was now living. + She found letters from Aunt Louisa and Jack on reaching her room, and they + lay in her lap under a pile of towels, to be read and reread while her + busy needle flew over the coarse crash. Sue stole in quietly, kissed her + mother's cheek, and sat down on her stool by the window, marveling, with + every “under” of the needle and “over” of the yarn, that it was she, Sue + Hathaway, who was making a real stocking. + </p> + <p> + Jack's pen was not that of an especially ready writer, but he had a + practical way of conveying considerable news. His present contributions, + when freed from their phonetic errors and spelled in Christian fashion, + read somewhat as follows: + </p> + <p> + Father says I must write to you every week, even if I make him do without, + so I will. I am well, and so is Aunt Louisa, and any boy that lives with + her has to toe the mark, I tell you; but she is good and has fine things + to eat every meal. What did Sue get for her birthday? I got a book from + father and one from Aunt Louisa and the one from you that you told her to + buy. It is queer that people will give a boy books when he has only one + knife, and that a broken one. There's a book prize to be given at the + school, and I am pretty afraid I will get that, too; it would be just my + luck. Teachers think about nothing but books and what good they do, but I + heard of a boy that had a grand knife with five sharp blades and a + corkscrew, and in a shipwreck he cut all the ropes, so the sail came down + that was carrying them on to the rocks, and then by boring a hole with his + corkscrew all the water leaked out of the ship that had been threatening + to sink the sailors. I could use a little pocket money, as Aunt Louisa + keeps me short. ... I have been spending Sunday with father, and had a + pretty good time, not so very. Father will take me about more when he + stops going to the store, which will be next week for good. The kitchen + floor is new painted, and Ellen says it sticks, and Aunt Louisa is going + to make Ellen clean house in case you come home. Do you like where you + are? Our teacher told the girls' teacher it seemed a long stay for any one + who had a family, and the boys at school call me a half orphan and say my + mother has left me and so my father has to board me in the country. My + money is run out again. I sat down in a puddle this afternoon, but it + dried up pretty quick and did n't hurt my clothes, so no more from your + son + </p> + <p> + JACK. + </p> + <p> + This was the sort of message that had been coming to Susanna of late, + bringing up little pictures of home duties and responsibilities, homely + tasks and trials. “John giving up the store for good”; what did that mean? + Had he gone from bad to worse in the solitude that she had hoped might + show him the gravity of his offenses, the error of his ways? In case she + should die, what then would become of the children? Would Louisa accept + the burden of Jack, for whom she had never cared? Would the Shakers take + Sue? She would be safe; perhaps she would always be happy; but brother and + sister would be divided and brought up as strangers. Would little Sue, + grown to big Sue, say some time or other, “My mother renounced the world + for herself, but what right had she to renounce it for me? Why did she rob + me of the dreams of girlhood and the natural hopes of women, when I was + too young to give consent?” These and other unanswerable questions + continually drifted through Susanna's mind, disturbing its balance and + leaving her like a shuttlecock bandied to and fro between conflicting + blows. + </p> + <p> + “Mardie,” came a soft little voice from across the room; “Mardie, what is + a backslider?” + </p> + <p> + “Where did you hear that long word, Sue?” asked Susanna, rousing herself + from her dream. + </p> + <p> + “'T is n't so long as 'regenerating' and more easier.” + </p> + <p> + “Regenerating means 'making over,' you know.” + </p> + <p> + “There'd ought to be children's words and grownup words,—that's what + I think,” said Sue, decisively; “but what does 'backslider' mean?” + </p> + <p> + “A backslider is one who has been climbing up a hill and suddenly begins + to slip back.” + </p> + <p> + “Does n't his feet take hold right, or why does he slip?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he can't manage his feet;—perhaps they just won't climb.” + 295 + </p> + <p> + “Yes, or p'raps he just does n't want to climb any more; but it must be + frightensome, sliding backwards.” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose it is.” + </p> + <p> + “Is it wicked?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes, it is, generally; perhaps always.” + </p> + <p> + “Brother Nathan and Sister Hetty were backsliders; Sister Tabitha said so. + She told Jane never to speak their names again any more than if they was + dead.” + </p> + <p> + “Then you had better not speak of them, either.” + </p> + <p> + “There's so many things better not to speak of in the world, sometimes I + think 't would be nicer to be an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “Nicer, perhaps, but one has to be very good to be an angel.” + </p> + <p> + “Backsliders could n't be angels, I s'pose?” + </p> + <p> + “Not while they were backsliders; but perhaps they'd begin to climb again, + and then in time they might grow to be angels.” + </p> + <p> + “I should n't think likely,” remarked Sue, decisively, clicking her + needles as one who could settle most spiritual problems in a jiffy. “I + think the sliding kind is diff'rent from the climbing kind, and they don't + make easy angels.” + </p> + <p> + A long pause followed this expression of opinion, this simple division of + the human race, at the start, into sheep and goats. Then presently the + untiring voice broke the stillness again. + </p> + <p> + “Nathan and Hetty slid back when they went away from here. Did we + backslide when we left Fardie and Jack?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not sure but that we did,” said poor Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “There's children-Shakers, and brother-and-sister Shakers, but no + father-and-mother Shakers?” + </p> + <p> + “No; they think they can do just as much good in the world without being + mothers and fathers.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think so?” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es, I believe I do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, are you a truly Shaker, or can't you be till you wear a cap?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm not a Shaker yet, Sue.” + </p> + <p> + “You're just only a mother?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, that's about all.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe we'd better go back to where there's not so many Sisters and more + mothers, so you 'll have somebody to climb togedder with?” + </p> + <p> + “I could climb here, Sue, and so could you.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but who'll Fardie and Jack climb with? I wish they'd come and see + us. Brother Ansel would make Fardie laugh, and Jack would love farmwork, + and we'd all be so happy. I miss Fardie awfully! He did n't speak to me + much, but I liked to look at his curly hair and think how lovely it would + be if he did take notice of me and play with me.” + </p> + <p> + A sob from Susanna brought Sue, startled, to her side. + </p> + <p> + “You break my heart, Sue! You break it every day with the things you say. + Don't you love me, Sue?” + </p> + <p> + “More'n tongue can tell!” cried Sue, throwing herself into her mother's + arms. “Don't cry, darling Mardie! I won't talk any more, not for days and + days! Let me wipe your poor eyes. Don't let Elder Gray see you crying, or + he'll think I've been naughty. He's just going in downstairs to see + Eldress Abby. Was it wrong what I said about backsliding, or what, Mardie? + We'll help each udder climb, an' then we'll go home an' help poor lonesome + Fardie; shall we?” + </p> + <p> + “Abby!” called Elder Gray, stepping into the entry of the Office Building. + </p> + <p> + “Yee, I'm coming,” Eldress Abby answered from the stairway. “Go right out + and sit down on the bench by the door, where I can catch a few minutes' + more light for my darning; the days seem to be growing short all to once. + Did Lemuel have a good sale of basket-work at the mountains? Rosetta has + n't done so well for years at Old Orchard. We seem to be prospering in + every material direction, Daniel, but my heart is heavy somehow, and I + have to be instant in prayer to keep from discouragement.” + </p> + <p> + “It has n't been an altogether good year with us spiritually,” confessed + Daniel; “perhaps we needed chastening.” + </p> + <p> + “If we needed it, we've received it,” Abby ejaculated, as she pushed her + darning-ball into the foot of a stocking. “Nothing has happened since I + came here thirty years ago that has troubled me like the running away of + Nathan and Hetty. If they had been new converts, we should have thought + the good seed had n't got fairly rooted, but those children were brought + to us when Nathan was eleven and Hetty nine.” + </p> + <p> + “I well remember, for the boy's father and the girl's mother came on the + same train; a most unusual occurrence to receive two children in one day.” + </p> + <p> + “I have cause to remember Hetty in her first month, for she was as wild as + a young hawk. She laughed in meeting the first Sunclay, and when she came + back, I told her to sit behind me in silence for half an hour while I was + reading my Bible. 'Be still now, Hetty, and labor to repent,' I said. When + the time was up, she said in a meek little mite of a voice, 'I think I'm + least in the Kingdom now, Eldress Abby!' 'Then run outdoors,' I said. She + kicked up her heels like a colt and was through the door in a second. Not + long afterwards I put my hands behind me to tie my apron tighter, and if + that child had n't taken my small scissors lying on the table and cut + buttonholes all up and down my strings, hundreds of them, while she was + 'laboring to repent.'” + </p> + <p> + Elder Gray smiled reminiscently, though he had often heard the story + before. “Neither of the children came from godly families,” he said, “but + at least the parents never interfered with us nor came here putting false + ideas into their children's heads.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I say,” continued Abby; “and now, after ten years' training + and discipline in the angelic life, Hetty being especially promising, to + think of their going away together, and worse yet, being married in Albion + village right at our very doors; I don't hardly dare to go to bed nights + for fear of hearing in the morning that some of the other young folks have + been led astray by this foolish performance of Hetty's; I know it was + Hetty's fault; Nathan never had ingenuity enough to think and plan it all + out.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, nay, Abby, don't be too hard on the girl; I've watched Nathan + closely, and he has been in a dangerous and unstable state, even as long + ago as his last confession; but this piece of backsliding, grievous as it + is, does n't cause me as much sorrow as the fall of Brother Ephraim. To + all appearance he had conquered his appetite, and for five years he has + led a sober life. I had even great hopes of him for the ministry, and + suddenly, like a great cloud in the blue sky, has come this terrible + visitation, this reappearance of the old Adam. 'Ephraim has returned to + his idols.'” + </p> + <p> + “How have you decided to deal with him, Daniel?” + </p> + <p> + “It is his first offense since he cast in his lot with us; we must rebuke, + chastise, and forgive.” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, yee, I agree to that; but how if he makes us the laughing-stock of + the community and drags our sacred banner in the dust? We can't afford to + have one of our order picked up in the streets by the world's people.” + </p> + <p> + “Have the world's people found an infallible way to keep those of their + order out of the gutters?” asked Elder Gray. “Ephraim seems repentant; if + he is willing to try again, we must be willing to do as much.” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, Daniel, you are right. Another matter that causes me anxiety is + Susanna. I never yearned for a soul as I yearn for hers! She has had the + advantage of more education and more reading than most of us have ever + enjoyed; she's gifted in teaching and she wins the children. She's + discreet and spiritually minded; her life in the world, even with the + influence of her dissipated husband, has n't really stained, only humbled + her; she would make such a Shaker, if she was once 'convinced,' as we have + n't gathered in for years and years; but I fear she's slipping, slipping + away, Daniel!” + </p> + <p> + “What makes you feel so now, particularly?” + </p> + <p> + “She's diff'rent as time goes on. She's had more letters from that place + where her boy is; she cries nights, and though she does n't relax a mite + with her work, she drags about sometimes like a bird with one wing.” + </p> + <p> + Elder Daniel took off his broadbrimmed hat to cool his forehead and hair, + lifting his eyes to the first pale stars that were trembling in the sky, + hesitating in silver and then quietly deepening into gold. + </p> + <p> + Brother Ansel was a Believer because he had no particular love for the + world and no great susceptibility to its temptations; but what had drawn + Daniel Gray from the open sea into this quiet little backwater of a Shaker + Settlement? After an adventurous early life, in which, as if + youth-intoxicated, he had plunged from danger to danger, experience to + experience, he suddenly found himself in a society of which he had never + so much as heard, a company of celibate brothers and sisters holding all + goods and possessions in common, and trying to live the “angelic life” on + earth. Illness detained him for a month against his will, but at the end + of that time he had joined the Community; and although it had been + twenty-five years since his gathering in, he was still steadfast in the + faith. + </p> + <p> + His character was of puritanical sternness; he was a strict + disciplinarian, and insisted upon obedience to the rules of Shaker life, + “the sacred laws of Zion,” as he was wont to term them. He magnified his + office, yet he was of a kindly disposition easily approached by children, + and not without a quaint old-time humor. + </p> + <p> + There was a long pause while the two faithful leaders of the little flock + were absorbed in thought; then the Elder said: “Susanna's all you say, and + the child, well, if she could be purged of her dross, I never saw a + creature better fitted to live the celestial life; but we must not harbor + any divided hearts here. When the time comes, we must dismiss her with our + blessing.” + </p> + <p> + “Yee, I suppose so,” said Eldress Abby, loyally, but it was with a sigh. + Had she and Tabitha been left to their own instincts, they would have gone + out into the highways and hedges, proselyting with the fervor of Mother + Ann's day and generation. + </p> + <p> + “After all, Abby,” said the Elder, rising to take his leave, still in a + sort of mild trance, “after all, Abby, I suppose the Shakers don't own the + whole of heaven. I'd like to think so, but I can't. It's a big place, and + it belongs to God.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0035" id="link2H_4_0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + IX. Love Manifold + </h2> + <p> + The woods on the shores of Massabesic Pond were stretches of tapestry, + where every shade of green and gold, olive and brown, orange and scarlet, + melted the one into the other. The somber pines made a deep-toned + background; patches of sumach gave their flaming crimson; the goldenrod + grew rank and tall in glorious profusion, and the maples outside the + Office Building were balls of brilliant carmine. The air was like crystal, + and the landscape might have been bathed in liquid amber, it was so + saturated with October yellow. + </p> + <p> + Susanna caught her breath as she threw her chamber window wider open in + the early morning; for the greater part of the picture had been painted + during the frosty night. + </p> + <p> + “Throw your little cape round your shoulders and come quickly, Sue!” she + exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + The child ran to her side. “Oh, what a goldy, goldy morning!” she cried. + </p> + <p> + One crimson leaf with a long heavy stem that acted as a sort of rudder, + came down to the windowsill with a sidelong scooping flight, while two or + three gayly painted ones, parted from the tree by the same breeze, floated + airily along as if borne on unseen wings, finally alighting on Sue's head + and shoulders like tropical birds. + </p> + <p> + “You cried in the night, Mardie!” said Sue. “I heard you snifferling and + getting up for your hank'chief; but I did n't speak 'cause it's so + dreadful to be <i>catched</i> crying.” + </p> + <p> + “Kneel down beside me and give me part of your cape,” her mother answered. + “I'm going to let my sad heart fly right out of the window into those + beautiful trees.” + </p> + <p> + “And maybe a glad heart will fly right in!” the child suggested. + </p> + <p> + “Maybe. Oh! we must cuddle close and be still; Elder Gray's going to sit + down under the great maple; and do you see, all the Brothers seem to be up + early this morning, just as we are?” + </p> + <p> + “More love, Elder Gray!” called Issachar, on his way to the toolhouse. + </p> + <p> + “More love, Brother Issachar!” + </p> + <p> + “More love, Brother Ansel!” + </p> + <p> + “More love, Brother Calvin!” + </p> + <p> + “More love!.... More love!.... More love!” So the quaint but not uncommon + Shaker greeting passed from Brother to Brother; and as Tabitha and Martha + and Rosetta met on their way to dairy and laundry and seed-house, they, + too, hearing the salutation, took up the refrain, and Susanna and Sue + heard again from the women's voices that beautiful morning wish, “More + love! More love!” speeding from heart to heart and lip to lip. + </p> + <p> + Mother and child were very quiet. + </p> + <p> + “More love, Sue!” said Susanna, clasping her closely. + </p> + <p> + “More love, Mardie!” whispered the child, smiling and entering into the + spirit of the salutation. “Let's turn our heads Farnham way! I'll take + Jack and you take Fardie, and we'll say togedder, 'More love'; shall we?” + </p> + <p> + “More love, John.” + </p> + <p> + “More love, Jack.” + </p> + <p> + The words floated out over the trees in the woman's trembling voice and + the child's treble. + </p> + <p> + “Elder Gray looks tired though he's just got up,” Sue continued. + </p> + <p> + “He is not strong,” replied her mother, remembering Brother Ansel's + statement that the Elder “wa'n't diseased anywheres, but did n't have no + durability.” + </p> + <p> + “The Elder would have a lovely lap,” Sue remarked presently. + </p> + <p> + “<i>What</i>?” + </p> + <p> + “A nice lap to sit in. Fardie has a nice lap, too, and Uncle Joel + Atterbury, but not Aunt Louisa; she lets you slide right off; it's a bony, + hard lap. I love Elder Gray, and I climbed on his lap one day. He put me + right down, but I'm sure he likes children. I wish I could take right hold + of his hand and walk all over the farm, but he would n't let me, I s'pose.— + <i>More love, Elder Gray</i>!” she cried suddenly, bobbing up above the + windowsill and shaking her fairy hand at him. + </p> + <p> + The Elder looked up at the sound of the glad voice. No human creature + could have failed to smile back into the roguish face or have treated + churlishly the sweet, confident little greeting. The heart of a real man + must have an occasional throb of the father, and when Daniel Gray rose + from his seat under the maple and called, “More love, child!” there was + something strange and touching in his tone. He moved away from the tree to + his morning labors with the consciousness of something new to conquer. + Long, long ago he had risen victorious above many of the temptations that + flesh is heir to. Women were his good friends, his comrades, his sisters; + they no longer troubled the waters of his soul; but here was a child who + stirred the depths; who awakened the potential father in him so suddenly + and so strongly that he longed for the sweetness of a human tie that could + bind him to her. But the current of the Elder's being was set towards + sacrifice and holiness, and the common joys of human life he felt could + never and must never be his; so he went to the daily round, the common + task, only a little paler, a little soberer than was his wont. + </p> + <p> + “More love, Martha!” said Susanna when she met Martha a little later in + the day. + </p> + <p> + “More love, Susanna!” Martha replied cheerily. “You heard our Shaker + greeting, I see! It was the beautiful weather, the fine air and glorious + colors, that brought the inspiration this morning, I guess! It took us all + out of doors, and then it seemed to get into the blood. Besides, + tomorrow's the Day of Sacrifice, and that takes us all on to the + mountaintops of feeling. There have been times when I had to own up to a + lack of love.” + </p> + <p> + “You, Martha, who have such wonderful influence over the children, such + patience, such affection!” + </p> + <p> + “It was n't always so. When I was first put in charge of the children, I + did n't like the work. They did n't respond to me somehow, and when they + were out of my sight they were ugly and disobedient. My natural mother, + Maria Holmes, took care of the girls' clothing. One day she said to me, + 'Martha, do you love the girls?' + </p> + <p> + “'Some of them are very unlovely,' I replied. + </p> + <p> + “'I know that,' she said, 'but you can never help them unless you love + them.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought mother very critical, for I strove scrupulously to do my duty. + A few days after this the Elder said to me: 'Martha, do you love the + girls?' I responded, 'Not very much.' + </p> + <p> + “'You cannot save them unless you love them,' he said. Then I answered, 'I + will labor for a gift of love.' + </p> + <p> + “When the work of the day was over, and the girls were in bed, I would + take off my shoes and spend several hours of the night walking the floor, + kneeling in prayer that I might obtain the coveted gift. For five weeks I + did this without avail, when suddenly one night when the moon was full and + I was kneeling by the window, a glory seemed to overshadow the crest of a + high mountain in the distance. I thought I heard a voice say: '<i>Martha, + I baptize you into the spirit of love!</i>' I sat there trembling for more + than an hour, and when I rose, I felt that I could love the meanest human + being that ever walked the earth. I have never had any trouble with + children since that night of the vision. They seem different to me, and I + dare say I am different to them.” + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could see visions!” exclaimed Susanna. “Oh, for a glory that + would speak to me and teach me truth and duty! Life is all mist, whichever + way I turn. I'd like to be lifted on to a high place where I could see + clearly.” + </p> + <p> + She leaned against the frame of the open kitchen door, her delicate face + quivering with emotion and longing, her attitude simplicity and + unconsciousness itself. The baldest of Shaker prose turned to purest + poetry when Susanna dipped it in the alembic of her own imagination. + </p> + <p> + “Labor for the gift of sight!” said Martha, who believed implicitly in + spirits and visions. “Labor this very night.” + </p> + <p> + It must be said for Susanna that she had never ceased laboring in her own + way for many days. The truth was that she felt herself turning from + marriage. She had lived now so long in the society of men and women who + regarded it as an institution not compatible with the highest spiritual + development that unconsciously her point of view had changed; changed all + the more because she had been so unhappy with the man she had chosen. + Curiously enough, and unfortunately enough for Susanna Hathaway's peace of + mind, the greater aversion she felt towards the burden of the old life, + towards the irksomeness of guiding a weaker soul, towards the claims of + husband on wife, the stronger those claims appeared. If they had never + been assumed!—Ah, but they had; there was the rub! One sight of + little Sue sleeping tranquilly beside her; one memory of rebellious, + faulty Jack; one vision of John, either as needing or missing her, the + rightful woman, or falling deeper in the wiles of the wrong one for very + helplessness;—any of these changed Susanna the would-be saint, in an + instant, into Susanna the wife and mother. + </p> + <p> + “<i>Speak to me for Thy Compassion's sake</i>,” she prayed from the little + book of Confessions that her mother had given her. “<i>I will follow after + Thy Voice!</i>” + </p> + <p> + “Would you betray your trust?” asked conscience. + </p> + <p> + “No, not intentionally.” + </p> + <p> + “Would you desert your post?” + </p> + <p> + “Never, willingly.” + </p> + <p> + “You have divided the family; taken a little quail bird out of the + home-nest and left sorrow behind you. Would God justify you in that?” + </p> + <p> + For the first time Susanna's “No” rang clearly enough for her to hear it + plainly; for the first time it was followed by no vague misgivings, no + bewilderment, no unrest or indecision. “<i>I turn hither and hither; Thy + purposes are hid from me, but I commend my soul to Thee</i>!” + </p> + <p> + Then a sentence from the dear old book came into her memory: “<i>And thy + dead things shall revive, and thy weak things shall be made whole</i>.” + </p> + <p> + She listened, laying hold of every word, till the nervous clenching of her + hands subsided, her face relaxed into peace. Then she lay down beside Sue, + creeping close to her for the warmth and comfort and healing of her + innocent touch, and, closing her eyes serenely, knew no more till the + morning broke, the Sabbath morning of Confession Day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0036" id="link2H_4_0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + X. Brother and Sister + </h2> + <p> + If Susanna's path had grown more difficult, more filled with anxieties, so + had John Hathaway's. The protracted absence of his wife made the gossips + conclude that the break was a final one. Jack was only half contented with + his aunt, and would be fairly mutinous in the winter, while Louisa's + general attitude was such as to show clearly that she only kept the boy + for Susanna's sake. + </p> + <p> + Now and then there was a terrifying hint of winter in the air, and the + days of Susanna's absence seemed eternal to John Hathaway. Yet he was a + man about whom there would have been but one opinion: that when deprived + of a rather superior and high-minded wife and the steadying influence of + home and children, he would go completely “to the dogs,” whither he seemed + to be hurrying when Susanna's wifely courage failed. That he had done + precisely the opposite and the unexpected thing, shows us perhaps that men + are not on the whole as capable of estimating the forces of their fellow + men as is God the maker of men, who probably expects something of the + worst of them up to the very last. + </p> + <p> + It was at the end of a hopeless Sunday when John took his boy back to his + aunt's towards night. He wondered drearily how a woman dealt with a + ten-year-old boy who from sunrise to sunset had done every mortal thing he + ought not to have done, and had left undone everything that he had been + told to do; and, as if to carry out the very words of the church service, + neither was there any health in him; for he had an inflamed throat and a + whining, irritable, discontented temper that could be borne only by a + mother, a father being wholly inadequate and apparently never destined for + the purpose. + </p> + <p> + It was a mild evening late in October, and Louisa sat on the porch with + her pepper-and-salt shawl on and a black wool “rigolette” tied over her + head. Jack, very sulky and unresigned, was dispatched to bed under the + care of the one servant, who was provided with a cupful of vinegar, salt, + and water, for a gargle. John had more than an hour to wait for a + returning train to Farnham, and although ordinarily he would have + preferred to spend the time in the silent and unreproachful cemetery + rather than in the society of his sister Louisa, he was too tired and + hopeless to do anything but sit on the steps and smoke fitfully in the + semidarkness. Louisa was much as usual. She well knew—who better?—her + brother's changed course of life, but neither encouragement nor compliment + were in her line. Why should a man be praised for living a respectable + life? That John had really turned a sort of moral somersault and come up a + different creature, she did not realize in the least, nor the difficulties + surmounted in such a feat; but she did give him credit secretly for + turning about face and behaving far more decently than she could ever have + believed possible. She had no conception of his mental torture at the + time, but if he kept on doing well, she privately intended to inform + Susanna and at least give her a chance of trying him again, if absence had + diminished her sense of injury. One thing that she did not know was that + John was on the eve of losing his partnership. When Jack had said that his + father was not going back to the store the next week, she thought it meant + simply a vacation. Divided hearts, broken vows, ruined lives she could + bear the sight of these with considerable philosophy, but a lost income + was a very different, a very tangible thing. She almost lost her breath + when her brother knocked the ashes from his meerschaum and curtly told her + of the proposed change in his business relations. + </p> + <p> + “I don't know what I shall do yet,” he said, “whether I shall set up for + myself in a small way or take a position in another concern,—that + is, if I can get one—my stock of popularity seems to be pretty low + just now in Farnham. I'd move away tomorrow and cut the whole gossipy, + deceitful, hypocritical lot of 'em if I was n't afraid of closing the + house and so losing Susanna, if she should ever feel like coming back to + us.” + </p> + <p> + These words and the thought back of them were too much for John's + self-control. The darkness helped him and his need of comfort was abject. + Suddenly he burst out, “Oh, Louisa, for heaven's sake, give me a little + crumb of comfort, if you have any! How can you stand like a stone all + these months and see a man suffering as I have suffered, without giving + him a word?” + </p> + <p> + “You brought it on yourself,” said Louisa, in self-exculpation. + </p> + <p> + “Does that make it any easier to bear?” cried John. “Don't you suppose I + remember it every hour, and curse myself the more? You know perfectly well + that I'm a different man today. I don't know what made me change; it was + as if something had been injected into my blood that turned me against + everything I had liked best before. I hate the sight of the men and the + women I used to go with, not because they are any worse, but because they + remind me of what I have lost. I have reached the point now where I have + got to have news of Susanna or go and shoot myself.” + </p> + <p> + “That would be about the only piece of foolishness you have n't committed + already!” replied Louisa, with a biting satire that would have made any + man let go of the trigger in case he had gone so far as to begin pulling + it. + </p> + <p> + “Where is she?” John went on, without anger at her sarcasm. “Where is she, + how is she, what is she living on, is she well, is she just as bitter as + she was at first, does she ever speak of coming back? Tell me something, + tell me anything. I will know something. I say I <i>will</i>!” + </p> + <p> + Louisa's calm demeanor began to show a little agitation, for she was not + used to the sight of emotion. “I can't tell you where Susanna is, for I + made her a solemn promise I would n't unless you or Jack were in danger of + some kind; but I don't mind telling you this much, that she's well and in + the safest kind of a shelter, for she's been living from the first in a + Shaker Settlement.” + </p> + <p> + “Shaker Settlement!” cried John, starting up from his seat on the steps. + “What's that? I know Shaker egg-beaters and garden-seeds and + rocking-chairs and oh, yes, I remember their religion's against marriage. + That's the worst thing you could have told me; that ends all hope; if they + once get hold of a woman like Susanna, they'll never let go of her; if + they don't believe in a woman's marrying a good man, they'd never let her + go back to a bad one. Oh, if I had only known this before; if only you'd + told me, Louisa, perhaps I could have done something. Maybe they take vows + or sign contracts, and so I have lost her altogether.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know much about their beliefs, and Susanna never explained them,” + returned Louisa, nervously “but now that you've got something to offer + her, why don't you write and ask her to come back to you? I'll send your + letter to her.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't dare, Louisa, I don't dare,” groaned John, leaning his head + against one of the pillars of the porch. “I can't tell you the fear I have + of Susanna after the way I've neglected her this last year. If she should + come in at the gate this minute, I could n't meet her eyes; if you'd read + the letter she left me, you'd feel the same way. I deserved it, to the + last word, but oh, it was like so many separate strokes of lightning, and + every one of them burned. It was nothing but the truth, but it was cut in + with a sharp sword. Unless she should come back to me of her own accord, + and she never will, I have n't got the courage to ask her; just have n't + got the courage, that's all there is to say about it.” And here John + buried his head in his hands. + </p> + <p> + A very queer thing happened to Louisa Banks at this moment. A half-second + before she would have murmured: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “This rock shall fly From its firm base as soon as I!” + </pre> + <p> + when all at once, and without warning, a strange something occurred in the + organ which she had always regarded and her opinion had never yet been + questioned as a good, tough, love-tight heart. First there was a flutter + and a tremor running all along her spine; then her eyes filled; then a + lump rose in her throat and choked her; then words trembled on her tongue + and refused to be uttered; then something like a bird—could it have + been the highly respectable good-as-new heart?—throbbed under her + black silk Sunday waist; then she grew like wax from the crown of her head + to the soles of her feet; then in a twinkling, and so unconsciously as to + be unashamed of it, she became a sister. + </p> + <p> + You have seen a gray November morning melt into an Indian summer noon? + Louisa Banks was like that, when, at the sight of a man in sore trouble, + sympathy was born in her to soften the rockiness of her original makeup. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, John, don't be so downhearted,” she stammered, drawing her + chair closer and putting her hand on his shoulder. “We'll bring it round + right, you see if we don't. You've done the most yourself already, for I'm + proud of the way you've acted, stiffening right up like an honest man and + showing you've got some good sensible Hathaway stuff in you, after all, + and ain't ashamed to turn your back on your evil ways. Susanna ain't one + to refuse forgiveness.” + </p> + <p> + “She forgave for a long time, but she refused at last. Why should she + change now?” John asked. + </p> + <p> + “You remember she has n't heard a single word from you, nor about you, in + that out-of-the-way place where she's been living,” said Louisa, + consolingly. “She thinks you're the same as you were, or worse, maybe. + Perhaps she's waiting for you to make some sign through me, for she don't + know that you care anything about her, or are pining to have her back.” + </p> + <p> + “Such a woman as Susanna must know better than that!” cried John. “She + ought to know that when a man got used to living with anybody like her, he + could never endure any other kind.” + </p> + <p> + “How should she know all that? Jack's been writing to her and telling her + the news for the last few weeks, though I have n't said a word about you + because I did n't know how long your reformation was going to hold out; + but I won't let the grass grow under my feet now, till I tell her just how + things stand!” + </p> + <p> + “You're a good woman, Louisa; I don't see why I never noticed it before.” + </p> + <p> + “It's because I've been concealing my goodness too much. Stay here with me + tonight and don't go back to brood in that dismal, forsaken house. We'll + see how Jack is in the morning, and if he's all right, take him along with + you, so's to be all there together if Susanna comes back this week, as I + kind of hope she will. Make Ellen have the house all nice and cheerful + from top to bottom, with a good supper ready to put on the table the night + she comes. You'd better pick your asters and take 'em in for the parlor, + then I'll cut the chrysanthemums for you in the middle of the week. The + day she comes I'll happen in, and stay to dinner if you find it's going to + be mortifying for you; but if everything is as I expect it will be, and + the way Susanna always did have things, I'll make for home and leave you + to yourselves. Susanna ain't one to nag and hector and triumph over a man + when he's repented.” + </p> + <p> + John hugged Louisa, pepper-and-salt shawl, black rigolette, and all, when + she finished this unprecedented speech; and when he went to sleep that + night in the old north chamber, the one he and Louisa had been born in, + the one his father and mother had died in, it was with a little smile of + hope on his lips. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Set her place at hearth and board + As it used to be! +</pre> + <p> + These were the last words that crossed his waking thoughts. Before Louisa + went to her own bed, she wrote one of her brief and characteristic + epistles to Susanna, but it did not reach her, for the “hills of home” had + called John's wife so insistently on that Sunday, that the next day found + her on her way back to Farnham. + </p> + <p> + Dear Susanna [so the letter read], There's a new man in your house at + Farnham. His name is John Hathaway, but he's made all over and it was high + time. I say it's the hand of God! He won't own up that it is, but I'm + letting him alone, for I've done quarreling, though I don't like to see a + man get religion and deny it, for all the world like Peter in the New + Testament. If you have n't used up the last one of your + seventy-times-sevens, I think you'd better come back and forgive your + husband. If you don't, you'd better send for your son. I'm willing to bear + the burdens the Lord intends specially for me, but Jack belongs to you, + and a good-sized heavy burden he is, too, for his age. I can't deny that, + if he is a Hathaway. I think he's the kind of a boy that ought to be put + in a barrel and fed through the bunghole till he grows up; but of course + I'm not used to children's ways. + </p> + <p> + Be as easy with John at first as you can. I know you 'll say <i>I</i> + never was with my husband, but he was different, he got to like a bracing + treatment, Adlai did. Many's the time he said to me, “Louisa, when you + make up our minds, I'm always contented.” But John is n't made that way. + He's a changed man; now, what we've got to do is to <i>keep</i> him + changed. He does n't bear you any grudge for leaving him, so he won't + reproach you. + </p> + <p> + Hoping to see you before long, I am, + </p> + <p> + Yours as usual, + </p> + <p> + Louisa Banks. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0037" id="link2H_4_0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XI. “The Open Door” + </h2> + <p> + On the Saturday evening before the yearly Day of Sacrifice the spiritual + heads of each Shaker family called upon all the Believers to enter + heartily next day into the humiliations and blessings of open confession. + </p> + <p> + The Sabbath dawns upon an awed and solemn household. Footfalls are hushed, + the children's chatter is stilled, and all go to the morning meal in + silence. There is a strange quiet, but it is not sadness; it is a hush, as + when in Israel's camp the silver trumpets sounded and the people stayed in + their tents. “Then,” Elder Gray explained to Susanna, “a summons comes to + each Believer, for all have been searching the heart and scanning the life + of the months past. Softly the one called goes to the door of the one + appointed by the Divine Spirit, the human representative who is to receive + the gift of the burdened soul. Woman confesses to woman, man to man; it is + the open door that leads to God.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna lifted Eldress Abby's latch and stood in her strong, patient + presence; then all at once she knelt impulsively and looked up into her + serene eyes. + </p> + <p> + “Do you come as a Believer, Susanna?” tremblingly asked the Eldress. + </p> + <p> + “No, Eldress Abby. I come as a child of the world who wants to go back to + her duty, and hopes to do it better than she ever did before. She ought to + be able to, because you have chastened her pride, taught her the lesson of + patience, strengthened her will, purified her spirit, and cleansed her + soul from bitterness and wrath. I waited till afternoon when all the + confessions were over. May I speak now?” + </p> + <p> + Eldress Abby bowed, but she looked weak and stricken and old. + </p> + <p> + “I had something you would have called a vision last night, but I think of + it as a dream, and I know just what led to it. You told me Polly Reed's + story, and the little quail bird had such a charm for Sue that I've + repeated it to her more than once. In my sleep I seemed to see a mother + quail with a little one beside her. The two were always together, happily + flying or hopping about under the trees; but every now and then I heard a + sad little note, as of a deserted bird somewhere in the wood. I walked a + short distance, and parting the branches, saw on the open ground another + parent bird and a young one by its side darting hither and thither, as if + lost; they seemed to be restlessly searching for something, and always + they uttered the soft, sad note, as if the nest had disappeared and they + had been parted from the little flock. Of course my brain had changed the + very meaning of the Shaker story and translated it into different terms, + but when I woke this morning, I could think of nothing but my husband and + my boy. The two of them seemed to me to be needing me, searching for me in + the dangerous open country, while I was hidden away in the safe shelter of + the wood—I and the other little quail bird I had taken out of the + nest.” + </p> + <p> + “Do you think you could persuade your husband to unite with us?” asked + Abby, wiping her eyes. + </p> + <p> + The tension of the situation was too tightly drawn for mirth, or Susanna + could have smiled, but she answered soberly, “No; if John could develop + the best in himself, he could be a good husband and father, a good + neighbor and citizen, and an upright business man, but never a Shaker.” + </p> + <p> + “Did n't he insult your wifely honor and disgrace your home?” “Yes, in the + last few weeks before I left him. All his earlier offenses were more + against himself than me, in a sense. I forgave him many a time, but I am + not certain it was the seventy times seven that the Bible bids us. I am + not free from blame myself. I was hard the last year, for I had lost hope + and my pride was trailing in the dust. I left him a bitter letter, one + without any love or hope or faith in it, just because at the moment I + believed I ought, once in my life, to let him know how I felt toward him.” + </p> + <p> + “How can you go back and live under his roof with that feeling? It's + degradation.” + </p> + <p> + “It has changed. I was morbid then, and so wounded and weak that I could + not fight any longer. I am rested now, and calm. My pluck has come back, + and my strength. I've learned a good deal here about casting out my own + devils; now I am going home and help him to cast out his. Perhaps he won't + be there; perhaps he does n't want me, though when he was his very best + self he loved me dearly; but that was long, long ago!” sighed Susanna, + drearily. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, this thing the world's people call love!” groaned Abby. + </p> + <p> + “There is love and love, even in the world outside; for if it is Adam's + world it is God's, too, Abby! The love I gave my husband was good, I + think, but it failed somewhere, and I am going back to try again. I am not + any too happy in leaving you and taking up, perhaps, heavier burdens than + those from which I escaped.” + </p> + <p> + “Night after night I've prayed to be the means of leading you to the + celestial life,” said the Eldress, “but my plaint was not worthy to be + heard. Oh, that God would increase our numbers and so revive our drooping + faith! We work, we struggle, we sacrifice, we pray, we defy the world and + deny the flesh, yet we fail to gather in Believers.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't say you 've failed, dear, dear Abby!” cried Susanna, pressing the + Eldress's work-stained hands to her lips. “God speaks to you in one voice, + to me in another. Does it matter so much as long as we both hear Him? + Surely it's the hearing and the obeying that counts most! Wish me well, + dear friend, and help me to say goodbye to the Elder.” + </p> + <p> + The two women found Elder Gray in the office, and Abby, still unresigned, + laid Susanna's case before him. + </p> + <p> + “The Great Architect has need of many kinds of workmen in His building,” + said the Elder. “There are those who are willing to put aside the ties of + flesh for the kingdom of heaven's sake; 'he that is able to receive it, + let him receive it!'” + </p> + <p> + “There may also he those who are willing to take up the ties of the flesh + for the kingdom of heaven's sake,” answered Susanna, gently, but with a + certain courage. + </p> + <p> + Her face glowed with emotion, her eyes shone, her lips were parted. It was + a new thought. Abby and Daniel gazed at her for a moment without speaking, + then Daniel said: “It's a terrible cross to some of the Brethren and + Sisters to live here outside of the world, but maybe it's more of a cross + for such as you to live in it, under such conditions as have surrounded + you of late years. To pursue good and resist evil, to bear your cross + cheerfully and to grow in grace and knowledge of truth while you're + bearing it that's the lesson of life, I suppose. If you find you can't + learn it outside, come back to us, Susanna.” + </p> + <p> + “I will,” she promised, “and no words can speak my gratitude for what you + have all done for me. Many a time it will come back to me and keep me from + faltering.” + </p> + <p> + She looked back at him from the open doorway, timidly. + </p> + <p> + “Don't forget us, Sue and me, altogether,” she said, her eyes filling with + tears. “Come to Farnham, if you will, and see if I am a credit to Shaker + teaching! I shall never be here again, perhaps, and somehow it seems to me + as if you, Elder Gray, with your education and your gifts, ought to be + leading a larger life than this.” + </p> + <p> + “I've hunted in the wild Maine forests, in my young days; I've speared + salmon in her rivers and shot rapids ill a birchbark canoe,” said the + Elder, looking up from the pine table that served as a desk. “I've been + before the mast and seen strange countries; I've fought Indians; I've + faced perils on land and sea; but this Shaker life is the greatest + adventure of all!” + </p> + <p> + “Adventure?” echoed Susanna, uncomprehendingly. + </p> + <p> + “Adventure!” repeated the Elder, smiling at his own thoughts. “Whether I + fail, or whether I succeed, it's a splendid adventure in ethics.” + </p> + <p> + Abby and Daniel looked at each other when Susanna passed out of the office + door. + </p> + <p> + “'They went out from us, but they were not of us; for if they had been of + us, they would have continued with us,'” he quoted quietly. + </p> + <p> + Abby wiped her eyes with her apron. “It's a hard road to travel sometimes, + Daniel!” she said. + </p> + <p> + “Yee; but think where it leads, Abby, think where it leads! You're not + going to complain of dust when you're treading the King's Highway!” + </p> + <p> + Susanna left the office with a drooping head, knowing the sadness that she + had left behind. Brother Ansel sat under the trees near by, and his shrewd + eye perceived the drift of coming events. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Susanna,” he drawled, “you're goin' to leave us, like most o' the + other 'jiners.' I can see that with one eye shut.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” she replied with a half smile; “but you see, Ansel, I 'jined' John + Hathaway before I knew anything about Shaker doctrines.” + </p> + <p> + “Yee; but what's to prevent your onjinin' him? They used to tie up married + folks in the old times so't they could n't move an inch. When they read + the constitution and bylaws over 'em they used to put in 'till death do us + part.' That's the way my father was hitched to his three wives, but death + <i>did</i> 'em part—fortunately for him!” + </p> + <p> + “'Till death us do part' is still in the marriage service,” Susanna said, + “and I think of it very often.” + </p> + <p> + “I want to know if that's there yit!” exclaimed Ansel, with apparent + surprise; “I thought they must be leavin' it out, there's so much onjinin' + nowadays! Well, accordin' to my notions, if there is anything wuss 'n + marriage, it's hevin' it hold till death, for then menfolks don't git any + chance of a speritual life till afterwards. They certainly don't when + they're being dragged down by women-folks an' young ones.” + </p> + <p> + “I think the lasting part of the bargain makes it all the more solemn,” + Susanna argued. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, yes, it's solemn enough, but so's a prayer meetin', an' consid'able + more elevatin' “; and here Ansel regarded the surrounding scenery with + frowning disapproval, as if it left much to be desired. + </p> + <p> + “Don't you think that there are any agreeable and pleasant women, Ansel?” + ventured Susanna. + </p> + <p> + “Land, yes; heaps of 'em; but they all wear Shaker bunnits!” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose you know more about the women in the outside world than most of + the Brothers, on account of traveling so much?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess anybody 't drives a seed-cart or peddles stuff along the road + knows enough o' women to keep clear of 'em. They 'll come out the kitchen + door, choose their papers o' seasonin' an' bottles o' flavorin', worry you + 'bout the price an' take the aidge off every dime, make up an' then onmake + their minds 'bout what they want, ask if it's pure, an' when by good luck + you git your cart out o' the yard, they come runnin' along the road after + ye to git ye to swap a bottle o' vanilla for some spruce gum an' give 'em + back the change.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna could not help smiling at Ansel's arraignment of her sex. “Do you + think they follow you for the pleasure of shopping, or the pleasure of + your conversation, Ansel?” she asked slyly. + </p> + <p> + “A little o' both, mebbe; though the pleasure's all on their side,” + returned the unchivalrous Ansel. “But take them same women, cut their hair + close to their heads (there's a heap o' foolishness in hair, somehow), + purge 'em o' their vanity, so they won't be lookin' in the glass all the + time, make 'em depend on one another for sassiety, so they won't crave no + conversation with menfolks, an' you git an article that's 'bout as good + and 'bout as stiddy as a man!” + </p> + <p> + “You never seem to remember that men are just as dangerous to women's + happiness and goodness as women are to men's,” said Susanna, courageously. + </p> + <p> + “It don't seem so to me! Never see a man, hardly, that could stick to the + straight an' narrer if a woman wanted him to go the other way. Weak an' + unstable as water, menfolks are, an' women are pow'ful strong.” + </p> + <p> + “Have your own way, Ansel! I'm going back to the world, but no man shall + ever say I hindered him from being good. You'll see women clearer in + another world.” + </p> + <p> + “There'll be precious few of 'em to see!” retorted Ansel. “You're about + the best o' the lot, but even you have a kind of a managin' way with ye, + besides fillin' us all full o' false hopes that we'd gathered in a useful + Believer, one cal'lated to spread the doctrines o' Mother Ann!” + </p> + <p> + “I know, I know, Ansel, and oh, how sorry I am! You would never believe + how I long to stay and help you, never believe how much you have helped + me! Goodbye, Ansel; you've made me smile when my heart was breaking. I + shan't forget you!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + XII. The Hills of Home + </h2> + <p> + Susanna had found Sue in the upper chamber at the Office Building, and + began to make the simple preparations for her homeward journey. It was the + very hour when John Hathaway was saying:— + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Set her place at hearth and board + As it used to be.” + </pre> + <p> + Sue interfered with the packing somewhat by darting to and fro, bringing + her mother sacred souvenirs given her by the Shaker sisters and the + children—needle-books, pin-balls, thimble-cases, packets of + flower-seeds, polished pebbles, bottles of flavoring extract. + </p> + <p> + “This is for Fardie,” she would say, “and this for Jack and this for Ellen + and this for Aunt Louisa—the needle-book, 'cause she's so useful. + Oh, I'm glad we're going home, Mardie, though I do love it here, and I was + most ready to be a truly Shaker. It's kind of pityish to have your hair + shingled and your stocking half-knitted and know how to say 'yee' and then + have it all wasted.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna dropped a tear on the dress she was folding. The child was going + home, as she had come away from it, gay, irresponsible, and merry; it was + only the mothers who hoped and feared and dreaded. The very universe was + working toward Susanna's desire at that moment, but she was all unaware of + the happiness that lay so near. She could not see the freshness of the + house in Farnham, the new bits of furniture here and there; the autumn + leaves in her own bedroom; her worktable full of the records of John's + sorrowful summer; Jack handsomer and taller, and softer, also, in his + welcoming mood; Ellen rosy and excited. She did not know that Joel + Atterbury had said to John that day, “I take it all back, old man, and I + hope you'll stay on in the firm!” nor that Aunt Louisa, who was putting + stiff, short-stemmed chrysanthemums in cups and tumblers here and there + through the house, was much more flexible and human than was natural to + her; nor that John, alternating between hope and despair, was forever + humming: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Set her place at hearth and board + As it used to be: + Higher are the hills of home, + Bluer is the sea!” + </pre> + <p> + It is often so. They who go weeping to look for the dead body of a sorrow, + find a vision of angels where the body has lain. + </p> + <p> + “I hope Fardie 'll be glad to see us and Ellen will have gingerbread,” Sue + chattered; then, pausing at the window, she added, “I'm sorry to leave the + hills, 'cause I 'specially like them, don't you, Mardie?” + </p> + <p> + “We are leaving the Shaker hills, but we are going to the hills of home,” + her mother answered cheerily. “Don't you remember the Farnham hills, + dear?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I remember,” and Sue looked thoughtful; “they were farther off and + covered with woods; these are smooth and gentle. And we shall miss the + lake, Mardie.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but we can look at the blue sea from your bedroom window, Sue!” + </p> + <p> + “And we'll tell Fardie about Polly Reed and the little quail bird, won't + we?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; but he and Jack will have a great deal to say to us, and we must n't + talk all the time about the dear, kind Shakers, you know!” + </p> + <p> + “You're all '<i>buts</i>,' Mardie!” at which Susanna smiled through her + tears. + </p> + <p> + Twilight deepened into dusk, and dusk into dark, and then the moon rose + over the poplar trees outside the window where Susanna and Sue were + sleeping. The Shaker Brethren and Sisters were resting serenely after + their day of confession. It was the aged Tabitha's last Sabbath on earth, + but had she known, it would have made no difference; if ever a soul was + ready for heaven, it was Tabitha's. + </p> + <p> + There was an Irish family at the foot of the long hill that lay between + the Settlement and the village of Albion; father, mother, and children had + prayed to the Virgin before they went to bed; and the gray-haired minister + in the low-roofed parsonage was writing his communion sermon on a text + sacred to the orthodox Christian world. The same moon shone over all, and + over millions of others worshiping strange idols and holding strange + beliefs in strange far lands, yet none of them owned the whole of heaven; + for as Elder Gray said, “It is a big place and belongs to God.” + </p> + <p> + Susanna Hathaway went back to John thinking it her plain duty, and to me + it seems beautiful that she found waiting for her at the journey's end a + new love that was better than the old; found a husband to whom she could + say in that first sacred hour when they were alone together, “Never mind, + John! Let's forget, and begin all over again.” + </p> + <p> + When Susanna and Sue alighted at the little railway station at Farnham, + and started to walk through the narrow streets that led to the suburbs, + the mother's heart beat more and more tumultuously as she realized that + the issues of four lives would be settled before nightfall. + </p> + <p> + Little did Sue reck of life issues, skipping like a young roe from one + side of the road to the other. “There are the hills, not a bit changed, + Mardie!” she cried; “and the sea is just where it was!... Here's the house + with the parrot, do you remember? Now the place where the dog barks and + snarls is coming next... P'raps he'll be dead.., or p'raps he'll be + nicer... Keep close to me till we get past the gate... He did n't come + out, so p'raps he is dead or gone a-visiting.... There's that 'specially + lazy cow that's always lying down in the Buxtons' field.... I don't + b'lieve she's moved since we came away.... Do you s'pose she stands up to + be milked, Mardie? There's the old bridge over the brook, just the same, + only the woodbine's red.... There's... There's... Oh, Mardie, look, + look!... I do b'lieve it's our Jacky!” + </p> + <p> + Sue flew over the ground like a swallow, calling “Jack-y! Jack-y! It's me + and Mardie come home!” + </p> + <p> + Jack extricated himself from his sister's strangling hug and settled his + collar. “I'm awful glad to see you, Sukey,” he said, “but I'm getting too + big to be kissed. Besides, my pockets are full of angleworms and + fishhooks.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you too big to be kissed even by mother?” called Susanna, hurrying to + her boy, who submitted to her embrace with better grace. “O Jack, Jack! + say you're glad to see mother! Say it, say it; I can't wait, Jack!” + </p> + <p> + “'Course I'm glad! Why would n't I be? I tell you I'm tired of Aunt + Louisa, though she's easier than she was. Time and again I've packed my + lunch basket and started to run away, but I always made it a picnic and + went back again, thinking they'd make such a row over me.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Louisa is always kind when you're obedient,” Susanna urged, “She + ain't so stiff as she was. Ellen is real worried about her and thinks + she's losing her strength, she's so easy to get along with.” + </p> + <p> + “How's... father...?” + </p> + <p> + “Better'n he was.” + </p> + <p> + “Has n't he been well?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so very; always quiet and won't eat, nor play, nor anything. I'm home + with him since Sunday.” + </p> + <p> + “What is the matter with your clothes?” asked Susanna, casting a maternal + eye over him while she pulled him down here and up there, with anxious + disapproving glances. “You look so patched, and wrinkled, and grubby.” + </p> + <p> + “Aunt Louisa and father make me keep my best to put on for you, if you + should come. I clean up and dress every afternoon at train time, only I + forgot today and came fishing.” + </p> + <p> + “It's too cold to fish, sonny.” + </p> + <p> + “It ain't too cold to fish, but it's too cold for 'em to bite,” corrected + Jack. + </p> + <p> + “Why were you expecting us just now?” asked Susanna. “I did n't write + because... because, I thought... perhaps... it would be better to surprise + you.” + </p> + <p> + “Father's expecting you every day, not just this one,” said Jack. + </p> + <p> + Susanna sank down on a stone at the end of the bridge, and leaning her + head against the railing, burst into tears. In that moment the worst of + her fears rolled away from her heart like the stone from the mouth of a + sepulcher. If her husband had looked for her return, he must have missed + her, regretted her, needed her, just a little. His disposition was sweet, + even if it were thoughtless, and he might not meet her with reproaches + after all. There might not be the cold greeting she had often feared—“<i>Well, + you've concluded to come back, have you</i>? <i>It was about time</i>!” If + only John were a little penitent, a little anxious to meet her on some + common ground, she felt her task would be an easier one. + </p> + <p> + “Have you got a pain, Mardie?” cried Sue, anxiously bending over her + mother. + </p> + <p> + “No, dear,” she answered, smiling through her tears and stretching a hand + to both children to help her to her feet. “No, dear, I've lost one!” + </p> + <p> + “I cry when anything aches, not when it stops,” remarked Jack, as the + three started again on their walk. “Say, Sukey, you look bigger and fatter + than you did when you went away, and you've got short curls 'stead of long + ones. Do you see how I've grown? Two inches!” + </p> + <p> + “I'm inches and inches bigger and taller,” Sue boasted, standing on tiptoe + and stretching herself proudly. “And I can knit, and pull maple candy, and + say Yee, and sing 'O Virgin Church, how great thy light.'” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh,” said Jack, “I can sing 'A sailor's life's the life for me, Yo ho, + yo ho!' Step along faster, mummy dear; it's 'most supper time. Aunt Louisa + won't scold if you're with me. There's the house, see? Father 'll be + working in the garden covering up the asters, so they won't freeze before + you come.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no garden, Jack. What do you mean?” “Wait till you see if + there's no garden! Hurrah! there's father at the window, side of Aunt + Louisa. Won't he be pleased I met you halfway and brought you home!” + </p> + <p> + Oh! it was beautiful, the autumn twilight, the smoke of her own + hearth-side rising through the brick chimneys! She thought she had left + the way of peace behind her, but no, the way of peace was here, where her + duty was, and her husband and children. + </p> + <p> + The sea was deep blue; the home hills rolled softly along the horizon; the + little gate that Susanna had closed behind her in anger and misery stood + wide open; shrubs, borders, young hedgerows, beds of late autumn flowers + greeted her eyes and touched her heart. A foot sounded on the threshold; + the home door opened and smiled a greeting; and then a voice choked with + feeling, glad with welcome, called her name. + </p> + <p> + Light-footed Sue ran with a cry of joy into her father's outstretched + arms, and then leaping down darted to Ellen, chattering like a magpie. + Husband and wife looked at each other for one quivering moment, and then + clasped each other close. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive! O Susanna, forgive!” + </p> + <p> + John's eyes and lips and arms made mute appeals, and it was then Susanna + said, “Never mind, John! Let's forget, and begin all over again!” + </p> + <p> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Homespun Tales, by Kate Douglas Wiggin + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK HOMESPUN TALES *** + +***** This file should be named 3492-h.htm or 3492-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/3/4/9/3492/ + +Produced by A Elizabeth Warren, and David Widger + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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