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diff --git a/40176-0.txt b/40176-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..3c3d934 --- /dev/null +++ b/40176-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9593 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40176 *** + + [Illustration: Pippin ... breaks out into full-throated song: + + "Knives and scissors to grind, oh! + Have 'em done to your mind, oh!" + [PAGE 155]] + + + + + PIPPIN + _A WANDERING FLAME_ + + BY + LAURA E. RICHARDS + AUTHOR OF "FLORENCE NIGHTINGALE," "ELIZABETH FRY," ETC. + + [Illustration] + + FRONTISPIECE + + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + NEW YORK LONDON + 1917 + + + COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY + D. APPLETON AND COMPANY + + + Printed in the United States of America + + + + + TO PIPPIN + WHO WILL NEVER KNOW + + + + +CONTENTS + + + CHAPTER PAGE + + I. PIPPIN SAYS GOOD-BY 1 + + II. PIPPIN MAKES A FRIEND 15 + + III. PIPPIN FINDS A TRADE, "TEMP'RY" 29 + + IV. PIPPIN GOES TO CYRUS 42 + + V. CYRUS POOR FARM 62 + + VI. PIPPIN SINGS FOR HIS SUPPER 74 + + VII. FLORA MAY 96 + + VIII. PIPPIN SETS BREAD AND LAYS A PLAN 105 + + IX. PIPPIN ENCOUNTERS THE RED RUFFIAN 111 + + X. PIPPIN LOOKS FOR THE GRACE OF GOD 122 + + XI. THE CHAPLAIN READS HIS MAIL 132 + + XII. NIPPER 142 + + XIII. ENTER MARY-IN-THE-KITCHEN 150 + + XIV. PIPPIN LOOKS FOR OLD MAN BLOSSOM'S LITTLE + GAL 159 + + XV. PIPPIN MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE 172 + + XVI. PIPPIN ENCOUNTERS THE GIDEONS 185 + + XVII. THREE TETE-A-TETES 199 + + XVIII. PIPPIN KEEPS WATCH, WITH RESULTS 210 + + XIX. A KNOT IN THE THREAD 220 + + XX. THE PERPLEXITIES OF PIPPIN 234 + + XXI. MARY BLOSSOM 247 + + XXII. THE OLD MAN 261 + + XXIII. THE CHAPLAIN SPEAKS HIS MIND 272 + + XXIV. PRIMAL FORCES 281 + + XXV. PIPPIN OVERCOMES 290 + + XXVI. PIPPIN PRAISES THE LORD 297 + + + + +PIPPIN + + + + +PIPPIN + + + + +CHAPTER I + +PIPPIN SAYS GOOD-BY + + +The chaplain seemed to be waiting for some one. He was sitting in his +office, as usual at this hour of the morning the little bare office in a +corner of Shoreham State Prison, with its worn desk and stool, its chair +facing the window (what tales that chair could tell, if it had power of +speech!), its piles of reports and pamphlets, its bookshelf within arm's +reach of the desk. (Bible, Concordance, Shakespeare, the "Life of John +Howard," Pickwick, the "Golden Treasury"; these, thumbed and shabby, +jostled the latest works on prison reform and criminology. An expressive +bookshelf, as all bookshelves are.) + +One would not have picked out Lawrence Hadley for a prison chaplain; if +chaplain at all, he surely belonged in the army. Look, bearing, +voice--that clear ringing voice we remember so well--all bespoke the +soldier; and a soldier he was, not only because of his service in the +Philippines--he was in the army till his health broke down--but because +he was born one. + +As I said, he seemed to be waiting for some one. His eyes were watching +the yard, taking note of each figure that came and went, seeing that old +Pete was walking lame, that French Bill was drooping and poking his +head forward, a bad sign with him; that Mike was whistling, a good sign +always; but while his eyes looked, his ears listened; and now, when it +seemed that he had been listening a long time, came the familiar knock. + +"Ah!" The chaplain's chair, which had been tilted back on two legs for +meditation, came down on four for action. "Come in!" + +"Pippin, sir!" + +"Come in, Pippin! I was looking for you." + +A young man entered and closed the door behind him, making no sound. He +moved with an extraordinary grace and swiftness, like some wild +creature, yet there was no haste or hurry about him. At first glance, +the two men were of something the same build, both tall and square +shouldered, holding their chins well up and looking straight forward; +but there the resemblance ceased. The chaplain was sandy fair, with blue +eyes as kindly as they were piercing; the other was all brown: brown, +crisp, curling hair, brown skin, brown flashing eyes. The eyes were not +flashing now, though; they were as nearly dim as they could be, for +Pippin had been saying good-by, and now was come the hardest parting of +all. + +"Well, here I be, Elder!" he said. "I s'pose it's time I was off." + +"Yes!" said Mr. Hadley. "Yes, I suppose it is. Well, Pippin, we're going +to miss you here. The place won't be the same without you." + +Pippin made as if to speak, but the words did not come. + +"I just want you to know," the chaplain went on slowly, "what a help +you've been to me this past year, especially the past six months. I +don't know--I really do not know--how I shall get on without you, +Pippin!" + +Pippin cleared his throat and spoke huskily. + +"Elder," he said, "say the word and I'll stay! Honest I will. I'd be +proud, sir, if I could help you, any way, shape, or manner. I would so!" + +The chaplain laughed rather ruefully, and rose from his chair. "That +would never do!" he said. "No, no, Pippin, you mustn't think I'm not +just as glad to have you go as I am sorry to lose you. You'll be helping +outside instead of inside, that's all. We shall not let go of you +altogether. How about Sandy Colt, Pippin?" he asked with an abrupt +change of voice. "You've been with him a good deal this past month, I've +noticed. How about him?" + +Pippin considered a moment. + +"Sandy," he said, "is all right; or I think so, Elder. I've been round +with him, as you say. I kind o' thought mebbe you got him put on bindin' +with me?" + +The chaplain nodded. + +"I kind o' thought it squinted that way. Well, sir, that boy is about +ready to go on the straight; leastways he's sick to death of crooks and +their games, and that's the first step. I--kind o'--think--" the words +came more and more slowly--"it's about time to leave Sandy alone with +the money box, Elder." + +"What do you mean?" The chaplain looked up sharply; met a glance full of +meaning, and smiled. "So you knew, eh?" he said musingly. "I wondered if +you did, Pippin." + +"Know!" Pippin's eyes were shining now, and he spoke with suppressed +energy. "What would you think of it? Lemme tell you, Elder! I've wanted +to tell you ever since. I'd ben tryin'--tryin' hard. I'd found the +Lord--found Him for keeps, and I knowed it; but yet, along that summer, +after--that day, you know, sir--I couldn't seem to keep holt of Him +_stiddy_. Now wouldn't that give you a pain, sir? Honest, wasn't it +awful? But 'twas so!" + +"Not awful in the least, Pippin! Did you ever see a baby learning to +walk? He'll tumble down twice for every new step he takes. You were +learning to walk, Pippin." + +"Well, I got the tumbles all right!" Pippin shook his head. "Here was +the Lord helpin' me, helpin' me good, and you too, Elder, and Warden, +and Pete: and yet with all that--gorry to 'Liza!--with all that, if the +devil didn't get in his licks too, call me pudd'n head! He'd wait till I +was dog-tired, mebbe, or some one had spoke ugly to me. 'Huh!' he'd say, +'you're no good; what makes you think you are? You're spoilin' a +first-rate crook,' he'd say, 'and you'll never make anything else, +'cause that's where your gifts lie,' he'd say. 'Nobody'll ever trust +you, either!' he'd say. 'Sweat all you like, and pray all you're a mind +to, and sing your insides out,' he'd say; ''twon't make any difference. +A crook you are, and a crook folks'll think you!' he'd say." + +"But you knew better!" + +"Course I knew better; but there's times when knowin' don't seem to +help; and them times he'd get me down, Satan would, and kneel on my +chist, and lam into me--Green grass! he _would_ lam in!" + +Pippin was silent a moment; the chaplain watched him, silent too. + +"Come one day," Pippin went on, "he got me bad. I tried singin', but +that wouldn't do; I tried prayin', and all I could make out was the Lord +was real sorry for me, but I'd got to play this hand alone. When you +come round I tried to speak up and answer pleasant and cheerful, but I +guess I made a poor fist of it. I see you look me over; then you went +off kind o' thinkin', whistlin' that tune--what is it, that tune you +give us when you're thinkin' somethin' up, Elder?" + +The chaplain laughed outright. + +"'Am I a Soldier of the Cross?'" he said. "You know too much, Pippin." + +"I know this much!" cried Pippin. "I know you sent for me half an hour +later, and I come. Here were you, and there was I, and on the table was +a box full of money, and you were counting it over; might have been a +hundred dollars." + +"Just!" said Mr. Hadley. "My quarter's salary!" + +"Looked to be! Well, sir, I don't need to tell you. You began to ask me +about my cell, and was I careful about this, that or the other; all of a +sudden you pulls up and looks at your watch. 'Hello!' you says. 'Ten +o'clock! I've got to go and speak to the Warden about something. Just +watch this money till I come back, will you, Pippin?' And off you go +full chisel, and leave me--" + +Pippin's voice broke, and he brushed his hand across his eyes. The +chaplain laid a quiet hand on his shoulder; his own eyes were dim for a +moment. + +"And you think Sandy is ready for that?" he said quietly. + +"I do, sir!" Pippin straightened his shoulders and threw up his chin +again. "I know for myself that was the devil's last kick. I've never had +no more trouble with him since that day; and I think Sandy's time has +come to find there's somebody trusts him and looks to him to be a +decent chap from now on. Then there's Tom Kidd--but I'm keepin' you, +Elder! Mebbe you was goin' out, sir? Pleasant day like this--" + +"I'm keeping you!" The kind hand still on his shoulder, Pippin was +gently propelled toward the door. "Time you were starting, Pippin, since +you are determined to go in this way, without help or company. I'm +coming down with you, and you can tell me about Tom as we go." + +Down the stone stairs, talking earnestly as he went, pausing now and +then for the unlocking of an iron door which clanged "good-by" as it +shut behind him; through the narrow corridors whose brick walls shone +with the rubbing of generations of shoulders; through the guard room, +pausing here to shake the friendly hands of a dozen turnkeys, clerks, +attendants, all wishing him good luck, all bidding him not forget them +for they would sure miss him; down the final stairs at last went Pippin, +the chaplain still at his shoulder, through the door behind which he had +left hope three years ago, to find her again on the other side--out into +the air and sunlight, a free man. + +Now came the last handclasp--long and firm, saying many things; the last +clear glance of love and trust between blue eyes and brown; the last +word. + +"And remember, my son, that wherever you look for the grace of God, +there you will be pretty sure to find it!" + +"That's right, Elder!" said Pippin. "Amen! I'll look for it, sure! And +I'll never forget all you've done for me. So long, Elder!" + +"Good-by, my son! Good-by, Pippin! The Lord be with you!" + +The chaplain stood on the steps, watching the lithe, alert figure as it +strode along the highway; coming to the corner, it turned, waved a +salute and vanished. + +The chaplain sighed; he was glad, heartily glad, that Pippin was "out," +but he would miss him sadly; everybody would miss him. He had been the +sunshine of the place, these six months past. He looked up at the gray +walls, the frowning windows, and gave a little shiver; sighed and +smiled, squared his shoulders, and went back into the prison. + +Pippin, too, as he waved his farewell at the corner, smiled and sighed +and squared his shoulders, then he thrust out his jaw in a way the +parson knew well. + +"Now, bo," said Pippin, "it's up to you! Green grass! I'll miss that +man, I sure will. I'll miss him, and the Warden, and them little tads of +his, and Pete, and--gee! I'll miss the whole darned show. Now wouldn't +that give you a pain? Let's look it over a spell!" + +He looked carefully about, and, finding a large stone, flicked the dust +from it with a clean pocket handkerchief (which he then inspected +anxiously, shaking every speck of dust from it before repocketing it) +and, after laying down the bundle he carried, sat down. + +"It is up to you, son!" he repeated. "The Lord will see to His end, you +needn't worry about that any; you'll find your own enough to heft. The +Elder knows a lot!" he added meditatively. "He doesn't give you no easy +talk about blessin's an' golden crowns an' that: no, sir! 'You've got to +behave,' he says, 'or you'll be back here again. And the way for you to +behave is to hold fast to the grace that God has given you and to get +hold of what He has given to others.' Yes, sir! Straight talk is what +Elder Hadley gives. An' I'm goin' to do them things; just watch me! And +to begin with, I'm goin' to do some forgettin', a heap of it. I'm goin' +to forget the crib, an' the gang, and the--the _en_tire b'ilin'! Yes, +sir! I'll say good-by to 'em." He stopped, and taking off his cap, +turned it slowly round and round in his hands. "Say good-by to 'em!" he +repeated under his breath. + +He stared before him, as one seeing visions at once strange and +familiar. A cellar, dark and noisome, under a city street: an old woman +in a long blue cloak and a white cap, crouching over a spark of fire: a +half-naked child playing on the naked floor: in a corner a man sprawling +half-drunk, smoking a clay pipe. The child stumbles over the man's feet, +is clutched and held fast in one hand while the other shakes the burning +dottle from the pipe on the little bare back. + +"To larn ye manners!" growls the man. + +The woman rises painfully, totters across the cellar and brings down her +staff with astonishing force on the man's head--"She must have been a +hundred!" Pippin thinks--bidding him get out for the drunken brute he +is. Whack! Whack! The second blow brings the man staggering to his feet +and out of the door, protesting thickly, "I was only larnin' him +manners! He'll remember that, see if he don't." + +The child shrieked when the fire touched him; he is now whimpering +piteously. The old woman finds a rag and rubs something cooling on his +back, muttering some words--what were they? Pippin racks corners of his +memory. + +"White--white--patter, was it?" And then, "St. Peter's brother," +and--no, it is gone. But he knows the other! He sees her now take the +child's two hands in hers, hears her croon the unforgettable words to +the unforgettable tune: + + There was an old man, + And he was mad, + And he ran up the steeple. + He took off + His great big hat, + And waved it over the people! + +"I won't forget that!" said Pippin. "No, nor I won't forget the whole of +Granny Faa: some parts I'll keep. She was good to me many a time, and +give me snuff out of her box. But I'll forget Dod Bashford all right. +Just watch me--" + +He paused, for the vision came again. A dark night, a dark house, +shrubbery gleaming wet about it. A match flickers, carefully sheltered +by brawny hands, and shows a small window, as of a pantry, standing +partly open. Somebody is bidden with an oath to "boost the kid up!" A +boy of ten is seized by other hands and raised to the window. "Get in!" +says a rough whisper. "Round to your left and open the first door. If +you make a noise, I'll cut your heart out!" For some reason--it is not +clear what--the boy is unwilling, hangs back, struggling in air, pushing +away from the window-sill toward which he is thrust. "Will you?" growls +the rough voice, and the lighted match is held to his leg. Still the +child struggles dumbly for a little; at last, with a smothered shriek, +he gives up and climbs in at the window. + +"Green grass!" mutters Pippin. "I'll forget _that_: watch me!" + +He blinked twice or thrice, then straightened himself. "There!" said +Pippin. "There ain't no such folks in the world. I don't know as there +ever was--except old Granny! I'll keep her in it, 'long of them things +she done for me. And anyhow Granny was out of it before we begun to do +auto sneakin', country houses, and like that. She was dead by that time. +Now, son, you think of all the _good_ folks you know. Count 'em over, +what say? Take the other taste out of your mouth, see? There's Elder +Hadley first and foremost: keep your eyes on him right straight along: +he's like--like a window that's open, and no bars to it, and you see the +Lord through it, some way. Then there's the Warden, and Mis' +Warden--gee! remember that dinner she sent me in one day I pulled her +little tad out the water? There was--" Pippin's eyes kindled--"roast +beef, mashed potatoes--" he was checking the items off on his +fingers--"fried parsnips, pickles, apple pie--green grass! that was a +dinner! And she sent it to me by name, and her thanks, Elder Hadley +said, all because I see that kid fall into the cistern and hauled him +out. Well! and the kid--some kid that!--and he follerin' me round after +that, every chanst he got; and the others, too, and nothin' doin' but I +must sing to 'em. And then old Pete! gee! Pete'll miss me, and me him. +You make brooms 'longside of a guy for a year and you know what each +other thinks; and Pete is _all right_!" + +He paused once more, seeing things. No distant vision this time, but the +familiar scene on which he had just turned his back--forever, he and the +Elder hoped. A long vaulted room, bare and bright; forty or fifty men at +work making brooms; the clean, sweet smell of the broom corn almost +driving out the prison smell--almost!--near the door, under the watchful +eye of an official, two men working together, binding and clipping, +himself and Pete. Pete was talking, as he had talked that last day they +worked together. He knew Pippin was going out, and he, Pete, was in for +life. Seemed an awful waste, Pippin thought. Just because his mad got +away with him once--Hear Pete telling his story in a husky rumble, +cheerfully, as a matter of course, this fourteen years now. + +"I was cuttin' and rollin' my tobarker on the palm of my hand, and the +old woman come along and give me a slap in the face. I shoved her off +with my elbow and went on rollin' my tobarker. She come up again and hit +me over the head with a stove lifter. I forgot I had my knife in my +hand, and I just hit out and jabbed it into her. I hadn't oughter done +it, but yet it oughter _been_ done, 'pears like." + +"Old Pete! And him, you might say, the Warden's right hand now, after +ten years in solitary under the old management. Warden Merrow had him +out of that in good shape, now I tell you! Takes care of the cows and +pigs, sleeps with 'em, or so handy by he could hear if a shoat had the +teethache, or like that. Warden sends him off to buy cows, order in his +pocket, proud as a peacock; back in three days and he _is_ back, on the +dot. I tell ye! That's the way!" + +Pippin lifts his chin, squares his shoulders once more. "Look at here!" +he says. "If I'm goin' to set here all day belly-achin' over the folks +back there, I mought as well _go_ back there and stay back! It's bein' +on my own, you see, after bein' a bunch of corn in a broom, as you might +say. Green grass! I wish't I had some folks of my own!" + +A silence followed. Pippin studied the road before him, drawing patterns +in the dust with his stick. Mike Hooligan give him that stick: it come +from Ireland, and was the pride of Mike's heart; he wouldn't take gold +for it. Now wouldn't that--He examined the stick carefully. It was an +excellent blackthorn with an anchor carved on the head. Mike had been a +sailor, and was "in" for making too free with a marlinspike on a +shipmate's head. Finally, holding it up before him, he addressed it as +if it were a living creature. + +"Well! I ain't got no folks, see? But supposin' I had--what I would +say--I'd have 'em dandy, that's what! And--what's to prevent my kind o' +keepin' in the back of my head that if I _had_ folks, and they _was_ +dandy--and they would be, for the reason I wouldn't have the other +kind--why, I would act accordin' _to_. See? Well, you would! Now lemme +tell you about the folks I'd have. Kind o' get 'em set up, see, and then +I can carry 'em along, some kind of way, in the back of my head, and +they'll do me good and keep out--other things." + +Whistling softly, he took off his cap and turned it slowly round and +round, considering. + +"I'll have me a ma first!" he said. "She'll have a blue dress and a +white apron, and--sort o' pink cheeks, and when she speaks, she'll sort +o' smile all over her face. 'Sonny,' she'll say, 'sonny, come here and +I'll give you a piece of pie!' No! I'm goin' too fast. 'Sonny,' she'll +say, 'have you washed your hands? Go wash them good, and _then_ come +here and I'll give you a piece of pie.' That's the talk. Golly!--think +of her carin' whether my hands was clean or not. She would, though; you +bet she would! I've seen fellers as had that kind of ma. We'd have real +good times together, Ma and me! I'll have me a pa, too. Lemme see what +kind I'll have!" Again he paused, considering, his head on one side, his +face grave and earnest. "Tall, I guess, and big; big enough to lick me +if he wanted to, but he wouldn't want to, and I wouldn't make him want +to, neither. Smoke a pipe, and talk kind o' slow. Fought in the Civil +War, I expect Pa would have, and no end of stories to tell. When he came +in from--from--I expect he'd be a farmer: that's it! that's it! Nice +white farmhouse with green blinds and a garding and white ducks and all +the rest of it--Green grass! I wish't I was feedin' the ducks this +minute!--Well, when Pa came in, he'd set down and smoke his pipe and +then's my time. 'Tell me about Shiloh!' I'll say, or Gettysburg, or some +place else. And pa'll take me between his knees--I see the Warden take +his boy so, and it stays by me yet--and smoke, and talk, and gee! I'll +hear the bullets zip and see the flag--old Pa! he'd be a good one, +surely! Then--I wouldn't have no grandmother, because there's Granny +Faa; no kin to me, but she give me snuff--but--there's brothers and +sisters. How about them?" + +Pippin whistled "There was an old man" carefully through three times, +weighing, sifting, comparing. At last, "My brother ought to be a baby!" +he announced. "That's the best way. See? That way I can watch him grow, +and see him cut his teeth, and learn him manners--" he frowned, and drew +his breath in sharply; then he shook himself and squared his shoulders. +"Didn't I tell you I'd forgot that?" he said. "But my sister'd be in +between. Call her about four; pretty little gal--pretty little gal--" + +Once more the vision! An alley, or narrow court, where clothes are +drying. A mite of a girl trying to take the clothes down. She cannot +reach high enough; she stamps her little foot and cries. A boy comes and +takes them down for her. + +"Thank you, boy!" she says prettily. + +"Say Pippin!" says the boy. + +"Pip-_pin_!" cries the child in a clear, high little voice. + +Pippin runs his fingers through his close-curling hair with a puzzled +look. + +"Now--now--" he said; "when was that? 'Twas after the first things I've +forgot, and before the second. Pretty little gal! What was her name now? +Polly? No! Dolly? No! Well, anyhow, I guess I'll have my sister like +that little gal. Say her name was Dolly--and _that_ ain't right somehow, +but 'twill do. Now! you understand? Them's the folks I'd have--if I had +'em! See?" + +He nodded to the stick, rose from his stone, and stretched his arms with +a cheerful gesture; then he took up his bundle, a large bandanna neatly +tied (it held a change of linen; the chaplain had offered him a small +trunk and a second suit of clothes, but he liked to travel light, and +could wash as he went along, he said) and swinging it over his shoulder +on the end of his stick, Pippin took the road. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +PIPPIN MAKES A FRIEND + + +Elder Hadley had tried hard to persuade Pippin to commit himself to some +definite plan when his time was up. He wanted to give him letters to +this friend or that, who would help him to this or that position. + +"Give you a leg up!" said the good man. "Why not? I'll guarantee your +conduct, Pippin, and they'll be glad to help you, and give you a good +start. It may make all the difference in the world to you." + +"No offense, Elder," replied Pippin, "but I'd ruther not. I'd ruther +walk on my own feet than other folkses', even yours. Long as I've ben +here, I've took all you gave, and thankful; but now it's up to me and +the Lord, and we'll go on our own. No offense in the world, and thanking +you kindly, sir!" + +"But what are you going to do?" asked Mr. Hadley. + +"Haven't the first _i_dea!" replied Pippin cheerfully. "But I'll find +the right thing, just watch me! You see, Elder, this is the way I look +at it. I was fetched up to a trade, and it was the devil's, wasn't it? +Well! So I got a wrong start, you see. Now I've got to find the Lord's +trade, the one He meant for me to find, and you can't find unless you +look. That's the way I see it. I'm going to take the road and find my +own trade that I was meant for: I'll know it when I see it, don't you +have no fear!" + +Pippin fared merrily onward, walking briskly. As he went, he talked +aloud, now addressing the stick, which he called his pal, now an +imaginary comrade, now the beloved figure of the chaplain. This habit of +talking aloud had been formed in his prison days. A wholly social +creature, he loved the kindly sound of the human voice, and when there +was no other to hear he must listen to his own. He even called up the +family that his fancy had fashioned, and pictured them walking the road +with him, "Ma" in her blue dress, with her pink cheeks and bright eyes, +"Pa" brown and stalwart as himself ("only he'd wear a beard, kind of +ancient-like and respectable"), the little girl, even the baby. A +fanciful Pippin; but "I like to have things inter_est_in'," he would +say, "and they can't be real interestin' unless you have somebody to +chin with. See?" + +He was deep in an imaginary argument with the chaplain concerning the +merits and demerits of Chiney Pottle, who had occupied the next cell to +his. + +"I don't say he's lively company, Elder, nor I don't say he's han'some. +Take a guy like that, color of last week's lemon, and he's got somethin' +wrong with his liver, most likely, and Chiney sure has. He has pains +something fierce; I hear him groanin' nights. I see a yarn in a book +about a bird interferin' with some guy's liver: well, Chiney sounded +like that. But what I would say, you start anybody else groanin' or +belly-achin', any way, shape, or manner, and Chiney's _all there_! Shuts +up on his own, and is orful sorry you--" + +"Hi!" said a voice close beside him. Pippin started violently. He had +been so absorbed in talk that he had not heard the sound of wheels in +the soft dust of the road. + +The driver of the wagon pulled up his horse and surveyed him curiously. +"Who were you talkin' to?" he asked. + +Pippin blushed, but met his questioner's look cheerfully. A thickset, +grizzled man with an honest face, now screwed up in a puzzled +expression, bent forward over the dasher. + +"Who were you talkin' to?" he repeated. + +"I was just talkin'!" said Pippin. "I admire to talk, don't you?" + +The man looked about, to see if any one else were near: then again at +Pippin. "You don't look like a drinkin' man!" he said. + +"That's because I ain't!" Pippin smiled. + +"Nor yet you don't look loony! Yet there you was, footin' it along, and +talkin' nineteen to the dozen. Looks queer, to me!" + +"Does it? Now I maintain that it's more natural for a man to talk than +to keep still." + +The man studied Pippin with shrewd, observant eyes. At last, "Like a +lift?" he said. + +"Thank'ee!" said Pippin, and in another minute they were jogging along +the road. + +"Nice day!" said the stranger. + +"Dandy! Havin' elegant weather right along. Don't know as ever I see +better. As I was sayin'," Pippin turned toward his companion, "talkin' +is the way of natur', or so I view it. When a man keeps still--well, it +may mean one thing and it may mean another. He may be gettin' religion: +I never spoke for three days when the Lord was havin' it out with me: +but then again it may mean that he's plannin' to get out, or that he's +goin' home. Why, I've known men that never stopped talkin', mornin' +till night, fear they'd lose their minds if they did; in solitary, they +was." + +The man looked at him sharply. "What are you talkin' about?" he asked in +a different tone. + +Pippin's eyes met his squarely. "When a thing is so," he said, "it's so. +I found the grace of God, and there's no lyin' in mine from now on. I've +ben doin' time, sir! I'm just out of State Prison." + +"Is that so?" The man was silent, his kindly face grave. "What were you +in for?" the question came at last. + +"Breakin' and enterin'!" + +"Whew!" The gray-haired man drew in his breath with a long, slow +whistle. Again he studied Pippin's face intently. "You foolin'?" he +asked at length. + +Pippin shook his head. "Poor kind o' foolin' I'd call that, wouldn't +you? I'm tellin' you the truth." + +"Whoa up!" the man checked his horse, and looked about him. A lonely +road, no house in sight, no sound in the air save the distant barking of +an invisible dog. After scanning the landscape, he took a careful survey +of his horse, leaning forward to scrutinize every buckle of the harness; +at last his eyes came back to Pippin with a very grave look. "I guess +we'd better go into this a mite!" he said. "I ain't accustomed to--no, +you needn't get down! I don't mean that. I want to understand where I +am, that's all. Out on parole, are you, or--" + +Pippin stared at him; then broke into a laugh. "Or run away? That what +you was thinkin', sir? Why, if I'd run away, would I be tellin'? I guess +nix! No parole, neither. I'm out for good; served my turn--and had my +lesson!" he added in a different tone. + +"Breakin' and enterin', too!" the gray-haired man repeated. "How come +you to be breakin' and enterin'? Weren't you sayin' something about +religion just now? That don't go along with burglary, young chap!" + +"Brought up to it!" Pippin replied briefly. "My trade, from a baby as +you may say. I've give it up now, and lookin' for another." + +"How long were you there? In prison, I mean!" + +"Three years. It'll sound queer to you, sir, but I count them three +years the best I've had yet in my life." + +Glancing at Pippin, and seeing the bright eagerness of his face, the +stern look of the elder man softened. "How's that?" he said, not +unkindly. "Git up, Nelson!" he clucked to the horse, which started +obediently on a jog trot. Pippin drew a long breath, and threw his head +back with a little upward glance. One would have thought he was giving +thanks for something. Then he looked at his companion, timidly yet +eagerly. + +"I don't know as you'd care to hear about it, sir," he said, "but +perhaps if you had a boy of your own--" + +"I had! I'd like to hear, son!" + +Pippin breathed deeply again, and squared his shoulders, settling +himself in his seat. "I thank you, sir. I'll make it as short as I can. +Well! I hadn't no parents, to know them, and I growed up anyhow, as you +might say, kickin' round the streets. Come about ten years old, a man +bought my time of the old woman who had a kind of an eye to me--she was +no kin, but she was good to me sometimes--and I went with him, and +learned sneakin'." + +"Sneaking?" + +"Sneak-thievin'! Hallways, overcoats, umbrellas, like that! I hated it, +but I learned it good. Shopliftin', too, and pocket-pickin'! I could +pick your pocket, sir, and you'd never know I'd moved my hands. Your +pocket-book is in your inside breast pocket--" the man recoiled +involuntarily--"and I'd advise you to change it, for you see, sir, in a +crowd, any one in that line that knew his business would slit your coat +and pinch it just as easy--Well! So I learned that, and at the same time +I was taken on breakin's. I was small up to about twelve, and I did the +openin' and gettin' in part. I always hated that. You may not believe +me, but I didn't really like any of it much, but it was my trade, and I +wanted to do my best; and anyhow--anyhow I had to or I'd been killed." + +"What do you mean?" + +"Just that! He was that kind of man, the boss who bought my time. I saw +him kill a boy--I guess I won't go into that! Well, sir, I grew up big, +as you see, and I cut loose from Bashford's gang. I'd learned all he had +to teach--all that was worth learnin'--and I was counted a master hand +for a young un. Pippin the Kid--I had other names, too, but no need to +go into that. I was as proud of 'em as I am ashamed now, and I guess +that's enough. He tried to keep me, but I was fed up with him and his +kind, so I licked him in good shape and went over to Blankton, 'crost +the river. Along about then I got in with some fellers of my own age, +who thought breakin' was the only trade in the world. They were keen on +it, and they meant to be gentleman burglars, and get rich, and own the +earth, or as much of it as they could cover. They'd been readin' a book +about a feller named Snaffles; I called him a mean skunk, but they +thought he was all creation; well, they were good fellers, and we +chummed up together, and pretty soon I got my pride up and wanted to +show 'em that I knew all they did ten times over. _I did_! They had +growed up in homes, nice clean homes, with mothers--green grass! mothers +that took care of 'em, taught 'em to say prayers, kept their clothes +mended; wouldn't that give you a pain? If I saw them boys now, wouldn't +I put the grace of God into them with a jimmy--not that I carry a jimmy +now!" he added hastily. "I wouldn't, not if it was handier than it is, +and it's dreadful handy! Now a file's different!" + +"Why is it different?" asked his companion, half smiling at his earnest +look. + +Pippin's hair curled thick and close all over his head, like an elastic +cushion. He ran his fingers through it and produced a small file. + +"Anybody needs a file, you see!" he explained. "There's your nails, for +one thing; a crook has to keep his nails and hands just so, or he'd lose +his touch--and yet an honest man takes care of 'em too, or ought so to +do! This file is a good friend to me!" He replaced it carefully, the +other following his motions with wondering eyes. "But a jimmy, you see, +sir," turning an animated face toward his companion, "is a crook's tool, +and no one else's. Well! Where was I? Oh, yes, I had joined them +fellers. Well, we made up a gang, and we got us a name; the Honey Boys +we were. Crooks are real childish, or apt to be; I expect most folks +are, one way or another, but there's lots of crooks that ain't all +there, or maybe they wouldn't be crooks. Elder Hadley would say--but I +haven't come to him yet. So we was the Honey Boys, and we was goin' to +steal di'monds and jool'ry, and the kings of the earth wouldn't be in it +with us." + +"My! My!" said the stranger. "An' you lookin' like an honest feller! I'm +real sorry--" + +"I _am_ an honest feller!" cried Pippin. He leaned forward and laid his +hand on the other's knee. "Just look me in the eye! I couldn't pinch the +Kimberley di'mond, not if it was stickin' out in your shirt front this +minute. There's no pinch in me! Just you wait! Now was the time when the +Lord began to take a hand. That is, of course He was playin' the game +right along, but you couldn't see the cards; now they was on the table, +so to say. He'd give me just so much rope, and that was all I was goin' +to have. The first big job we undertook I got pinched and run in. Green +grass! how mad I was! You see, it wasn't my fault. One of our gang had a +hunch against me--I'd licked him one day when he robbed a kid. Brought +home a little gal's bracelet he'd took off her at the movies; wouldn't +that make your nose bleed? Well, I made his, I tell you, and he laid it +up; kind of Dago he was, with an ugly streak in him. There was four of +us on the job--country house job, and him and me was the two to go in +while the others kep' watch. So we went through the rooms, did it in +good shape too, got quite a lot of swag and didn't wake a soul till just +as we was gettin' out the window. He got out first and I give him the +bag; just then a door opened into the pantry where we was. He caught me +on the sill, give me a shove with all his strength and knocked me back +into the room, then he slammed the window and run off. I was too mad to +move for a minute, and then before I could get the window open, there +was a woman standin' by me--a tall woman she was, in a white gown. She +just looked at me and says she, 'Why, it's a boy! Oh, your poor mother!' +That took me kind of sudden, because I hadn't no mother, so to say--and +I guess she see the way I felt. I believe she would have let me off, but +just then her husband came in, and--well, it wasn't to be expected he +would look at it any such way. So I was run in, and I got three years." + +"In Shoreham?" + +"In Shoreham! P'raps you know the place, sir?" Pippin's eyes lightened +inquiringly. + +The stranger shook his head. "I never was in it, but I've seen some that +have been--and more that ought to be. Pretty hard place, I'm told!" + +"It used to be!" said Pippin. "They tell tales--and there's things still +that don't seem to belong, someway, to the Lord's world. Left-over +barber--barberries--no! barbarisms, Elder Hadley calls 'em. That's it, +barbarisms! Him and the Old Man--that's the Warden, sir--are doin' of +'em away as fast as they can, but you can't clean a ward with one pail +of water. And there's old crooks that wouldn't understand; they--I +dono--" Pippin shook his curly head, and was silent, seeing visions. His +companion jogged him with his elbow. The story was proving interesting. + +"You say you found the Lord there; or the Lord found you! How was that?" + +"I found Him!" Pippin laughed joyously. "He didn't find me, and reason +good: He never lost me. He knowed where I was all the time. I'll cut it +as short as I can. The first year I was no good. I was mad, and I stayed +mad: there was nobody I inclined to chum up with. There was some kind o' +made up to me, but I didn't take to 'em someway. They was dirty, too. +One thing I'll always lay kind to the Honey Boys, they was clean. +Brought up clean, you see; learned to wash, and brush their hair, and +that; mothers learned 'em. Green grass! and think o' their--Well, +anyhow, I took to that like a cat to cream; I've never been dirty since, +nor I can't abide dirty folks. I just grouched off by myself, and +planned what I'd do when my time was up; nobody thought I was any good, +and I wasn't. All I thought of was how to get out, and then get back at +Chunky--he was the Dago guy I was tellin' about. I'd study over it all +day long. I wouldn't kill him, I thought, just smash his face +(good-lookin' guy, great on the girls, an' they on him), or break his +back so he'd never walk again, or--_I'm tellin' you this because I am +ashamed to tell it_, and because I want you should know what the Lord +raised me up out of. I tell you I'd sit there after workin' hours, +hunched up in my cheer, never speakin' to a soul, just feelin' him under +my hands, feelin' his flesh go soft and his bones crunch--" + +Pippin stopped abruptly, flushing scarlet. "Lord, forgive me!" he said +simply. + +"Amen!--Well?" The gray-haired man was looking expectantly at him. "Go +on, young feller! You can't stop there." Pippin gave a gulp and went on. + +"The chaplain used to come and see me once or twice a week, and he give +me papers to read--nice papers they was, too; I liked 'em--and said I +was in a bad way and didn't I repent, and I said no, I didn't, and he'd +shake his head and say, 'Hardened! hardened!' kind of sad, and go away. +He'd ben there a long time, and it had soaked into him, as you may say. +He'd lost his spring, if ever he had any. Well! come one day--I'll never +forget that day! bright, sunshiny day it was, just like this--I went to +chapel as usual. I liked to go to chapel, 'count of the singin'. I'd +rather sing than eat, any day. I never noticed the words, you +understand, but I liked the tunes, and I sang out good whenever I got a +chance. So I went in with the rest, like a sheep, and sat down, never +lookin' up. I'd got a piece of string, and a feller had showed me a new +knot, and I sat tyin' it, waitin' for the singin'. I never took no +notice of anything else. Then a voice spoke, and I jumped, and looked +up. It was a strange voice, and a strange man. Tall and well set up, he +was, kind o' sandy hair and beard, and eyes that looked right through +you and counted the buttons on the back of your shirt. Yes, and his +voice went through you, too; it wasn't loud nor yet sharp, but you +couldn't help but listen. '_The Lord is here!_' he said. He let that +sink in a minute; then, 'Right here,' he said, 'in this chapel. And +what's more, you left Him behind you in your cell. And what's more, +you'll find Him there when you go back. _You can't get away from Him!_' +I can't tell you all he said, but every word come straight as a rifle +bullet. I wasn't the only one that sat up, I tell ye! 'Twas different +talk from what we was used to. He spoke about ten minutes, and it didn't +seem three; then he stops short and says, 'That's enough. Now let's +sing! Hymn 464!' Well, there was some sung, like me, because they liked +it, and there was a few here and there was professors, but half of 'em +didn't pay no attention special, just sat there. After the first verse +he held up his hand. 'I said _sing_!' says he. 'And when I say sing I +mean _sing_! Never mind whether you know how or not; _make a noise_! I +ain't goin' to sing alone!' + +"Gorry! I can see him now, standin' there with his head up, clappin' two +hymn books together to beat the time and singin' away for all he was +worth. In two minutes every man in the place was singin', or crowin', or +gruntin', or makin' what kind of noise was give him to make. Yes, sir! +that was Elder Hadley all over. I let out my voice to the last hole; I +expect I bellered like a bull, for he looked at me kind o' quick; then +in another minute he looked again, and that time he saw all there was to +see. I felt it crinkle down to my toes, so to say. Bimeby, as we were +goin' out, after service, he come down and shook hands with us all, +every man Jack, and said somethin' pleasant. Come to me, he looks me +right through again, and says he, 'Well, boy, what are _you_ doin' +here?' I choked up, and couldn't say a word. It wasn't so much what he +said, mind you, as the way he said it. Why, you was a real person, and +he _cared_; you bet he cared! Well, sir, 'twould take the day to tell +what that man did for me. He told me that 'twas true, the Lord _was_ +there. And that--that _He_ cared too. It took a long time to get that +into my head. I'd been kicked about from one gutter to another; nobody +ever had cared--except old Granny Faa; she give me snuff sometimes, when +she was sober, and she kep' Bashford off me as much as she could--but +still-- + +"Well! I'll bile it down. Come one day, somethin' started me wrong; I +don't know what it was. My head ached, and the mush was burnt, and I +didn't give a tinker's damn for anything or anybody. I did what I had +to, and then I sat down and just grouched, the way I told you. Crooks is +childish, as I said; maybe other folks is too, I dono. Well! So Elder +Hadley come along, and he says, 'Hello, Pippin! What's the matter? You +look like you'd been frostbit!' he says. I tried to fetch a grin, but it +wouldn't come. 'Nothin' doin', Elder!' I says. + +"'What's the matter?' he says again, his kind way. + +"'Hell's the matter!' I says. I used language, them days; never have +since, but I did then. + +"He sits down and looks me over careful. 'What's "hell"?' he says. + +"'Everything's hell!' I says: and then I biled over, and I guess that +mush was burnt all right. He listened quiet, his head kind o' bent down. +At last he says, 'How about takin' the Lord into this, and askin' Him to +help?' + +"'Nothin' doin'!' I says. 'There's no Lord in mine!' + +"'_Stop that!_' says he. I looked up; and his eyes was like on fire, but +yet they was lovin' too, and--I dono--somethin' in his look made me +straighten up and hold up my head. 'None of that talk!' he said. 'That's +no talk for God's boy. Now, hark to me! You like me, don't you, Pippin?' + +"'You bet I like you, Elder!' I says. 'There's nothin' doin' in your +line here, but you bet I like you. You've treated me white, and you're a +gentleman besides.' + +"'Now,' he says, slow and careful, 'what you like in me is just the +little bit of God that's in me. The little bit that's in you finds the +little bit that's in me, do you see? And _likes_ it, because they belong +together. There's another bit in the Warden, and another in Tom Clapp +there, though I'll own he doesn't look it (and he didn't); and there's a +bit in everybody here and elsewhere. And that's not all! Go you out into +that field yonder and sit there for an hour, and you'll find other +little bits, see if you don't! And see if they don't fit together.' + +"He pointed out of the window to a field a little ways off: I could see +the buttercups shinin' in it from where I sat. I stared at him. 'Go +along!' says he. 'What do you mean?' I says. 'I mean _go_!' he says. +'I've the Warden's leave for you whenever I see fit, and I see fit now.' +I looked at him, and I see 'twas true. I got up kind o' staggerin', +like, and he tucked his arm into mine, and he opened the door and we +went out. Out! I'd been in there a year, sir. I don't believe you could +guess what 'twas like. He marched me over to that field--we clum over +the fence, and _that_ done me a sight of good--and told me to set down. +Then he give me his watch--gold watch and chain, handsome as they make +'em--and said, 'Come back in an hour. Good-by, boy!' and he went off and +left me there. Green grass! do you understand? He never turned round +even. He left _me_--a crook, a guttersnipe, a jailbird--out there alone +in the sunshine, with the buttercups all round me." + +Pippin's voice broke. Mr. Bailey produced a voluminous bandanna +handkerchief and blew his nose loudly. There was silence for a few +moments. Pippin went on. + +"Then, after a while, I found the Lord, like the Elder said. He come all +round me, like the air; I couldn't get away from Him. A little bird come +and tilted on a bush by where I was sittin', and he sang, and there was +a bit of the Lord in him, and he said so, over and over, plain, and I +heard him. And the sun shined on the buttercups, and they had a bit too, +and appeared like they knowed it, and kind o' nodded and was pleased; +and the leaves on the trees rustled, and they appeared pleased, too. And +like a voice said inside me, 'It all belongs, and you belong too!' and +all at once I was down on my knees. 'It's the Lord!' I says. 'I've found +Him, and He's the Whole Show!'" + + + + +CHAPTER III + +PIPPIN FINDS A TRADE, "TEMP'RY" + + +There was a silence when Pippin finished his story. He had no more to +say. He sat erect, looking straight before him, with parted lips and +shining eyes. Jacob Bailey glanced at him once or twice, and cleared his +throat as if to speak, but no words came. Again he looked his horse +over, slowly and critically, as if he rather expected to see something +out of place. + +"That strap's worked a mite loose!" he muttered. "He crabs along so, you +can't keep the straps in place." + +Finally he blew his nose with much deliberation, and turned toward his +companion. "Young man," he said, "I'd like to shake hands with you!" He +held out a brown, knotty hand, and Pippin grasped it eagerly. "I believe +every word you say, and I thank the Lord for you. I--I'd ought to have +trusted you from the beginning, same as your face told me to, but--" + +Pippin shook his head emphatically. "I couldn't ask no more than what +you've done. I thank you, sir! I thank you much!" he cried. "You've +listened real kind and patient, and it sure has done me good, gettin' +this off my chest, like; a heap of good! It has so! And how could you +tell? I've seen crooks looked like--well, real holy and pious, different +from me as a dove from a crow, and they wasn't, but the reverse. +Behooved you be careful, is what I say." + +"Especially being guardian of the poor!" said Jacob Bailey. "Yes, son, I +run the Poor Farm, up to Cyrus. It's as pretty a piece of farm land as +there is in the state, and a pleasant place whatever way you take it. +Now--you say you are lookin' for a trade? How about farmin'? Ever think +of that?" + +Pippin pondered. "I never had any experience farmin'," he said, "but I +love to see things grow, and I love the smell of the earth, and like +that. I should think 'twould be a dandy trade all right." + +"Well!" Jacob Bailey's eyes began to shine too. "Now, young feller, I +tell you what! I--I take to you, some way of it. I don't take to +everybody right away like this; I'm some slow as a rule; but--what I +would say is this: I'm kinder short-handed just now at the Farm, and +unless you find something you like better, why, you might come and have +a try at that." + +"You're awful good!" cried Pippin. "Say, you are, Mr. Bailey, no +mistake. I feel to thank you, sir. As if you hadn't done me good enough, +lettin' me blow off steam, without this!" + +"Nuff said about that!" Bailey spoke with the gruffness of a shy man. +"You done me good too, so call it square. Well, you think it over, +that's all. No hurry! I'm there right along, and so's the Farm; and +farmin' is as good, clean, pleasant a trade as a man can find--or so I +hold, and I've farmed thirty years." + +"I'll bet it is!" Pippin climbed down from the wagon, and the two men +shook hands again, looking each other in the face with friendly eyes. +"I'll bet it is, and I wouldn't wonder a mite but I might take you up +some day, Mr. Bailey. I only want to make sure what it's meant I should +do, and if it is farmin' I'd be real pleased, I wouldn't wonder. And +anyway, I'll look you up some day, sir. I will, sure." + +"So do! So do, son! Good luck to you, Pippin, if that's your name. Git +up, Nelson!" + +Pippin returned the greetings with enthusiasm, and Jacob Bailey drove +off with many a backward wave and glance. + +"Real nice man!" said Pippin. "Ain't it great meetin' up with folks like +that? Now behooves me hasten just a mite, if I'm goin' to get to Kingdom +before sundown! He said 'twas about a mile further. Hello! What's goin' +on here?" + +Pippin was not to get to Kingdom before sundown. He stopped short. A man +was lying beside the road, motionless, his feet in the ditch, his head +on a tuft of grass: asleep, it seemed. An elderly man, gray and wizened, +his face seamed with wrinkles of greed and cunning. Near him on the +dusty grass lay a scissor-grinder's wheel. Pippin bent over him, looked, +looked again, then knelt down in the dust. + +"It's Nipper Crewe!" he said. "He's--no, he isn't! Hi, there! Crewe! +Hold up! What's the matter?" + +"Some kind of fit!" said Pippin. "There's no liquor in him. Here, Crewe, +wake up!" + +He shook the man gently: the lids quivered, opened; the bleared eyes +wandered, then fixed, and recognition crept into them. + +"Pippin!" he said faintly. + +"That's right! It's Pippin, all right. How you feelin', Nipper?" + +"What's the matter?" + +"Search me!" said Pippin cheerfully. "You appear to have had a fit, or +something. You'll come out all right." + +"Where is it?" + +"Where's what? Your wheel? Right handy by; I expect it dropped when you +did, but it looks to be all O.K. Took up grindin', eh? Good trade, is +it?" + +A cunning look crept into the dim eyes. + +"Good enough. Gets you into the house, and then--" his breath failed; he +lay back, gasping, in Pippin's arms. + +"Now wouldn't that give you a pain?" muttered Pippin. "Nipper," he said +aloud, "you're feelin' bad, ain't you? Now here we be on a good road +leadin' to a town only a mile off. There's three things to do: I can +carry you a little ways at a time till we get to a house; or we can set +right here and wait till somebody comes along; or I can lay you so +you'll rest easy--as easy as you can--and go and fetch somebody. Now--" + +"Don't go!" It was only a whisper, but the groping fingers caught +Pippin's sleeve and held it convulsively. + +"Go! Not likely, if you feel that way!" Pippin sat down cheerfully. +"It's nice to sit down, anyway. Say we put your head on my knee--so! +That's easier? Good enough! Why, we've been--not to say pals, Nipper, +but we sat side by each for a matter of a year. It's not likely I'd +leave you, is it?" + +The man shook his head feebly. + +"I ain't comin' out!" he whispered. "I'm goin'! I'm used up, Pip!" + +"Sho! What a way to talk!" Pippin glanced round him uneasily. +"Somebody'll be comin' along in a minute, and we'll get you into the +city, into a nice hospital--" + +The man shook his head feebly, but vehemently. + +"No you don't!" he said. "No more hospital in mine! They had me in one, +and I shammed well till they let me out. No more of that for me! I'll +die on the road." + +No one came; it was a lonely road at best, and at this twilight hour the +Kingdom folk were at their suppers. Impossible to leave the man, who was +evidently dying! Pippin rolled up his coat and put it under the +sufferer's head. Still looking about him with keen anxious glance, he +spied a tiny runnel near by, wet in it one of the two new handkerchiefs +the Warden's wife had given him, and bathed the gray face which seemed +to sharpen as he watched it. He bent lower. + +"Crewe! Nipper! Have you got any folks? Can I take any message?" + +"No! All gone!" + +"Nipper!" Pippin's voice grew eager, his face glowed. "You have got some +one! You've got the Lord, and He's got you. You're goin' to Him. Ain't +that great? Listen!" + +The sick man raised himself suddenly. + +"The wheel!" he said. "Take the wheel, Pippin! You was always white--I +bought it; I leave it to you--" + +He was gone. Pippin laid him down gently, and covered his face with the +hankerchief. + +"Poor old Nipper!" he said. "But there! He's better so. He hadn't hit it +off, as you may say, Nipper hadn't. I never knew much about him, but I +knew that much. Give him a new start, some place where there's no rum, +and he might do great things. Now what comes next? I expect we've just +got to wait here till somebody comes along. I couldn't leave him this +way, what say?" + +Pippin sat down by the roadside. He made no pretense of regret for the +departure of Nipper; seeing that he hadn't hit it off here, what object +in his remaining, bein' he was let to go? + +"Nipper's ma, now, may have thought he was a nice kid, and no doubt done +her best by him, but if she'd had any idea how he was goin' to look an' +act when he growed up, why that lady would have been discouraged, she +sure would. Hark! there's somebody comin' at last!" + +The disposal of poor Nipper's earthly part was a tedious business, but +it was accomplished finally. Pippin followed the coffin to its resting +place as in duty bound. The authorities questioned him pretty sharply, +but finally let him go with an admonition not to go sittin' round the +ro'ds, but get to work at something. There had been one doubtful +moment by the roadside, when the man who picked them up (he chanced to +be a selectman of Kingdom) asked who owned the wheel. Pippin looked at +him with puzzled eyes, and fingered his file. Why not? he was saying +to himself. He knew scissor-grinding, knew it from A to Z. Why not +take hold, now, since it had dropped right into his hand, so to say? +Yes, but how did he know--he, Pippin, was on the straight now, +forever-and-ever-give-glory-amen, and Nipper was a crook from 'way +back. How did he know--but then again, _did_ he know? 'Twas all right +to stand straight, but no need to straighten so far you fall over +backwards! See? Mebbe this was what the Lord had in view, he wouldn't +wonder! + +"I expect it's mine!" he said. + +The man looked him over sharply. "You expect it's yours?" he repeated. +"What do you mean by that?" + +"It's mine, then!" said Pippin, decidedly, and laid his hand on the +wheel. It was a leading, he decided. The man stood irresolute a moment, +but Pippin smiled at him, and nodded assurance. "It's all right, boss!" +he said. "It's mine right enough, see? And I'll see to it. What we've +got to do now is to get this poor old guy buried, what?" + +Finally, here was Pippin with a trade ready to his hand. + +"Temp'ry!" he assured himself. "I don't feel that the Lord picked out +scissor-grindin' for me, but while I'm lookin' about, 'twill keep the +pot a-b'ilin', and while I'm grindin', I'll grind good, just watch me!" + +Pippin had spent for supper and lodging one of the dollars Elder Hadley +had given him, but he had no idea of spending the other. Sharp-set for +breakfast, he carried his wheel through the main street of Kingdom, his +quick eyes glancing from side to side, and stopped before a door bearing +the legend, "Bakery and Lunch." The window beside the door was polished +to the last point of brilliance; the loaves, rolls, pies and cakes +displayed within were tempting enough. "This for mine!" said Pippin, and +stepped in. + +"Mornin'!" he said to the crisp, fresh, rosy-cheeked woman behind the +counter. "Nice mornin', ain't it?" + +"It sure is!" was the reply. "What can I serve you?" + +"Well! I was wonderin' if we could do a little business, you an' me. Say +I sharpen your knives and you give me a mite of breakfast; how would +that suit?" + +The woman looked him over carefully. "You a knife-grinder?" she asked. + +"_And_ scissors! Wheel right outside here. I'll grind while you get the +coffee. That's straight, isn't it?" + +"'Pears to be! What do you ask for a bread knife?" + +"You tell me what you're in the habit of payin', and I'll ask that. I'm +new to the trade, and I aim to please. Here, sonny!" as a black-eyed +urchin bobbed in from the bakery, his arms full of loaves. "Gimme your +jackknife and I'll sharpen it just for luck, so your ma'll see I mean +business! Sing you a song, too! Hand it over. My! that's a handsome +knife! + + "'There was an old man--'" + +The stroke succeeded. The jackknife brought to murderous sharpness, the +mistress of the bakery declared that the others could wait. Soon Pippin +was enjoying to the full what he declared a breakfast that a king would +cry for: eggs and bacon, coffee and rolls, all excellent of their kind. + +"I wonder why they _call_ it coffee over there!" he confided to his +stick. "'Cause if this is, that ain't, you see! But 'twas good as I +deserved! That's the way they look at it, I take it; and I expect +they're right. No, ma'am, not another morsel. I'm full as much obliged +to you. That sure was a good meal! Now I'm ready to sharpen all the +knives and scissors in the county. I'll stand my wheel close to the door +where it won't be in folks' way, and then just watch me!" + +The baker's wife brought an apronful of knives and scissors, and Pippin +set to work, blessing the Old Man, who had put him in the tool shop for +six months and made him keep the tools in order while old Grindstone was +laid up with rheumatism. Old Grindstone! Pippin wondered what his real +name was. "They called him Grindstone, account of a song he used to sing +when he was grindin'. He said 'grinstone' where I say 'grindstone,' and +I always maintained I had reason, because it grinds; but he thought +otherwise, and he'd grind away--wonderful hand he was at it; in for +twenty years, and ground all the time except when laid up as he was now +and again; arson, though he says he never knew there was any one in the +house, and anyway they was got out alive, though some damaged--well--so +he'd grind away, the old man would, and all the time he'd sing in a kind +of dry, wheezy voice: + + "Grin, grinstone, grin! + Grin, grinstone, grin! + When you're out + You roam about, + But it's otherwise when you're in--grin! + It's otherwise when you're in! Grin! + It's otherwise when you're in!" + +Pippin's voice rang out round and full; his wheel turned merrily, the +blades flashed in the sun. A little crowd gathered round him, watching +the whirling wheel. Looking up, he saw some children among them. Was +this quite the song for them? He checked himself and broke out with + + "There was an old man + And he was mad--" + +The children clustered nearer. + +"Sing another!" said a little flaxen-haired girl in a pink pinafore. + +Pippin looked at her approvingly, and reflected that she was the very +moral of the "little gal," that little sister he had--or as good as had, +almost! He ran over his repertory: most of the prison songs were not +what her ma would choose--certainly not! But--there was one the cook's +boy used to sing--how did that go? + + "Dum de rido! dum de rido! + I had a little dog, and his name was Fido--" + +"What's that?" Something seemed to speak in his heart. "Why not sing one +of the Lord's songs? Well, I _am_ a duffer! And tryin' to think of some +that would do!" + +He threw back his head, and let out his voice in a shout that made the +listeners start: + + "Oh, Mother dear, Jerusalem, + When shall I come to thee? + When shall my sorrows have an end, + Thy joys when shall I see?" + +The baker's wife came to the door and stood, wiping her eyes with her +apron. The baker, flushed and floury, left his ovens and came to peer +over her shoulder, open-mouthed; people appeared in the neighboring +windows and doorways, and the crowd on the sidewalk thickened silently. +Pippin neither saw nor heard them; his voice poured out in waves of +song, longing, rejoicing, triumphant. + + "Thy gardens and thy goodly walks + Continually are green, + Where grow such sweet and pleasant flowers + As nowhere else are seen." + +"You bet they do!" + + "Right through the streets with silver sound + The living waters flow, + And on the banks on either side + The trees of life do grow." + +"There, ma'am, there's your knives and scissors as good as I can do 'em, +and I hope it's pretty good, to pay for that good breakfast. I surely +do." + +"Good land, young man!" cried the baker's wife. "Who learned you to +sing like that? Why, you'd sing the heart out of a stone statue!" + +Pippin laughed joyously, eyes and teeth flashing together. + +"I expect the Lord did, ma'am!" he said. "Anyhow it's His song, and you +have to sing it as good as you can, ain't that so? Don't know of a job +goin' beggin', do you, ma'am?" + +"What kind of job?" + +"'Most any kind! I'm lookin' for a trade to work in with my grindin' for +a spell. I'm handy, var'ous ways: make brooms, set glass, carpenter or +solder, I've done 'em all." + +"Ever been in a bakery?" + +"Not yet, but I'd admire to, if there was a chance." + +Pippin's face kindled, and he looked eagerly from the baker's wife to +the baker himself who was considering him gravely. He was a stout, +kindly-looking man; his right hand was bandaged, and he wore his arm in +a sling. + +"I'm in need of an extry hand myself," he said slowly, with a glance at +the bandage. "I don't know--" He looked at his wife, who nodded +emphatically. + +"Step inside a minute, young man! Move on, boys, if you'll be so good! +You're cluttering up the whole sidewalk." + +The crowd slowly dispersed, one or two neighbors lingering to question +the good woman of the shop about the young stranger who sang so +wonderfully. Who was he? Where'd he come from? Good-lookin', wasn't he? +Their own knives would be none the worse for goin' over-- + +Inside the neat, fragrant shop, with its tempting display of coffee +cakes, brown and varnished, of shapely loaves and rolls, cookies and +doughnuts, the baker questioned Pippin. At first the questioning +promised to be brief, for when, in response to "Where do you come from?" +he heard, "State Prison!" the good man shook his head resolutely. + +"I guess that isn't good enough!" he said, not unkindly. "I'm sorry, +young feller, for I like your looks, and you sing like a bird; but--my +shop has a good name, and--" + +"Hold on!" Pippin laid a hand on his arm. "I know how you feel, sir! I'd +feel the same in your place; but it would be because I didn't know. I +won't hurt your shop, nor you! I'm _straight_! Lemme tell you!" + +He told his story briefly, the baker listening with anxious, doubtful +looks. + +"So you see," he ended, "I couldn't go on the crook again, not if I +wanted to, and I don't!" + +Still the comfortable-looking baker shook his head. "I've heard pious +talk before," he said; "it don't always hold good. I'm afraid--" he +rose, as if to close the interview; Pippin rose too. His eyes roved +round the pleasant shop, and came back, meeting the baker's squarely. +"This is a dandy place!" he said slowly; "and you have the look of a +dandy person, if you'll excuse the freedom. I'd like to work for you, +and--I'd hate--to think--that you wouldn't help a guy that wanted help +and wanted to work for it. I think you make a mistake; but it's your +store, and what you say goes." + +With a little bow and another regretful look around him, Pippin turned +toward the door. A moment, and he would be gone. His hand was on the +latch. + +"Hold on!" said the baker. "I didn't say positive. I'm not a hard man by +nature, only--" + +"I bet you ain't!" said Pippin. "That's why I say I think you make a +mistake--" He turned back with his smile that seemed to warm and +brighten the whole shop. "Try me, Mister! Try me a week, and see for +yourself. No satisfaction, no pay, as it says on the medicine bottles. +And I couldn't pinch anything off'n you now if I wanted to. I've put you +wise, and you'll be on the watch, see?" + +The baker laughed in spite of himself. "We'll make it a week, then!" he +said. "But not a word to my wife of where you come from. She's +timoreous, and she wouldn't sleep a wink all night." + +"Now!" said Pippin, "I wouldn't break that good lady's rest, not for all +the elegant things in this bakeshop." + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +PIPPIN GOES TO CYRUS + + +Pippin always looked back on the weeks he spent in Kingdom as one of his +good times. Folks were so everlastingly good to him; they couldn't +hardly have been better, he thought, not unless they had been your own. +Mrs. Baxter, the baker's wife, was like--well, call it an aunt. Yes, she +sure was like a good aunt, and equally so was her uncle; as for Buster, +the boy--well, that was Pippin's moral of a boy. Buster would grow up a +fine man, you see if he didn't. He'd _better_! As to looking for the +grace of God like he promised Elder Hadley, why, he didn't have to. It +stuck right out of 'em, like--like electric lights! + +Pippin lodged with the Baxters and paid his board in work, lighting the +fires in the morning, heating the ovens, sweeping out the shop, and +doing a "hand's turn" in many directions. Mrs. Baxter declared +Providence sent him just at that time, when Father had caught his hand +in the oven door and lamed him so; she did not know what upon earth they +would have done without Pippin. Indeed he showed himself so handy that +after the first week Mr. Baxter offered him a permanent job, declared he +would make him the smartest baker in the county. Pippin promised to +think it over. He loved the smell of new bread; he loved to handle the +dough, and rake out the glowing coals; yes, it was a pleasant trade, it +sure was; but yet--but yet-- + +Other offers came to him. Among the crowd who had gathered to hear him +sing that first day were Father O'Brien of St. Bridget's and Elder +Stebbins, the Methodist Minister. Both were music-lovers. Both made it +in their way to drop in at the bakery in the course of the next few +days, and invite the young scissor-grinder to sing in their choir while +he sojourned in their midst. Was he a Catholic? Father O'Brien asked. +No? More was the pity, but let him come and sing in the church, and +'twould be good for him and the rest besides. Pippin assented joyfully. +He would be real pleased to come, and sing the best he knew how. Then +came Elder Stebbins, ostensibly to buy a coffee cake for supper. Was his +young friend a Christian? "You bet!" replied Pippin, wrapping up the +cake with deft fingers. "I'd have to be, wouldn't I? Unless that the +Lord had seen fit to have me a Chinee, or like that, and I'm just as +glad He didn't!" + +Mr. Stebbins hoped his young friend was also a Methodist; but Pippin +shook his head; he guessed not. They were all good, he guessed; he +presumed he belonged to every church there was, in a general way, you +know. Mr. Stebbins looked grave, and said that was not a very safe +doctrine. He hoped his young friend would join their service of song on +Sunday evening; it might be helpful to him, and would assuredly minister +to the enjoyment of others. Pippin assented joyfully, after ascertaining +that service would be over in time for him to set his sponge to rise. + +So on Sunday, and other happy Sundays, he went to St. Bridget's in the +morning, and sang stately old Latin hymns and chants; inhaled incense +(which he thought real tasty, but yet nothing to what the Lord could do +with a field of white clover), kneeled reverently with the rest, +listened respectfully to Father O'Brien's excellent little sermon, and +liked it all. And the evening found him behind the green moreen +half-curtains in the Methodist meetinghouse, pouring out his soul in +gospel hymns and assuring his hearers that they would meet beside the +river, the beautiful, the beautiful river, in such tones and with such +feeling that every woman in meeting wept, and there was a mighty blowing +up of nasal trumpets among the men. Elder Stebbins' discourse was rather +long-winded and rambling, but when Pippin lost the thread, he would take +refuge in a psalm, or recall one of Elder Hadley's brief, pistol-shot +addresses, or think how the buttercups shone in the field that day he +found the Lord. And here, too, he loved it all, every bit, and came home +in a glow of happiness and fervor that was enough to make the dough rise +at the sight of him. + +The baker was puzzled at first by his new assistant; as the good man +himself expressed it, he didn't get on to Pippin's curves. There were +things that jarred--for a time--on his sensibilities; as thus. They were +together in the shop one evening, and a customer came in for his evening +loaf; the shoemaker it was, Jere Cargo, a man of dry, critical humor. He +commented on the loaf; it was a shade deeper brown than usual. + +"One minute more, young man, and that loaf would have been burnt, that's +what!" + +Pippin scanned the loaf carefully. "Is that so?" he said. "Now! Why, I +was pleased with this batch, I thought the Lord give me an elegant bake +on it: that's what I _thought_! But if folks likes 'em pale, why, pale +it is!" + +The shoemaker stared; Mr. Baxter coughed apologetically as he +accompanied him to the door, and--on a summoning jerk of the +head--followed him outside. + +"What have you got there?" asked the shoemaker. "A preacher? Where'd you +get him?" + +"No, he isn't a preacher, though I dare say he might have been, if he'd +had education. He's just pious, that's all. It's his way of talking." + +His tone was conciliatory, but the shoemaker sniffed. + +"'Just pious!'" he repeated. "Look out for 'em, I say, when they're just +pious. They'll bear watching. Where'd you say he come from?" + +"He's traveling!" Mr. Baxter knew his customer, and had no idea of +telling him whence Pippin came. "He's a scissor-grinder by trade, and a +master hand at it. I hurt my hand last week, and he come along just in +the nick of time and has been helping me since. Real good help he is, +too." + +"Humph!" said Jere Cargo, shrugging his dry shoulders. "You look out for +him, that's all I say. Sharp-looking chap, I call that; he'll bear +watching." + +Returning to the shop, Mr. Baxter coughed again, this time with his eye +on Pippin, who was arranging a tray of creamcakes with a lover's ardor. + +"Ain't them handsome?" he cried. "I ask you, Boss, ain't them handsome? +And dandy to eat--green grass! Mis' Baxter give me one. _They_ drop +fatness all right, no two ways about that!" + +Here Pippin broke into song, proclaiming joyously that he was a pilgrim, +he was a stranger, he could tarry, he could tarry but a night. + + "Do not detain me, + For I am going--" + +"Ahem!" said Mr. Baxter, "I was thinking, Pippin--" + +Pippin came to attention instantly. "Yes, sir! You was thinkin'--" + +"I was wondering--" the baker spoke slowly, in a tone half admonitory, +half conciliatory, and wholly embarrassed--"whether maybe you--just in a +manner, you understand, just in a manner--was in the habit of making a +mite too free with--with your Maker, so to speak." + +Pippin's eye grew very round. "Meanin'--with the Lord?" he said. + +"Yes! with--with--as you say, with the Lord!" Mr. Baxter was a godly +man, but his Deity lived in the meetinghouse and was rarely to be +mentioned except within its four walls. "For example," he went on, "I +was wondering whether it was exactly a good plan to bring the--the +Almighty--into the bakeshop." + +"Gorry!" said Pippin. "I'd hate to leave Him out of it!" His eyes, still +round and astonished, traveled slowly about the pleasant place. Three +sides of it were filled with glass counters displaying a wealth of pies, +pumpkin, apple, mince and custard, with cakes of every variety, from the +wedding cake which was Mr. Baxter's special pride, to his wife's +creamcakes, eagerly sought by the neighborhood for ten miles round. +Behind the counter, on neat shelves, were stacked the loaves of bread, +white and brown, the crisp rolls and melting muffins. The shop looked as +good as it smelled; "ther nys namoore to seye!" + +"I'd hate to leave Him out of it!" repeated Pippin. "Dandy place like +this! Don't know as I get you this time, Boss!" He turned bewildered +brown eyes on Mr. Baxter, who coughed again and reddened slightly. + +"What I meant--" the baker ran his eye along a pile of loaves, and +straightened one that had slipped out of place--"isn't it making rather +free with--ahem! what say?" + +"Oh!" Pippin's face lightened. "I get you! Now I get you, sir! Lemme +tell you! Lemme tell you just the way it is." Fairly stammering in his +eagerness, Pippin leaned across the counter, his eyes shining. "You see, +sir, I was raised a crook!" + +"Hush!" Mr. Baxter looked over his shoulder. "No need to speak out loud, +Pippin. Just as well to keep that between ourselves, you know." + +"I was raised," Pippin repeated in a lower tone, "a crook, and I +heard--and used--crooks' language. Nor it isn't only crooks!" he cried, +smiting the counter. "Where I was raised, 'most everybody had the name +of God on their tongues every hour in the day, but not in the way of +praisin' Him; no, sir! There's plenty folks--good folks, too--they can't +name hardly anything, whatever be it, without 'God damn' before it. You +know that, Mr. Baxter. You know what street talk is, sir." The baker +nodded gravely. "Well, then! That's what I was raised to, and it run off +my tongue like water, till--till I come to know Elder Hadley. I'm +tol'able noticin', sir; I expect crooks is, when they're all there; you +have to be, to get on. I noticed right off the way he spoke, clean and +short and pleasant, no damnin' nor cussin'; and I liked it, same as I +liked clean folks and despised dirty ones. That was all there was to it +at first. But yet I couldn't stop all of a sudden; it took time, same as +anything does, to learn it. Then--come to find the Lord, like I told +you, sir, why--I dunno how to put it. I'd ben askin' Him all my life to +damn everything, this, that, and the other, folks, and--everything, I +say; I didn't mean it, 'twas just a fool way of speakin', but what I +thought was, supposin' I was to ask Him to help right along, 'stead of +damn, and _make_ it mean something! What say? You get my idea, Mr. +Baxter, sir?" + +Mr. Baxter nodded again. "I get it, Pippin. I won't say anything more." + +"But yet--but yet--" Pippin was stammering again, and halfway across the +counter in his passion of eagerness. "I get you, too, Boss! I do, sure +thing. You mean it brings some folks up short, like that gen'leman that +stepped in just now? He's no use for me, I see that right off; I +wondered why, and now 'tis clear as print. I'd oughter sized him up +better. Take that kind of man, and he may be good as they make 'em, +prob'ly is; but yet--well--you say the Lord's name _excep'_ in the way +of cussin'--I don't mean that he's that kind himself--but--_it's like he +stubbed his toe on the Lord's ladder, see?_" + +"You've got it! you've got it!" the baker was nodding eagerly in his +turn. He laughed and rubbed his hands. "Stubbed his toe on--on the +Lord's ladder! I--I expect I stub mine a mite, too, Pippin, but I won't +say another word." + +"'Cause we're awful glad the ladder's there, ain't we, sir?" Pippin's +voice was wistful enough now. + +"Ahem! Yes! yes!" The baker took out a clean red handkerchief and rubbed +an imaginary spot on the shining glass. "That's all right, Pippin. Do +what comes natural to you; only--what _are_ you doing now?" + +There was a little stove in the shop, behind the middle counter, used +for "hotting up" coffee or the like when people were in a hurry. Pippin, +after a glance at the clock, had taken some pennies out of the till, and +was laying them carefully on the top of the stove, which glowed red +hot. + +"What are you doing?" repeated the baker. Pippin grinned. + +"Tryin' an experiment!" he said. "There was a quarter missin' yesterday, +Boss, you rec'lect, and ten cents the day before, and so along back." + +"Yes!" Mr. Baxter looked serious. "I'm afraid, Pippin--" + +"Don't be afraid, sir! Just watch me!" Pippin tested the pennies +carefully and taking them up one by one on the blade of his jackknife, +deposited them on the counter. "I've noticed along about this time every +night--there they come! Don't say a word, only watch!" + +He retired behind the counter as the door opened and two children came +in, a boy and a girl. They were poorly dressed, and there was something +furtive and slinking about their looks and manner, but they came forward +readily, and the girl asked for a five-cent loaf of white bread, putting +at the same moment five pennies on the counter, close beside those which +already lay there. As Pippin was tying up the bread, the girl began to +ask questions. How much was them cookies? Were they molasses or sugar? +What was the price of the custard pie, and when was it baked? + +"Baked this mornin'!" Pippin replied cheerfully. "Cost you a quarter, +and worth a dollar. What--" + +A piercing howl interrupted him. The tinkle of metal was heard, and the +boy sprang back from the counter and danced about the shop, crying and +spluttering, his fingers in his mouth. Pippin vaulted the counter in an +instant. + +"What's the matter, Bo?" he asked kindly. "Hurt your finger? Lemme see!" +The boy clenched his fist, but Pippin forced the fingers open, not +ungently. "Why, you've burnt 'em!" he announced. "My! my! that _must_ +hurt! How in the name--why, you must have made a mistake and took up +some of Mr. Baxter's pennies. Yes, sir, that's what you done. Didn't you +know that bakeshop pennies was hot? They be, sure thing! There goes +Sissy!" as the girl, seizing her loaf, slipped noiselessly out of the +door. "Now you foller her, Bo, and go home and tell your ma what I say. +_Bakeshop pennies is hot!_ Think you'll remember that? Here's something +to help your mem'ry!" + +Leading the boy to the door, he gave him a carefully modulated kick, and +with a friendly, "So long, Bo!" returned to the shop. + +"I've had my eye on them kids for two three days!" he explained. "Smart +kids! If I met 'em in the city, I should say they was in trainin'. I'll +set Father O'Brien on 'em; they go to his gospel shop. I see 'em there." + +"I never should have thought it!" said the baker, and he shook his head +sadly. "Those little kids! Why, the boy doesn't look to be more than +eight years old, and the girl only a year or so older." + +"That's the time to start 'em!" Pippin spoke with emphasis. "If you're +aimin' to make a first-rate crook, you've got to start in early with +him. But Father O'Brien'll see to 'em; he's smart as a jimmy, Father +O'Brien is." + +"We won't tell the wife!" said Mr. Baxter. "She is nervous, and 'twould +ha'nt her, and keep her awake nights. One comfort, they're not Kingdom +born, those kids. They belong to them French folks over by the dump, +down Devildom way." + +Weekday mornings Pippin spent mostly in the bakery, working, singing, +whistling, all with a hearty will. After dinner he would take his wheel +and go his way through the pretty shady streets of the country town, or +out along the green roads that led from it in various directions. When +he came to a promising looking corner with houses set within comfortable +reach of one another, he would stop, and leaning on his wheel, would put +up his shingle, as he called it: in other words, sing his grinding song. +He had made it up, bit by bit, as the wheel turned, humming, under his +hands. Here it is: but you should hear Pippin sing it! + + Knives and scissors to grind, oh! + Have 'em done to your mind, oh! + Large and small, + Damaged and all, + Don't leave any behind, oh! + + Knives and scissors to grind, oh! + Every specie and kind, oh! + Bring 'em to me, + _And_ you will see + Satisfaction you'll find, oh! + +"Yes, sir, made it my own self!" he replied to Elder Stebbins' questions +on the song. "I don't know how I done it. I expect it was a kind of +miracle. I sang the first line through two three times, and lo ye! the +next one turned right up matchin' of it. Now that isn't nature, you +know, but yet it's _right_, and it fits straight in. When a thing comes +like that, I call it a miracle. What say?" + +"Very interesting, my young friend! Do you--a--might it perhaps be +better to substitute 'species' for 'specie'? The latter means, as you +doubtless are aware, current coin; and--" + +"Great!" said Pippin. "Current coin is what I'm after every time, so I +get it honest. Specie'll do for me, Elder!" + +Before he had sung the song through once, doors and windows would be +opening, housewives peering out, children running to gather round the +magic wheel, listening open-mouthed to the singer. It was all play to +Pippin; wonderful, beautiful play. + +"I tell you," he would say, "I tell you, seems though just to breathe +was enough to keep gay on. Over there to Shoreham--I dunno--I expect the +air got discouraged, some way of it. They'd open the windows, but the +outside air was shy of comin' in--like the rest of us! But out here in +the open--and things lookin' like this--green grass! I'm happy, and +don't you forget it!" + +Sometimes he got a lift on his way. Solitary drivers, plodding along the +road, and seeing the trim, alert figure ahead stepping out briskly with +its wheel, were apt to overhaul it, and after a glance at Pippin's face +would most likely ask, "Goin' along a piece? Like a lift?" and Pippin, +with joyous thanks, would climb eagerly in, all ready to begin a new +chapter of human intercourse. + +Once, so clambering, he found himself beside a tall man, brown-eyed and +brown-haired, who drove a brown horse. Pippin's eyes were brown, too, +but they danced and sparkled like running water; the stranger's eyes +were like a quiet pool under shady trees, yet there was light in them, +too. + +"Goin' far?" he asked. His voice was grave, and he spoke slowly. + +"Four Corners was what I'd aimed at," said Pippin, "but if you ain't +goin' that way--?" + +"Goin' right past it, on my reg'lar route! I do business there to the +store. I see you carry your trade with you, same as I do!" He jerked his +head backward toward a neat arrangement of drawers and tiny cupboards +which half filled his roomy wagon. "Nice trade, I expect?" + +Pippin laughed his joyous laugh. "Real nice, only it isn't mine, not for +keeps, I would say. 'Twas a--well, you might call it a legacy, and you +wouldn't be far wrong. It come right to my hand when I was lookin' for a +job, and I took it up then and there. Yes, sir, 'tis a good trade, and a +man might do well at it, I don't doubt, but yet I don't feel it to be my +own trade that I was meant for. So I go about seekin' for that one, and +workin' at this one, and helpin' in the bakery--Baxter's to Kingdom; I'm +boardin' there--helpin' there mornin's an' evenin's." + +The brown eyes studied him carefully. + +"About twenty-one years old, son? Twenty-two? I thought about there! +Well, what have you been doin' up to now?" + +Pippin told him, much as he had told Jacob Bailey. The brown man +listened attentively, murmuring, "Sho!" or "Ain't that a sight!" +occasionally to himself. + +"So you see," Pippin concluded, "I want to be right down sure I've got +the real thing before I settle down." + +"Sure!" the other assented. "That's right!" + +"And I keep feelin' at the back of my head that what I want is work with +my hands; not this way, but farmin', or like that. The smell of the +earth, and to see things growin', and--don't you know?" + +The stranger assented absently. + +"Elegant!" he said. "Farmin's elegant, when you've got the gift, +but--ever thought of goin' to sea?" he asked; an eager look came into +his face. + +Pippin shook his head. "Not any!" he said. "I see the sea once, an' +honest, it give me the creeps. Cold water mumblin' over the stones, like +it wanted to eat 'em; and brown--kind o' like hair it was, floatin' +about; and every now and then a big wave would come _Sssss!_ up on the +shore--well, honest, I run! I was a little shaver, but I've never wanted +any more sea in mine!" + +The brown man laughed. "You'd feel different, come to get out in blue +water!" he said. "Smell the salt, and get the wind in your face, +and--gorry! I'm a sea-farin' man," he said simply. "I spent good part of +my life at sea. I'm runnin' a candy route at present--have a pep'mint! +Do! 'Twon't cost you a cent, and it's real good for the stummick--but +where I belong is at sea. Well! you can't do better than farmin', +surely. Would you like a temp'ry job pickin' apples? I dunno but Sam--" + +"There's more to it than that!" Pippin was speaking absently now; there +was a wistful look in his eyes. "There's all that, the smell of the +ground, and--and buttercups and--things; but there's more to it. There! +You seem so friendly, I'll say it right out. I want to help!" + +"That's right!" murmured the brown man. "Help! that's the stuff!" + +"I want to help them that needs help. I want there shouldn't be so many +kids in cellars, nor so many boys go wrong. Green grass! Tell you what!" +Pippin's eyes were shining now, and his hands clenched. "I've been +sayin' along, this month past, I'd forget all that time when I was a +kid; I'd forget everything up to where I found the Lord. I kind o' think +there was where I was wrong, mister--?" + +"Call it Parks!" said the brown man. "Calvin Parks is what I was +christened, and I'd like to know your name, son." + +"Pippin!" + +"Meanin'--?" + +"Just Pippin!" + +"Christian name or surname?" + +"All the name there is!" + +"But Pippin ain't no given name; it's an apple!" + +"That's right! But it's all the name I've got. Fur back as I remember, +Granny Faa called me it, and Dod Bashford called me 'pup' or 'snipe.' +That's all I have to go by, so you see how 'tis!" + +How should you remember anything more, Pippin? You were a baby when +Granny Faa, then still able to travel, living in and out of the tilt +cart which was home to her, found you by the roadside with your dying +mother. The woman was almost past speech. "Don't roof me!" she muttered, +flinging her arms out as the old gypsy lifted her. "Don't roof me!" and +so died. Granny Faa felt no responsibility for the corpse. She rifled +the body methodically, but found nothing of value. The shoes were better +than her own, so she put them on. As for the baby, she took it partly +because it smiled in her face and made something stir in that withered +region where her heart was still alive, but more because her son wished +it. Gypsy Gil (short for Gilbert), bent over the child delightedly; he +snapped his fingers, and the baby crowed and jumped in the withered arms +that held it. "Hell! ain't he a pippin?" said Gil. "Say, kid, ain't you +a pippin?" "Goo!" said the baby. That was all. It was very simple. +During the week Gil had still to live, he was "wrop up," as his mother +said, in the child, and declared twenty times a day, with a new oath +each time, that it was a pippin sure enough. Then, a knife thrust in a +drunken scuffle sent Gil wherever he was to go; but he had named the +baby. The old woman, mourning like a she-wolf, tended the child grimly +because Gil had liked it; called it, for the same reason, by the +name-that-was-no-name which he had given it. It was all simple enough, +you see, had Pippin but known. + +"That's mighty queer!" the brown man ruminated. "I don't know as ever I +heard of any one without two names to him, and yet it sounds all right, +too. Pippin! Well--well, son, I will say you look it. And now, here we +are at the Poor Farm, and I'm goin' in here in my reg'lar way." + +"Poor Farm! is this a Poor Farm?" + +Ever since it came in sight, Pippin had been looking with a lover's eye +at the broad low house of mellow brick, standing back from the road +under its giant elms, its neat garden skirts gathered round it, its +prim, trim gravel path leading to its white steps and green fan-lighted +door. + +"This a Poor Farm!" he repeated. + +"Sure! Jacob Bailey's idea of one, and I wish there was more like it." + +"Jacob Bailey!" cried Pippin. "Why, green grass! Why--why, ain't this +great? He's a gentleman I'm acquainted with; he asked me to come and see +him, and I promised I would. Well, if this ain't a leadin', I never see +one. Mr. Parks, I'm pleased enough at meetin' up with you, just your own +self; but add on your bringin' me here--why, I don't know how to thank +you, sir!" + +"Nothin' at all! nothin' at all!" said Calvin Parks. "I'm just as +pleased myself. Think of your knowin' Jacob! Well! well! He's pure fruit +and cane sugar, Jacob is, not a mite of glucose in his make-up. Here he +comes this minute!" + +Such a welcome as they had! Good Mr. Bailey, coming out to welcome his +old friend, was quite overcome with pleasure and amazement at finding +his new one, too. He had been telling the woman about him ever since +that day, he assured Pippin. Only this morning he had said he wished +that young feller would turn up, and she had said she wished to goodness +he would for there was nothing in the house that would cut except Aunt +Mandy's tongue. + +"One of the inmates!" he explained. "Poor old lady! M' wife was a mite +worked up, and she _is_ cuterin', times when her rheumatism ketches her. +Come in! Come in, the two of ye! Make ye welcome, Pippin, to Cyrus Poor +Farm!" + +He led them through the neat vestibule, through--with a glance of +pride--the chilly splendor of the parlor, with its embossed plush +rockers and lace curtains, into the kitchen. + +"We'll find the woman here!" he said. "Kitchen's home, I always say." + +It was a large, brick-paved room, with four broad windows facing south +and east. Most of one side was taken up by a black cavern of a +fireplace, which sheltered grimly the shining trimness of a modern +cookstove. There was plenty of room for the settles on either side, and +warm though the day was, two or three old people were sitting there, +rubbing their chilly knees and warming their poor old hands. They +looked up, and their faces sharpened into lively curiosity at sight of +the visitors; but the girl who sat at the window never glanced at them, +only crooned to the cat in her lap. The blind man in the corner, weaving +willow baskets, listened, and his face lightened at the sound of the +brown man's voice. + +"Howdy, folks!" he said. "Well, I am a stranger, as you were saying. Say +we have a pep'mint all round, what? Or a marshmallow? Uncle Ammi, I've +got a treat for you, come all the way from Cyrus!" + +While he gossiped cheerily with the old people, a sweet-faced woman came +from an inner room and was introduced by Jacob Bailey as "m' wife." + +"This is the young man I was tellin' you about, Lucy!" he said. "Cur'us +he should happen along to-day, what say?" + +"That's right! Only I should call it providential myself, Jacob. Be +seated, won't you, Mr.--now Jacob told me your name!--Pippin--to be +sure! Be seated, Mr. Pippin. We'll be having supper soon, and you'll set +right down with us, I hope." + +"Thank you, ma'am! If there was some knives I could be sharpenin', to +earn my supper, sort of, I should be tickled to death to stay. Or if +there's anything else you'd rather--what I aim at is to please, you see. +Them scissors the young lady has in her lap don't appear to be what I'd +call real sharp, now." + +Mrs. Bailey laid her hand gently on the girl's fair head. + +"Flora May can't have sharp scissors!" she said. "She's good as gold, +but she's a little wantin', and she might cut off her lovely hair, +mightn't you, Flora?" + +The girl raised a sweet, vacant face. "I might cut off my lovely hair!" +she repeated in a musical singsong. "My lovely, lovely hair! My--" The +quiet hand touched her again, and she was silent. + +"After supper we'll have some singin'!" she said. "Flora May admires to +sing." + +"Does she?" Pippin looked earnestly at the young face, pure and perfect +in form and tint. "It's like a lamp when you've blown it out!" he +thought. + +Now Mrs. Bailey brought an apronful of knives and scissors. Pippin +retreated to the yard where he had left his wheel, and was soon grinding +and singing away, oblivious of all else save flying wheel and shining +steel. Glancing up after a while, he saw all the inhabitants of the Poor +Farm gathered in the doorway, listening; he paid little heed; folks +always listened. That was the way the Lord had given him, to pay folks +for bein' so pleasant to him as they always was. He was real thankful. + +"Look at the aidge on this knife, will you? Hardly you can't tell which +is it, and which is air; see?" + +He broke out into a wild, sweet air: + + "Oh! carry me 'long! + Dar's no more trouble for me. + I's gwine away to a better land, + Where all de niggers am free. + Long, long hab I worked, + I'b handled many a hoe; + I'll turn my eye before I die, + And see de sugar cane grow." + +Something moved near him. He glanced down and saw the girl Flora May. +She had crept nearer and nearer, till now she was almost at his feet. +She sat, or rather crouched, on the ground, graceful as a creature of +the woods, her blue print gown taking the lovely lines of her figure, +her masses of fair hair, neatly braided, wound round and round her head. +Such a pretty head! Just a little too small, poor Flora May! not for +grace, but for other things. Looking at her, Pippin saw, and wondered to +see, the face which he had likened to a dead lamp, now full of light, +the pale cheeks glowing, the red lips parted, the blue eyes shining. + +Yet somehow--what was the matter? They did not shine as other eyes +shone; those brown ones, for instance, of the brown man towering in the +doorway, or the twinkling gray eyes of Jacob Bailey. + +"The lamp's burnin'," said Pippin, "but yet it's went wrong, some ways, +but even so--green grass! she's a pictur!" + +Coming to the end of his song, he smiled and nodded at the upturned +face. + +"Sing more for Flora May!" cried the girl. "Sing more!" + +"Sure!" said Pippin. "Wait till I get a start on this aidge, Miss Flora +May--Now! Here's what'll please you, I expect: + + "Joseph was an old man, + An old man was he; + He married sweet Mary, + The Queen of Galilee. + + "As they went a-walking + In the garden so gay, + Maid Mary spied cherries + Hanging over yon tree. + + "Mary said to cherry tree, + 'Bow down to my knee, + That I may pluck cherries + By one, two, and three.'" + +A long way back to the cellar, and Granny Faa crooning over her black +pot--in her best mood, be sure, or she would not be singing the Cherry +Tree Carol. A far longer way back to an English lane in early summer, +the gypsy tilt halted under a laden cherry tree, the gypsy mother +singing to her little maid as she dangled the cherries over her head. A +long, long road to go, and yet as yesterday, as a watch in the night. + + "O eat your cherries, Mary, + O eat your cherries now, + O eat your cherries, Mary, + That grow upon the bough."-- + +"Now, Mr. Pippin," called Mrs. Bailey from the doorway, "it's plain to +be seen there'll be no supper in this house till you give over singin'. +I'm full loath to ask you to stop, but my cakes have to be eat hot, or +they're no good." + + + + +CHAPTER V + +CYRUS POOR FARM + + +Another lifelong possession for Pippin was that first supper at Cyrus +Poor Farm. "I never forget a good meal!" he was wont to say. "It's one +of the gifts, or so I count it; we've no call to forget 'em, just +because we've eat 'em up. I think about 'em oftentimes, travelin', and +enjoy 'em over again." + +The long table was set in the wide doorway of the shed, "for coolth," +Mrs. Bailey said. All around were piles of fragrant wood, birch and oak, +with here and there a precious little store of apple wood, fruit of +Jacob's thrifty pruning and thinning. The table itself, in the full +light of the westering sun, glowed with many colors: rosy pink of boiled +ham, dull brown of baked potatoes, rich russet of doughnuts, all set off +by the vivid red of the Turkey cotton tablecloth. + +Pippin drew a long breath as he surveyed his plate, heaped with the +solids of this repast, the lighter eatables ranged round it in nappies +shaped like a bird's bath. "Lord, _make_ me thankful!" he ejaculated. +"If I wasn't thankful, Mr. Bailey, sir, I'd ask you to take me by the +scruff and heave me out, I would so!" + +"Well, son, well!" responded Jacob comfortably. "We aim to set a good +table, m' wife an' I; glad it suits you. You see," he added, "we have +advantages over many other institutions. Some of our inmates is payin' +boarders, sir, payin' boarders, and behooves us set palatable food +before 'em. Why, some of us pays as high as two dollars a week, don't +we?" He smiled round the table. Pippin flung a quick glance, saw two +sharp noses proudly lifted, two pairs of eyes gleaming with +satisfaction, while the serene dignity of the blind man's countenance +proclaimed him third of the paying boarders. + +"I've allers paid where I boarded!" said Miss Lucilla Pudgkins. + +"I would scorn to do otherwise!" said Aunt Mandy Whetstone. + +"And others that doesn't pay in money pays in help!" Jacob Bailey went +on calmly; "so you see we're all comfortable! A little more of the ham, +Pippin? Pass your plate!" + +"I don't know," said Pippin, complying, "I don't really know as I ever +eat a ham to compare to this, Mr. Bailey. It's--it's _rich_, that's what +it is!" + +A new voice spoke from the bottom of the table, that of a fat old man +with a game leg. "I claim," he said huskily, as if there were crumbs in +his throat, "that it's the second best ham I've ever ate here." + +"The _third_ best!" said the blind man calmly. "The fire got low on me +one night, and the smoke was checked. We had a ham last year and one +five years ago that was some better than this." + +"Green grass!" ejaculated Pippin in amazement. "Do you mean to tell +me--" + +"We're right proud of Mr. Brand here to the Farm!" said Mrs. Bailey +gently. "Wantin' his sight has give him wonderful powers of smell and +taste--and touch, too. He has smoked our hams and bacon for twenty +years, haven't you, Mr. Brand?" + +"I have, ma'am!" said the blind man proudly. + +"We make good profit out'n 'em," said Jacob. "Far and near, folks wants +our hog p'dooce. Mr. Brand is money in the bank for the Farm and for +himself, too." + +As they left the table, a little cold hand was slipped into Pippin's. + +"Sing!" said the girl. "Please sing for Flora May!" + +"Why, sure!" Pippin was beginning; but Jacob Bailey broke in kindly but +firmly: + +"Not the minute he's finished his supper, he can't sing, Flora May!" he +said. "Beside, I promised old Mr. Blossom to fetch Pippin in to see +him." + +"Old Mr. _who_?" cried Pippin. + +"He said you'd know the name," chuckled Jacob. "This way, Pippin! He's +pretty feeble, the old man is. Keeps his bed mostly, now." + +For one moment Pippin hung back. Another! First Nipper, and now--Old Man +Blossom, too! Old boozer, old snipe! Was he goin' to meet up with these +folks right along, think? Wouldn't he ever get rid of 'em? + +"Shut up! If the Lord can stand 'em, I expect you can!" and Pippin +followed Mr. Bailey into a clean bare little room, where, propped on +pillows, lay a clean old man. He looked eagerly up as Jacob entered. +"You got him with you?" he asked querulously. "You got Pippin? I heard +his voice--" + +"You did, Daddy Blossom!" Pippin advanced and took the hand that was +plucking nervously at the coverlet. "You heard Pippin, and now you see +him! Well! well! And who ever thought of meetin' up with you here, +Daddy? And sick, too! but if I had to _be_ sick, I wouldn't ask no +pleasanter place--" He turned to smile at Jacob Bailey, but Jacob had +disappeared, and the door was closing softly. + +"Pardoned out!" whispered the old man in his weak fretful voice. +"Pardoned out, 'count of age and sickness. I ain't a well man, Pippin; +my vitals is all perished; but that ain't what I want to say. I want you +to help me! Say you'll help me, Pippin! I was always friends with you +over There--" he nodded vaguely--"and now I'm old and sick, you'll help +me, won't you?" + +"Sure!" Pippin drew a stool beside the bed and sat down. "Put a name to +it, Old Man! What can I do for you?" + +"Find my little gal, Pippin, my Mary: you rec'lect her? Sure you do! She +used to bring me candy, and poke it in betwixt the bars with her little +hand--flowers too, she'd bring: sure you rec'lect little Mary, Pippin?" + +Pippin did not, but there was no need of saying so. + +"What about her, Old Man?" + +"I want her! I ain't a well man, nor yet I ain't goin' to be well, and I +want my little gal; I want you to find her, Pippin, and bring her to +me." + +"Sure!" said Pippin comfortably. "Where would I be likely--" + +"I don't know!" cried the old man wildly. "That--" he gave a brief and +vivid sketch of his wife's character--a wholly inaccurate sketch--"never +would tell me where she sent her. She died herself, and a good job, too, +and she sent word to me that Mary was well and doin' well, but now she'd +got shet of me she was goin' to keep her shet. Now what a way that was +to talk to a father! If little Mary knowed where I was, she'd come like +a shot, but she don't know, nor I don't know--You find her, Pippin! You +rec'let the little gal: you'll find her, won't you?" + +"Sure!" said Pippin. For some moments he sat absently, running his +fingers through his brown curls. Taking out the little file, he +considered it unseeingly, tried to whistle a tune on it, and failing, +returned it to its hiding place. Then, waking from his reverie, he put +the old man through a sharp examination. The answers were feeble and +uncertain, but he learned something. Eighteen year old, or mighty nigh +it. Yes, red hair, or--naw! it might be darker by now, like her ma's +was; color of--there! 'member old Mis' Jennings that lived just over the +way from There? Well, sir, she had a heifer, kind o' red brown, like a +hoss chestnut when you break it open; and her skin the white of one, +too, kind o' soft and creamy; and her eyes like her'n too (the heifer's, +Old Man Blossom meant), big and soft and blue with a kind of brown in +'em too--there! he'd know her, Pippin would, by the dimple right corner +of her little mouth. Cur'us thing that was. When she wasn't more than a +baby, 'bout two year old, he gave her a little sunshade--she see her +Ma's and hollered for it, and he said she should have one of her own; +pink it was, and she carried it like the Lady of the Land, sir. But +bimeby she tumbles down, and the p'int of it went right through her +cheek. That's right; instead of a scar, it made a dimple, paint him sky +blue striped if it didn't. Prettiest little gal--hair would curl round +your finger like 'twas a stick-- + +The whisper broke into crying, and Pippin had to soothe him and sing +"The Factor's Lady, or the Turkish Garland," all through to restore +tranquillity. But when Pippin rose to go, the old man clutched him with +trembling fingers. + +"Whisper!" he said. "Whisper, Pippin! The way you go to work--the way +I'd go to work if I wasn't perished in my vitals"--he consigned his +vitals to a warm region--"is, take Brand along!" + +"Brand?" repeated Pippin. + +"The blind man! he has eyes in his fingers. He can--he can tell the way +the wind blew yesterday by feelin' of it to-day. If I'd had Brand I'd +never been nabbed, and I'd be rollin' in gold to-day, and goin' in my +automobile to find my little gal. But you get Brand along, Pippin! talk +him round first, he's never been in the sportin' line, but--" + +"Hold on! hold on!" Pippin loosed the clutching hands gently, and laid +the poor old sinner, still gasping and whispering back on the pillow. +"Old Man, you're makin' one big mistake. I'm not in the line any more; I +guess not!" He threw back his head and laughed joyously. "You didn't +know I found the Lord, did you? Well, I have, and there's no more sport +in mine. But--I'll tell you! I'm runnin' a wheel at present, +knife-grindin', you know. Why--I've got Nipper's wheel! Nipper was a pal +of yours, wasn't he?" + +"Nipper's wheel? Where's Nipper? Is he here?" + +"He's dead, and before he went he gave me his wheel. It's a real +handy--what now?" + +He paused, for the old man, after staring at him a moment, broke into a +fit of cackling, wheezing laughter. + +"Nipper's wheel!" he gasped. "He's got Nipper's wheel, and he's found +the Lord, and he isn't in the line no more! Gorry to hemlock, this is +rich! You took me in complete, Pippin, you did so! Go on! You're all +right!" + +He grew purple in the face, and his eyes rolled. Pippin stepped to the +door. + +"Mr. or Mrs. Bailey!" he called quietly. "Mr. Blossom is having a fit!" + +Mrs. Bailey, hastening in, surveyed the situation with practised eyes; +lifted the patient, thumped his back gently, administered remedies, +enjoined silence. + +"You've ben talkin' too much, Mr. Blossom; it always brings on a spasm, +and you hadn't ought to. Now lay down and take a nap, that's a good +soul." + +Obeying a glance of her kind gray eyes, Pippin slipped out, leaving the +old man still gasping and gurgling. Many more of them kind, Pippin +reflected, would carry the old geezer off, sure thing. He was on the +blink, no two ways to that. "Loony too! Hear him laffin' fit to bust +when I told him Nipper was dead! Now what do you know about that? That's +loony, you see, that is! Behooves me find that little gal pooty quick if +I'm goin' to find her. And how--in--Moses' meal-chist--am I goin' to +find her?" + +Pondering deeply, he went back into the kitchen. The table had been +cleared and covered with its decent between-meals cloth of red and white +check; beside it, facing the door, sat Miss Amanda Whetstone and Miss +Lucilla Pudgkins, diligently mending stockings. These ladies, as has +been seen, were paying boarders, and "demeaned themselves accordin'," as +they would have said. They helped Mrs. Bailey in housework, mending, +etc., but always with a touch of condescension and the understanding +that it was "to accommodate." In person they were well contrasted. Miss +Whetstone was a thin active little woman, with eyes like black glass and +thin lips puckered in a sub-acid smile. She was always neat as wax, in +dresses of black and white striped print, the lines so near together +that they seemed to waver constantly. ("Throw her away!" Flora May often +besought her "Uncle Bailey." "Please throw her away! She dazzles!") But +every one knew Aunt Mandy had a black silk in her trunk, and a tatting +collar that the minister's wife might have been glad to possess. + +Miss Lucilla Pudgkins was billowy in figure and was addicted to purple +print, with a string tied round the middle to show that she knew where +the waist line ought to be. Her face might have been made by a clever +boy out of a large red apple; and if Aunt Mandy's eyes were like glass, +Miss Lucilla's were like china, two blue china buttons plumped into the +red, on either side of the queerest button of a nose that ever was seen, +Pippin thought. She wore a rather pathetic "front," which was seldom +quite straight; in fact, she was a pathetic figure altogether, poor Miss +Lucilla, but she did not know it, so all was well. She never forgot that +at sixteen she had been Queen of the May at a Sunday school festival, +and her trunk still held, under the scanty stock of petticoats and +aprons, the white muslin frock of her great day. Miss Lucilla was a +little greedy, and somewhat foolish, though not so foolish as Aunt Mandy +thought her; the attitude of the two towards each other was usually an +armed truce, except on occasions of general conflict, when they never +failed to combine against the common enemy--usually Mr. Wisk, the fat +man, who was greedy too. + +The two ladies looked up eagerly as Pippin entered. How was Mr. Blossom? +Miss Whetstone asked. He sounded something awful. Was it the death +spasm, did Mr. Pippin think? They had been expecting it any day, and +wishing his folks would come. Wasn't it awful? + +"He's all right!" Pippin reassured her. "Choked up a bit, but Mis' +Bailey knows how to handle him. He'll rest easy now, poor old skeezicks. +How long has he ben this way, ladies?" + +"Sit down, do, Mr. Pippin!" Miss Whetstone hastened to make room for him +beside her. "That cheer is comfortable; set right down, now do so! He +has been having those spasms ever since he come, a month and more ago, +but none so bad as this. Be you kin to him?" + +"Me? Not much!" Pippin shook his head vigorously. + +"I only asked because one likes to know, you know, about the folks one +has to associate with. Of course you can keep yourself to yourself, and +oftentimes so do, but any one ought to be sociable when they can, I +claim." + +"Sure thing!" murmured Pippin absently, his eyes glancing over the +speaker's head to where Flora May sat rocking in her corner, her hands +folded in her lap, her eyes fixed on him with a curious intentness. She +seemed to be calling him, he thought, though she made no sound. He +nodded, with a friendly glance which said "Presently!" Impossible to go +at this moment, for Miss Whetstone evidently had more to say. She was +bridling, and making little clucking noises in her throat, expressive +(to herself, at least), of delicacy of feeling. Now speech came, +preluded by a genteel titter, and accompanied by a glance round the +room, which took in the blind man quietly whittling splints in his own +special corner, and Flora May, rocking by the window, the latter with a +compassionate depreciatory shrug of Miss Whetstone's shoulders. + +"We aim to be as select here as circumstances allow," said the lady. "Of +course it is a town institution, I am well aware of that; but Cyrus is a +select neighborhood, and there's no one feels any call to take boarders +_except_ Mr. Bailey. You can see for yourself how it is, Mr. Pippin. The +house is large and his own family small. He is well connected, Jacob is; +his mother was own cousin to mine, and so--we thought, me and Miss +Pudgkins, we'd like you to understand just how we come to be here. Not +but what we could of went anywhere we pleased, if we _had_ pleased!" + +Pippin was aware of a certain wistfulness in the two pairs of eyes fixed +on him. Now wouldn't that give you a pain? Poor old ladies! + +"I bet you could, ma'am!" he responded heartily. "I expect you could +pass all your time visitin' round, and find your welcome runnin' ahead +of you like a houn' dog. But if you searched the country over, I bet you +wouldn't find as pleasant a place as this. You show your taste, is what +I would say." + +The wistful eyes brightened as they exchanged glances. There was a point +to make with this young man; it had to be made with every newcomer. +People _must_ know that they were here for convenience' sake, and that +alone! + +"I knew he would understand!" cried Miss Pudgkins. "He has that way. I +see it first thing. And bein' as it is, Mr. Pippin, we try to keep up +the _tone_, you see. Now Mr. Blossom--you say he's no kin to you? Well, +to speak my mind--and Miss Whetstone holds with me--Mr. Blossom is _not_ +just the kind Cyrus folks is accustomed to. Has he--has he led a good +life, are you aware?" + +Pippin smiled at her. "Well, no, lady, he ain't; not exactly to call it +_good_, you know; not what _you_ would call good, though there never was +as much harm in the Old Man as in lots of others. But anyway," he added, +"he's on the blink now, you see, liable to croak 'most any day, I should +judge, so it don't so much matter, does it?" + +"Liable to--I beg your pardon?" + +"I beg yours. No expression to use to ladies. Pass away is what I would +say. I expect his trick is about up, what say? Dandy place to pass away +in, too, when your time's come. Excuse me, ladies, I see Mr. Bailey--" + +Pippin saw also his opportunity of escape, and with a little bow of +apology, and appreciation, slipped out of the door, thinking to join his +host who had just walked past it. But Jacob Bailey had already +disappeared in the shed, and it was Flora May's turn. She had followed +Pippin, and now stood before him, looking up at him with clear, lovely, +empty eyes: empty, yet with that curious shining intentness he had +noticed before. + +"Sing now for Flora May!" said the girl. + +"I will!" Pippin assured her. "Just the moment Mrs. Bailey gets through +with Mr. Blossom, we'll have us a reg'lar singsong, we will so. Real +fond of singin', ain't you, Miss Flora May? Say, that's a dandy necklace +you have on! Them beads are carved elegant, they sure are." + +Flora May lifted the beads and glanced carelessly at them. They were of +some hard nut wood, each one adorned with flowers and fruit in delicate +carving: a pretty ornament enough. + +"Uncle Brand made them for me," she said. "Take them!" She had slipped +the necklace off and was pressing it into Pippin's hand. He took it and +examined it admiringly, then put it gently back over the girl's head. + +"I thank you a thousand times!" he said. "I couldn't wear 'em myself, +not travelin' like I am, you see, and I like to see 'em round your neck, +they look so pretty. It's young ladies ought to wear joolry, you know." + +He smiled at her, but her eyes met his anxiously. + +"You are not goin' away?" said the girl. "You are goin' to stay? I'll +give you my eagle feathers if you will stay. I'm tired of the folks +here." + +"Now what a way that is to talk! You're just jokin' though, I see. It +_would_ be a joke if you was tired of Mr. and Mrs. Bailey, wouldn't it +now?" + +"I'll give you the white duck, if you'll stay!" she went on in her sweet +monotonous voice, which yet was strangely eager. "Uncle Bailey gave it +to me, it's mine. I'll give you everything I've got if you'll stay." + +At this moment, to Pippin's infinite relief, Mr. Bailey emerged from the +shed. He laid his hand on the girl's shoulder; instantly her whole form +relaxed and she drooped into her customary attitude of listless +indifference. + +"Anything wrong, little gal?" asked Jacob Bailey, kindly. Flora May +shook her head and turned away with a pettish movement of her shoulders. + +"She was wantin' me to sing for her," said Pippin. "I will, too, Mr. +Bailey, sir, soon as ever you and Mis' Bailey are ready. I don't mean to +brag of my singin', don't you think that, but it's what has ben give me, +and about all I have to give when folks is so dandy to me as what you +folks have been here. So if agreeable, sir, say the word and I'll tune +up!" + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +PIPPIN SINGS FOR HIS SUPPER + + +So Pippin sang for his supper, a grateful Tommy Tucker; and the imbecile +girl sat at his feet and listened, rocking to and fro, her lovely face +so full of joy that it was almost--almost-- + +He sang about the Young Lady who went a-hunting with her dog and her +gun, and about poor bonny sweet Bessie, the Flower of Dundee, and +"Silver Threads among the Gold," which made Mrs. Bailey cry and Jacob +blow his nose loudly. He was about to give them "Nancy Lee," but checked +suddenly. Was he forgetting the Lord, after that elegant supper? Now +wouldn't that give you a pain? + +"_That's right!_" Pippin spoke so suddenly that everybody started. +"Excuse _me_!" he said hastily. "I was thinkin'--leastways I wa'n't +thinkin'--well, it don't signify whichever way of it, but if agreeable, +I will praise the Lord a spell!" + +A murmur of approval greeted him. Mrs. Bailey's kind face lighted up. + +"That will surely be a treat!" she cried. "And--oh, Mr. Pippin, wait one +moment! If you don't mind standing in the doorway of old Mr. Blossom's +room, so he can hear you? He's real quiet now, and I'm sure 'twill do +him good--" + +So Pippin stood in the doorway, and threw back his head and sang with +all his heart and soul: + + "When I can read my title clear + To mansions in the skies, + I'll bid farewell to every fear, + And wipe my weeping eyes." + +This hymn is left out of many hymn books nowadays; it is old-fashioned, +and some of its lines are patently absurd: but I wish the hymnologists +could hear Pippin sing it. His voice goes soaring up, a golden trump of +victory and triumph: + + "There shall I bathe my weary soul + In seas of heavenly rest; + And not a wave of trouble roll + Across my peaceful breast." + +As he finished, he swung round, his eyes blazing, every inch of him +a-thrill. "Old man," he cried, and the passion in his voice made them +all start. "Don't you feel it? Don't you feel somethin' crinklin' all +through you, like sap in a sugar maple? That's the grace of God, Old +man; let her run! Oh, Lord, let her run!" + +There was a moment's silence; then Mr. Blossom snickered. It is not a +pretty word, but then it was not a pretty sound. + +Pippin was at his side in an instant, his eyes ablaze again, but with a +very different light. + +"You old skunk!" he cried, gripping the bony shoulders hunched below the +leering face. "You darned old son of a broken whisky jug, you dare to +snicker before the Lord? For half a quarter of a cent I'd wring your +rooster's neck for you, you--" + +He stopped, as if somebody had touched him. His head drooped, his arms +dropped by his side, and he flushed scarlet from throat to forehead. He +stood so for several minutes, no one stirring; then he turned humbly to +Jacob Bailey. + +"I ask your pardon, sir, and the company's. I lost holt of myself. +There! I am fairly ashamed." He leaned over the poor old sinner, who was +still gasping from the sudden onslaught. "Hurt you, did I, Old Man? I +ask your pardon, too, I do so. Lemme h'ist you a mite!" + +With anxious care he raised the shrunken figure and settled the pillows +under the palsied head. + +"There! That comfy, old geezer? Now you go to sleep! I was a mutt to +shake you up that way. Goo' night, Old Man!" + + * * * * * + +Sitting on his neat bed an hour later, Pippin dealt with himself, as +judge with criminal. His vivid fancy saw himself as two distinct beings, +one arraigning, the other replying. He desired to know whether he, +Pippin, thought he was all creation? Because if so, he took leave to +tell him he wasn't, nor anything approachin' it. Reassured on this +point, he further observed that perhaps on the whole it might be best +for him to go back to Shoreham. Most likely he wasn't prepared yet to +live among Christian folks; say he was to go back for another year till +he'd learned to hold his tongue and keep his temper! How would he like +that? + +"Well, then, you behave! If you're a Christian, show up, that's what I +say. What was it you promised Elder Hadley? To look for the grace of God +in every one you see, wasn't it? Well, then! _Did_ you look for it in +Old Man Blossom?" + +"Why, sure! Didn't I sing, and pray, and all? I couldn't find no grace, +not a mite, so help me!" + +Silence; the outward man sitting with bent head and knotted brows, the +inner--both of him--wrestling with a problem. At last the brows cleared, +the head lifted. + +"Bonehead!" said Pippin. "You didn't look in the right place. Prayin' +an' singin' wasn't his kind, no more than they were a dumb critter's. +Didn't he want his little gal, want her real bad? Wasn't that mebbe the +way grace took him? I expect the Lord has as many ways as there is +folks." + +Finally Pippin concluded that he would do well to say his prayers and go +to bed and let the Lord run things a spell, as He was full able to do. +And start off next morning, sure thing, or the Boss would think he had +cut. Gee! he hated to leave this place! + + * * * * * + +"I don't see how you do it!" said Pippin. "Gorry to 'Liza, Mr. Brand, I +don't see _how_ you do it!" + +Brand was making a broom; Pippin, smoking his after-breakfast and +before-departure pipe in the barn doorway, watched him with growing +wonder and admiration. His fingers seemed almost to twinkle, they moved +so fast, knotting, laying together, binding in the fragrant strands of +broom corn. + +"I've made many a broom!" Pippin went on. "I was counted a crackerjack +at bindin'; but you work twice as fast blind as what I would seein'; +that's what gets me!" + +The blind man raised his head with a smile, his hands never ceasing +their swift motion. + +"I sometimes think seeing folks don't have half a chance at broom-making +and like that," he said. "There's so many things to take their minds +off. Now, take this minute of time. There's a cloud passing over the +sun, isn't there?" + +"Why, yes!" Pippin looked up involuntarily, shifting his position a +little to do so. "Yes, sir, there is. Now how--" + +"And you had to look up to see it!" the blind man went on, calmly. "That +takes time and attention. Now I _feel_ the cloud, and that's all there +is to it. There are some advantages in being blind; born blind, that +is." + +Pippin gave him a helpless look. His eyes wandered over the scene before +him: the wide, sunny barnyard, the neat buildings, the trim garden +spaces, the green, whispering trees; beyond them the white ribbon of the +road, and wave upon wave of fair rolling country, sinking gradually to +where the river flowed between its darkly wooded banks; overhead a sky +of dazzling blue flecked with cloudlets of no less dazzling white. There +was a hawk hovering over the chicken yard. Pippin picked up a stone and +threw it at the bird, which vanished with a shrill scream. His eyes came +back to the figure in the doorway, with bent head and flying fingers. + +"Advantages?" he repeated, and his tone was as helpless as his look had +been. "Well, you get me, Mr. Brand, every time. You--you was born blind, +sir, do I understand?" + +Brand nodded. "Sixty years ago this month. When I say advantages, I +don't mean I would have chose--" he made a slight, eloquent gesture +toward the clear, sightless eyes. "But since so it is, one looks at it +from that end, you see, and one finds--advantages. For one thing, +changes don't trouble a born-blind man as they do seeing folks. I hear +talk about this person looking poorly, and that one having gone gray, +and lost his teeth, and like that; that don't trouble me, you see, not a +mite. Folks look to me just as they sound. Now take our folks +here--Lucy--I would say Mrs. Bailey--and Jacob: well, their voices tell +me what they are like, see? They called Lucy handsome when she was a +girl; she's just as handsome to me as she was then." + +There was a wistful note in his voice, and Pippin responded instantly. + +"She's a fine-appearin' lady, now!" he said heartily. "She sure is." + +"I presume likely!" said Brand. "She'd have to be, being what she is. +When Lucy first grew up, I made a--a picture (so to say! I never saw a +picture) of her in my mind, and I see it as clear to-day as I did then." + +He was silent for a time, then went on, in an altered tone: "Then +there's other things, things that seeing folks don't have. Take hearing. +I hear twice what most folks do, and I hear things no seeing person +_can_ hear; undertones, our music teacher called them, and overtones, +too. Now, you hear a woman's dress rustle, and that's all, isn't it?" + +"Ye-yes!" Pippin replied. "That is--I can tell a silk rustle from a +calico, and a woolen from either." + +"Well, that is more than many men can do. Women, of course; but not many +men without training." The blind man leaned forward, and felt carefully +of Pippin's ear. "A good ear!" he nodded approvingly. "An excellent good +ear! There's many hold that the outer ear has nothing to do with +hearing, but I don't know! I don't know! The Doctor told me of a king +who wanted to know everything that was said in his house--palace, +like!--and he built it in the shape of an ear. Long ago, Doctor said it +was, and he didn't say he believed it, but I've often wondered. But +you've had training, too; you've learned how to listen, which is more +than some folks learn all their lives long." + +"You bet I had training!" + +Not a vision this time, though a dim, brutal figure lurks in the +background; not a vision, but a sound! + +"Listen! listen, you cursed pup, or I'll cut your heart out. My ears are +thick to-night. Is that a cop's whistle, or a pal's? If you get it +wrong, I'll make you sweat blood--" + +"Yes, I had training!" said Pippin. + +"Then--" Brand's face was fairly glowing as he turned it on his young +visitor. It was not often that he could speak of his blindness, but +there was something about this boy that seemed to draw speech from him +like a magnet. "Then--there's the other senses; smell--why, what +wonderful pleasure I have in a delicate smell! Whether it's a flower, or +my bacon when it's smoked just to the fine point, or--why, take smoke +alone, all the various kinds of it! Wood smoke, and good tobacco, and +leaves burning in the fall of the year, and brush fires in spring! And +there's herbs, southernwood, mint, lemon balm--wonderful pleasure in +odors, yes, sir! And when you come to touch, why there's where a blind +man has it over a seeing, almost every time. The pleasure of touching a +leaf of mullein, say, or soft hair like the little gal's--Flora May's, I +would say--or a fruit, or a baby's cheek--wonderful pleasure! I wonder +are your fingers as good as your ears? Let me see!" He held out his +hand, and Pippin laid his own in it. + +How proud you were of your hands, Pippin! How you used to boast that +your fingers needed no sandpaper to sharpen their exquisite touch! Is +that why you hang your head, and the blood creeps up to the roots of +your hair? + +"If he's let to live," a husky voice murmurs, "he'll make a ---- ---- +good un; but I ain't certain but I'll wring his neck yet. There's things +about him ain't right!" + +Perfectly consistent, Mr. Bashford, and wholly correct from your point +of view! + +"A fine hand!" says David Brand. "Strong and yet delicate. You can do a +great deal with that hand, young man. Why, with that, and your fine +ears, you--why--" he laughs his cheery laugh--"I won't go so far as say +you'd ought to have been born blind, but you surely would make a +first-rate blind man!" + +Pippin puffed at his pipe meditatively for a few minutes, considering +the serene face and the flying fingers. What a face it was! the calm, +thoughtful brow, the well-cut features, the clear eyes, the patient +look--well, there! If an Angel could be old--that is to say, gettin' on +in years--and blind, this would sure be him! Now--come to see a face +like this, you know the Lord has ben there: _is_ there, right along, +same as the devil was with Dod and Nosey and them. Do a person good, +now, to hear what he has to tell, how the Lord has dealt with him, what +say? He couldn't more than say no, if-- + +"Mr. Brand!" Pippin spoke timidly, yet eagerly. "You'll excuse me--but +when I like folks, I like to know about 'em; what they've no objection +to tellin' is what I would say. You must have a lot that's real +interestin'--I hope no offense!" he ended lamely. + +"None in the world!" Brand laughed cheerily. "Quite the other way, young +man. Old folks don't always find young ones that care to hear their old +stories. I should be pleased--find a seat, won't you? I haven't much to +tell, but you're welcome to what there is!" + +Pippin curled his long legs up on the floor, his back against the door +jamb. "This is great!" he murmured. "This certainly is great. I'd ought +to be gettin' on, but I don't care. Now if you're ready, Mr. Brand!" + +Brand reached for a pile of straws, measured, clipped, laid them in +orderly piles ready for binding in. + +"I was born in Cyrus," he said; "born and raised. I was the only child, +and my parents did everything they could for me. I was a happy youngster +and had reason to be. Everybody was good to me; Cyrus is a good, kind +neighborly place. Yes, sir, I was a happy boy. Always singing and +laughing; I recollect hearing folks say, 'Poor child!' or like that when +they came to see mother. I used to wonder what poor child they meant. I +asked Lucy one day--Lucy Allen, that's Mrs. Bailey now; we lived next +door, and played together always, her and Jacob and me. I says, 'Lucy, +who are they always saying "Poor child!" about? Is it you?' And Lucy +says, 'I wouldn't wonder, Dave! My front teeth has come out, and I am a +sight.' Little girl seven years old: she was that thoughtful always, +Lucy was. She was doing me good turns every day and all day when we was +little: once, I remember, I had a chance to do her one. We was playing +together in Uncle Ivory Cheeseman's candy kitchen--he give us the run of +it, Lucy and Jacob and me, because he could trust us, he said; he was a +kind old man, though crusty where crust was needed. Well, we was playing +there, and Lucy went too near the stove and her dress caught fire. I +smelled it before it begun to blaze, and caught it in my two hands and +squeezed it out. 'Twas a calico skirt; another minute and 'twould have +been in a blaze." + +Brand paused, and Pippin looked up inquiringly. + +"I've always been thankful for that!" said Brand. "There was a girl at +the Institution who lost her sight by burning, just that way, her skirt +catching at the stove." + +"Now wouldn't that give you a pain?" murmured Pippin. "I know what +burnin' feels like, just a mite of it. Not meanin' to interrupt, Mr. +Brand; I'm just as interested!" + +"When I was ten years old, mother died, and father sent me to the Blind +Institution. I was there many years, and there I learned all I +know--except what I learned before or since!" Brand added with a +whimsical smile. "That puts me in mind of the first--no, the second--day +I was there. I was to see the Doctor, the head of the Institution--he +was away the day I came--and I was left alone in his office to wait for +him. I was always keen to see what kind of place I was in, so I was +moving about the room, finding out in my own way, when the door opened +and two men came in. One of them was tall--what say?" + +"Now! now!" cried Pippin. "How in the airthly did you know he was tall?" + +"His voice was high up! That's an easy one, Pippin. Why, _you_ would +know that, with those good ears. He was speaking, and the first sound of +that voice stays by me yet. A _master_ voice! I've never forgot the +words either. 'The first lesson--the hard lesson--you have first to +learn is--_to be blind_--to live in the world without light--to look +upon your life as still a blessing and a trust, and to resolve to spend +it well and cheerfully, in the service of your Maker and for the +happiness of those about you.'"[1] + + [1] Dr. S.G. Howe to one of his blind pupils. + +He paused. Pippin sat spellbound, gazing at the face that was indeed now +as the face of an angel. + +"The service of your Maker, and the happiness--" he murmured. "Say, +that's great! It--it sounds like a song, don't it, Mr. Brand? Or--like +Psalms, some way of it! I'd like to learn them words off by heart, sir, +if no objection." + +"He was a great man!" said Brand reverently. "A great and good man. As +he spoke, so he lived, for his Maker and his fellow men. The man he +spoke to gave a kind of groan, I remember; he had just lost his sight--a +gun that wasn't loaded, the old story! Then the Doctor said a little +more, comforting him like, and then he saw me. I had felt all round the +room, and now I had my fingers on a raised map that hung on the wall. I +had heard of such things and was pleased to death to get hold of one. I +suppose it showed in my face, for the Doctor said, 'Here's a little +fellow who already knows how to be blind! Come here, my son!' I went +straight to him--his voice led me, you understand: I could always follow +a voice, from the time I learned to walk. He laid his hand on my head +and turned my face up, studying me. I knew that; I felt his eyes, is the +only way I can put it. 'Born blind, weren't you, my boy?' he said. +'Twasn't often the Doctor had to be told anything about blind folks--or +seeing either, for that matter. Well, sir, that was the beginning of +life for me, in a way. I got my education there. 'Twas a happy place, +and a happy life. I could tell about it from now till sundown, and not +fairly make a beginning. The Doctor was my friend; everybody was my +friend. I was quick, and I wanted to learn; and, too, there was a good +deal I didn't have to learn, being born blind, you see. There's a +passage in the Bible about remembering that 'he was born thus'; I used +to think--" + +A silence fell, while Brand counted strands, Pippin watching him +eagerly. A black hen who had been watching, too, her head cocked, her +bright yellow eye fixed on the blind man with the false air of +intelligence affected by hens, came up with a quick, rocking step, and +uttered a long, reflective "crawk!" scratching meanwhile on the barn +floor. + +"Hicketty Picketty wants some corn!" said Brand. "Here, Picketty!" He +took a handful of corn from a bag and scattered it. The black hen pecked +vigorously, trying to get every grain swallowed before any one else +should come; but the motion of Brand's hand brought other hens +fluttering, squawking, jostling, to get their share, and there was quite +a scrimmage before he could resume his work. + +"I spoil that hen!" he said apologetically. "Jacob says I oughtn't, and +it's true; but she has such a way with her! There's no other hen I'm so +partial to, though I love them all. + +"Well! Want to hear any more, or are you tired of listening? 'Tisn't +much of a story; I warned you in the beginning." + +"Tired? Well, I guess nix! Why, I'm--why, it's _great_, Mr. Brand! I'm +learnin' something 'most every word you say. Do go on, sir--if I'm not +troublin' you!" + +"I don't know as there is so very much more to tell, after all. A man's +life goes on steady; there don't things keep happening right along, as +they do in stories. I've had a quiet life, but a real pleasant one. I +stayed on at the Institution quite a spell after I grew up, teaching in +the shop. Basketry is what I taught; I liked it best, and was good at +it. Then, along when I was thirty years old, father needed me, and I +came home. He was getting on in years, and he needed some one, and I was +the one. His housekeeper got married, and I was handy about the house. +Yes, we made out to do well, father and I, as long as he lived. Spare +time and evenings, I'd make brooms and baskets, and the neighbors took +all I could make. Sometimes I'd make a trip round other places, same as +you do with your wheel, Pippin. I liked that real well. Lucy and Jacob +had married by that time--I always knew they would! I--yes, I always +knew they would, and right and fitting it was. Jacob's folks had passed +on, and he and Lucy lived there next door to us, and was like brother +and sister to me, as they always had been. Cyrus is a pleasant place; +yes, sir, we've all been happy, only when Lucy lost her little +David--named for me, yes, and like my own to me. That was a grief, but +grief is part of our lot. Lucy mourned so, Jacob was desirous of making +a change for her, and about that time they was changing here, too, and +the selectmen beseeched Jacob and Lucy to take the place, and they did. +They wanted me to come with them then, but I wouldn't leave father. +Bimeby, though, father passed on, and then--I didn't make up my mind +right away to the change. I didn't want to be a care to Lucy, and I +thought I could get on by myself, and I _could_; but--well--no need to +go into that. Along about ten years back I come to make my home here +with my good friends, and I've never regretted, nor I hope they +haven't." + +"No need to go into that!" Quite right, Brand. Impossible for you, +being what you are, to tell of the various persons, male and female, who +saw your comfortable cottage and few but fertile acres, and "felt a call +to do for you." Lucy Bailey sometimes spoke of it to her husband with +amused indignation. "Fairly driven out of his home, David was! The idea! +Lucky we had one to offer him, or he'd have been saddled with the whole +passel of them, like Cap'n Parks was a while back, and no Mercy Lovely +to trim 'em out for him." + +A doleful squeak was heard, and a wheelbarrow trundled slowly by with +Mr. Wisk as the motive power. "You'd think 'twould go faster by itself!" +Pippin thought; then reproached himself, the man being afflicted. +Brand's fine brows contracted as he listened to the squeak. + +"Wisk has been promising to oil that exe for a month!" he said. "It +gives me the toothache to hear it." + +"Moves kinder moderate, don't he?" said Pippin. "I s'pose his leg +henders him." + +Brand laughed. "I don't--know! Aunt Mandy Whetstone says the lame leg +makes the better time of the two. She's small and spry, you know, and +Wisk gets in her way sometimes. He means all right, but he never feels +any call to hurry, that I know of." + +Here Mr. Wisk, having given up the wheelbarrow as a bad job, came +hobbling up, and with a wheeze by way of greeting, planted his shoulders +against the door-jamb. "Nice mornin'!" he said. + +"Great!" replied Pippin. "It surely is great! I'd oughter ben on the +road an hour ago, but Mr. Brand makes it hard to get away, now I tell +ye. I must go in and say good-by to the folks, and then I'm off. Mr. +Brand, I thank you a thousand times for all you've told me, and you may +be sure I shan't forget it, no, sir! You'll see me again pretty soon. I +shan't be able to keep away from this place more'n just about so long, I +see that plain. Good-by, sir!" + +They shook hands warmly, the blind man urging him to come sooner and +stay longer every time he could. + +"Good-by to you, too, Mister." Pippin turned to the lame man. + +"I'm goin' into the house!" said the latter. "I'll step along with you. +I want a drink o' water!" + +He stumped along beside Pippin. Out of earshot of the barn, he looked +back over his shoulder. "Or a drink of something!" he added. "Got a drop +about you, young feller?" + +"No, I ain't!" said Pippin shortly. He was not drawn toward Mr. Wisk. + +"I thought you might have. I'm orful dry, and the water here don't agree +with me. Say! Brand ain't the only one is afflicted, young man. I want +you should understand that. My limb pains me something fierce; very +close veins is what I have. You wouldn't find me in no such place as +this if I didn't. Brand's a stand-offish kind of cuss, but he don't +measure up so much higher than other folks as what he thinks, mebbe. +They make of him because he's blind, but I'll bet a dollar he don't +suffer nights the way I do. Got a mite of tobacker to spare? Ain't? When +I was in trade--I was a tin-knocker while I had my health--I allers made +out to have a drop and a chew for a gen'leman when he asked for it; it +helped trade. I was allers called a good feller. Well, so long! Call +again!" + +Pippin took an affectionate leave of the inmates of Cyrus Poor Farm. +They would see him again, he assured them heartily; no fears but they +would. All he had to do was say good-by to the Kingdom folks--for a +spell. _They'd_ see him again, too. Elegant folks!--and go find that +little gal, or young woman, or whatever she was, and then just watch him +make a bee line for Cyrus! Yes, sir! He would bring back that gal, sure +thing! And he would bring Mr. Brand some of that new basket stuff he'd +heard tell of. + +"Yes, ma'am!" as he shook hands with Miss Lucilla Pudgkins. "You shall +have some perfoomery, the best I can lay hands on. And you shall have +them buttons, Miss Whetstone, if they are to be had. And Miss Flora May +shall--" + +He looked about the room, but the girl was not there. + +"She's out some place," said Mrs. Bailey. "Feeding the hens, I presume +likely. I'll tell her good-by for you, Pippin!" + +He shook hands with Old Man Blossom, who was only too eager to be +friends. "I'm all friends, Pippin!" he cried in eager, quavering tones. +"Honest I am! You find my little gal, and you can pray yourself black in +the face and I won't say a word. It just took me that way, you know; you +prayin' as slick as a Gospel shark, and Nipper's wheel out in the shed +all the time--tee hee! You're smart, Pippin! Ain't any pious goin' to +get round you, hey? 'Tother way round, hey? Gorry! that is rich!" + +He grew purple, and the bed shook under him. + +"Hold on there!" said Pippin. "Don't you go and have another on me. I'm +goin'." And he bolted. + +"I'm comin' out to the gate with you!" said Jacob. "Take a look at the +stock as you go?" + +Pippin nodded gravely. The two went out together to the great barn, +fragrant with hay; patted the sleek farm horses, rubbed the noses of +the calves. Jacob pointed out briefly the merits of each animal; Pippin +responded with suitable encomiums. Both men were absent and constrained. +It was not till they reached the gate that Jacob Bailey spoke out. +Leaning against a post, he drew out his jack knife, looked about for a +stick, and finding one, began to whittle. + +"Well!" he said at length. "So you found your way here. How do you +like?" + +"First-rate!" said Pippin. "I never saw a place I liked so well." + +Jacob whistled "Yankee Doodle" (his one tune) carefully through; then-- + +"How about comin' back?" he said. And as Pippin was about to speak, "I +mean comin' to stay! There now, I've out with it," he added. "Here it +is! Me and m' wife have took a liking to you, and so has all the +inmates. I never saw 'em take so to any one, unless 'twas Cap'n Parks, +and he's an old friend. What I would say is, Pippin, we're gettin' on in +years, and we need young help. We've no boys of our own; I've got a +nevy, but--never mind about that now! We'd like first-rate to think that +you'd come back bimeby to stay." + +"Do you hear that?" Pippin asked himself silently. "He would trust me; +knowin' all there is to know, he'd take me right in! Now wouldn't +that--" He turned to Mr. Bailey with shining eyes. "You're real good, +sir!" he said simply. "You're--you're _darned_ good! I don't know how to +say what I feel, but I feel it all the same. Now--want me to say what +I've ben thinkin'?" + +"Sure!" assented Jacob with a grave nod. Pippin looked about him +vaguely. "Woodpile yonder!" + +Jacob nodded over his shoulder. Pippin went to the pile and selected a +stick with great care, squinting along it to observe the straightness of +the grain. Returning with his prize, he produced his own knife, and +silence reigned for a moment while he removed the bark, Jacob critically +regarding him the while. + +"I've ben thinkin'--the _chance_ of it! Here you've got these folks, and +they're nice folks--most of 'em, that is--and you're doin' everything in +the world for 'em, and it's _great_. Yes, sir, it's great! And the farm, +and the garding--why, it's Mother dear, Jerusalem, right here in Cyrus +township, or so it appears to me. But what I'm thinkin' of is the boys!" + +A look of pain crossed the kindly face. "The boys!" he repeated. + +"Mr. Bailey, I'd love to take care of them old folks, and blind, and +like that; but all the time I'm thinkin' of the boys. Boys in the slums, +and boys in jug, where I left 'em the other day. It appears to be laid +upon me that I am to help the boys; though not to forget the others +either, when I git a chance at 'em. Now see! I can't go but a little +ways at a time, can I? It's like I was learnin' to walk--if you see what +I mean. I don't know just what the Lord has for me to do, 'cept the +first thing, to find this old rip's gal. That's plain, ain't it? When I +can _see_ a thing, right face to, I can do it--sometimes! But after +that--all about it, I can't tell, but I expect the Lord has it all laid +out for me, and He'll let me know, 'cordin' to." + +There was a pause. Pippin looked up expectantly, and saw his companion +looking out over the fields with eyes full of trouble. His face had +suddenly fallen into lines of age. + +"What's wrong, sir?" asked Pippin impulsively. "Have I said anything I +shouldn't? I'll ask you to excuse me if I have." + +A shake of the head reassured him. Jacob Bailey turned the troubled eyes +on him, seemed to hesitate; finally, clearing his throat, spoke in a +slow, husky voice. + +"There's one boy--" He stopped. "Them oats looks good, don't they?" He +nodded toward an adjoining field. + +"Fine!" Pippin threw a hasty glance toward the oats. "They are dandy, +sure. You was speakin' of a boy, Mr. Bailey! What about him?" + +Still the gray-haired man hesitated, looking about him with those +troubled eyes. At last he seemed to make up his mind, and looked +straight at Pippin. + +"There's one boy--" he said; "Pippin, there's one boy needs help the +worst way. I expect he's right there in Kingdom, where you're stoppin'." + +"I want to know!" Pippin was aglow with interest. "Where'll I find him? +What's his name? Has he been run in?" + +"Speak low!" the farmer glanced about him. "There's no one round, and +yet you never can tell; the folks don't know. It's m' wife's nevy I'm +speakin' of, Myron Allen, her sister's son. He's been stayin' with us +since his mother died--father dead, too--and he got to be like our own +to us. He went to school, and he helped me with the chores and helped m' +wife with hers, and was handy boy all round. Mebbe we worked him too +hard; he's only sixteen. We never thought it, but mebbe we did. Yet he +seemed happy--whistlin' all over the place, jokin' and like that; and +his cheeks was round and red as a Baldwin apple. Yes, sir, he enjoyed +good health, and everybody made of him, and he was good as gold. Yes, +sir, no one couldn't ask nor wish for a better boy than what Myron was +till last summer. Then--well, 'twas bad company begun it." + +"You bet it was!" murmured Pippin. "Go on, sir!" + +"'Twas hayin' last year done the mischief. Myron hired out to a man over +Tinkham way--that was after he'd got through with the hayin' here--and +there he met up with some that was no better than they should be by all +accounts. Pippin, that boy left us an innocent boy, that never had a bad +word in his mouth that ever _I_ heard, nor no one round here. He come +back--" the gruff voice faltered--"he come back different, sir. He'd +slap through his work and then off he'd go and set down behind the shed +and read. He'd got a lot of books from some one he'd met up with; them +Sleuth stories, you know, and like that, little paper books. You've seen +'em?" + +"I've seen 'em!" Pippin nodded. + +"He'd set there by the hour, readin' and readin', and oftentimes the +cows bellerin' their hearts out to be milked. I'd come back from the +field and find him with his nose in the book, and his eyes startin' out +of his head. There warn't no cows nor no farm nor nothin' for him those +times. I'd get real worked up, now and then, and give him a good callin' +down, and he'd do better for a spell; but that was only the beginning." +He glanced round again, and his voice dropped to a whisper. + +"There's more to it. Things begun to be missed round here! It's been +goin' on all winter; nothin' great, just a little here and a little +there. Folks begun to talk, and some claimed 'twas tramps, and some +begun to wonder--He's only a boy, you understand, Pippin! Oftentimes the +thinkin' part grows up slower than what the bodily part does, ain't that +so?" + +Pippin met the anxious eyes cheerfully. + +"That's so! Why, likely he wasn't more than ten years old, come to look +inside of him. Where you'll find one boy that knows just where hookin' +ends and stealin' begins, you'll find a dozen that don't. And there's +more to it than that; but go on, sir! I'm just as inter_est_ed as I can +be!" + +"This spring, a feller come along, and Myron knew him; he was one of +them he had met over Tinkham way, and he was trampin'. Lookin' for work, +he said, but if I ever saw a countenance that said lookin' for mischief, +'twas his. Young man, too! Well, Myron brought him in and we treated him +well, because Myron seemed so taken with him. We give him a bed, and +next day I set him to work hoein'--said he _wanted_ work, you +understand--and he appeared pleased as pie. Myron was hoein', too; we +can't keep the witch grass out of that field, try our best. I was busy +in the barn that day, choppin' hay, but yet I'd come out now and then +jest to let 'em know I was round, and every time I'd find 'em with their +heads together, tongues doin' the work and hoes takin' a noon spell: +quick as they saw me they'd shut up and go to work. Well! I'd ought to +have known then that they was plottin' mischief, but you don't look for +your own folks--" + +He broke off, and was silent a moment. Pippin assured himself that it +was all right; it hurt, and thank the Lord it did! How'd he feel if it +didn't? + +"That night one of the neighbors was broke into, and money taken from +his pants pocket. He woke up jest in time to see a man with a mask on +gettin' out of the window. He up and run, but they was too quick for +him--he see from the window there was two of 'em--and though he +hollered and fired his gun, they got off, and he couldn't find hide nor +hair of 'em. Next mornin' the tramp was gone, and Myron with him, and I +found--I found in Myron's room some pieces of black cloth, and one of +'em with eyeholes cut in it." + +There was a long silence. The two sticks were beautifully smooth by this +time; Pippin began polishing his thoughtfully on his coat sleeve. +Finally he shut his knife with a snap, and straightened his broad +shoulders. The older man, looking up, met his eyes brimful of light and +joy. + +"Mr. Bailey," said Pippin, "the Lord is awful good to me! What did I +tell you just now? That I couldn't see but just one step ahead, wasn't +that it? Well, now I see two, and the second one is ahead of the other." + +"I don't--quite--" began Jacob doubtfully. + +"Don't you? Why do you s'pose the Lord put in your mind to tell me about +this? Why, green grass! I got to find the boy as well's the gal! That's +plain to see. Look! Where would them two go? They'd strike the nearest +town, wouldn't they, so's they could lay up a bit, and spend their swag? +Well, what's the nearest town? Kingdom, where I'm stayin' at present; +Kingdom, where I'll have to be a spell yet, till I find some one to take +my place--Green grass! I believe--" + +Silent again, but in great excitement, Pippin pocketed his knife and +stick, pulled out his file, and ran it through and through his hair +wildly. + +"Mr. Bailey, sir," he cried at last, "the Lord is showin' me His hand, +and it's a dandy one. Don't say a word; don't ask me anything; but if +you can trust me--if you _can_ trust me--why, I'm to be trusted, because +the Lord has hired me for the job!" + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +FLORA MAY + + +Soon after this, Pippin took the road, sober at first, walking slowly +with bent head, thinking hard; but as the morning got into his blood it +began to tingle, his eyes began to shine, and up went his head. + +"Green grass!" he said. "That sure was a nice place, and nice folks. +Most of 'em, I would say; Old Man Blossom is a mite yaller sure, but +some of the others are white enough to make up for him. Mr. and Mis' +Bailey, now, I declare! They are as like as--as peas--to Pa and Ma, that +I thought up to myself along back. How do, Pa? How be you, Ma? Don't you +go back on me! Gee! and think of that young feller goin' back on them +two! If I was him--green grass! wouldn't it have been great if I was! I +tell you I'd make things hum to that nice place. I'd make them two +forget I wasn't their own son, and twins at that. And them old ladies! +Why, all they need is a little humorin'. Real friendly they was to me! +And Mr. Brand! He is a peach, sure thing! I expect he could do more for +me, blind, than I could for him, seein'. But I'd be--call it a nevy--to +him, if I had the chance. And that poor sweet pretty creatur, if I +wouldn't be a brother to her, send me back over There and put me in +solitary! Try and learn her little things, try and make her eyes look a +mite different. Not but they've tried, them good folks, but bein' +nearer her age, and she taken with my singin' and like that--why, an +angel wouldn't be no handsomer than what she would be if she had her +mind. Take and learn her--" + +Pippin stopped dead. Something was rustling in the bushes. The dream +light faded from his face; he stiffened to attention like a pointer, his +eyes fixed on the fringe of woods on his left. Something in there! A +critter, or--? + +The rustling grew nearer, louder; the bushes crackled, parted; a figure +came out, timidly, eagerly, ran forward, fell down before him, seized +his hand and looked up with dumb, imploring eyes. Flora May! + +There are two men in every one of us. I used to think there were ten in +Pippin, but for one instant all ten were paralyzed, looking helplessly +into the blue eyes that burned into his; then one of them woke, the one +who would have been a physician if Pippin had been reared in a home +instead of a cellar. + +He took the girl's wrists, and, holding them firmly, raised her to her +feet. + +"Why, Miss Flora May!" he said cheerfully. "Don't ever tell me this is +you! Did you come all this way just to say good-by? Now, if that wasn't +pretty of you! I'm just as much obliged as I can be, young lady; and +I'll walk back a piece with you, I will so. This wood lot is a mite +lonely, 'pears to me." + +The girl tried to fling herself down again, but he held her tight. "I +wouldn't do that!" His voice was kind, but he spoke with authority. "Get +your nice clean dress all dirty! What would Mis' Bailey say? Why, she'll +be lookin' for you, I expect. She thought you was 'tendin' to the hens, +and all the time--what say?" + +"Take me with you!" cried the girl. "I want you! I won't go back. Take +me with you!" + +"Now what a way that is to talk! You wouldn't leave Mr. and Mis' Bailey, +good and kind as they be--" + +"I want you!" wailed the girl, and again she would have flung herself +down, had not those firm hands held her fast. "Take me with you! Sing to +me! Love me! I belong to you!" + +Pippin's face had been full of perplexity, but now it lightened. + +"Sing to you! Why, sure I will! There's a song you'll just admire to +hear, Miss Flora May. We'll walk along and I'll sing as we go. No, I +won't let go both your hands; I'll hold this one so--so we can keep step +together. Now let's step out lively!" + +The girl drew back, her eyes narrowing. + +"This isn't the way you were going!" she said sullenly. "I won't go +back. I'm a big girl, and they treat me like I was a kid. I won't go +back! If you won't take me, I'll drown myself!" + +"We'll go along! 'Along' isn't 'back,' is it now? Along, you know: +matches up with song, don't you see? Green grass! see those pretty +yaller flowers! They're along, too, just a piece! Let's we gather some, +see if they're sweet as they are pretty!" + +Still holding her wrist in that firm grasp, rambling on about the +flowers, he stooped to pluck them, and managed to turn back in the +direction of Cyrus. + +"Now we'll come along!" he proclaimed. "Here's a good clear stretch of +road, and I'll sing--you just listen!" + +Never before, it seemed to Pippin, had he let his voice out to its full +power. He felt it fly like a bird before him; it must reach all the way, +it _must_! + + "When I can read my title clear + To mansions in the skies, + +("He'll hear that sure! he'll sense it in a minute, and know it's all +right!") + + "I'll bid farewell to every fear, + And wipe my weeping eyes! + +"So we will, Miss Flora May, won't we? You sing, too, that's a dandy +girl! Let her go, Gallagher!" + +Two hundred yards away, a man was driving through the woods at top speed +of his lumbering horse. Brows bent, lips compressed, deadly fear at his +heart, he sat unseeing, silent, save when he urged the clumsy beast to +still further effort. Fear at his heart, and anger, and bewilderment; +but struggling with all these something that said dazedly over and over, + +"I don't believe it! He wasn't that kind! I don't believe it!" + +Suddenly he checked the horse and threw up his head, listening. Through +the trees, down the wood road, a voice came flying like a bird, ringing +like a trumpet, crying like a great wind in his ears: + + "I'll bid farewell to every fear, + And wipe my weeping eyes!" + +"Lord, forgive me!" cried Jacob Bailey. "Lord, have mercy on me, and +never let him know!" + +A glint of blue among the trees, the jingle of a little bell that hung +beside the wheel; next moment they came in sight, Pippin first, chin in +air, mouth open, singing as a bird sings, with every fibre of his being; +the girl hanging back a little, held close by that strong hand, but +singing, too, in a sweet, broken voice. + + "Let cares like a wild deluge come, + And storms of sorrow fall, + May I but safely reach my home, + My God, my heaven, my all!" + +"Why, if here isn't our Mr. Bailey, this minute of time!" cried Pippin. +"Why--why, Miss Flora May, he's cryin'! Mr. Bailey, you sick, sir? Miss +Flora May, you climb right in the wagon, and comfort him up pretty!" + + * * * * * + +"That was a close call!" + +Pippin stood rubbing his head with his file, gazing after the retreating +wagon. His cheek had blanched under the tan, and his breath came quick +and short. Pippin had been frightened, a thing that had hardly happened +since the days when fear was his yokefellow, day and night. + +"That," he repeated, "was a close call, as close as I want in mine. +S'pose I'd got further off, so's he couldn't catch me up. What would he +ha' thought? Poor innocent gal! Gee! The Lord stood by me good that +time! But--gorry! S'pose I'd ben--Gives me the cold shivers to think of +it. Now--now--I wonder--" + +Pippin stood fingering his file absently, deep in thought. How to help a +person like that? He had wanted to help her, sure thing, and +now--'peared like all he had done was to hender. He expected 'twas his +being a new person, breakin' in, like that, when she was used to havin' +things quiet and all of a piece, so to say. He sighed, and replaced the +file. Best leave it, after all, to them dandy folks; they was used to +handlin' her and they knowed how. Best he keep away, till he had found +the little gal, what say? Yes--but--now a doctor might know things that +even Mr. and Mrs. Bailey wouldn't. Then he laughed, in spite of his +trouble. + +Now! How come he to think of that just now, of all times? Along +back--way along back--they'd say White Patter over a person that was +like that, not to say crazy, but a little wantin'. Old White Patter! +They would, sure! Kind of an old charm; couldn't call it a prayer, but +mebbe as nigh one as Granny Faa could manage to come. Pippin had tried +to say it late times, but he couldn't seem to fetch it: now--now-- + +He lifted his head; it was coming back, the age-long jargon. Word by +word, dropping into his mind from some limbo of things forgotten; word +by word, he said it over aloud, standing in the wood road, the trees +arching over his head, the moss curling round his feet. + + White paternoster, St. Peter's brother, + What hast 'ou i' the left hand? + White-book leaves! + What hast 'ou i' the right hand? + Heaven-gate keys! + Open heaven-gate and steek hell-gate! + White paternoster, amen! + +Back in the cellar! Darkness, foul air, fumes of liquor. Some one +singing in drunken tones snatches of song vile as the liquor. The child, +on his huddle of rags in the corner, shrinks and shudders, he knows not +why. The old woman rises; there is a cuff, a curse, a maudlin whimper; +she makes her way to the corner and bends over the child. "When he gets +singin'," she whispers, "don't 'ee listen, Pippin! Stop your ears and +say White Patter! Hark now, till I larn it 'ee!" + +Bending lower, she recites the charm over and over, till the child with +faltering lips can say it after her. "That'll keep 'ee safe!" says +Granny Faa, and hobbles back to the spark of fire that keeps her old +bones alive. + +"'Twas all the prayer she knew!" said Pippin. "Green grass! But yet I +expect the Lord understood. There's Amen to it, you see." + +Joy of the road on a June morning! Who could taste it as Pippin did? It +stood to reason that no one who had not been behind the bars could +really know what it meant. Blue sky overhead--not a little square patch, +but all you wanted, all there was--clear, deep, stainless, from rim to +rim of the horizon. That would be enough just itself, wouldn't it, after +three years of gray-white walls? But there was all the rest beside; +trees still in their young, exquisite green, birds not in cages but +flitting from branch to branch, singing, singing-- + +Flowers along the road: buttercups, Pippin's own flower that the Lord +gave him that day; daisies, too; beautiful, wicked orange hawkweed, and +good honest dandelions, each one a broad gold piece of Summer's coinage. +Grass, too--gorry! 'twas in There ("There" was Shoreham) he got the +habit of saying "Green grass!" It did him good just to think of it, and +it filled the mouth full as good as swearin', for all he could see. He +used to think about it; used to wonder, on breathless days when the +gray-white walls radiated heat--and other things than heat--how it would +feel to lie down and roll in grass, cool, moist, fragrant. + +Ah! and now here it was under his feet, an elastic, emerald carpet. All +he wanted of that, too! Were ever such uncountable riches as Pippin's +this June morning? + +He was to have yet more, Croesus that he was. On the left of the road a +glint of rosy purple showed against the black tree trunks. He stepped +aside and parted the branches. A little ferny hollow, with a tiny stream +babbling through: beside the stream masses of purple blossoms, delicate, +glowing, exquisite. + +"Green grass!" said Pippin. He stood for some time gazing; asking no +questions of Rhodora, being no critic, but taking his fill of delight in +simple thankfulness. "Gee!" he murmured, as he let the branches droop +again over the enchanted place. "And that's right here, by the side of +the road, a reg'lar flower show, and no charge for admission. Now what +do you think of that for a world to live in? I tell you, Paradise has +got to toe the mark to get ahead of that. What say?" + +The trees grew thinner, fell away to a fringe; the road grew broader and +more even. Presently a house or two came in sight. Yes, this was the +Kingdom road; he remembered that white house. He would be back in time +for dinner; then he'd put in two three days--or a week, mebbe--finding +that boy, and finding--yes, he sure would--the grace of God in him. Take +a boy like that, and he could be no more than egged over with sin, like +you do coffee cake: it hadn't had time to grime into him. And--come to +get him all clean and nice and steppin' the Lord's way again, what was +to hender his steppin' right into his, Pippin's, shoes and bein' handy +man to Mr. Baxter? Green grass! Pippin had planned lays before now, but +he never planned a prettier one than what this would be if it worked out +good--and it would! And then it was the city, and to find that little +gal. He had never meant to go back to the city, chaplain had told him +not to; but if he knew how things was, he would say go, he sure would, +Elder Hadley would. Yes, sir! And when he found her--well! After all, +the Old Man was her father, and he wouldn't be lasting long anyhow, and +if she was a good gal she wouldn't grudge him a portion of time. Mebbe +even she'd be fond of him: you never could tell what a woman wouldn't be +fond of. Why, Sheeny's wife was fond of him. Used to come over There +once a month reg'lar and cry over him 'cause he was in for a long jolt; +now you'd thought, knowin' Sheeny, she'd cry if he wasn't. And, gee! +there was the meetin'-house, and if Pippin wasn't holler for his dinner, +believe _him_! + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +PIPPIN SETS BREAD AND LAYS A PLAN + + +The Baxters received Pippin with open arms. 'Peared like he had been +away a week, they said, instead of just over night. They certainly had +missed him. No, they hadn't set the dough yet: they were just thinking +of it, but they thought likely--well, hadn't he better have his supper +first? No such great hurry, though of course 'twas _about_ time-- + +"Gimme five minutes," said Pippin, "and then just watch me!" + +In five minutes, washed and brushed, spotless in white cap and apron, +his arms bare to the shoulder, he appeared shouting for his task. + +Everything was white in the bakery; shining white of tiles and vessels, +soft white of scoured pine, softer white of snowy flour. The great +caldron stood ready, under the chute that led from the upper floor. +Pippin pressed a knob, and down came the flour, in a steady stream. +Pretty, Pippin thought, to watch it piling up in a soft cone, falling +away in tiny avalanches, piling up again. + +Another touch; the stream is checked. Now for the salt and sugar. Now +yeast, milk and water, half and half: more whiteness, brimming in a +white pail. In it goes, with wonderful effects of bubbling and creaming, +while snowy clouds float up and settle on Pippin's brown face and sinewy +arms. + +He touches another knob; down comes the iron dasher--this, too, shining +in white enamel--and round and round it goes, tossing, dropping, +gathering, tossing again, steadily, patiently; that is the way they mix +bread at Baxter's bakery. + +Pippin watches it, fascinated; he never tires of the wonder of it. But +presently Mrs. Baxter calls. "Supper, Pippin, come now! Buster'll mind +Elbert for you." + +Elbert is the dasher, named for the brother baker who persuaded Father +Baxter to give up hand mixing and take to machinery. Pippin gives the +machine a friendly pat. "Good old Elbert!" he says. "Keep it up, old +figger-head! I'll be back, time you're ready to lay off. She's all +right, Buster," as the boy enters, munching his final doughnut. "In +great shape, Elbert is! You want to scrape her down a mite--" give it +twenty masculine names, and a machine must still be feminine--"when she +gets balled up, that's all. She's just as sensible--why, she can all but +talk, this machine can." + +"Mourns good and plenty," chuckles Buster, "when she's dry." + +"Lots of folks mourn when they're dry! I shall be mournin' myself if I +wait any longer for that cup o' coffee your ma's got for me. So long, +old sport!" + +"You said you'd tell me that story about Mike Cooney and the turkey!" + +"Sure thing! But I didn't say I'd tell you when your ma was keepin' +supper for me. Quit now!" + +Seeing he was so late, Mrs. Baxter thought he might as well set right +down here at the kitchen table; here was his ham and eggs and coffee, +and the pie and doughnuts handy by. She'd been flustrated up all day. +Had Pippin heard that there was thieves about? No, Pippin hadn't; he +wanted to know if there was! Well, 'twas so. Mis' Wilkins had two pies +stole last night right off the butt'ry shelf, and a jug of cider, and +matches all over the floor; and night before that they broke into Al +Tibbetts's store, broke open the till and made away with two dollars and +seventy-five cents. There! She was so nervous she thought she should +fly. Did Pippin think the lock was real safe on the bakery door? + +Pippin, after reassuring her on this point, grew thoughtful over his +supper, so thoughtful that he was reproached for not eating a thing. He +roused himself. + +"Not eatin'! Just you watch me, Mis' Baxter! Know what ailed the man +that wouldn't eat a supper like this? Well, he was dead, that was what +troubled him!" + +The table cleared, Pippin washed his hands and arms at the sink, and +joined Mr. and Mrs. Baxter on the back porch. Soon two pipes were +puffing, and three rocking chairs (Buster had unwillingly gone bedward) +creaked and whined comfortably. It was a soft, dark night, just cool +enough for comfort, Pippin thought, and yet warm enough--well, warm +enough for comfort, too. The back porch looked out on a little gully, +the bed of a stream that flowed through Kingdom to join the river near +at hand. White birches grew on the steep banks--you could see them +glimmering through the dark--and the place was full of fireflies; the +stream murmured drowsily over its pebbles. + +"Green grass!" murmured Pippin. "Now wouldn't it give you a pain to +think of leavin' this?" + +They were three tired people--Mrs. Baxter had done a big ironing, and +the baker had missed Pippin sorely--and for some time were content to +sit silent, rocking softly, breathing tranquilly, "just letting go," as +Mrs. Baxter put it. But after a half-hour of this pleasant peace, +Pippin sighed, knocked the ashes from his pipe, and sat up straight in +his chair. + +"Now, folks," he said, "I've got to talk." + +Mrs. Baxter woke out of a comfortable doze; Mr. Baxter straightened +himself and knocked out his own ashes. "That's right!" he said. "We'll +be pleased to hear you, Pippin. I heard you tellin' Buster, and it +sounded real interestin'. Fire away!" + +"Well!" said Pippin ruefully. "I'm in hopes you won't be any _too_ well +pleased, Father Baxter. The heft of what I have to say is in four words: +I got to leave!" + +The rocking chairs creaked with startled emphasis. + +"You ain't, Pippin!" + +"You don't mean it, Pippin!" + +"You're jokin'! He's jokin', mother, can't you see?" + +"I wish't I was!" sighed Pippin. "I tell you, Mr. and Mrs., I don't want +to leave, no way, shape, or manner; but yet I got to. Lemme tell you, +and you'll see for yourselves. First place, I got to tell Mis' Baxter +about before I come here. Yes, Boss, I just plain _got_ to! I meant all +along to tell her before I left, but I've kind of put it off--the +further I get from that feller I used to be, the worse I hate him! +Well!" + +Slowly and carefully Pippin rehearsed the familiar story, hiding +nothing, glossing nothing over, giving what glory there was to the Lord +and Elder Hadley. When he finished this part, the baker was holding one +of his hands, his wife the other, both uttering exclamations of pity, +sympathy, encouragement. + +_That_ wouldn't make no difference, the good people assured him, not the +least mite. "Why, he told me the very first day, mother! I didn't want +to make you nervous, so I kep' it to myself. It don't cut no ice with +us, Pippin, not a--" + +Pippin checked them gently; that was only the first chapter. He went on +to tell of his visit to Cyrus Poor Farm (omitting only the episode of +Flora May), and of his promises to Old Man Blossom and to Jacob Bailey. + +"Now you see, you nice folks--you nicest kind of folks--here I be! I +_love_ bakin'--if I was to work within four walls there's nothin' else +I'd choose so soon--but it isn't so intended; I make sure of that. Here +I be, promised to the Old Man to find his little gal if she's to be +found (and that means if she's alive), and promised to Mr. Bailey to get +hold of that boy and give him a boost. You see how 'tis, don't you? +Well, of course! I knew you would! Well, now I was studyin' this out all +the way home, and the Lord took hold and showed me His idea, and I think +'twill work out real good, if we have luck. I say 'we,' because you +folks have got to help." + +"For pity's sake, Pippin!" + +"Yes, Mis' Baxter, for pity's sake! That's the stuff. And that boy's +sake. Suppose it was Buster! This is a good boy, mind you, only weak. +Suppose it was Buster! Look at here! This is the way I've worked it out. +Mr. Bailey is a dandy man, and Mis' Bailey ekally so woman, but they +made a big mistake. What did that boy need? He needed other boys, and +there wasn't none round, so happened. There was old folks, and blind +folks, and wantin' folks, some good as gold and others--well, the +reverse! He didn't want none of 'em; he wanted a pal! Well! He got one, +and he got a crook. That was his streak of bad luck, see? And he's in it +still. Way I look at it, we got to haul him out, ain't it?" + +"I'll do my part, Pippin!" said Mrs. Baxter promptly. + +"Count me in!" said the baker. "I don't know what I can do, 'less it's +knead the youngster up in a batch of dough and bake him to keep him out +of mischief, but count me in!" + +"Well!" said Pippin. He leaned forward, a hand on the knee of either. +His voice dropped to a whisper. "Now--" + +He paused abruptly. Something was moving in the gully beneath them. With +a swift gesture of caution, he stole noiselessly to the railing of the +porch and looked down. All was soft darkness, save where the birches +glimmered dusky white, where the fireflies danced and shone. The stream +droned on; the night clung closer. Look! Was that a blacker shadow +there, just where the old willow overhung the stream? Was it a shadow +that moved, followed by a second stealthy shade? A twig snapped; a +branch rustled. Hark! Was that a whisper, a footstep? The fireflies rose +in a wild whirl, scattered, came together, resumed their rhythmic dance, +filling the little glen with golden sparks. Silence fell like a mantle. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +PIPPIN ENCOUNTERS THE RED RUFFIAN + + +The days that followed Pippin's disclosure of his plan were troublous +ones for Mrs. Baxter. She looked under the bed a dozen times a day; she +avoided the broom closet for fear of what might lurk there; if a door +resisted her opening, she made sure it was held on the other side. For +the first time, terror entered her life. It had been a comfortable life: +she had been a good and cheerful baby, child, maiden; she was a good and +cheerful woman. She had known that this was a wicked world, and--in a +general way--that there were bad people even in Kingdom. They never +entered the bakery, but tales of them were whispered over the counter +during the tying up of buns and coffee cakes. And we were all miserable +sinners, of course, especially on Sunday. But now she was living _in_ a +tale! Their own Pippin, Pippin of the bright eyes, the winning smile, +the pleasant, helpful ways--Pippin had been one of the wicked. And now +there were more of them about, walking Kingdom streets, perhaps--she +shuddered--looking in the window the moment while her back was turned; +and she was to be called upon to help save one of them. + +"But I've had no experience!" she would say piteously. "I don't know how +to talk to them kind of persons, Pippin. I've had no experience!" + +"Well, you're goin' to have!" Pippin told her cheerily. "Woman dear, +crooks is just folks, same as other folks; they ain't painted black, +outside or in. You know how to talk to me well enough, don't you?" + +"Oh, Pippin!" + +"Well, then! Just bear in mind that what this boy is, I was, only about +a thousand times wuss. Why, he's nothin' _but_ a boy! Say to yourself, +'S'pose it was Buster!' Say it over and over till it comes easy as +breathin'!" + +"Yes, Pippin!" said Susan Baxter. + +As for Pippin himself, the days were not long enough for him. He was +making the most of his last week of baking. Hitherto he had kept +strictly to bread, rolls and doughnuts; but now he essayed loftier +flights, wrestled with coffee cake, overcame; made his first batch of +pies and glowed with pride to hear them pronounced A No. 1. Between work +hours he ranged the town with his wheel, and at every corner people +gathered round him, ostensibly to have their knives sharpened, though by +this time there was hardly a dull knife in Kingdom--really to watch +Pippin at work and hear him sing. He scanned every group with eager +eyes, but saw no strange faces, only the kindly Kingdom Comers, as he +called them, who were all his friends. After dark, leaving his wheel at +home, he might drop in on Father O'Brien or Elder Stebbins for an hour's +chat, and hear what was going on in the two parishes, to both of which +he considered himself to belong. + +"Say, that was a dandy anthem, wasn't it?" he would say to the good +Father. "Suited me down to the ground! Good sermon you preached, too, +Father. Common sense! I liked that sermon. Only, wasn't you just a mite +hard on the heathen? I've known dandy heathen, sir, simply dandy. I +wish't you knew old Sing Lee. He used to tell about a guy they call +Confusion, and I never could see why they called him that, for he was +plain as print, 'peared to me, and his ideas was dandy, they sure was. +Well, so long, Father! Yes, sir, I'd like a blessin' real well; thank +you kindly!" + +Taking his leave, he would leave the house very quietly, shutting the +door after him without a sound. Before going home he would wander, +apparently aimlessly, about the town, diving into alleys, coming +suddenly round corners, exploring the quarter of the town known +familiarly as Devildom. + +During this week the pilferings hung fire. Anxious housewives counted +their garments on the line, storekeepers looked well to tills, locks and +bolts, and slept with their pocketbooks under their pillows; but nothing +happened, and it began to be whispered about that "the mean folks" had +left town and gone elsewhere. + +Toward the end of the week Pippin made an excursion to a neighboring +village on urgent representation from one of its inhabitants, "sharpened +'em up good," as he expressed it, all round, gave them a Gospel concert, +spent a happy day visiting round among the scattered farms, and started +for home with a light heart and a pocketful of dimes. He had covered a +good deal of ground, and became aware that he was distinctly "leg +weary"; but green grass! he thought, what a dandy time he had had, and +how good supper would taste! + +It was growing dusk as he drew near Kingdom. There was the patch of +woods that was full of violets a month ago. He wondered if there would +be any still in bloom. Mrs. Baxter was ter'ble fond of violets (and yet +they wa'n't her pattern, you'd think; pineys was more her kind), but if +there _was_ any violets-- + +Entering the cool shade of the wood path, he was pacing slowly along, +glancing left and right for the "proud virgins of the year," when he +heard a rustling among the bushes by the roadside. Thought flashed back +to that day--only a week ago, was it? It seemed a month--when those +other bushes had rustled. For an instant he dreaded to see the pale, +lovely, imploring face of the imbecile girl; then common sense returned. +"She couldn't have got so far," was his first thought; "nor yet she +wouldn't be wearin' pants!" his second. There was no time for a third. +Out from the shadow stepped two masked figures, one of them with a +leveled pistol. + +"Throw up your hands!" + +"That's what!" said Pippin. + +The holder of the pistol--a slight, youthful-looking fellow, gave a +triumphant laugh, and glanced over his shoulder at his companion. He +laughed too soon. In the act of lifting his hands, Pippin made two +catlike steps forward, tripped, fell heavily against him, and the two +came to the ground together. There was a brief struggle, the two rolling +over and over, silent and breathless. When it ended Pippin was sitting +on his assailant's head, and it was he who held the pistol. Thus seated, +he put two fingers to his mouth and gave a shrill and piercing whistle +in three notes: up, down, up. At sound of this, the second, who had been +hovering in the background, took to his heels and fled as if for his +life. + +"Green grass!" said Pippin. "That worked pretty, didn't it?" + +The person under him struggled and groaned. + +"Like me to move a little ways?" said Pippin, and moved down to his +chest. "There! Breathe easier that way, can't ye? Well, what about it?" + +"Lemme up!" cried the sufferer. "---- ---- you, lemme up!" + +Pippin drew out his red handkerchief, and calmly stuffed it into the +fellow's mouth. "Just till you can speak pretty!" he said. "You're free +to hold me up, if you know enough, which you don't, but I've no call to +hear your language when I don't like it. That's square, ain't it?" + +Presently he removed the handkerchief and tied the fellow's wrists with +it in a workmanlike fashion. "There now, we can chin a spell; what say?" + +Quitting his uneasy seat, he helped the other to his feet, and as he did +so, twitched the mask from his face. Then he whistled. It was a boy's +face that scowled at him, angry and frightened. A boy of sixteen or +seventeen, not bad-looking either-- + +"Green grass!" said Pippin under his breath. "I'll bet--" but he did not +say what he would bet. Instead, he bade the other, kindly, to see what a +fool he had went and made of himself. It was easy to see he was new to +the trade. The other guy was the old hand, eh, what? He judged so from +the way he lifted his feet. Lifted--his--feet--Where had Pippin seen +feet lift like them, pounding that way? Memory seemed to hover for an +instant, but was gone before he could catch it. + +"And think of your tryin' it on one of your own trade!" said Pippin +comfortably. "Me, that was old to the fancy when you was nussin' your +bottle. That was hard luck, wasn't it? And yet--who knows? Mebbe 'twas +good luck, too!" + +"What--what you mean?" stammered the boy. "Do you mean that you--" + +"Well, I guess! Brought up to it from a baby. Ever hear of the Honey +Boys of Blankton? Well, I'd like to know who was boss of the Honey Boys, +if 'twasn't me. Yes, sir! I could tell you stories--Say we sit down a +spell!" + +They sat. Pippin told a few stories with apparent gusto. "Now," he said, +"let's hear what you have to tell, bo!" + +The boy, nothing loth, poured out a wild, foolish tale enough. How he +was bred to farming, and despised it; how he meant to make his fortune +and come back a rich man, and show them--yes, siree! he'd show them +whether he was a lunkhead or not! How he met up with that feller over +yonder hayin', and heard how things was done, and they went to Kingdom. +There wasn't much doin' there, so to-night Reilly said he'd show him +about road work, and let him try his hand. + +"But, honest, I don't believe he'd ha' done any better than I did!" +cried the boy, his weak, handsome face aglow with admiration. +"He wouldn't ha' stood up against you. Say, you done that slick, +Mr.----I don't know what your name is!" + +"Try Moonlighter," said Pippin--"Moonlighter or Jack-o'-Lantern; I've +answered to both names. As to your friend, you're well rid of him. If +you ask me, he's a sneak and a skunk. He won't come back; I doubt if he +stops this side of the city. What makes me think so? Why, you heard me +whistle?" + +"Yes; what did it mean?" + +"Cop's whistle: look out, there's crooks about. He didn't know I wasn't +callin' my mate, did he? No, nor yet you don't know! But I like your +looks, bo! You ain't a sneak, are you? You wouldn't give a pal away, if +he was to show you a firstrate plant--what say?" + +The boy stammered protestations and assurances. + +"That's right! Oh, you can tell from a guy's looks, when you're used to +sizin' folks up. Now if you really mean business--" Pippin paused, drew +out his file, whistled on it softly, winked and replaced it--"if you +really mean business, bo--" he said. + + * * * * * + +When Pippin entered Kingdom town again, it was by a back way little +frequented. He trod softly and warily, and at his heels trod his late +assailant, now his slave and devotee. + +Pippin would show Red Ruffi'n (thus he had named the lad) a place where +he could rest safe and easy till next night. Things wouldn't be ready +till next night; he had a heap to do. Red Ruffi'n would see; this was a +dandy place, where he'd be as safe as he would to home. Just let him +show him! Go easy now! + +Kingdom, neat, prosperous little town though it was, had its slum; a +huddle of ramshackle cottages tumbling up and down a ragged hill. The +cottages were in sad need of paint and shingles, their windows held more +old hats than glass, the linen that flapped about them on sagging +clotheslines did not look particularly clean. + +Close by was the village dump, exhaling unsavory odors. By day this spot +was haunted by frowsy children and slatternly women, grubbing about the +edges of the dump for an orange that might be partly good, a box that +would split up for kindling; but now all was quiet in Devildom. The +place was the scandal of Kingdom housewives. Pippin had usually avoided +it, but now he led the way thither eagerly. Skirting the edge of the +dump, he came to a spot where a ledge cropped out, partly overhanging a +tiny hollow. He had seen some children playing here once, and had noted +the spot as a good hiding hole, thanking the Lord that he never would +need to hide, never no more, glory be! + +"There!" he said, and turned to his companion. "Here you'll be safe as +you would in your own bed. Folks is scared of this place, think it's +ha'nted; won't nobody come nigh, you see if there does." + +"Is--is it?" asked the Red Ruffian, in a tone that might have sounded +timorous had his character been less desperate. + +"Is it what? Ha'nted? I dunno. I never see anything here but once, and +then I wasn't quite positive. Somethin' white an' misty went past, sort +o' groanin' to itself; I couldn't pass no judgment what it was. Anyway, +they say if you speak up to 'em, same as you would, they can't do a +person no hurt. But say, ain't this a dandy hole? Now you rest easy +here, and I'll come to-morrow night and fetch you. Here's some crackers: +what say?" + +"It--it smells bad, don't it?" The boy was sniffing with evident +disrelish. + +"Yes!" Pippin glowed enthusiastic. "Don't it? Real bad. That's another +thing will keep folks away. Oh, you'll be as snug as--what say? Damp? +No, it ain't! It's dry as a lime-burner's wig. Gorry! I wish't I'd had a +place like this, when I was--well, goodnight, Red Ruffi'n! Pleasant +dreams to ye! You've got the countersign?" + +"Ye-es! 'Blood is red!' Are you--are you going, Moonlighter?" + +"That's what! Just wait till to-morrow night and you'll see stars! +Green grass! we'll--have us--a time!" + +His voice died away: the Red Ruffian tried to call him back, but +failing, cowered down in his hiding hole and shivered. + +The next day it rained; a gentle, steady downpour that evidently meant +business. Mrs. Baxter, with looks of dismay, called Pippin's attention +to the fact. Pippin chuckled and said it was great. + +"But my land! That boy'll be all wet!" + +"You bet he will! Wet through to his bones, I tell you!" Pippin chuckled +again. "Might I trouble you for a morsel of the pork, Mrs. Baxter?" + +Mrs. Baxter passed the pork absently, stirred her coffee absently. +Presently: "What's he got for breakfast?" she asked. + +"Crackers!" said Pippin gleefully. "Nice dry sody crackers; or mebbe +they ain't quite so dry by now; _and_ a cigar!" + +"Pippin!" Mrs. Baxter looked reproach. + +"Yes, ma'am! Nice long black cigar, the strongest I could find in the +store. Green grass! Mr. Baxter, where'd you s'pose Ed Nevins got them +cigars? Why, they'd knock a bullock stiff!" + +"My land! It'll make him _sick_!" cried Mrs. Baxter. + +"Well, I guess! If there's a sicker boy in Kingdom than what he'll be, +I'm sorry for him!" Pippin threw back his head and laughed gleefully, +Mr. Baxter joining in with a deep rumble over his pork and beans. + +Mrs. Baxter's dark eyes flashed. + +"I'd like to know what _you_ find to laugh at, Timothy Baxter! I must +say I think you're real unfeelin', both of you." She brushed the crumbs +from her apron with hands that trembled. "That boy--and you _said_ he +was motherless, Pippin, I heard you--out in the rain all day, half +starved, and then to make him sick--there! I think menfolks is just +_mean_!" She rose from the table. As she turned away, Pippin caught at +the corner of her apron. + +"Don't be mad with me, Mis' Baxter!" he pleaded. + +"Well, I _am_!" Mrs. Baxter turned squarely upon him. "I am mad with +both of you, and what's more, I'm disgusted. There!" + +"Hold on, Ma!" Father Baxter pushed his chair back and came to lay a +calm hand on her shoulder. "Now, Ma, you behave! We agreed to let Pippin +run this show, didn't we? Well, then, what I say is, _let_ him run it!" + +"But I never--" Mrs. Baxter began indignantly. + +"Hold on, Ma! Pippin knows this kind of boy, and you don't, nor I don't, +over 'n' above. He ain't calculatin' to give him a birthday party, with +a frosted cake and seventeen candles and one to grow on; are you, +Pippin?" + +"You bet I ain't!" Pippin was glowing with earnestness. "I'm goin' to +give him--why, look at here, Mis' Baxter! When Buster ate them green +apples last week, what was't you give him? A portion of physic, wasn't +it? I thought so! Well, you physicked his stummick, 'cause he'd got +things in it that didn't belong there; woman dear, I'm goin' to physic +this boy's soul, and don't you forget it!" + +At the ring in his voice, the kindling light in his eyes, the good woman +melted. The tears came into her eyes and her lips quivered. + +"That's right!" Pippin was stroking her head now and talking as if to a +little child. "You'll see, 'twill all come out nice as pie. And you got +your part to do, you know, Mis' Baxter. You're goin' to have the best +hot supper, and the warmest bed, and the dryest clothes that ever was, +ready by the time we get through to-night. Yes, ma'am! And Mr. Baxter, +he's goin' to do his part--" + +"I am!" said the baker solemnly. "I don't know yet just what it'll be, +but I'm goin' to do it all the same." + +"Green grass!" cried Pippin. "You _are_ dandy folks, no use talkin' +'bout it!" + + + + +CHAPTER X + +PIPPIN LOOKS FOR THE GRACE OF GOD + + +All day long the rain fell, softly, steadily, without haste and without +rest; all day long the Red Ruffian cowered in his hiding hole, cold, +wet, hungry and miserable. The water trickled in streams down the rock +behind him and gathered in pools about his feet. The dump near by +steamed, and sent off noisome fumes. Rats ran in and out of it; the +Ruffian was afraid of rats. + +What did the boy think of as he sat huddled under the partial shelter of +the ledge, munching his sodden crackers? Did he picture to himself the +glories of successful crime, the riches won by skill and daring, the +revels with other chosen spirits? No! He thought of Cyrus Poor Farm. He +saw the bright, cozy kitchen, the wide fireplace, the cheerful glowing +of the stove. He saw the table spread with its homely, hearty fare: +baked beans, done to a turn, with that dusky-gold crisp on the pork that +none save Aunt Bailey could give; the potatoes roasted in their jackets; +the brown bread--at thought of the brown bread the Ruffian groaned aloud +and passed the back of his hand across his eyes. + +The long day wore on. The slow hours chimed from the church beyond the +hill. His one comfort was the thought of the cigar inside his shirt, dry +and safe in its oiled paper. The matches were safe, too, in a tin box. +He would wait till along towards dark, and then smoke. It would chirk +him up good, and when Moonlighter came to fetch him, he'd find him as +gay--as gay--a strong shiver seized him, and his teeth chattered. Wasn't +it about time? It was growing dusk. At last, with wet, trembling +fingers, he drew out his prize. Sheltering it with his body from the +pitiless rain, he struck a match and applied it to the cigar. The tiny +flame spurted, clung, shrank to a spark, spurted again--the cigar was +alight. + + * * * * * + +It was near midnight. The rain had ceased, and a dense white mist was +rising from the drenched earth. A breeze came sighing through the +branches of the trees, rustling the grasses round the hiding hole; it +was answered by a low moan from the sodden figure that lay stretched in +the hollow under the rock. It was his last moan, Myron thought. Death +was coming; this white mist was his shroud. They would find him here--or +maybe they would not. Maybe his bones would whiten in this dismal spot, +and years after, the traveler--Hark! what was that? A sound, that was +not wind or trees or grasses: a long, low, wailing cry. + +The wretched boy struggled up on one elbow and peered through the thick +white curtain, then, with a smothered shriek, he scrambled to his hands +and knees. Something was there! Something whiter than the mist; +something that moved-- + +"Help!" cried the Red Ruffian. "Murder! Help!" + +"Hush!" said Pippin. "Hold your darned noise! _Steel is sharp!_" + +"Oh! oh, dear! oh--_blood is red_! Is it you, Moonlighter? Why are +you--why are you all in white?" + +"Make folks think I was the ha'nt, bonehead! What'd you s'pose? Cute +trick, I thought!" + +Pippin stepped down into the hollow and threw off the sheet that covered +him. + +"Well, how are you, young feller?" he asked cheerfully. + +"I'm dyin'!" said the boy feebly. "Tell the folks I--" + +"Oh, shucks! Here, set up--so! It's stopped rainin'. My! you are wet, +ain't you? Feelin' sick? I expect that cigar _was_ a mite--_here!_ lean +up against the ledge here, and take a drink!" + +Reader, have you ever tasted spice-draught? Its basic principle is +peppermint. To this is added cinnamon, cloves, cassia, and a liberal +dash of cayenne pepper. "Temp'rance toddy," I have heard it called, but +there is nothing temperate about it. "S'archin'" is the adjective Pippin +used. + +"Take a good swig!" he urged, putting the bottle to the boy's lips. +"It's hot stuff, I tell ye!" + +The boy drank; next moment he was on his feet, coughing, dancing round, +and holding his throat. A howl of anguish broke from him, but Pippin +checked it with a hand over his mouth. + +"Easy, boy, easy! 'Twill het you up good; nothin' like it, Mis'--that +is, they claim. Don't you feel it livenin' of you up? That's hearty! Now +you'll find your legs. Lean against me if you're wobbly still. Time we +was on our job! Foller, Red Ruffi'n!" + +As they went along, Pippin explained the nature of the job. A soft snap, +just the thing for a green hand. Nice, quiet folks, sound sleepers, +old-fashioned lock--pick it with one hand while you eat your dinner +with the other. Honest, if he didn't feel that Red Ruffi'n _needed_ a +soft snap, he wouldn't hardly have had the heart to ease them, they +_was_ such nice folks. Been real good to him, too, and would be to any +one come nigh 'em, but Red Ruffi'n was his pal, and pals were bound to +see each other through. + +"S'pose--s'pose we was pinched!" said Red Ruffi'n, stumbling along over +the plashy ground. "What would--" + +"Shoreham!" Pippin gave a lively sketch of the place; the Red Ruffian +shuddered and coughed. + +"Moonlighter," he said, after a pause; "I hadn't ought to get you into +this. I--I ain't feelin' well, either; s'pose we--what say?" + +Pippin took his arm with a grip as firm as it was quiet. + +"Testin' me, are ye?" he laughed. "Tryin' to see if I'd crawl--what? +There's no crawl in me, not an inch! Just wait till we get in where it's +warm and dry, and you'll see things different: not but I know you was +only foolin'. Crawl _now_, when everything's all ready? Gee! I would be +a softy, wouldn't I? Here's the gully! Now you go first and I'll foller +and keep watch behind; stop when you hear me peep like a chicken!" + +With faltering steps the unhappy Ruffian crept along the gully, keeping +well in the shadow, starting at every stray cat, every scrap of +wind-whisked paper. Pippin, stepping lightly and softly a few yards +behind, whistled noiselessly, and pursued an imaginary conversation with +Mrs. Baxter. + +"Just you trust me, Mis' Baxter, and you'll see. Why, you don't think +I'd take all this trouble, and _give_ all this trouble, if I weren't +certain sure that I was right? 'He leadeth me,' you know, ma'am, and +the Lord is sure leadin' me this time. There's no harm will come of it, +but only good, if I'm not a bonehead from Bonetown. Now see--" + +He peeped low, like a day-old chicken; the slinking figure in advance +stopped. + +It was, as Pippin had said, an easy lock to pick. A stout hairpin of +Mrs. Baxter's did the trick; a nice tool, Pippin pronounced it gravely. +The door swung open, revealing blackness. The Red Ruffian, shrinking +back, found himself gently but firmly propelled forward; he stumbled +over the threshold and the door closed noiselessly behind him. "This +way!" Pippin guided him through a passage, over another threshold. "Here +we be!" Closing another door, Pippin produced a match, lighted a bit of +candle. "The bakery!" he whispered. "The money is in here! Hush! Take +your shoes off; one of 'em squeaks." + +The flickering light shone on the white tiles, the glittering enamel, +the black doors of the ovens; the further corners of the room were in +deep shadow. + +"Did it squeak loud? Do you think--do you think any one heard? Hark! +What was that?" + +"Nothin'! Mouse, mebbe! Now look! The cash is in that box, see? Under +the table there; make it out? Now, Red Ruffi'n, this is your job, and +you are goin' to have the credit of it. I'll hold the light; you reach +down and get the box--" + +Mr. Baxter had felt all along that when the time came, he would know +what to do. A calm man, he had followed Pippin's instructions +implicitly, had now stood patiently for an hour in his dark corner, +leaning on his "peel," the long broad-bladed, paddle-like implement +which bore the loaves to and from the oven. Mrs. Baxter, in the shop, +might palpitate and wring her hands and moan, only restrained by +thoughts of Buster slumbering above; Mr. Baxter awaited his moment, and +it came. + +By the flickering candlelight, he saw a cringing, trembling figure creep +forward, and bend over, displaying to his view a broad expanse of +trouser. To the father of Buster, that expanse suggested but one thing +in the world. Raising the peel, he brought it down with a resounding +thwack which sent the boy flat on his face under the table and brought +Mrs. Baxter shrieking from the shop. + +"Elegant!" said Pippin. "Mr. Baxter, sir, that was simply elegant!" + + * * * * * + +An hour later the Red Ruffian, full, dry, and warm, a plaster over his +injured nose, lay in Pippin's bed; and Pippin ("as per contract with the +Elder," he told himself, "lettin' alone its bein' right and fittin' so +to do") sat on the edge of the bed and looked for the grace of God. + +He began by explaining his plot in full: how he had been at the Poor +Farm, heard Mr. Bailey's story, and promised to find the boy if he +could; how the Lord had come into it and played right into his hand; how +the excellent baker and his wife had agreed to help; how everything had +went smooth as greased lightnin'--he never see anything work out neater +and prettier. + +"Here! Take another drink of the lemonade! 'Tis some different from +spice-draught. Gee, wasn't that something fierce! I expect it kep' you +from pneumony, though!" + +Pippin held the lemonade to the boy's lips, and patted the pillows +tenderly, as a woman might. Meeting his eyes, dark with shame, misery, +and reproach, he beamed on him benevolently. + +"There!" he said. "I know how you feel. Look at it one way, 'twas a mean +trick I played you, a mean, low-down trick. I ask your pardon for that! +But look at here! I had to stop you, hadn't I? I'd passed my word, and, +too, the Lord bid me. No gettin' away from that. Well, now, if I'd sat +down there in the wood road that day, talked to you real fatherly and +pious, told you thus and so, and asked wouldn't you be a good boy and go +back to the farm and hoe potatoes--" The boy made a restless motion. +Pippin laid a quiet hand on his arm. "Rest easy! I'll come to that +presently! If I'd have done that, would you have listened to me? Not +you! You'd ha' laughed at me for a gospel shark, and you'd have up and +gone after that mean skunk (you notice he never turned round to look +what become of you?) fast as you could pick up your heels. Then what? +Say you'd caught up with him and gone on to the next town, and started +in breakin' and enterin'! Well, what say? Why, then you'd ben pinched +and run in. Yes siree Bob! You never was built for a crook, my lad; +you're too slow, and you're too--call it clumpsy. You've no quicksilver +in your toes, nor yet in your fingers. You'd ben run in, and then you'd +gone to Shoreham. First offense, they might let you off with six +months--more likely a year, but _say_ six months! For six months, then, +you'd worked as you never worked before in your little life, alongside +of men--well--the Lord made 'em, amen!--only they ain't the kind you're +used to. What I would say, there's no _ro_mance about Shoreham, not a +mite, and don't you forget it! (Say, ain't this a dandy bed? I betcher! +And all ready for the man that comes after me. We'll come to that +bumby, too.) And if you try to hook it, or misbehave anyways, you get +put in solitary. Know what that means? It means four walls with nothin' +on 'em except the bricks, walls four feet apart one way and seven the +other, and a grated door between you and anything else. It means +twenty-four hours every day and each of 'em half of the whole, seems +though! No! You can't understand, 'cause you haven't ben there. It means +no word spoke or heard excep' when your victuals is passed in, and +mighty few then, and what there is is no special pleasure to hear. Now, +bo, that is what I've ben through, and that is what I've saved you from. +Now what about it? Did I do right, or did I do wrong?" + +"Right!" faltered the boy. "Oh, Moonlighter--" + +"Hold on! Forget that! My name's Pippin, and that's what you call me +from now on. I had to _show_ you what I used to be, or you'd never have +listened to me; _now_, I'm an honest man, and there's nobody I can't +look in the face. Pippin's my name, and straight is my natur'. Praise +the Lord! Amen! Well, sir, that is what I done. Now the question is, +what next? And here comes in Mr. and Mrs. Baxter. Well, those folks are +as good as they make 'em; they're as good as your Uncle and Aunt Bailey, +and more is not to be said. They know all about me, and all about you. +I'm leavin' 'em in a day or two, for good; and gorry, what do you think +them two Bakin' Angels is ready to do? They stand ready to take you and +make a baker of you. Now--rest easy! I got to get it all off my chest! +Bakin' is as nice a trade, as _pretty_ an all-round trade, as a man can +ask for in this world. If I hadn't other things I'd undertaken to +do--well, never mind that! Here you can stay, if you're a mind to, and +if you feel like you've had your bellyful of breakin' and enterin', and +like that; work in daylight and sunlight and free air, and eat choice +food, and hear kind, decent, pleasant language and never anything else. +That's what you've ben used to all your life, you'll say; yes, but +there's more to it. Here you are in a town, and folks all round you, +boys of your own age, nice clean fellers like you--you needn't winch! +The dirt ain't grimed into you yet; 'twill wash off, you see!--boys to +chin with, and play baseball with, and football; girls too, nice, +pretty, refined young ladies, comin' in to buy creamcakes, and--green +grass! I certingly shall miss those young ladies!--and--go to singin' +school evenin's, and church meetin', and like that, and--well, that, +sir, is what we offer, against the life of a crook. You balance them two +in your mind, and think it over a bit!" + +He made a motion with his hand, and turning his face away, was about to +take counsel with himself, when the boy spoke hastily. + +"Mr. Pippin," he said, "I--no need to think it over! I thank you a +thousand times. I'm a fool, but I didn't know it before. Now I see it +clear, and I thank you--I--I can't say what I feel, but I do sure feel +it. I'd stay here glad and thankful, and I'd do my best, sir, honestly I +would, and try to make good; but--but--" + +"Well?" Pippin's eyes were very bright, he bent forward eagerly. "Well, +youngster? What stands in the way?" + +"Aunt and Uncle!" broke forth the boy. "I've been mean--mean as dirt, +and they so good to me. If they'll let me, and if Mr. Baxter can wait, +say a week, I'll come back more thankful than I've words to say; but +first I must go home--and--" + +A thwack upon his shoulders, almost as loud as that of the peel an hour +before, sent him half out of bed. Looking up in terror, he saw Pippin +standing over him with shining eyes and outstretched hand. + +"Shake!" he said simply. "I've found what I was lookin' for. Let us +praise the Lord!" + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +THE CHAPLAIN READS HIS MAIL + + +The chaplain was sorting his morning mail. He did it deftly and quickly, +opening (with a thin-bladed paper knife; no ripping or tearing with +hasty fingers), glancing over, destroying, filing, or laying in the +"Answer immediately" pile. All this with his swift, careful fingers and +half of his careful mind; the other half was busy over problems. +Problems of Tom, of Dick, of Harry; problems mental, moral, physical. If +he could only keep them apart, how much simpler it would be! But the +three _would_ run together, act and react one upon the other. One of his +trusties was "wobbling," the guard told him; growing surly, careless, +shirking his work here and there, getting up steam, Wilson the guard +opined; liable to turn ugly any minute. What had happened? Well, he +thought his egg had been smaller than the rest, last egg day; he'd been +chewing the rag ever since. The chaplain sighed. What children they +were! + +He ran his eyes over a letter. It was from a prisoner's wife, begging to +know how Nate was. She had been sick; would chaplain please tell Nate +that was why she couldn't come last Tuesday? (Tuesday was visitors' +day.) The children was smart. Joe and Susy was at school, but Benny had +no shoes till she got her pay from the factory; she was working extra +time to try and have something left over from the rent. They would get +along all right till he, Nate, was out, and he could get a place right +off in the mill, she guessed. + +The chaplain sighed again, and laid the note on the growing pile of +"Answer immediately." Poor Susan! She worked so hard, and was so +hopeful! She always thought the last spree would remain the last; better +so! He shook his head, seeing Nate's weak, comely face, sodden with +drink. Poor Susan! Poor women! God help them all! + +He opened another letter, and learned that "yrs. respect'ly, Wm. +Billiam," hadn't got no work yet; no wun appeared to want him though he +show them the note, sir and sum sed when they was a plaice he shood have +it and a Nother man sed there wos not work enuf for strate men and he +gessed crooks wood haf to wate till the pigs begin to fly "but I +ramember wot you sed chapple In and i will keep strate sir you betcher +life excusin bad writin'." This letter, written all downhill with no +sign of punctuation, smudged and smeared by a not too clean shirtsleeve, +might have brought a smile to some faces, but the chaplain's face was +grave enough. The endless problem, the riddle without an answer. Not +work enough for the honest men; yet if the discharged criminal cannot +get work, how to prevent him from relapsing into crime? Who can blame +him? He goes out with his little newborn resolve, a feeble, tottering +thing, and tries for honest work. He has learned a trade behind the +bars, perhaps; he can make brooms and mats, weave rough baskets, cobble +shoes. He finds a dozen applicants before him. Questions are asked: +Where has he worked? What references can he give? If he tells the truth, +seven employers out of ten shake their heads. If he lies, he is found +out after a time and the result is the same; he is "bounced." Who can +blame the boss? Who can blame the man if--Round and round, over and +over! No royal road anywhere. Nothing to do but keep on trying. + +The chaplain raised his head, and the fighting look came into his eyes. +Keep on! Never say die! The scroll--his eyes fell on the letter with its +forlorn smudges; that one looked as if a tear had fallen and been wiped +off with a grimy hand--the scroll was growing clearer; slowly, yes, but +steadily. You had only to look back twenty years, ten years, five! Line +upon line, precept upon precept; here a little and there a little-- + +"Aha!" The word was spoken aloud, in a tone of pleased surprise. +"Pippin, I verily believe!" said the chaplain. He studied the +superscription a moment. How he had labored over those upstrokes! It was +a good hand now, though the scamp would never be a professor of +calligraphy. Then he opened the envelope and read as follows: + + DEAR FRIEND ELDER HADLEY RESPECTED SIR, + + This is to state that I am first rate and hoping the same in + regard to yourself and all friends there. Well Elder I am having + a bully time right straight along. I am still to Kingdom in the + bakery and grindin same as I last wrote but dont think I shall + stop much longer, though I like first-rate and if I felt the + Lord intended bakin for mine there's no dandier place, no sir + nor one where I'd feel more at home. If they was my own folks + they couldn't be kinder to me than what Mr. and Mrs. Baxter is. + But I have fixed them all right with a nice boy will step right + along and make an A 1 baker if he has his health which appears + rugged up to the present and he likes real well and so do they. + + Well Elder you said to tell you when I found a Leadin; well + sir I have, and it seems to squint like the Lord was showin me + His hand. I found a dandy place sir, the dandyest you ever see + and folks ekally so, and plenty of room; and savin this boy + like, or the Lord savin him through me is what I would say, made + me feel Elder I wanted to do _sompin for the boys_. Yes sir when + I see that dandy place and only a few old folks that pooty soon + their time would be up I thought fill that nice big house up + with boys and learn em farmin and gardenin and like that, why + twould be _great_ elder. Take kids like I was with no folks of + their own or bum ones which is worse; what I mean take em away + from the city and give em hens to take care of and feed the pigs + and learn ploughin and sowin and like that and live out doors + with a good house to come in nights and good food and some + person that knows boys and _feels for_ em and knows what some of + em has ben through, I think it would be great sir dont you. I + tell you Elder there's guys in there, and lifers some of 'em, if + they'd ben handled different when they was kids they'd _stayed_ + different yes sir they would and you said the same often. Now + what I mean is when I've got this present job done and found + that kid Im going to follow this lead, because I feel Elder the + Lord is leadin me yes sir He sure is. I opened the lids of the + Testament you give me and looked and first thing I see was "This + should ye have done and not to leave the other undone." Now + wouldn't that give you a pain and so it did me and I said lo + here was I like Samuel and I am Elder so help me. Mr. Bailey + would like it firstrate but he thinks twould take time I tell + him I want to start right in soon as I have this job done. I am + leavin tomorrow so no more from yours in the Lord and thanking + you kindly Elder I am sure for all you done. + + Yours resp'y. + PIPPIN. + +The chaplain read this effusion through twice, a thoughtful frown +knitting his brow, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. + +He tilted his chair back against the wall, and looked out of the window. +Pippin had been much in his mind since their parting two months before. +This was the second letter he had received from him. The first had been +written within a week of Pippin's leaving Shoreham, and told of his +finding Nipper Crewe dying by the roadside, and of the wheel that he +considered rightly his. That was a singular meeting, the chaplain +thought. The old sinner, full of evil deeds and memories, suspected of +many crimes large and small, yet so crafty withal and so passionately +bent on keeping out of prison that for the most part he had succeeded. +The chaplain shook his head, recalling one inmate and another, who, +shaking an impotent fist, choking with rage, had told how after the +"deal" for which he was "pinched," Nipper, the instigator of it, had +slipped quietly off under the very noses of the police. While his mate +and dupe was there, raging and choking, Nipper would be roaming the +country at large with his wheel, grinding more or less, observing a +great deal, planning the next neat little job. Yes, Nipper was a bad +one! And strange to think of Pippin's being chosen to comfort the old +sinner in his last hour and inherit the wheel that had been an innocent +_particeps criminis_ in so many "deals"! Well, Pippin could comfort him +if anyone could, thought the chaplain. + +Still looking out of the window, he let his thoughts run back to the +day--could it be two years ago? It seemed hardly more than as many +months--when he first saw Pippin. His first Sunday as prison chaplain! +He had accepted the call because it seemed right; a new hand seemed +needed--his thoughts ran off the track, as other visions came crowding +in; he brought them back with an effort. + +He felt anew, with almost the same shock of strangeness, the first +impression of seeing his new flock in chapel that day. The rows on rows +of faces, sharp or lowering, weak or silly or vacant, degenerate or +sodden, a few that were actually vicious--they were seldom _really_ +vicious, his poor boys. Suddenly a head lifted, and he saw the face as +of a strayed seraph; then presently heard the voice, as of the same +seraph at home, singing. The chaplain broke into a little laugh. + + Let the bright seraphim in burning row-- + +That line came insistently to his mind whenever he heard Pippin sing; +yet he knew perfectly well that Milton's seraphim were not singing, but +blowing their loud uplifted angel trumpets. Perhaps--perhaps voices and +trumpets were more alike there?--Anyhow, Pippin's voice had a trumpet +note in certain hymns that he specially loved. + +The process of Pippin's conversion--to call it that; the chaplain sought +for a better word, rejecting in turn a dozen or more--had been the +happiest episode of the two years. Plenty of good and cheerful and +hopeful things, but that--what _had_ it been like? Chipping off the +baked ashes--in Herculaneum, say--and coming upon the lucid marble of +some perfect statue? No! A statue was after all a statue, and could give +back no warmth. Mining, then, in dark and cold and foul air--poor boys! +there was so much good in the worst of them, though!--and finding a vein +of virgin gold--No! Gold was nothing but gold, after all. What--Ah! Here +it was! Fumbling with the keys of an organ in the dark, feeling about, +waking here a mutter, there a discord, there again a shriek--till +suddenly one struck the true chord and the music broke out like +sunlight--Or wasn't it after all just that, just sunlight, breaking from +a cloud-- + +"Come in!" the chair was brought hastily to its normal position. A guard +touched his cap in the doorway. "Beg pardon, sir, but French Bill has +broke loose. Keeper said you was to be told--" + +The chaplain was on his feet in an instant. "What has happened? Tell me +as we go along!" + +"Fell foul of Tom Packard with his bucket, and mauled him consid'able. +I've been lookin' for it these two days. Tom was waitin' at his table, +and Bill thought he give him a small egg o' purpose." + +"Dear me, sirs! Who is with him now?" + +The guard chuckled. "There's no one _with_ him! Anybody wouldn't be very +comf'table there just now. Jones is handy by, lookin' after him. You can +hear him now!" + +They could. A muffled roar, rising now and then into a bellow. As they +drew nearer, the roar became articulate, and resolved itself into a +sustained and passionate request for the blood, liver, and other vital +adjuncts of Thomas Packard. "Lemmegetaholdofhim--lemmegetaholdofhim!" +Coming down B corridor the clamor was deafening, echoed back from side +to side of the narrow passage; accompanied moreover by banging of fists, +kicking of feet against iron bars. The chaplain sighed and longed for +Pippin. Nobody could manage Bill like Pippin. He usually knocked him +down and sat on his chest singing "Onward, Christian Soldiers!" till the +fit was over. There wasn't a mite of harm in Bill, Pippin always +maintained, only he was nervous, and come to get worked up, he b'iled +right over. + +The other inmates of B corridor were listening to the uproar, some +laughing, others sympathizing with Bill or Tom, as the case might be. +Opposite the grated door of the cell a turnkey leaned against the wall, +a stolid, unmoved figure. "Here comes chaplain!" the murmur ran from +cell to cell; and every face was pressed eagerly against the grating. +"Here's chaplain! Chaplain'll sort him!" + +Bill himself seemed wholly unconscious of Mr. Hadley's approach. He was +a French Canadian, a slender, active fellow. In repose, his face was +gentle and rather pensive; now it was the face of a mad wildcat. Shaking +the bars with all his strength, he continued to pour out in a monotonous +roar his request for the vital organs, amply detailed and characterized, +of "Tompack_ard_!" + +The chaplain surveyed him quietly for a few minutes in silence; then +drew a small square phial from his pocket, and unscrewing the metal top, +held it between the bars to the man's nose. With a howl of +twenty-wildcat power the fellow let go the bars and staggered backward. +Instantly Hadley unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it +quickly after him. + +"Now then, Bill," he said quietly, "what's all this row?" + +Shaking and glaring, the man cowered in the farthest corner, rubbing his +nose, clutching his throat. + +"W'at you kill me for?" he muttered hoarsely. "W'at you kill me for, +_mon père_? I do you no harm!" + +"I haven't killed you. Sit down, Bill. You've been making a horrid row, +do you know it? And you've kicked the toe right out of your boot. Now +look at that! Those boots were new last month. You'll have to put a new +toe cap over that, or the Warden will have you up for untidiness." He +bent to examine the toe. "That's too bad! those new boots!" + +"I mend heem!" Bill bent eagerly beside him. "I mend heem good, _mon +père_! Warden nevaire see; I mak heem better as new." + +"Well, see you do! And while you're about it, I wish you would look over +my shoes, the pair you resoled for me, and see if you can't take the +squeak out of them. It doesn't do for the chaplain to go round with +squeaking boots, you know; he might disturb quiet fellows like you. By +the way, what was your row about, Bill? I heard you had been pitching +into Tom Packard." + +They had sat down on the bed, the better to examine the injured toe cap. +Bill looked up with a shrug, half ashamed, half sulky, wholly Gallic. +"He been treatin' me mean, long time, two t'ree days. He geeve me de +smalles' egg he can find for my breakfast; leetle, leetle, like pigeon's +egg." + +"Well, I got a bad egg the other day; halfway to a chicken it was; but I +didn't break the cook's head, as I understand you broke poor Tom's." + +"Yes! yes! I break hees head; I kill heem if I could. Yes, sir!" + +"And now you're ashamed, eh? You know you are, Bill, you may as well own +up." After some argument, Bill owned that he was ashamed and promised +amendment. "Then that's all right!" The chaplain rose with an air of +relief. "I'll speak a word to Father O'Neill, and he'll give you a nice +little penance, and you'll make it up with Tom. I'm going to see him +now, and I shall tell him you are sorry--yes, I shall, because you are, +you know, sorry and ashamed. But remember!" He drew out the square +green phial and held it up. "The next time you'll get it stronger!" + +The man recoiled in terror, clasping his hands over his nose. "_Non! +non, mon père!_ Not kill me again! W'at ees eet? W'at you call eet?" + +"Aromatic spirits of ammonia." The chaplain eyed the bottle gravely, +shook his head, and put it back into his pocket. "No joke, is it, Bill! +Well, good-by, old sport. Remember!" + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +NIPPER + + + A wealthy young Squire of Plymouth, we hear, + He courted a nobleman's daughter so dear, + And for to be married it was their intent, + All friends and relations had given their consent. + +So sang Pippin, on a July morning when all the world was singing too. +Bobolinks hovering, trilling, lighting, half mad with glee; catbirds +giving grand opera in the willows; thrushes quiring psalms in the +birches. Pippin stopped short as a dignified robin with the waistcoat of +an alderman perched on a blackberry vine at his elbow and poured out a +flood of liquid melody. "Like out of a jug!" said Pippin. "How d'you +s'pose he does it? Gorry to 'Liza, how _do_ you s'pose he does it! + + "A day was appointed to be the wedding day, + A young farmer was chosen to give her away; + But soon as the lady this farmer did spy, + She cried in her heart, "Oh, my heart!" she did cry. + +"Rest easy a spell, Nipper, and I'll rest too, and listen how he does +that." + +Nipper was the wheel. Setting it on the ground, Pippin sat down under a +wide-branching oak and listened while the robin, like a certain wise +thrush we know of, sang his song twice over, carefully and thoroughly. +Pippin, his head cocked much as the singer's was, noted each cadence, +and when the music ceased, repeated it in a clear, mellow whistle. +Robin, much intrigued, sang a third time, and a fourth, cocked his head +still further and listened critically. Pippin replied more correctly +than before; so it might have gone on indefinitely, but for an +inquisitive crow who came bustling down to see what it was all about. +Robin flew away scornfully, repudiating intercourse with crows; Pippin +flirted his handkerchief and told the intruder to be off with himself +for an old black juggins. + +Leaning against the oak bole, at peace with all mankind, Pippin listened +and looked, looked and listened. Presently he became aware of an +undertone of sound which made so perfect an accompaniment to the bird +concert that he had not at first distinguished it. In the fringe of +weeds beside the road a brook was murmuring over pebbles, gently, +persistently, wooingly. The July sun was hot; he had been walking since +sunrise. + +"I'll have me a wash!" quoth Pippin. + + "I'll have me a drink, and I'll have me a wash, + And then I'll be clean as a whistle, by--" + +He stopped abruptly: he had promised Mrs. Baxter not to say "gosh"; it +wasn't an expression she cared to hear him use, not real nice someways. + +"And Nipper shall have a bath too!" he said gleefully. "Nip, all the +bath you've had these two days is squatterin' in the dust like a hen. +I'll show you; just you wait!" Carrying the wheel, he plunged into the +green covert; the trees closed behind him. "Green grass!" said Pippin. + +There was grass, certainly, long rank grass, such as leans over in +graceful curves and dips into brooks. There were sweet rushes too, and +jewel weed, and cardinal flowers, which Pippin viewed with respectful +admiration, asking, now honestly did you ever? Flowing between these +lovely things, taking them quite as a matter of course, was the brook, +clear and brown--something like Pippin's eyes, I declare!--babbling over +mossy stones, with here a fairy cataract all cream and silver, there a +round pool where Pippin might have found a trout, if he had known +enough. But he did not know enough, knew in fact nothing whatever about +trout; they are not found in cellars, nor in any part of a slum. +Kneeling on a flat stone, he drank long draughts of delight, now from +his cupped palms, now in sheer boyish glee, putting his mouth to the +bubbling silver, letting it splash and tinkle over his face. No thought +of germs disturbed his joy; he knew no more of germs than of trout. + +Next he pulled off his shirt, pulled out his file and bestowed it safely +in a pocket, and producing a bit of soap, fell to splashing about at a +tremendous rate, sending trout, lucky bugs, germs and all helter-skelter +off in a fright. + +A sculptor, watching Pippin at his ablutions, would have wondered how +the child of the slums should have developed such muscles as rippled +under his brown satin skin. Pippin could have told him. Dod Bashford +kept his boys lithe and active as young eels; if they didn't move quick, +the rawhide curled about their backs and legs in good shape, Pippin +could tell the sculptor. Sometimes the vision would come back even now: +boys fighting in a cellar or in the reeking court outside, rolling over +and over on the ground, pommelling, kicking, scratching, biting--there +were no sporting rules in Bashford's gang. The big brute would stand +watching the little ones with an occasional "Go it, pup!" till he was +tired or bored, when "Hook it!" followed by the hiss and sting of the +rawhide, sent them apart, bleeding, cursing, often weeping with sheer +rage and unsated lust of battle. Gee! Remember that fight he had with +Nosey, last winter he was with Bashford? Slim, long-legged, snaky kind +of guy, Nosey was. Some like a fox; some like a rat, too, a sandy rat: +sharp p'inted nose on him. Gee! Pippin gave him a good one on that +p'inted nose. Gee! He didn't guess it had p'inted so straight since! + +Far enough from Bashford's, here in the green thicket, Pippin splashed +to his heart's content: at last, dripping and joyous, he rose and shook +himself like a water-dog, spattering the leaves and rushes with crystal +drops. "Green grass!" he sighed, "that was great!" Next he washed his +red handkerchief and his "other" pair of socks, and hung them on a bush +to dry; filed a callous on the sole of his foot that had made him walk +"pumple-footed" the last day or two; ran his fingers through and through +his hair till it curled like that of the Borghese Hermes. + +"Now it's Nipper's turn; come on, Nip!" + +He had grown fond of the wheel. It was a faithful creature, following +obediently whither he would, whizzing cheerfully, singing, Pippin made +no doubt, the only song was give it to sing. This last day or two, +though, it had developed a squeak and rattle that was new to him; +behooved him look her over and see what was loose. + +Having wiped the dust off and oiled the whole apparatus, he proceeded to +examine it carefully, inch by inch. He had done this many times before; +had in fact kept the little machine in apple-pie order, partly for its +own sake and his, partly as in duty bound to the departed Nipper. Old +Nipper! He had been a rip, Pippin reflected, same as Old Man Blossom; +but yet he sure had done him a good turn leaving him the wheel. +Now--here was a thing had oftentimes puzzled him of late--what did Old +Man Blossom know about Nipper? They might have been pals, he presumed +likely; birds of a feather, you know! Well, yes, that; but Old Man +seemed to have some hunch about the wheel; laffed fitterbust, and said +them things, you rec'lect. Pippin had studied 'em over and studied 'em +over, but he didn't get no-- + +A clock strikes when it is ready, not before. Pippin's clock struck now. +Something he had never yet touched, or never in the right way, moved +under his hand. A click, and the metal plate bearing the maker's name +slid aside, revealing a long narrow cavity. Who could have guessed such +a possibility in the compact little contrivance? With a smothered "Gee!" +Pippin peered eagerly into the hole or box, thrust in his hand, and +brought out a small object. He turned it over and over in his hand, +still muttering suppressed "Gee's!" opened it, and sat staring, +motionless. + +A leather case containing a set of small tools. Nothing strange about +that, Pippin, is there? Very ingenious to pack in this little space the +tools needed for his trade! Clever Nipper! Why do you stare so, Pippin, +and why does your face flush under its wholesome tan? + +His eyes riveted to the tools, Pippin sank down on the grass. He handled +them, one by one, and a bright spark came into his eye. + +"Green grass!" he muttered. "Now wouldn't that--" + +If you or I had looked over his shoulder, we should have seen at once +that some of these were unfamiliar tools. A screw driver--yes! a pair of +nippers--yes! a file--yes! but what were these three little shining +objects which Pippin was fitting together with eager, trembling fingers? +Now they are joined and make a slender bar of solid steel, one end +flattened to a sharp edge. That is a jimmy, and Pippin is looking with +shining eyes at a miniature but perfect set of burglar's tools. + +"Now wouldn't that--" said Pippin. Sitting back on his heels, he took +the tools out one by one and examined them carefully, handling them +like a lover, whistling meantime, slowly and thoughtfully, the air +devoted to the aged steeple-climber. He ran his eye along their edges; +he rang them on a stone to test their perfection. "_Com_-plete!" he +muttered. "These certingly are a complete outfit. Now I ask you +honest, would--not--that--give you a pain in your--" Pippin confused +the human interior with the gallinaceous. How should he know that we +have no gizzard? + +"Old Nipper!" he continued. "Only to think of the slickness of him! Went +round with his wheel, innocent appearin' as you please, and when he saw +a likely crib, he'd up and crack it with these little daisies, just as +easy--" + +He stopped abruptly, as a light broke in upon him. _This_ was what Old +Man Blossom meant. This was why he laffed and 'most had a pupplectic +fit; and no wonder! Here was he, Pippin, singing and praying, and all +the time taking a cracksman's kit along with him wherever he went! No +wonder the old rip laughed! Now question was, what to do with 'em? + +What say? No one was near; he was alone in the green murmuring place; +yet some one did certainly seem to be speaking. Pippin cocked his ear to +listen. + +A shame to destroy good tools, pretty set like this, prettiest he ever +saw or like to see? Might come in handy for any kind of work--even the +jimmy? Any one might want to use a bar--farmin' like, or-- + +The strong brown fingers seemed to close of themselves, without will of +his, round the tools, fondling them. Something like quicksilver ran +crinkling through him-- + +"Now HONEST!" said Pippin. "Just watch me, will you?" + +A flash in the sunlight where it broke through the leafy screen; a +silver splash--the lucky bugs scattered in terror, and a solemn bullfrog +tumbled headfirst off the stone from which he had been watching. Another +flash and splash, and now a whole shower of them. Sang Pippin: + + "There was an old man, + And he was mad, + And he ran up the steeple. + He took off + His great big hat, + And waved it over the people!" + +Later, he sat under the wayside oak and communed with himself. How did +he account for that? he asked. Honest, now, wouldn't it gave you a pain? +Here he was, the Lord's boy, a professin' Christian, belongin' to every +church they was, he expected, startin' out all so gay to do the Lord's +work, and Him knowledgeable to it, and helpin' along; and then all in a +minute some part of him--something he couldn't get a holt of--give a +jump, and _wanted_ them things, wanted 'em like--Gorry to 'Liza! You +couldn't have no idea _how_ he wanted 'em! and yet 'twasn't him, +neither: all the time he was lookin' on, you might say, struck all of a +heap. Now how would you make that out? Honest, how would you? + +After some thought, Pippin expected that it was the devil. He was always +round, you know, like a roarin' line, seekin' whom he could devour 'em +up. Behooved him keep a sharp lookout! + +_But_, said another part of his brain, ekally the Lord was round, and +more so, let him bear in mind. The Lord was mindful of His own; Elder +Hadley had wrote that in the Testament and Psalms he give him, and 'twas +_so_; and the Lord was stronger than the devil, never let Pippin have no +doubts about that. + +"You bet He is!" Up went Pippin's head; he smote his knee with a +resounding smack. "You bet He is! Satan, you beat it while your shoes +are new! I've got no more use for you, and don't you forget it!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +ENTER MARY-IN-THE-KITCHEN + + +In a certain pleasant suburb--yes, the city has pleasant suburbs, though +when you are in the slums you do not believe it--stands a white house +with green blinds. It stands in the middle of a square yard (by which I +mean an inclosure, not a measure of space); its front looks on a +pleasant street, with a sidewalk, and sentinel maples set at regular +intervals; the back gives, as the French say, on a road that is not yet +paved, with neither sidewalk nor maples, only a straggling procession of +elms, with grass or dust, as may happen, under foot. Yet it is more +sympathetic, some people think, than the proper street, and +Mary-in-the-kitchen, whose windows both above and below stairs look out +upon it, privately thinks she has the best part of the house. So thinks +the visitor in the back corner room, too; but we have not come to him +yet. + +Mary-in-the-kitchen is not in it just now. She is in the yard, hanging +out the clothes, for all the world like the maid in the nursery song. +She is standing on a raised platform; her face is toward the house, her +back toward the road. So standing, with her arms raised, pinning linen +along a line, Mary is such a picture that you really must stop and look +at her. She is neither tall nor short, but just the right height, and +her blue cotton gown takes the lines and curves of as pretty a figure as +ever sculptor sighed for. Her forehead is broad and smooth, and her +hair ripples round it as if for pure pleasure. Her brows are black and +straight, her lashes black and curled, and her eyes violet blue with +brown shadows; you may see the color in clear water when the wind +ruffles it. A short straight nose, a chin like Mary Donnelly's, "very +neat and pert, and smooth as a china cup," a mouth with kisses tucked in +at the corners: all these things Mary has, and her hair beside. Hair too +dark for gold, too bright for brown; rather like October oak leaves when +the sun shines through them at a certain angle--but you must know the +right kind of oak. Well, then, like a red heifer, a yearling, when her +coat is new and glossy in the spring. There is so much of it that Mary +hardly knows what to do with it; being a very tidy girl, she has it well +braided and pinned in shining coils at the back of her head, but little +tendrils will escape and curl round her face just because they cannot +keep away; and on the nape of her neck are two little curls that know +themselves for the prettiest in the world. + +If you asked Mary what she was, she would reply promptly, "A scientific +general." By this she would not mean that she was prepared to conduct +warfare on approved modern principles; not at all. She means that she +has taken courses in General Housework at a certain Institute; and that +she is able to do (and does) the work of two "domestics" of yesterday's +class, with ease and precision. It stands to reason--Mary's favorite +phrase--that she would. Knowing not only how but why a thing should be +done, you know what came next, and there you were, all ready. So Mary +was the joy and comfort of her employers ("the nicest folks in the +world!") and the distraction of all the youthful tradesmen of the +suburbs. And here I am still keeping her standing on that platform with +her arms uplifted, pinning the tablecloth on the line. Scientific +generals do not wash clothes nowadays, nor any other generals for that +matter, but this was the employeress's best tablecloth, and Mary knew +the stuff the laundry put in, and see beautiful linen destroyed was a +thing she could not; it stood to reason. + +The intelligent reader knows why I am keeping her there; I do not even +attempt to deceive him. Yes, Pippin is coming round the corner this +moment. Here he is, wheel and all; high time, too, says the intelligent +reader. He is walking slowly, not looking round him, as is his wont, +with quick, darting glances, but with intent look fixed on the ground a +little way ahead, as if he were searching for something; as indeed he +is. Pippin is very busy this morning. He has just established ten or +twenty boys (he is not sure which) in Cyrus Poor Farm, and he is now +looking for the right kind of guy to teach them the use of their hands. +He has never heard of manual training--Bashford taught it in a way, but +it was called by other names--but there were several guys in There +(remember that this meant Shoreham) that would have made first-rate +mechanics, give 'em the chance. Now take 'em young, and--why--why-- + +At this point Fate tapped Pippin smartly on the shoulder. He looked up, +and saw Mary on the platform, with her back to him, pinning out the +tablecloth. + +Cyrus Poor Farm vanished, boys and all! "Green grass!" said Pippin. He +stopped short, and silently bade himself see if there wasn't some pictur +to look at. He joyfully absorbed Mary, from head to trim feet and back +again, his eyes resting finally on the nape of her neck where the two +little curls were displaying themselves, and on the heavy coils of +shining hair. Now _there_ was a color! 'Twas the color of a hoss +chestnut--no! lighter than that. A bay hoss, then--bright bay, kind o' +squintin' toward sorrel; no! lighter than that. Green grass! 'Twas like +a heifer, a yearlin' heifer. Now--Pippin smote his thigh lightly--that +was the very color Old Man Blossom named in regards to his little gal. +Now would you call that a reminder, p'inter like, fear he should forget? +Or was it showin' him that gals as had a chance might grow up beauts +like this young lady? No, he hadn't see her face, that was a fact, +but--here Mary turned round. + +Probably neither thought anything in that minute they stood at gaze, +save that here was the goodliest person ever seen of their respective +eyes; as to how the Fates busied themselves at the time, I am not in a +position to say, but the next moment, when Pippin pulled off his cap and +smiled, and Mary smiled back, possibly--I cannot say--exceptionally keen +ears might have heard the whir of Clotho's distaff. + +To both the smile seemed somehow familiar; it was as if--this was not +thought, only a sunlit gleam of something too far and bright to +recognize--as if each had known how the other would smile; thus, and not +otherwise the gracious lines would curve and melt and deepen. How is +this? Is there no flash of vision, Pippin? Think! Pippin is too +bewildered to think. + +"Mornin'!" said Pippin. "Nice day!" + +"Real nice!" Mary assented. + +"Havin' nice weather right along; seasonable, you might say. Any knives +or scissors to grind, lady?" + +"Why, I don't know!" Mary came daintily down the steps of the platform +(demonstrating the while a seeming impossibility, that her foot was as +pretty as the rest of her), and advanced, looking from Pippin to the +wheel and back again. "Are you a p'fessional?" she asked. + +"That's what! I expect I can give satisfaction, knives, scissors, or +tools; anything except razors; them I don't undertake. Like to have a +look at the wheel, lady? She's a beaut, too--what I would say, Nipper is +her name, not a female name, but all she's got--same as me." + +"Nipper!" the girl paused a fraction of a second. It was as if some +faint air stirred, not enough to ruffle ever so delicately the clear +pool of memory; it passed and was gone. "'Tis a pretty wheel!" said +Mary. + +"Take it from me, lady, she's O.K., the Nipper is. Runs slick as greased +lightning; I'd show you if you had a knife handy." + +"I'll fetch the carving knife!" said Mary. "It's dull as anything." + +She vanished, to the perceptible darkening of the daylight, but soon +reappeared, bringing not only the sun but a handful of knives, big and +little. + +Looking at them, and still more closely at the strong shapely hand that +proffered the first of them, an idea came to Pippin, which he withheld +for the moment. He took the carving knife, pronounced it a dandy but +been used some. + +"Now watch me, lady!" he said. + +A pretty trade! Temp'ry, as Pippin never failed to assure himself, but +pretty. See now how lovingly he lays the blade to the wheel. His foot +presses the pedal, and the wheel turns; slowly at first, then faster and +ever faster till all Mary sees is a blur of gray and blue with now and +then a darting spark. Pippin, holding the blade tenderly yet firmly +against the flying stone, bends over it intent; then as the edge begins +to fine and taper, he whistles, then hums under his breath, finally +breaks out into full-throated song: + + "Knives and scissors to grind, oh! + Have 'em done to your mind, oh! + Large and small, + Damaged and all, + Don't leave any behind, oh! + + "Knives and scissors to grind, oh! + Every specie and kind, oh! + Bring 'em to me, + _And_ you will see + Satisfaction, you'll find, oh!" + +Mary looks and listens; looks first at the wheel, then at the man. On +him her eyes linger, studying his trim khaki-clad figure (his new road +suit, a parting gift from Mrs. Baxter, a good wish set in every stitch), +his close-curling hair, the sharp, bold chiseling of cheek and chin. My! +thinks Mary, if he's as good as he is lookin'! + +A distant whistle sounds; a clock in the kitchen strikes twelve, with an +insistence almost personal. Mary jumps up from the step where she has +been sitting with her feet tucked under her and her hands clasping her +knees. There! She's no idea 'twas so late. She must go in and get +dinner. She thanks him ever so; that is an elegant edge. How much, +please? + +Pippin, resisting the impulse to say, "Nothing at all to _you_!" names +his lowest price. Mary runs into the house for the change, and again the +sun goes and comes with her. "How about the other knives?" she asks, a +little breathless with her run. Will he finish them now, and bring them +in, or-- + +Pippin will come again, if 'tis all the same to her. He does not think +it necessary to say that this was the idea that had come to him, winning +his instant approval. If he times his coming so as to do one knife a +day--why--there's quite a plenty of knives and mebbe she'd scare up some +scissors too--Pippin sees a long vista of Mary-brightened days +stretching before him. He bids her good day--since it must be so--almost +cheerfully. Then, if agreeable, he'll see her again soon. "So long, +lady!" + +Mary stands looking after him--it is strange (or not, 'cordin' to, as +Mrs. Baxter would say) how often people stand looking after Pippin when +he goes away--till conscience nips her sharply; and she flies into the +kitchen and all in a moment becomes severely scientific and unbelievably +general, executing amazing manoeuvres with saucepans and +double-boilers. So scientific is she that when an amorous greengrocer +looks in with suggestions of spinach and strawberries, he is hustled off +in short order with a curt, "Nothing to-day, thank you!" He hesitating +in the doorway with the information that it is a fine day, Mary, with +some asperity, presumes likely, but has not time to look. Now, Mary! As +if you had not been a good half-hour out on that clothes platform! + +She is even a little--a very little short with her employeress, who saw +the departing grocer from her window and thinks they might have liked a +box of strawberries. Her brother is fond of-- + +"He's fonder of shortcake!" Mary says briefly, "and it's all ready in +the 'frigerator." Relenting, she explains with her own particular smile +that there was enough strawberries left from supper last night, and she +remembered that the Elder liked her shortcake last time he was here. +"Besides," she adds irrelevantly, "'twas that fellow with the crooked +nose, and I do despise him. He's always making excuses to hang round +when I'm extra busy." + +This was not really meant as a hint, but still the employeress vanished +promptly; to see to something, she said. Mary's smile was even more in +evidence at dinner, when the employer complimented her on the carving +knife. + +"Mary, what have you been doing to this knife? It was dull as a hoe +yesterday, and now it's a Toledo blade. I didn't get you the steel you +asked for, either!" + +Mary, standing at attention with an extra plate, an entrancing vision in +blue and white, just enough flushed from her manoeuvres over the +stove, dimples and smiles and says it _is_ a lovely edge, she does +think. A knife-grinder came along, this morning, and he did appear to be +a master hand. He did it just as easy! + +"Knows his business!" The employer, who is "in" wholesale cutlery, runs +the eye of a connoisseur along the blade. "I'd like to turn him on to my +pruning shears. Keep a lookout for him, will you, Mary? He may come by +again!" + +Mary demurely promises to do so. The visitor, who is the employeress's +brother, a quiet man in clerical dress, yet with a certain military air +and carriage, and blue eyes as keen as they are kind, notices that the +girl's color deepens a little, and that a new and distracting dimple +appears at the corner of her mouth, as if a smile were trying to escape. + +"If I were in the habit of betting," he says when Mary has left the +room, "I would lay a considerable sum that the knife-grinder will come +again, and moreover, that he is young and possibly not ill looking!" + +"I certainly would if I were he!" says the employer heartily. "I'd go +round a block just to look at Mary!" + +The employeress here develops dimples of her own, and says there is a +pair of them, and they'd better let her Mary alone, or there will be +trouble. + +"There are enough people going round blocks to look at Mary as it is!" +she says. "She's not that kind, either. She huffed Babbitt's man right +out of the kitchen to-day, before I had time to get downstairs." + +The visitor says nothing. He did not see the knife-grinder, being too +busy with his writing--he was preparing a paper for a conference--to +look out of the window; but he has a strong impression that he, the +knife-grinder, had not been huffed out of the yard an hour or so ago. +And here was Mary with the shortcake! + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +PIPPIN LOOKS FOR OLD MAN BLOSSOM'S LITTLE GAL + + +Back to the city, Pippin! Leafy suburbs, irradiated by clothes-hanging +goddesses, are all very well, but they are not your affair; or if they +are, you do not know it. All you know is that you have to find a girl, a +girl whose rightful name is May Blossom, but likely changed o' purpose +to keep the old man from finding the kid, and small blame to her Ma for +that. + +Pippin goes over in his mind such scant information as he possesses. May +Blossom was put in some kind of a Home joint, being then, the Old Man +would judge, six year old, or a year off or on it. Pretty little +gal--pretty little gal--Pippin's mind comes to a dead stop. + +He brushes his hand across his eyes. The vision is upon him, but only to +confuse and bewilder. An alley, or narrow court, where clothes are +drying. A mite of a girl trying to take the clothes down. She cannot +reach them, stamps her feet, cries; a boy comes and takes them down for +her. + +"Thank you, boy!" she says. + +"Say 'Pippin!'" + +"Pip-_pin_!" + +"Green grass!" Pippin murmurs. "Now--now--could that have been her? He +always said he'd knowed me from a baby; said he lived neighbor to Granny +Faa--I never believed him special; but he sure was a pal of Bashford's. +Now wouldn't it give you a pain if that little gal was his little gal; +wouldn't it?" + +What he had to do now was find what Homes there was, and ask what become +of a little gal name of May Blossom--or anyways looking thus and so. +Pippin smote his thigh, and threw back his head. + + "One thing at a time, + You'll earn a dime: + Six things in a pickle + You'll lose a nickel! + +like Mr. Baxter says. Now watch me find that joint!" + +We cannot watch Pippin through this search, which took several days. +True, there were only two Children's Homes in the city; but the +approaches to them were devious, and Pippin's methods were his own. +First he must find a bakery in the neighborhood of the Home, the one +most nearly approaching the perfection of Baxter's. Here he must linger +for an hour or more, talking bakery gossip, discussing yeast, milk +powder, rotary ovens, and dough dividers; sharpening the knives, too, +mostly for brotherly love, for was not he a (temp'ry) baker as well as +knife-grinder? Here he would ask casually about the joint whose red +brick or gray stone walls towered near by. Home for kids, was it? Well, +that was a dandy _i_dea, sure! Did the baker supply--did? Had their own +baker, but took his buns and coffee-cake reg'lar? He wanted to know! +Well, talkin' of coffee-cake--here yarns might be swapped for a matter +of half an hour. Then the baker would be asked what kind of a man the +boss was? Or was she a woman? Was? Well--well, even if so! Thursday was +visitors' day, was it? Well, he wouldn't wonder a mite but what he'd +look in there some Thursday. Pretty to see a lot of kids together, +what? + +His first visit to the stone Home with the mullioned windows was a short +one. The black-robed superintendent was courteous, but cool; she was not +interested in either grinding or bakeries. There had been several +red-haired girls at the Home in her time, but none named Mary Blossom, +none corresponding with Pippin's description. Was he a relative? No? She +was much occupied--"Good morning!" + +"She don't want no boes in hers!" said Pippin thoughtfully, as he bore +Nipper out of the paved courtyard. "I don't blame her, not a mite!" + +At the red-brick Home with the green fanlight over the door his +reception was more cordial. The kindly, rosy face of the Matron beamed +responsive to his smile. The morning was bright, and she had just heard +of a thousand-dollar legacy coming to the Home, so her own particular +shears needed sharpening, and she superintended the process (she had a +grass plot to stand on, too, instead of a pavement) and they had a good +dish of talk, as she told the Assistant later. + +Hearing Pippin's brief account of his quest, she meditated, her mind +running swiftly back over the years of her superintendence. + +"A child of six or eight!" she repeated thoughtfully. "With hair like a +yearling heifer's! Why, we have had many children with red hair; the +sandy kind, and the bricky, and the carrotty--_and_ the auburn; but none +of them sound just like the child you describe. Then, the parents! You +never saw the mother, you say? What was the father like?" + +"Like a crook!" said Pippin promptly. + +"Dear me! That is a pity. Can you describe him? Not that I ever saw him, +but the child might have resembled him--" + +"Not her!" Pippin averred confidently. "The old man never looked like +anything but--well, call it mud and plaster, and you won't be far off. +Now the little gal was a pictur. Hair like I said, and eyes--well, first +they'd be blue and then they'd be brown, like in runnin' water; know +what I mean? And the prettiest way of speakin' you ever--" + +"_Why, you've seen her!_ You didn't say you had seen her." + +Pippin looked helplessly into the clear gray eyes that had suddenly +grown sharp and piercing. "I--don't--know!" he said. + +"Don't know what?" + +"Whether I see her, or whether I just--" He stopped to sigh and run his +fingers through his hair, almost knocking his file out. "I expect I'll +have to explain!" he said. + +"I think you will!" The tone was not harsh, but it was firm and decided. +The Matron had seen many people, and was not to be beguiled by the +brightest eyes or the most winning smile. Moreover, the "pictur" Pippin +had conjured up had brought a corresponding image on her mental +kinetoscope; she, too, saw the child with eyes like running water and +the prettiest way of speaking; saw and recognized. + +Pippin sighed again. + +"When I say I don't know," he said slowly, "it's because I don't! Just +plain that! When I said the way that gal looked, it--well, it's like it +wasn't me that said it, but somebody else inside me. Why, I spoke it +right off like it was a piece: 'twas as if _somebody_ knew all along +what that little gal looked like. Now--" + +The Matron took him up sharply. "As if somebody knew? What do you mean +by 'somebody'?" + +Light came to Pippin. Why, of course! + +"I expect it's a boy!" he said. + +"What boy?" + +"I expect it's the boy I used to be. I forget him most of the time, but +nows and thens he speaks up and gives me to understand he's there all +right. You see, lady, when I was a boy, there was a little +gal--somewheres near where I lived, I expect; and she had--yes, she sure +had hair that color, and eyes that same kind. And when you spoke just +now, it all come back, and seemed like 'twas the boy tellin', not me in +a present way of speakin'. I don't know as you see what I'm drivin' at, +but I don't know as I can put it any plainer." + +"What kind of boy were you?" + +"Guttersnipe!" + +"Where did you live?" + +Pippin described the cellar as well as he could. It was no longer in +existence, he had ascertained that. Where it had yawned and stunk, a +model tenement now stood prim and cheerful. + +The Matron looked grave. Her clear gaze pierced through and through the +man, as if--his own homely simile--she would count the buttons on the +back of his shirt. + +"What references have you?" she asked presently. + +"References?" Pippin looked vague. + +"Yes! I don't know anything about you--except that you are certainly a +good scissor-grinder!" she smiled, half relenting. "You want to know +about one of our girls--about some one who might have been one of our +girls--" she corrected herself hastily--"and you say you were a +guttersnipe and her father was a crook. Young man, our girls have +nothing to do with crooks or guttersnipes, you must understand that. +Unless you can refer me to some one--" her pause was eloquent. + +"I wish't Elder Hadley was here!" said Pippin. "He'd speak for me, +lady!" + +"Elder Hadley? Where does he live?" + +Pippin sighed, fingered his file, sighed again. Easy to tell his story +to Jacob Bailey and Calvin Parks, the good plain men who had known good +and evil and chosen good all their lives long; less easy, but still not +too hard, to tell it to the kind Baxters who knew and loved him: but +here, in the city, to a woman who knew crooks and guttersnipes and +probably feared or despised them--not easy! Still-- + +"You see, lady," said Pippin, "'tis this way." + + * * * * * + +The Matron heard his story, listening attentively, now and then putting +a shrewd question. When it was over, she excused herself, not unkindly +but with a grave formality unlike her first cheerful aspect. She must +attend to something in the house. If he could wait ten or fifteen +minutes-- + +"Sure!" said Pippin. "And I might be sharpening the meat knife or like +that? I'll throw it in for luck." + +While he was sharpening the meat knife (which, he said to himself, had +been used something awful; you'd think they'd gone over it with a +crosscut saw!), he heard a cheerful hubbub in the street outside; +distant at first, then louder, as turning a corner; louder still, as +close at hand; till with a deafening outburst of treble and alto the +gate of the courtyard was flung open, and-- + +"Green grass!" cried Pippin. "Here's the kids!" + +Here they were indeed, just out of school, rosy, tousled, jubilant: boys +and girls, the former small, the latter all sizes from kindergarten +toddlers to the big sixteen-year-old maiden to whose skirts they clung. +At sight of a strange man they checked, and the hubbub fell into sudden +silence; only for a moment, though, for Pippin smiled, and in another +minute they were all around him, hustling and elbowing to get the +closest sight of the wheel. + +"Easy!" said Pippin. "Easy does it! Don't come too nigh her; she bites!" +There was an instant recoil, with symptoms of possible flight. "What I +would say," he went on, "she'll bite if you touch her; no other ways. +Look with your eyes and not your hands! _And not your hands!_" + +A swift shove of his elbow saved the fingers of a small boy who thought +he knew better, and sent him back upon his more prudent neighbors. +Shouts resounded. + +"Jimmy got his!" + +"Yeh! Jim-_may_! You got yours!" + +The culprit faced round with crimson cheeks and doubled fists. He had +only been at the Home a few weeks, and fighting was still his one form +of argument; a snub-nosed, freckled bull pup of a boy. Pippin observed +him, and liked his looks. + +"Say!" said Pippin. "Look at here! Want to hear her sing?" + +"Hear who sing, Mister?" + +"The wheel! Stow your noise a sec., while I ask her." He bent over the +wheel and seemed to speak and listen. The children waited open-mouthed, +goggle-eyed. "Says she's got a cold," he announced cheerfully, "and +feels bashful beside! Say, I'll have to sing for her. What say?" + +"Yep, Mister! Do, Mister! Sing, Mister!" came in chorus. + +"O.K. You'll have to keep still, though. I'm bashful myself, you see. +Now then--Where's the smallest kid? Here, kiddy! Come to Pippin! Don't +be skeered, he won't bite nuther. Gimme your hands--that's a daisy! Now +then-- + + "There was an old man, + And he was mad--" + +When the Matron appeared again, accompanied by an older woman of severe +aspect, Pippin was sitting on the cellar door, half-buried in children. +One little imp was sitting astride his neck, hammering time on his chest +with sturdy heels; a six-year-old girl clung to either shoulder, two or +three more were on his knees, the rest sat or knelt or squatted as close +as they could get; and Pippin, his head thrown back, his eyes fixed on +the maple leaves overhead, was shouting at the top of his lungs: + + "Darling, I am growing o-hold! + Silver threads among the gold + Shine upon my brow to-day-hay, + Life is fading fast away!" + +As the song ended, before the Matron could make her presence known, the +bull pup known as Jimmy fell silently upon his nearest neighbor, a boy +somewhat bigger than himself, and pommeled him ferociously. The victim +shrieking aloud, Pippin seized the pup by the scruff of his neck, +dragged him off, and held him at arm's length, wriggling and clawing the +air, his eyes darting fire. + +"What ails you?" demanded Pippin. "What d'he do?" + +"Didn't do nothin'!" wailed the bigger boy. + +"He picked on me!" raged the smaller. + +"Didn't neither!" + +"Did teither! And pinched m' leg beside! Lemme go!" + +"Yeth, Mithter!" piped a five-year-old. "He did pinch him! I thee him do +it!" + +"Hold still, pup! hold still! I'm bigger'n you be. Now then, you, leave +him be, you hear me? I expect you did pinch him all right, all right; +you look like a pincher. Now look at here! Can you wrestle, you two?" + +"Betcher life!" "Nope!" came in a fiery yap and anguished yelp from the +two. + +"Green grass! What are you made of? Putty, or dough-scrapin's?" This to +the yelper, while still holding the yapper well in hand. "Now if we +could make a ring, and leave you fight it out sensible, and--" + +The Matron stepped quickly forward. Pippin, aware of her, scrambled to +his feet, shaking off (very gently, be sure) all but the urchin on his +neck, who only clung the tighter; and still holding the bull pup--by the +collar now--he beamed on the Matron. + +"I was sayin', lady," he said, "that if you'd leave me make a ring, and +these two pups fight it out, we'd see which would lick, and they'd be +friends from now on. What say?" + +The Matron said, "No!" decidedly, and at a word from her the children +scuttled into the house by their side door, albeit with many a backward +glance. + +Pippin looked longingly after the freckled pup. "There's a kid I like!" +he said. "I could do something with that kid if I had him. 'Tother one's +a low-down skeezicks by the look of him. Here's the knife, lady; I hope +it's satisfactory." + +It was; but the two ladies desired a word with Pippin indoors, if he +could leave his wheel. Pippin expected he could; he'd never knowed the +Nipper to bolt, nor even shy. "After you, ladies!" Now who taught Pippin +to hold the door open and bow with the grace of a young birch in the +wind? + +The Matron wondered, but said nothing. The three passed into a cool +inexpressive parlor which had no opinion about anything, and sat down on +three Mission chairs to match. + +"This is Mrs. Faulkner," said the Matron; "the Assistant Matron. I am +Mrs. Appleby. Your name is--?" + +"Pippin, ma'am!" + +"Pippin--what?" + +"Pippin Nix--what I would say, it's all the name I've got. Not bein' +acquainted with my parents--you see--" + +"I see! It seems a curious name--The point is this. Mrs. Faulkner and I +think we know--" + +"Think we may possibly know!" struck in Mrs. Faulkner, speaking for the +first time, and then shutting her mouth with a snap as if she feared a +word too much might escape. + +"--May possibly know," Mrs. Appleby corrected herself, "the girl you are +looking for." + +"_Green grass!_ Is that so?" Pippin smote his thigh, was confounded, and +asked pardon, all in a breath. + +Mrs. Faulkner bent severe brows on him, and Pippin reflected what a +blessing it was Mrs. Baxter didn't ever look like that. + +"We keep in touch with our girls," Mrs. Appleby continued, "till they +marry or reach the age of twenty-five. The young woman we have now in +mind is eighteen years old, and a very fine girl." + +"Gee! Ain't that great? Where'll I find her, lady?" + +"Remain seated, if you please! We will come to that presently. We know +her under a name slightly different from the one you have heard. Mrs. +Faulkner remembers that her mother told her she had altered the name in +order that the father should not trace the child." + +"Now wouldn't that--" murmured Pippin. "Say, she was a daisy, wasn't +she?" + +"She was perfectly right!" Mrs. Faulkner's aspect was rigid to the point +of awfulness. "She was a decent woman, and wished her child decently +brought up. Her husband was a reprobate!" + +"Meanin' long for 'rip'?" Pippin leaned forward eagerly, with pleading +eyes and voice. "He sure was, lady! Yep, Old Man Blossom was a rip from +Riptown, and so remains; but yet there never was any _harm_ in him. What +I would say--he's a crook, and a bo, and not the guy for family life +anyways you look at it; but he never was a _mean_ guy. He never hit from +behind; there was no sandbaggin' in his; just he'd give you one on the +jaw if he couldn't cop the swag without, you see. Now that's square, you +see, _for_ a crook! But--" Mrs. Faulkner's eyes glared wholly +unresponsive. He glanced at Mrs. Appleby, and seeing, or thinking he +saw, a faint glimmer that might mean an inward twinkle, addressed +himself to her. + +"You see how 'tis, lady! And now he's on the blink--that is, near his +end, you see, and he wants his little gal; wants her bad. And--bein' a +bo myself, it ain't for me to p'int out things to ladies like youse, but +if she's the kind of gal like you say, mightn't she think, say, 'Well, +after all, he's my dad, and I'm his kid, and 'twon't do me a mite of +harm to give him a look in.' What say?" + +"You say he is dying?" said the elder woman. "Has he suffered any change +of heart? Does he repent of his evil ways?" + +"Not yet he ain't!" Pippin flushed and his hands clenched; he seemed to +hear the snicker once more. "But the way I look at it is this, lady!" He +bent forward again, all shyness gone now, his brown face aglow. "'Look +out for the grace of God!' says Elder Hadley to me. 'Wherever you look +for it, you'll find it!' he says. 'If you don't,' he says, 'it's your +own fault, for it's sure there somewhere!' he says. Well, I tried, +honest I did, to find grace in Old Man Blossom, and all I could find was +he wanted his little gal. So--well! What I would say, God moves in a +myster'ous way, His wonders to _per_form; (sung to 'Albayno,' common +metre, fine hymn, though a mite sober!) and how do I know but wantin' +his little gal was the way was took by--by Them as has the handlin' of +things--" a reverent jerk of the head toward the sky--"and--well--that's +the way it struck me!" Pippin concluded lamely. + +The tears stood in Mrs. Appleby's kind eyes, and even Mrs. Faulkner's +severity was perceptibly abated. + +"We only want to be sure--" faltered the former. + +"We _must_ be sure!" said the latter. + +"Yes--of course we must. Pippin, I believe all you say--" she glanced a +trifle defiantly at her assistant--"because I cannot help it. I am sure +you have told us the truth; but we cannot take action--we cannot tell +you where Mary Fl--where the young woman is, until we have _proof_ of +your respectability and the steadiness of your purpose. You will +understand that, I am sure. Well--now! Bring us a note from Mr. Hadley, +and we will tell you where she is, and will recommend her employ--that +is, the people with whom she is staying--to allow her to visit her +father. This is all we can do!" + +She rose as she spoke, and held out her hand; Pippin grasped it +heartily. + +"You're a perfect lady, ma'am!" he said. "I see that the minute I laid +eyes on you. I'll get that note if it takes a leg! 'Twon't take above a +week to get to Shoreham--say a day there, and another week +back--walkin', you understand--say two weeks, and I'll be back if I'm +alive. I'm a thousand times obliged to you, lady--and you too, ma'am!" +His smile loosened the strictures about Mrs. Faulkner's heart--a good +heart, but over-institutionalized by years of routine--and sent a warm +glow through her. + +"I'll wish you good day--say!" he stopped suddenly. "About that pup--I +would say kid: him with the freckles and the bull-dog grip. I like that +kid. He's got sand, a whole bag of it. If you was lookin' for a home for +him when he leaves this joint--but I guess we better leave that till I +bring that note, what say? Good day, ladies! Come up, Nipper!" And with +a comprehensive wave and smile that took in every eager face glued to +the playroom window, Pippin went his way. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +PIPPIN MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE + + +Pippin went his way, planning his expedition as he went. He would start +that evening, in the cool. Pay up at his joint, and he might leave +Nipper there, mebbe. Decent folks, and he could travel quicker--No! he +would take Nipper along, and give 'em a good sharpenin' up all round +over there. The Warden's boys--they'd be glad to see him, he expected. A +boy's knife always needed 'tendin' to; and the Warden! He was real good, +he might have some tools, and he could go into the shop--green grass! he +really believed he'd be glad to see the old place again! Now wouldn't +that give you a pain? + +Was that because he warn't obleeged to go, think, or because he found +the Lord there, and there was a manner of blessin' on the place for +him?--"Easy there!" + +The last remark was not addressed to himself. He was crossing the street +with perhaps a dozen other persons, between two halted phalanxes of +motor cars, drays, wagons; midway a monumental policeman held a fraction +of the world in the hollow of his hand. Just in front of Pippin was a +stout gentleman, puffing nervously, his gold-framed gaze fixed intently +on the sidewalk haven before him. Suddenly a boy--he was no +more--stumbled over Pippin's feet, lurched forward, and fell heavily +against the stout gentleman with a cry of alarm. The gentleman turned +quickly. As he did so, Pippin's left arm shot out; he caught the boy +and held him, struggling and kicking. + +"Nix on the swipe, my darlin'," he said quietly. + +"Lemme go!" spluttered the boy. "---- you, lemme go!" + +"Is he hurt?" asked the stout gentleman. "Is the poor lad hurt?" + +"Not yet he ain't," said Pippin grimly, "but he's liable to be." + +"Step lively!" thundered the policeman, his eye on the pawing motor +cars. + +Pippin nodded toward the further sidewalk, and made his way thither, +dragging his prisoner by the collar. The stout gentleman followed, +bewildered. + +"I don't understand--" he began. + +"You wouldn't," said Pippin gently. "His hand was in your pocket, that's +all, sir. Easy, bo! Nix on the fade-away, neither; I've got your shirt, +too, see? Why not take it easy?" + +The boy, who had been trying to wriggle out of his jacket, gave it up +and stood sullen and silent, with clenched hands. The stout gentleman +looked distressed. "You mean--" he said "--you fear the lad is a +pickpocket?" + +"That's what! Open your fins, Jimmy! drop the swagglekins! What? Need a +little help, do you?" + +Pippin was standing discreetly in the gutter that he might not obstruct +traffic. Now with his free hand he drew out his file and gave a smart +rap on the boy's knuckles. The boy uttered a yelp of pain, the hand +opened involuntarily. Pippin deftly caught its contents as they dropped, +and handed them to the gentleman with a little bow. + +"Pocketbook an' wipe--I would say handkerchief! O.K., Governor?" + +"God bless me! Yes, they are mine! Thank you!" cried the stout +gentleman. "Is it possible? This young lad! I am distressed. Young man, +I am deeply indebted to you. Shall you--a--deliver him over to the +authorities?" + +"Run him in?" Pippin eyed the boy thoughtfully. "I ain't quite sure yet. +Me an' Jimmy'll have a little talk first, I expect. Mebbe--" + +A bell clanged. There was a rush and a swirl in the crowd. As the +fire-engine came thundering by, the boy suddenly dropped and hung limp +and nerveless in Pippin's grasp; then, as the grasp shifted a little to +gain a better hold, he gave a violent jerk, a shove, a spring, and was +off, under the very wheels of the advancing hose-carriage. + +Pippin looked after him regretfully. + +"Slick kid!" he said. "He's ben well trained, that kid has. I couldn't +have done that better myself. But there wasn't no chance to look for no +grace in that one," he added. "Now I leave it to any one! But--what was +I tellin' you? That's the second one to-day. You leave me get hold of +them boys, this one and that pup to the Home joint, and I could do +somepin with 'em. I could so!" + + * * * * * + +The trip to Shoreham, so carefully planned, was not to come off; the +ladies of distaff and shears had ordained otherwise. It occurred to +Pippin that in common politeness he could not leave town for a fortnight +without "sharpenin' up" that young lady, bein' he had said he would call +again. That afternoon, accordingly, he and Nipper took their way to the +green lane in the pleasant suburb, and turned in at the white gate. +There was no clothes-hanging nymph in the yard this time--it was Monday +afternoon, and the clothes were lying in neat snowy rolls in a basket +within, ready for the morrow's ironing--so Pippin knocked at the door, +and Mary-in-the-kitchen opened it. A rather stern looking Mary, until +she saw who it was; then she dimpled and smiled in a delightful way, and +wanted to know if that was he. + +"I was sort of looking for you to-day!" she added. + +"You was!" Pippin glowed responsive. "Now that sounds good to me. +Something in my line to-day?" + +"There was a woman come to clean Saturday, and what must she do but take +my best potato knife to pry off the top of a jar! 'Twas a screw-top, +too, so she had her trouble for her pains, and broke the knife +besides--Just the tip; I thought perhaps you could grind it off?" + +"Well, I guess! just watch me! If there's one job I like better than +another, it's grind a new tip." + +Mary brought the knife, which he pronounced a dandy from Dandyville. He +didn't suppose she would care to see him do it? Some thought 'twas +pretty to watch. Mary, with a glance at the clock, thought she had time. +Soon, bright head and dark were bending over Nipper, the wheel was +flying, the rough edge of blue steel was fining, thinning, brightening, +shaping--yes, it certainly was pretty to watch. Pippin had a strong +notion that something else would have been pretty to watch, too, could +he have looked two ways at once; it was rather wonderful to feel a soft +breath on your cheek, to be conscious that within six or eight inches of +your own brown head was that bright efflorescence of light and color and +softness, but Pippin did not say this. + +When the knife was done, he looked up, and met his reward in a soft glow +of admiration and wonder that almost took his breath. + +"You surely are a master hand!" cried Mary. "Why, it's better than when +it came from the shop." + +"I'm real pleased if it's satisfactory!" said Pippin modestly. "'Twould +be better still if I had a bit of shammy skin; I did have a piece, but I +can't seem to--" + +"Why, step right in! I've got shammy skin and to spare. Step in and set +down, do! I'd be pleased to have you!" + +But not so pleased as Pippin was to step! He wiped his shoes as +elaborately as if he had not indulged in "the best shine in town, five +cents!" before coming; he brushed imaginary dust off his neat brown +clothes; finally he made his little bow of a young birch in the wind, +and followed Mary into the kitchen. + +Very different, Pippin, from the kitchen at Cyrus Poor Farm: for space, +compactness; for mellow warmth of brick and timbers, brilliant white of +paint and tile and enamel, set off by the blurred or shining silver of +aluminum or nickel; for Mrs. Bailey, kindly and wrinkled, in her purple +print, this vision of blue and white and gold. + +"Green grass!" said Pippin. "This is some, ain't it?" + +He was to sit right down at this little table, Mary said. There! Here +was the "shammy," and if he would excuse her, she would make up her +rolls. That way they'd both be busy, wouldn't they? And no time wasted! +Mary's laugh seemed to tinkle all round the room, striking little +bell-like notes here and there, just as her smile--or so it seemed to +Pippin--woke new lights on the shining kettles and saucepans. Then, +standing at the large table next to his small one, she lifted the cover +from a yellow bowl full of creamy, bubbling dough, and went to work. + +Have you ever watched a pretty girl making rolls? There are few more +attractive sights. First she tumbles the soft mass out on the board; +then she kneads it, with much play of dimpled elbow and slender wrist. +The bubbles heave and swell, but she catches them, breaks them down, +works them in, till the whole is like smooth creamy velvet, delightful +to see, more delightful to handle. Now she cuts off a piece, cups it in +her hands, pats, moulds, shapes, tucks in a bit of butter; behold the +perfect roll! Into the pan it goes, with its fellows, and so into the +oven, to emerge in due time with the perfection of a "pale bake," +tenderest fawn color deepening at the top, say to the hue of a winter +beech leaf. + +Pippin certainly was a long time over that knife tip. He rubbed it hard +for a minute or two, till it shone like Mary's own particular coffeepot; +then he paused, lost in contemplation of Mary's wrists and elbows, her +clear-cut profile, and waving hair. Whenever she turned toward him, he +rubbed the knife tip vigorously, only to relapse again when she turned +away. So absorbed was he, he did not notice how rapidly the mass of +dough was diminishing; and when Mary, having plumped the last roll into +place, turned suddenly full upon him with a "There! _That's_ done!" he +started with a guilty flush, and almost cut himself with the knife, now +more like a razor than a kitchen implement. Mary, meeting the full gaze +of his dark bright eyes, flushed, too, and then laughed a little. "I +think my work's pretty, too!" she said. "I guess you like to watch it +same as I do yours." + +"I sure do! And if you'll excuse me sayin' so, I never see rolls handled +so elegant in my life. I'm part baker myself," he added apologetically, +"and I've seen a many rolls handled." Mary kindled with interest. She +wanted to know if he was a baker. Then why-- + +"Why ain't I bakin'?" Pippin laughed. "I'll have to tell you about that +some day--lemme put 'em in for you! Dandy oven you've got; dandy outfit +all round! That's if I might take the liberty of callin' again, Miss--" + +"Mary Flower is my name!" said the girl. "I should be pleased to know +yours!" + +"Pippin is what they call me!" Pippin, for the first time in his life, +felt the need of two names. Now why? + +"Mr. Pippin, I should be pleased to have you call again." She spoke a +little formally; these were proper conventions, since there was no third +party by to introduce them. + +"Well, now, Miss Flower, I shall be glad to come, and more than glad, +sure thing, the very day I come back. What I came special to-day was to +say--" + +But Pippin never said it. At that moment the screen door swung open, and +a man entered. A man about Pippin's age, in linen duster and straw hat, +carrying a basket of vegetables. A grocer's assistant, evidently; his +wagon stood at the gate. The first thing that struck Pippin was the +eager glance the man threw about the room, and the sharp flash of--was +it suspicion or jealousy?--as his eyes fell upon him, Pippin. This was +the first impression; the second was that Mary did not like him; the +third that the man's nose was crooked. Having received these three +impressions, Pippin bent over his potato knife, and polished it +assiduously. Where _had_ he seen that nose? Where _had_ he seen that +nose? It couldn't be--was it?--green grass! now wouldn't that-- + +He glanced warily up, and seeing the man's attention engrossed by Mary, +took a good look at him. A thin, sharp face, eyes too near together, a +straight slit of a mouth; but the nose was what interested Pippin. It +was certainly _very_ crooked! A long sharp nose; that must have been a +powerful blow which had turned it from the straight course. Pippin's +right fist clenched involuntarily, with a reminiscent thrill; the +corners of his mouth twitched, and his eyes twinkled. + +"Green grass!" he murmured again. + +"No, I guess we shan't want anything to-morrow!" said Mary, in cool, +flute-like tones. "No, you needn't call, thank you. We'll telephone when +we need anything." + +"Got company, I see!" the man directed an ugly scowl at Pippin. Pippin +looked up cheerfully. + +"Hello, Nosey!" he said. "That you? Quite a stranger, ain't you?" Again +the man's eyes flashed, and this time there was recognition in them; the +next moment his face was a wooden mask. + +"Guess you've got me!" he said. "Stranger to me, far as I know. That +your wheel out there?" He spoke with a curious mixture of eagerness and +sullenness. + +"Sure thing! Forgot me, have you, Nosey? Say 'Pippin,' and see if you +don't fetch it?" + +"We don't carry apples at this season," stolidly. "Berries is what we +carry now, and early peaches." + +"That so? Well, you're a peach, all right, all right. Well, Miss Flower, +I expect I--" He was about to rise and make his adieux, when a look from +Mary tingled through him to his toes; it said, "Stay!" He settled back +in his seat. "I expect I'm ready for those other things you spoke of," +he said slowly. "Scissors, was they, or knives?" + +"Scissors!" said Mary. "I'll get them!" + +She vanished. As the door closed behind her, the man made a step toward +Pippin, and spoke low and savagely. + +"You quit, do you hear? Quit and stay quit! If I catch you here again, +I'll--" he indicated measures which would seriously incommode Pippin's +internal economy. + +"That so?" said Pippin in an easy drawl. He tilted his chair back on two +legs, and smiled amiably at his interlocutor. "Why, Nosey, I'm sorry you +feel that way. I never meant to spile it permanent, but it does seem to +have got a kind of a twist, don't it? I wouldn't bear malice, though, if +I was you!" + +"---- ---- you!" hissed the man. "I'll have your--" + +The door opened; he dropped back against the table, and his face became +once more a wooden mask. + +Mary, her hands full of scissors, looked from one to the other; her +breath came a little quickly, as if she had hurried. "You two gentlemen +know each other?" she asked doubtfully. + +"Why," said Pippin slowly, "I thought he was a boy I used to know, but +he seems to think different. What is your handsome name, Mister, since +Nosey Bashford won't do you?" + +"My name's Brown!" said the man hoarsely. + +"Well, they both begin with B," said Pippin. "I don't know as it matters +any." + +"Was there anything else you wanted to say, Mr. Brown?" asked Mary +civilly. + +At this palpable hint, the man could but take up his basket and start +for the door. He gave Pippin one venomous look; Pippin replied with a +slight but friendly nod. + +"So long, bo!" he said cheerfully. + +At the door the man paused, as if struck by a sudden thought. He had +some extra fine tomato plants in the cart, he said. They was an order +for Goodwins, next door, but the boss thought likely Mr. Aymer (Mary's +employer) would like some. Wouldn't Mary step out and look at them? +'Twouldn't take but a minute, if she wasn't afraid to leave--a +significant glance toward Pippin finished the sentence and decided +Mary's answer. She had meant to say, "No!" with some asperity. As it +was, she said, "Yes!" and followed him out to the gate, leaving Pippin +alone. + +Now, the latter asked himself, wouldn't that give you a pain? Honest, +now, wouldn't it? What did he suppose that skeezicks was sayin' to her. +If he came the give-away, he, Pippin, expected he could give him as +good. Even if Dod was dead, and it wasn't likely he was-- + +If Pippin had been a cultivated person, he would have said, + + "The gods are just, and of our pleasant vices + Make instruments to plague us!" + +Being a plain person, he said, no two ways about it, that was what come +of startin' mean. Yes; but, he reminded himself, the start was not of +his own making. Let him be straight and keep straight, and things would +come round 'cordin' to! + +"That's right!" said Pippin aloud. "I'm only makin' a beginnin', so to +say. _My_ start is right now, see? Let Dod and Nosey get what they can +out of theirs. Last week's dough-scrapin's needn't trouble me!" + +Mary came back with her head high, a flush on her cheek and a sparkle in +her eye. + +"Gorry to 'Liza!" said Pippin, but not aloud. "She looks some-er when +she's mad than when she's pleased!" + +"Known Nosey long?" asked Pippin, rising as she entered. + +"No, nor want to! He's not my style, nor I his. Did you really know him, +Mr. Pippin?" + +"Did I? Do I know a skunk by the sm--Yes, I knew him when we was boys. +'Twas I give him his crooked nose. I'll tell you about it some day, if +you'll let me. I must be goin' now." + +Was it quite by accident, I wonder, that Mrs. Aymer came into the +kitchen to get a cup of hot water? She greeted Pippin pleasantly, +admired the rehabilitated potato knife, thought his must be a pleasant +trade in summer weather. She thought it very possible that Mr. Aymer +might like his pocketknife sharpened. Could Pippin wait a moment? + +"That's what I'm here for!" Pippin smilingly assured her. Mr. Aymer +being summoned, shortly appeared: tall, thin, kindly-faced, looking more +like a college professor than a hardware dealer. He, too, after looking +Pippin well over, praised his skill and discussed various aspects of +cutlery with him. They agreed heartily on the fundamental fact that when +you wanted a knife, you wanted it good. Followed commendation of certain +makes, disparagement of others. Bugler's goods, Pippin opined, wasn't +worth the price of the handles; he'd make as good a knife out of lead +pipe. Now take Porter's, and _there_ you had a knife. Both men began to +glow with responsive ardor, and it required a discreet cough and glance +from Mrs. Aymer to convey to both the fact that supper time was drawing +near and that Mary had her work to do. Pippin withdrew with many +apologies, but not before both householders had cordially asked him to +call again. Mary, in her corner, remained demurely mute, but to be sure +she had already invited him; and her farewell glance and smile sent him +away trailing clouds of glory. + +Later, on the comfortable little screened porch, the householders told +their guest about the handsome lad who was so clever with tools, and who +had evidently "taken such a shine" to their pretty Mary. + +"I called John out on purpose!" said the lady. "Of course we feel +responsible about Mary; and you liked him, didn't you, John?" + +"I certainly did: mighty decent looking fellow. Intelligent, too! Knows +good steel when he sees it." + +"You ought to have seen him, Lawrence! You are so interested in young +men. If he comes again, you must be sure to want your knife +sharpened--if this old Conference is going to give you _any_ time for +us!" she added with a smiling pout. "Of course if there should be +anything serious between him and Mary, we should want to be _very_ +careful!" + +"Aren't you a little ahead of the game, Lucy?" her husband laughed. "The +boy has been here once, I understand--twice? Oh, well! I don't know that +Lawrence can count on the wedding fee, even so. But you would like him, +Larry, that's a fact. I took to him at once, and you know Lucy thinks me +hard to please, especially about young fellows." + +"I wish I had seen him!" said the guest heartily. "I've seen nothing but +gray heads all day long, and a boy would be refreshing." + +But if he had seen Pippin, the course of my story would have been +different. + +Meanwhile, as they talked, Mary-in-the-kitchen sat on her back steps in +the moonlight, and thought her own thoughts. Happy thoughts! Mary was +always happy. If some of them were of dark eyes and a kindling smile, +of quaintly chosen words--He had as sweet a voice, Mary must say, as +ever she heard; she wished Mrs. Aymer had heard him sing; when he came +again--oh, yes, he would come. The queer thing was, he didn't seem a bit +of a stranger. Appeared like she had known him always. + +What would you say, Mary, if you knew that the dark eyes were watching +you now, in the shadow of that big elm across the road? You would be +surprised, but possibly not displeased, Mary? Ah! But what if another +pair of eyes were watching, too, sharply, eagerly, greedily; little red +eyes, set too near together across a crooked nose? What then, +Mary-in-the-kitchen? + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +PIPPIN ENCOUNTERS THE GIDEONS + + +Pippin spent the evening sitting on the edge of his bed, whistling on +his file, as was his custom when perturbed in spirit, and taking counsel +with himself. He had had a shock. Two hours ago, after leaving the white +house, he felt the need of a pipe; a smoke of tribute, call it, to +whatever gods might be interested in youth and beauty, in dimples and +waving hair. Nearly opposite the house, across the lane, was a huge elm +whose branches drooped low over the roadside. Its roots formed a +comfortable seat neatly cushioned with moss. Pippin had already observed +this natural retreat; now he sought it, and lighting his pipe, was at +peace with the world. + +Silently he communed with himself about the "young lady." He did not +venture to think of her by any other title, though it must be confessed +that he said "Mary" to himself now and then, just to be sure that it +sounded like the prettiest name in the world, though of course he always +knew it was. And he always knew--now, how did he know it was her +name?--that she could have no other. If Pippin had put his thoughts into +words--but he could not! His heart beat quick and hard in his ears, and +there was something the matter with his breathing; and anyway, who was +he to set up thinking of her at all? But if he had found words, they +might have shaped themselves thus. + +Honest, now! Had he ever, in all his life, seen a young lady that was a +patch on her? Believe him, nix! It wasn't only her looks, though they +was out of sight, clear; it was the way she moved, and spoke--notice how +the corners of her mouth curled up round the words as if she loved +'em--And the sound of her voice, and the goodness that shined right out +of her--my! my! _that_ lamp is burnin' all right, all right! He paused, +for beside the bright face that shone so clear before him, he seemed to +see another, a face no less fair, more perfect indeed in line and tint +and carving, but, as he had once said, like a lamp unlighted. "Poor +Flora May!" he murmured. "Poor gal! Now wouldn't that young lady be a +sister to her if she had the chance? You bet she would!" + +Thus musing, he chanced to look up, and was aware of a man coming slowly +along the road; very slowly, with a singular gait, half limp, half +lurch. He was dressed like a day laborer, and carried a dinner pail; a +pickaxe was slung over his shoulder. It was the gait that caught +Pippin's eye; he stopped building air-castles, and looked narrowly at +the advancing figure. + +The man shambled slowly along, and paused near the gate of the white +house. Drawing out a clay pipe, he proceeded to light it; a clumsy +business he made of it, fumbling long for his matches, then making +several vain attempts to strike a light, his eyes meantime roaming over +house and grounds with sharp, searching glances. Pippin, always so ready +to help, might easily have given him a light--but a moment before Pippin +had extinguished his own pipe with a swift, silent motion. He sat +perfectly still under his tree, not to be distinguished from it in the +dusk, under the drooping branches, his eyes riveted to the slouching +figure. So absorbed was he that he saw nothing of the quiet approach of +another figure, until it stood close beside the first; a lighter, +slimmer figure, that of a young man. Pippin could see no more till the +newcomer, turning his profile to the rising moon, displayed a crooked +nose. + +If the two exchanged words, it was in a whisper so low that Pippin could +not catch it. The younger man also pulled out a pipe, and seemed to ask +for a light; there was more fumbling and scratching, then the elder +nodded slightly and went limping and lurching along the road. + +Why did the younger man linger? Why did he, too, slip under a drooping +tree--not fifty feet away from Pippin's own, I declare--and stand there, +silent and hidden as Pippin himself? + +Why, Pippin, a man may have feelings, even if his nose is crooked. If a +pretty girl comes out to sit on her steps and look at the rising moon +and think sweet, girl-moonlight thoughts, why--be reasonable, Pippin! +Why should not Nosey Bashford like to watch her as well as you? Nosey's +nose is shockingly crooked, and his eyes are crooked, too, little and +red and too near together; he is crooked inside and out, but he has his +feelings, and it is well for you, Pippin, seeing that you are entirely +unarmed, whereas Nosey is never without a sandbag or a brass knuckle or +some such pretty trifle, that he does not know of your being only fifty +feet away from him. + +"That's right!" said Pippin, sitting on his bed, as above mentioned, +whistling on his file; "that may be all so, and likely 'tis: but that +don't explain Dod happenin' along just that minute, nor yet them two +with their heads together. Dod has aged some--well, he would! Must be +sixty year old, or nigh it--but he don't look no handsomer nor no--well, +say piouser--than he did. What I say is, I believe them two has a game +on. I hate to keep the Old Man waitin', but I rather guess I'll have to +hang round here a spell, and see what they're up to. What say?" + +When in need of sympathy, Pippin was apt to call up his dream family and +demand it of them, never failing of a response. He did so now, and Ma, +blue-eyed and pink-cheeked, and Pa, brown and stalwart, appeared +promptly. Pippin, absurd fellow that he was, saw them sitting beside +him, and appealed to Pa to confirm his last remark. Pa said he was +right, things did appear to squint that way a mite. He expected Pippin +had better keep his eye on them two. + +"But I stuck him out!" Pippin slapped his thigh joyously. "I stuck him +out, folks! And I would have if he'd have set there all night. Another +thing!" His voice was grave again. "Notice what happened just before he +left? Why, the Boss--Mr. Aymer, that is--come home. Didn't you hear some +one step kind of quick along the sidewalk front of the house, whistlin' +a little, but not so as to disturb folks, and then the latchkey rattle a +mite as he put in? I tell you, 'twasn't all feelin's in Nosey's. He +wanted to know what time the Boss was liable to come home, and he found +out. Oh, they're smart, Bashfords; you got to keep your eye peeled when +you watch them!" + +Pippin stopped suddenly. Some one seemed to be talking; Ma this time, +her blue eyes bright and serious. Had he looked for grace in them two? + +"Green grass!" Pippin laughed aloud. "Grace, in Bashford's gang! If +there's as much grace in e'er a one of 'em as would raise a biscuit, one +solitary, little weeny biscuit, I'll--I'll--" + +He stopped again, for again the voice seemed to speak. + +"I didn't know as the Elder made any exception. Fellow creatures, he +said--" + +Pippin dropped his head. If he had been differently brought up, he might +have beaten his breast and cried, "_Mea culpa!_" As it was, he said, +"Green grass!" again, several times. The last exclamation was in a +different tone. He raised his head, and his eyes shone. + +"I'll try!" he said. "Honest, I will! Now behooves me get a mite o' +sleep. But first--" + +The room was a small and plain one, in a meek by-street which had to +work hard to prove that it was not a slum, but did prove it. There were +curtains in most of the windows, faded, patched, darned, but whole and +clean (Mrs. Morrissey's were Nottingham lace, the street would have you +know, but then Mr. Morrissey was on the Force), and not a house but had +a geranium or a straggle of nasturtiums in window-box or tin can or +broken pitcher. + +Besides all this, not a lodging room in the street but had a Bible; the +Gideons had seen to that. Pippin took the fat black book from the little +light-stand beside the bed. He had his own little Testament that Elder +Hadley had given him, but this was handy by, and besides, he admired to +read about them Old Testament guys. Elijah was "some," he thought; as +for Elisha, he had no opinion of him. Gettin' them kids all stove up +just because they was a mite cheeky! Likely he _was_ bald-headed! + +The volume opening at the title page revealed a printed slip pasted +inside the cover, on which Pippin read as follows: + + This Holy Book, whose leaves display + the Life, the Light, the Truth, the Way, + is placed in this room by + The Gideons, + The Christian Commercial Travelers' Association of America, + Aided by + The Christian Forces of this City + with the hope also that by means of this Book + many may be brought to know the love of + Christ which passeth knowledge. + + The Ancient Gideon's Test and Triumph--Judges 6 and 7. + The Modern Gideon's Motto--Judges 7:21. + The Greatest Sermon ever preached--Matthew 5, 6, and 7. + BLESSED TRUTH--ACCEPT IT--Luke 19:10; John 3:16. + The Supreme Sacrifice for all--Isaiah 53. + The Universal Invitation to all--Isaiah 55. + If lonesome or blue and friends untrue, read Psalms 23 and + 27, Luke 15. + If trade is poor, read Psalm 37, John 15. + If discouraged or in trouble, read Psalm 126; John 14. + If you are all out of sorts, read Hebrews 12. + If you are losing confidence in men, read I Cor. 13. + If skeptical, read John 6:40, 7:17; Phil. 2:9-11. + If you can't have your own way, read James 3. + If tired of sin, read Luke 18:9-14, 35-43, John 9. + If very prosperous, read I Cor. 10:12, 15. + The WONDERFUL RESULT--Isaiah 35--Psalm 121--Romans 12. + + We earnestly solicit free-will offerings for the aid of our + Bible work. + Christian Traveling Men, Join Us, Help Us. + For particulars, inquire of any man wearing the button, or + THE GIDEONS, + 22 West Quincy Street, Chicago, Ill. + +"Green grass!" said Pippin. "Now wouldn't that--" He read it again, +slowly and carefully. "Now wouldn't that--well, the reverse of give you +a pain! Lemme see! What fits me special in this outfit?" His finger +following the table of contents, Pippin knit his brows and set his +teeth, murmuring as he went, "'If trade is poor,'--that ain't me! I made +three dollars to-day, and two yesterday. Fifteen a week wouldn't be far +from it, and five of that in the bank reg'lar every week. I tell you! + +"'If discouraged or in trouble;' nope! + +"'If you are all out of sorts;' not a mite! + +"'If you are losing confidence in man'--There! Isn't that a leadin'? Bet +your life!" said Pippin. He turned to the appointed passage and read: + +"'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not +charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal. + +"'And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, +and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove +mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing. + +"'And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give +my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.' + +"I expect that is so," said Pippin gravely. "I certainly expect that +that is so, and I will act as near that as is give me, 'cordin' to. Say +I learn it off, so I'll have it handy by and not forget it, what say? +'Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not +charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling--'" + +At this point there was a rap on the wall, and an angry voice asked +whether there was a prayer meeting going on, or what? Couldn't a man get +a wink of sleep without condemned galoots hollering their prayers +through a megaphone? + +"I'm real sorry, brother!" said Pippin pacifically. "I didn't know I'd +riz my voice." + +"Riz your voice! You go hire yourself out as foghorn to a Sound boat, +and you'll make your fortune!" + +"You've got a powerful organ of your own," replied Pippin. "If you'd +like to have a prayer meetin', I'd be pleased to have you join in. Are +you a Gideon?" + +"Are you a goat that wants its hide took off?" roared the other. "If you +don't shut your head--" + +"I've shut and padlocked it! I'm just whisperin' through a knothole. Go +to by-by, bo! Pleasant dreams!" + + * * * * * + +Pippin's chance came the very next day. As he was carrying Nipper past +the white house--he was not going in, but somehow his way seemed to lie +mostly through the lane--the grocery wagon stood at the gate, and even +as he looked, the door opened and shut, rather hastily, and the +crooked-nosed man--his given name was William, by the way--came out with +his empty basket. He greeted Pippin with a scowl that blackened his +never too attractive face. Pippin gave him a friendly nod. + +"Mornin', Nosey!" he said. + +Nosey's only reply was a snarl that might have meant anything--except +friendliness. + +"Say, Nosey, quit the grouch, what? I'm sorry I sp'iled your beak, bo. +There! I'd mend it if I knew how, honest I would!" + +Nosey's reply was intelligible this time, but unprintable. It was to the +general effect that if Pippin didn't light out pretty condemned quick, +he would "get his," whatever that might mean. + +"That so?" said Pippin. "All right, bo! I just wanted to say that I +hadn't no grouch against you. I'm on the straight now, Bill, see? Mebbe +you are, too?" + +"Yes, you are!" with an ugly sneer. "You and your wheel! You look out, +that's all I say to you! Gidap!" The last remark was addressed to the +horse, and was accompanied by a savage blow of the whip; the startled +animal sprang forward and the wagon rattled out of sight. + +"Well, I tried!" said Pippin. "Honest, I did!" + + * * * * * + +A day or two after, Mrs. Appleby received a letter that puzzled her +somewhat. It was signed, "Yours in the Lord, Pippin," and was to the +effect that she was please not to be sore because the writer had to hold +up that job a mite. He would pull it off quick as he could, but they was +some guys trying to make a deal out of some folks he knew that was dandy +folks, he could tell her, and he felt a call to hang round a spell so as +he would be ready in case an extra hand was needed, for them guys was +mean as they grow, and if that young lady or her boss come to any harm, +he'd never get over it, sure thing. But quick as he got this off his +chest, he'd make tracks for Shoreham and get that letter, if it took a +leg. + +Mrs. Appleby smiled over this effusion, which was carefully written on +heavily ruled paper. The handwriting was stiff and official--had not +Pippin learned to write in the office of the Warden, under the eye of +that kindly potentate?--the spelling occasionally quaint, but she seemed +well pleased as she laid it away methodically. + +"I am sure that boy is genuine!" she said with a little nod. "I would +trust him--what is it, Jane?" + +A pupil-teacher was standing before her, red-cheeked, round-eyed, and +out of breath. + +"Jimmy 'as run away again, Mam!" + +"Jimmy! dear! dear! Played hookey from school, you mean?" + +"Yes, Mam! I 'ad 'im be the 'and"--Jane was but one remove from +London--"and we was steppin' along quite-like, wen 'e 'eard a horgan, +and 'e was horf!" + +"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Appleby again. "That is the third time; I will +notify the police at once." Stepping to the telephone, she gave notice +of the truant, "Ten years old, small and wiry, red hair and freckles; +khaki pants, gray flannel shirt; will probably answer to any name except +his own, which is James Mather. Do have him found, Mr. Inspector! He +isn't a bad boy, and he is sure to have the nightmare to-night." + +Turning back, she spoke to Mrs. Faulkner who was just entering the room. + +"Jimmy Mather has run away _again_, Mrs. Faulkner! I really don't know +what to do with the boy." + +"I should send him to the Farm School!" said Mrs. Faulkner promptly. "He +is a very bad influence here. Last evening, when the cook was going to +church, he pinned a dishcloth to her cloak, and she never found it out +till she got back. She has given notice. I was just coming to tell you. +I think she will stay if the boy is sent away." + +"Little Jim!" cried Mrs. Appleby. "Oh, Mrs. Faulkner! He is too young +for the Farm School, even if--" + +"Mary is a very valuable woman!" said Mrs. Faulkner severely. "It is +matter of knowledge to me that she has been offered fifteen dollars a +week, and we get her for ten because of her little niece being here. +James Mather is worth nothing at all that I can see, and is a nuisance +besides." + +"Oh, Mrs. Faulkner!" said Mrs. Appleby again. + +As she stood perplexed, what was this vision that flashed suddenly +before her eyes? Two brown, bright eyes in a face that seemed to smile +all over, brow to chin; a musical voice saying, + +"There's a kid I like! I could do something with that kid if I had him!" + +"Dear! dear!" said Mrs. Appleby aloud. "I do wish he would!" and +happening to glance out of the window, she saw Pippin entering the +courtyard with Jimmy Mather beside him. Yes, things happen that way +sometimes. Mrs. Appleby did not try to analyze her feeling of relief +when Mrs. Faulkner was called out of the room just as Pippin entered it. + +"Run straight into me!" said Pippin, when the culprit had been welcomed, +rebuked, provisionally pardoned and sent to bed. "Follerin' a Dago with +an organ and a monkey. Gee! Run just the way I used to run after a +monkey. I knew the pup in a minute, and I had him by his slack and +scruff before he knew what had got him. Green grass! he was surprised, +that kid was! Then he bawled, and wanted to go with me, but nix on that, +so I said I'd fetch him home, and he come along like pie. But say, lady, +you rec'lect what I told you that day?" + +"I was just thinking of it when you came in! Your coming seemed +providential." + +"Can you show me anything that ain't, in a manner of speakin'? Well, I +say it again. This is a dandy place for some kids, but it's no place for +that one. You want to let me take him--" + +"Where? Where would you take him, Pippin?" + +"To Cyrus Poor Farm!" + +"A poorhouse?" The matron's face fell. + +"It's that, but it's more than that, and it's goin' to be more than what +it is now. Leave me have that boy and a dozen more like him, and gee! I +tell you we'll make things hum there to Cyrus! That's the kind I want; +smart little kids, the kind that makes the smartest crook. Catch 'em +little, and make 'em grow straight instead of crooked--what do you know +about that? Wouldn't that be mince pie atop of roast turkey and +cranberry sauce? I tell you!" + +Thus Pippin, glowing with ardor, sure that everyone must see his project +as he saw it; but now the gay fire died out of his face. "I forgot!" he +said. "I can't take him just yet, lady. I--you got a letter from me? +Did? Well, there's where it is, you see! I ain't free to go just yet. +This job to Mr. Aymer's--" + +"Mr. _Who_?" Mrs. Appleby started. + +"Mr. Aymer: John E. Lives corner of Smith and Brown Street. Maybe you +might know him, Mis' Appleby? They sure are dandy folks!" + +"I know Mr. Aymer," drily. "How came you to know him, Pippin?" + +"There's a young lady works for him!" Pippin was blushing hotly, but he +met the inquiring look bravely. "Miss Flower, her name is. I happened +along by--in the way of business, you understand--and she had a carver +needed sharpenin', and so we made acquaintance. She's--well, there! +Mebbe you might know her, too? Do?" as Mrs. Appleby nodded. "Now isn't +that great! Well, honest now, isn't she--did you ever see a dandier +young lady than that?" + +"She is a nice girl!" Mrs. Appleby's mouth was under strict control, but +her eyes twinkled. "Have you been at the house more than once? You say +you have met Mr. Aymer--and Mrs. Aymer?" + +"I have, ma'am! They were more than kind to me, I must say. Yes, I've +been there four or five times. I--I didn't do all the knives the first +day I was there, nor yet the second. Their knives was in poor shape--" +He paused and looked helplessly into the kind, shrewd gray eyes. "I--I +don't know as I was in any too great hurry about them knives!" he +faltered. "I--fact is, I give consid'able time to 'em; took a couple one +day and another couple another. Pleasant place, and nice folks, you +understand--and--I told you about them two mean guys--" + +Mrs. Appleby said she did understand. And what did Pippin propose to do +next? she asked. Why, that was just what he was studyin' over; he was +just puttin' that up to himself when he ran across the kiddo just now. +Whether to wait round a bit and watch till he was a mite surer than what +he was--and yet he _was_ sure, knowin' them two and their ways--or up +and tell the Boss thus and so, and let him do as he der--as he thought +fit. + +"I've got a hunch," said Pippin, "that I'd better tell him right away. +What say?" + +"I say you are right!" Mrs. Appleby spoke with decision. + +"I'll do it! I'll do it before I sleep to-night. Maybe he'll think of +some way to hasten matters up a mite. If they're goin' to do him up, I +wish't they'd get at it, so's we can round 'em up and me get off on my +business. Not but it _is_ my business to stop such doin's every time I +see a chance. I wish you good mornin' lady, and I'm a thousand times +obliged to you." + +He departed, and Mrs. Appleby sat down and wrote a note to Miss Mary +Flower, care of John E. Aymer, Esq., Cor. Smith and Brown Streets, +City. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THREE TETE-A-TETES + + +"It's a rum start!" said Mr. John Aymer. + +"It certainly is queer!" said Mrs. John Aymer. "I don't like it one bit, +John. I do wish Lawrence was back." + +"Sent for him over there, did they? One of his pet lambs in trouble? +Well, he'll be back on the night train, for to-morrow is the final +cakewalk of his old Conference. But as far as immediate plans are +concerned, I'm afraid, my dear, you will have to put up with yours +truly. Now, this--what's his name? Lippitt? Pippit?" + +"Something like that! I didn't quite make it out." + +"Say Pippit! Certainly _seems_ to be a decent chap. Tells a straight +story, too. Knows this fellow Brown for a crook. We didn't ask him _how_ +he knew--" + +"It wasn't necessary, John. I have _never_ liked the man's looks. I +spoke to Babbitt about him, and he said he had taken him on trial for +three months, and he seemed a smart fellow, and that was all he knew. Of +course I couldn't ask Babbitt to discharge him because I didn't like his +looks, now could I?" + +"--but we can find out about that later!" Mr. Aymer went on calmly. "Has +seen Brown chinning with a pal--" + +"John! I do wish you were not so slangy!" + +"Has seen Brown holding sweet converse with a comrade tried and true, of +specially obnoxious character. Look here, Lucy!" Mr. Aymer blew a smoke +ring and looked inquiringly at his wife, knitting briskly in her corner +by the rose-shaded lamp. "How _does_ your friend Nippitt know all this? +I want to go a little bit slow here." + +"Oh, John! you _are_ so tiresome! I am sure, and so is Mary, that Pippit +is perfectly truthful. Why, you have only to look at him! When he +smiles--John, you needn't laugh! I would believe anything that boy said. +And here he offers of his own free will to watch the house at night for +a week, or as long as is necessary, if we will just give him a shakedown +in the shed. I am sure the least we can do is to accept such an offer as +that. The old night watchman would never offer to do such a thing." + +"The night watchman is not paid to sleep in people's sheds, my dear!" + +"Well, he might as well. He never comes through this street at all, that +I know of. _Well_, John, did you tell Lippitt--Pippit--he was to come? I +shall feel _so_ safe if he is there!" + +"Yes!" said Mr. Aymer slowly. "I told him he might come, and now the +question is whether I am only a plain fool, or a--" + +"And now we need not lose our sleep!" Mrs. Aymer laid down her knitting, +and came forward to rumple her John's hair affectionately, and deposit a +kiss on his forehead. "You ought not to lose one wink of sleep just now, +John, with stock-taking just coming on, and if I lie awake I am such a +_fright_ next day, and you don't like me to be a fright, do you, dear?" + +"Neither to be nor to have!" said John. "Sooner shall Pippit occupy the +shed for life." + +"The loft could be made into a perfectly good bedroom if ever--" Mrs. +Aymer cast a guilty glance at her husband, and went to fetch the +cribbage board. + +While this conversation was going on in the parlor with its rose chintz +hangings, another dialogue was being held in the kitchen. Mary admired +the parlor, dusted reverentially its _bibelots_, plumped its cushions to +perfection; but for coziness, she must say, give her her kitchen! + +It certainly was cozy this evening, with the red half-curtains drawn, +and the lamplight shining on white enamel and blue crockery; shining on +Mary, too, sitting in her low rocking-chair, knitting as swiftly and +steadily as was the lady in the parlor. They were fast friends, mistress +and maid, and it was a race between them which should produce the more +socks and mufflers in this year when all the world was knitting. + +Pippin, sitting as near as he thought manners would allow, watched the +flying fingers and glittering needles, and wished that he might be a +sock, just for a minute, to feel how soft her hands would be. Now Mary's +hands were not soft; she would have been ashamed if they had been: firm, +strong little hands, used to work ever since she could remember. + +The two had just been preparing Pippin's shakedown in the shed, she +deprecating, fearing he would sleep but poorly on a straw mattress, he +glowing with praise of as dandy an outfit as anyone would want to see. + +"Straw mattress!" he repeated. "Straw'll do for me, Miss Flower. Why, +come to think of it, I don't know as I hardly ever slep' on anything +_but_ straw except while I was to Mis' Baxter's, over to Kingdom. She +had wool tops to her beds, and they were surely elegant. I have heard +of folks havin' curled hair, horses' hair, in their beds; did ever you +hear of that?" + +Yes, Mary had heard of that. She forbore to say that her own neat white +bed upstairs boasted a hair mattress. As Mrs. Aymer said, it was real +economy, but still--and in her heart she was wondering how and where +this young man had grown up. Of course they had wool top mattresses at +the Home--and mother had had nothing but straw--poor mother! Mary +shivered a little. She too saw visions sometimes; one came upon her now, +of the straw mattress being taken away, with its scanty coverings, and +sold by Him for drink. 'Twas summer, he said; no need of beds and +bedclothes in summer. "Sleep floor, nice 'n' cool!" It was after that +that mother left him, and took her to the Home. Poor mother! + +Mary became aware that a silence had fallen. Looking up, she met +Pippin's bright eyes fixed on her with a look half eager, half +appealing. + +"What is it?" she asked involuntarily. "Did you ask me something, Mr. +Pippin? I--I was just thinking--" + +"I didn't!" Pippin spoke slowly, and his voice had not its usual joyous +ring. "But I'd like to ask you something, Miss Flower; or perhaps tell +you would be more what I mean. But maybe I'm keepin' you up?" He made as +if to rise. + +Mary glanced at the clock. + +"No indeed!" she said. "It's only nine, Mr. Pippin. I don't hardly ever +go up before half past. I'd be glad to hear anything you have to tell +me." + +"I don't know as you will!" Pippin spoke rather ruefully. "Be glad, I +mean. I--I haven't been quite square with your Boss, Miss Flower. I +haven't, that's a fact. No!" as Mary looked up, startled. "I don't mean +I've told him anything that wasn't so. I believe it's all as I think and +more so; but what I would say is, there's a heap I haven't told him. You +see I--I dunno just how to put it--I felt to help him through this deal +that I knew them fellers was puttin' up; and--and--what I would say--if +I'd told him the whole of what there was to tell, mebbe he wouldn't have +let me help. I'm doin' the right thing, young lady, no fears of that; +the Lord showed me; but I'm scared, fear mebbe I ain't doin' it the +right way. So I thought if I might tell you the way I was fixed--what +say?" + +"Certainly, Mr. Pippin! I'll be pleased to hear, as I said." + +Mary laid down her work, and looked straight at Pippin with her honest +blue eyes. That made Pippin blush and feel as if a blue knife had gone +through him. To cover his confusion, he felt for his file, drew it out +and whistled softly on it; then, seeing Mary's look change to one of +open amazement, he fell into still deeper confusion. + +"It's a file!" he explained. "I always carry it. It's handy--" He broke +off short, and made a desperate plunge. "I wondered if--if _you_ +wondered--how I come to be so cocksure of that guy's bein' a crook. Did +you?" + +"Well!" Mary hesitated a moment. "Yes! I didn't doubt but you did know, +but--yes, I did wonder some." + +"That's what I've got to tell you. I've knowed that guy ever since we +was little shavers. We was--you may say--raised together, for a spell; +that is, we was learned together, anyway." + +"You mean--you went to school together?" + +Pippin leaned forward, his eyes very bright. + +"Bashford's school!" he said. "Bashford's gang. Sneak-thievin', +pocket-pickin', breakin' and enterin'. Instruction warranted _com_plete. +That's the school we went to, young lady. I know Nosey Bashford because +I was a crook like him--only I will say I could do a better job--" +Pippin's chin lifted a little--"till the Lord took holt of me. Now you +know where I stand! And gorry to 'Liza!'" he added silently; "do you +s'pose I've got to git off this song and dance every time I meet any +person that I value their good opinion? I want you to understand the +Lord ain't lettin' me off any too easy, now I tell you!" + +"But think," he assured himself, "how much easier you breathe when it's +off your chest! I expect the Lord knows full well just who ought to be +told things, and plans accordin'." + +But Pippin had never heard of the _Ancient Mariner_. + +Mary Flower had gone very pale, and her sweet face was grave; but her +eyes still met Pippin's frankly. "Go on!" she said. "You've said too +much, or you've said too little; either way you'll have to finish now. +But be careful, for I shall believe everything you say." + +"Now wouldn't that--" murmured Pippin; then he was silent for a little, +fingering his file absently. Mary thought he must hear the beating of +her heart, but he did not, for his own was sounding trip hammers in his +ears. She would believe everything--she would _believe_! Lord make him +worthy--at least not leave him be more un-so than--Pippin drew a long, +sobbing breath. At last he lifted his head. + +"I left that gang when I was eighteen years old. I'd broke Nosey's beak +for him long before that, fightin' when we was kids. He was a mean kid. +I see he has it in for me still, and though I'm sorry, in the way of a +Christian, that I broke it, still I'm kind o' glad too." + +"So am I!" Mary spoke impulsively. + +Pippin looked up in surprise, and a smile broke over his anxious face. +"Is that so?" he said. "Well, Nosey never was real attractive, any time +that I remember. Anyhow, come to grow to my stren'th, I quit. I didn't +like them nor their ways; low-down is what I call Bashford's. But yet I +didn't quit the trade: no, ma'am! Not then. The Lord didn't judge me +ready by then. I stayed in it, and I done well in it--" + +"Excuse me!" Mary's voice faltered a little. "What trade? I don't quite +understand--" + +Pippin stared at her. + +"Like I said. Sneakin', breakin' and enterin'--burglary, to say the real +word. There! I wasn't ashamed to do it then, nor I won't be afraid to +say it now. I told you I was a crook, and I was--till goin' on four year +ago. Then--" a curious softness always came into Pippin's voice when he +reached this part of his story--"I found the Lord! Yes, young lady, I +found the Lord, for keeps. I--" he glanced at the clock. "'Twould take +too long to tell you all about it to-night; some day I will, if you'll +take time to listen. I was in prison, and He visited me. All along of a +good man who _cared_, and took holt of me and raised me up where I could +see and hear, and know it _was_ the Lord. If ever you hear of a man +named Elder Hadley--" + +"_What!_" said Mary Flower. + +Had Pippin seen her face at that moment, he might have stopped; but he +stooped to pick up the ball she dropped. Mary opened her lips, +hesitated, seemed to reflect, finally thanked him for the ball and went +on with her work. + +"That's his name!" Pippin was looking at the table now, his chin propped +in his hands. "Best man the Lord ever made, bar none. I was in darkness, +and he brought me out. He brought me out. Amen!" + +There was another pause, while the clock ticked and the kettle purred +gently on the stove. Presently Pippin pushed his chair back and rose to +his feet, his shoulders very square, his chin well up. + +"I'll ask you to believe that I've kep' straight since then!" he said +gravely. + +"I do believe it!" said Mary Flower. Again brown eyes and blue met in a +long earnest look; again Pippin drew a long breath. + +"That sounds good to me!" he said simply. "I thank the Lord for that, +Miss Flower. I don't know what I'd have done if you--had felt otherways. +Now--" he glanced at the clock--"I mustn't stay another moment, keepin' +you up like this. It's nigh on ten o'clock. There's more to it, a heap +more. I'd like you to know why I come here to the city, and what I'm +tryin' to do, and all about it. You--you'll try to--I'd like to regard +you as a friend, if I might take the liberty. I've never had a lady +friend, except Mis' Baxter, and though she is a wonder, and more than +kind, yet she's--" + +Married and stout, and middle-aged, and altogether aunt-like; speak out, +Pippin. But Pippin did not speak out; he stood and looked with bright, +asking eyes, at once brave and timid. Mary held out her hand frankly. + +"Sure, we will be friends!" she said. "I haven't ever--that is--I'll be +glad of your friendship, I am sure, Mr. Pippin. And now I will say good +night, and hoping you will sleep well and no disturbance for anyone." + + * * * * * + +Having witnessed two _tête-à -têtes_, we may as well glance at a third, +which was held about the same time, though in a place wholly unlike +either rose-shaded parlor or shining kitchen. + +A back room in a slum grog shop: dingy, dirty, reeking with stale +tobacco, steeped in fumes of vilest liquor. Some of the liquor is on the +table now, in two glasses; some of the tobacco is in the pipes, which +two men are smoking as they sit, one sprawling, the other hunched, in +their respective chairs. An elderly man, low-browed, heavy-jawed, the +brutal-criminal type that every prison knows; the other young, slight, +narrow-chested, with a crooked nose and small eyes set too near +together. + +"All ready for to-night?" the elder was saying, in a hoarse, whispering +voice, that matched his face. "What's your hurry, Bill? I'm takin' +things easy these days. I'm gettin' on in years, and when I take on a +night job, I want to be sure it's all slick as grease. What's your +hurry?" + +The other clenched his fist and brought it down on the table with an +oath. + +"I want Pippin!" he said. "That's what I'm after. You can have the swag, +Dad; it's all straight, I tell you--silver locked up nights in the +sideboard, locks that a kid could pick. No money kep' in the house, but +good silver; you can have the whole bag, but let--me--get--my hands on +Pippin!" + +The elder ruffian looked at him curiously. The little eyes were aflame +with something more than greed and cunning. + +"Go slow, Bill!" said the affectionate father. "Go slow and easy! You +don't want to get twenty years for a job like this." + +"I'd take hell," said the other, "to smash his face for him!" + +"That's it, is it?" the older man whistled, and a grim smile broke over +his countenance. "He did maul you bad, Bill, no mistake. Not that you +ever were a beauty!" he added musingly. "Your mother's folks is all +homely. Well, if that's all you want, to get even with Pippin, why not +happen on him in that lane some night and--hey? Then we could take our +time about gettin' the swag, and he be out of the way, see?" + +"That ain't all!" The young man's face flamed with passion as he bent +forward. "I want to get him _there_, Dad! I want to show her--to show +them folks--that he's a crook from way back. Didn't I tell you he'd got +old Nipper Crewe's wheel? Goin' about smilin' and singin'--damn +him!--workin' his way in smooth as oil, and all the time fitted out with +the best set of tools in the city. He's ben watchin' the house all the +week, an' I've a hunch he's there to-night. I want to show him up! I +want they should see his face when I do it--see it before I smash--" He +choked with passion; his upper lip curled back, and his breath hissed +through the bared teeth. + +The older Bashford laughed outright. "Boys is boys!" he said. "You're +really mad, ain't you, Bill? Well, I shan't stand in your way. I owe +Pippin one myself, ---- ---- him! But--hell! he is a slick one, no two +ways about that. Joshin' on the pious, is he? And Nipper's kit handy by? +That's good, that is! We'll get in ahead of him, Bill, sure thing we +will. Now le's go home and get a mou'ful of sleep before we start in." + +And all this time, while these three couples were spinning their +unconscious threads for the Shuttle, under the quiet starlit sky the +night train was drawing nearer and nearer, bringing among its +hundred-odd passengers a quiet, bright-eyed man in clerical dress. + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +PIPPIN KEEPS WATCH, WITH RESULTS + + +Mary was a long time going to bed that night. In the first place she +could not find her blue ribbon bow, and being as economical as she was +methodical, this distressed her. It was a new ribbon, bought at a +special sale, and marked down almost unbelievably low, because there was +a flaw in the weaving which would never be seen when made up. It was a +good bow too; it is not everyone who can make a pretty bow; and Mary was +perfectly sure that she had pinned it on her neat collar this evening. +She searched the room thoroughly--such a pretty, tidy room, all white +and blue like her kitchen--even peeping under bed and bureau, but no +blue bow was to be found. + +Then there was her chapter to be read; hard reading to-night, though it +was Ruth, which she loved; hard to keep her mind on the text, her eyes +on the page. Everything was all a-flutter, somehow. Mary sighed, and put +her bookmark in soberly. She was not a very good girl, she thought, to +be thinking of--other things--when she was reading her Bible. Then--blue +kimono substituted for blue one-piece dress--out came Mary's hairpins +and down came Mary's hair. It took a good while to do Mary's hair. It +was not only the quantity of it--it flowed down and about her like a +cloak--it was the quality. It _would_ curl up round the brush, and +break into ripples in the very teeth of the comb. It was a storage +battery of electricity, and if a thunderstorm were to come on now, while +it was down, you would see long golden strands separate themselves from +the mass and fly straight up from her head. There being no thunderstorms +this night, Mary, with firm, long strokes of the brush, with searching +arguments of the comb, brought all the unruly gold into subjection, made +it lie as nearly smooth as it could over her shoulders, finally braided +it tight in two massive braids to be tossed back over her shoulders with +a little sigh. + +"_That's_ done!" said Mary. + +But even then, and even when her prayers were said and herself composed +in her narrow white bed, as Saint Ursula in her wide one in the +Parmegianino picture (looking rather like her, I declare!), Mary was not +ready for sleep. + + But through her brain of weal and woe + So many thoughts went to and fro, + That vain it were her eyes to close. + +Most of her thoughts hovered, it must be confessed, about Pippin on his +straw mattress in the shed. Why did she think about him so much? Mary +asked herself, and found no answer, unless the blood tingling in her +cheeks were an answer. + +Mary's had been a cool, detached, impersonal little life, in the years +of her girlhood. Life at the Home, pleasant, regular, unconnected with +emotions in any way, had changed the trembling, palpitating child who +started at every sudden sound into a calm, self-possessed, rather +matter-of-fact young woman. She did not often think of the old days. Why +should she? They were gone, and where was the sense in stirring herself +all up when it did no good to any one? It stood to reason! + +But Pippin's story to-night brought the old time back whether she would +or no. She lay still, staring out into the starlit night. His story--how +strange that he should have had such a childhood! Was that why she +seemed to have known him all her life? The old times! Perhaps it was the +straw mattress that brought it back so clear. She could smell that musty +straw now, so unlike the clean, fresh smell of that nice new one out in +the shed. + +She saw her mother, the little gray shawl drawn tightly over her +shoulders, the fair hair strained back from the face with its too early +lines of pain and grief; saw her eyes as they followed the poor bed +dragged almost from under their feet by the shambling figure. Oh! how +she had hated that sodden, stumbling figure! And the child, clinging +passionately to those poor skirts--thin, worn to shreds, but always +clean; poor mother was always clean!--clinging, crying, shaken with a +passion of anger, grief, tenderness, which swept away all power of +speech--could that child be herself? Yet he was kind, when he was sober; +yes, father was kind--indeed, he had never been hard to her. Often and +often he would call her to him, caress her, call her his little +gal--while her flesh shrank from him, loathing the smell of liquor--he +always smelled of liquor, even when sober--of rank tobacco--pah! + +Mary supposed she was hard-hearted: how could she love a man like that? +She adored her mother; the tears came smarting into her eyes at the +thought of her. But for him, mother might be alive to-day; poverty, +hunger, hard work, had aged her, killed her, long before her time, poor +mother! Look at her there; see her eyes following the mattress. + +Mary turned in her bed, and a sigh that was almost a sob broke from her. +She hated wicked people--yes, she hated them; and weak people, too, +people who made others suffer just because they were too feeble to deny +themselves the drink that was poison-- + +"I _hate_ them!" said Mary aloud. Then she thought of Pippin, and +blushed again. Pippin did not hate wicked or weak people. He seemed to +love them. How was it? Mary, cool, kind, a little aloof, did not +understand it. They had talked together a good deal during these past +two weeks, and she had wondered at the glow in his eyes, the thrill in +his voice, when he spoke of his religion. Mary was a good +Congregationalist; she went to church, and said her prayers, and read +her Bible. She supposed--why, of course she loved the Lord; she would be +a wicked girl if she didn't; but--well, she was different, that was all. +Of course, with all he had gone through--how bright his eyes were! How +strong his faith must be! She supposed she was cold-hearted; yet when +Pippin sang a hymn, she felt as if Heaven was close by. It surely was a +privilege to know a person like that. And to think that he had once +been--how to believe it? How not to believe anything he said, with those +bright eyes looking straight into her? Perhaps the Lord would soften her +heart-- Pippin was right down there in the shed--think of it! She hoped +he wouldn't lie cold; it felt so safe, having him there! She put an +extra comforter--she did hope he would sleep well-- + +At this point Mary went to sleep herself. + + * * * * * + +She slept peacefully for some hours, lying still and straight as Saint +Ursula herself; then she began to dream. Pippin was not sleeping well, +out there in the shed; likely it had come up cold in the night. He had +got up and come into the house, for warmth, of course. She heard him +stumbling about among the chairs and tables; if she had only shown him +the switch! Hark! He was whistling, calling out--_hark!_ + +Mary sprang up, broad awake. Something was going on downstairs. Voices, +low and angry, hasty steps--the house on fire? She was up in an instant, +slipped on the blue kimono and over it a heavy cloak, ran down the back +stairs just as John Aymer ran down the front. Opening opposite doors +quietly, they came upon a strange sight. + +In the middle of the kitchen was Pippin, at grips with another man of +slighter build than himself; at one side stood a third man, older and +heavier than either, watching the two. + +They struggled silently for a moment; then Pippin's greater strength +prevailing, he forced the other back toward the wall. Suddenly the +latter wrenched his right hand free; wrenched himself round; there was a +flash of bright metal--Pippin ducked, and the brass knuckles crashed +into the smooth plaster, cracking and starring it. Pippin had been +struggling cheerfully and composedly up to now, but when his eye caught +the brazen flash, he went dead white under his tan. With a sharp blow he +beat down the murderous hand, caught the ruffian by the throat, ran him +back across the room and dashed him against the opposite wall with a +violence that shook the house. The man dropped like lead, and Pippin, +towering over him like Michael over the dragon, turned to face the +other. At this moment, before any one could move, the outer door was +opened and a giant form appeared in the doorway, lantern in one hand, +truncheon in the other. + +"What's going on here?" asked Dennis Cassidy, the night watchman. + +The elder man stepped quickly between him and the others. + +"Officer, I give this man in charge!" his voice was quiet, but venomous. +"Assault and battery, mebbe manslaughter, too. He's half killed my son, +a respectable tradesman." + +The policeman looked from one to the other; then, as Bashford stretched +his hand toward Pippin's collar, he motioned him back. + +"Hold still!" he commanded. "Everybody stand where they be!" Turning for +a moment in the doorway, he drew forth his whistle and sounded a long, +piercing note. "Now then, you!" he nodded to Bashford. "What are you and +your respectable tradesman son doing here this time o' night? Hallo, +young chap!" as he recognized Pippin. "_You_ in this game?" + +Mr. Aymer stepped forward. + +"Good evening, Cassidy. This is the young man I told you about, who was +going to watch the house for me. These are the men he found--I +suppose--breaking and entering. I think--I am _sure_ of his honesty!" +The last phrase was uttered somewhat explosively. Mrs. Aymer had crept +downstairs after him, and pinched his arm violently. + +"That's as may be, sir! Don't you say anything yet, my bo!" to Pippin. +"I asked _you_," he spoke to Bashford, "what you and your son were doing +here this time o' night." + +"Watchin' him!" the reply came coolly. "I give him in charge, officer, +and it's your dooty to arrest him. If you don't know him, ask the Third +District force! Ask 'em what they know about Pippin the Kid, alias +Moonlighter, alias Jack-o'-lantern--he's well known to every cop in that +district. Me and my son have seen him wormin' his way in here, deceivin' +this good gentleman and his family; me and my son have knowed him from +a--" Mr. Bashford paused a moment--"knowed him for a crook from way +back." + +"I don't believe a word of it!" said John Aymer. + +Pippin looked up, white to the lips, but his chin held high. + +"It's true!" he said. + +There was a moment of dead silence, broken only by a tiny squeak from +the stairs where Mrs. Aymer crouched invisible. All eyes were fixed on +Pippin, and he held them all, glancing from one to the other. + +"Up to three years ago," he said slowly, "I was all that. I'm straight +now. I'm an honest man. Mr. Aymer, sir, I'd ought to have told you +before; I ask your pardon! But I'm an honest man, and I come here +to-night to protect your property." + +"You _ought_ to have told me, Lippitt!" Mr. Aymer spoke in a troubled +voice. "I ought to have known if there was anything like this behind +you." + +A little blue figure came forward, a little warm hand was slipped into +Pippin's. + +"I knew!" said Mary-in-the-kitchen. "He told me!" + +"God bless you!" Pippin grasped the little hand and squeezed it till +Mary had to bite her lips to keep back a scream. + +But now the younger Bashford, regaining the senses which had been +knocked out of him, struggled up on his elbow and pointed a shaking +finger at Pippin. + +"Yes, he's straight!" he cried in a voice broken with passion. "Yes, +he's an honest man all right, all right! Get his wheel, his innercent +little scissor-grinder's wheel! Bring it in from the shed where he's +kep' it handy. Nipper Crewe's wheel, well known to every burglar in the +state, with the finest kit of breakin' tools made by man hid away in it! +Fetch the wheel, somebody! The ---- skunk has broke my leg or I'd go." + +What is this? From dead white Pippin has gone vivid scarlet from brow to +neck. He steps forward hastily. + +"I'll bring the wheel!" he says. + +"No you don't!" the giant policeman fills the doorway, seeming to expand +till it is a close fit on either side. "No, nor you either!" as the +elder Bashford made a motion. "You three stay where you be! Yes, sir, if +you'll be so kind!" This to John Aymer, who has silently indicated his +readiness to go. + +No one speaks while the householder slips out. Pippin, still holding the +little hand, has dropped his brave crest and stands with hanging head +and downcast looks. What can it mean? Mary casts little anxious glances +at him. Mrs. Aymer weeps audibly on the stairs; the Bashfords, father +and son, seem to swell with anticipatory triumph; Dennis Cassidy, +thoroughly puzzled, glowers at the three from under his shaggy eyebrows. + +As the light rattle of the wheel was heard, Pippin started, and darted a +strange look at Mary. + +"I ask your pardon, Miss Mary!" he muttered. "I hadn't ought--" + +Mr. Aymer entered with the wheel, and Nosey Bashford struggled to his +knees, still pointing his shaking finger. + +"Fetch it here!" he shrieked. "I know the trick of it. Here!" In his +eagerness he scrambled up and hopped on one foot (his leg was not +broken, by the way, only twisted in falling) to where John Aymer stood. +His fingers hovered over the wheel, clutching and clawing with +eagerness; his breath whistled through his teeth. John Aymer looked at +him and turned away with a shudder of disgust. "Here! Here it is! See, +copper? See, Governor? You shove back this plate--look! look, now, and +see how straight he is! He, he! What--damn!--what's this?" + +He broke short off, and stood glaring. All the others pressed eagerly +forward, save Pippin, who stood like a statue, looking at the floor. +Dennis Cassidy, with a massive shove, sent Nosey staggering back, then +thrust his finger into the narrow cavity and drew out, and held up--a +little bow of blue ribbon. + +It was at this instant, before any one had time to speak, that a firm, +quick foot crunched on the gravel outside. Some one came up the step, +and looking over the policeman's shoulder, stood in silent amazement. +Pippin looked up, uttered a great cry, and sprang forward. + +"Elder!" he cried. "Elder Hadley, sir! I'm straight! As God is above us +in Heaven, sir! I'm straight." + +The air turned black about him, and for a moment he saw nothing but +whirling sparks of fire. When his vision cleared, he found himself +leaning on Lawrence Hadley's shoulder. A sob broke from him. + +"I'm straight, Elder!" he repeated. + +"Of course you are straight, Pippin! Easy, old chap. Take it easy! Look +out, officer!" + +Mr. Dod Bashford, after one glance at the contents of the secret +compartment, had been edging unostentatiously toward the door. As +Cassidy stepped aside to let the chaplain enter, he made a sudden dash, +amazingly swift for so heavy a man, and diving between the colossal +legs, got halfway out of the door; but calculating his chance a little +too closely, he upset the equilibrium of Mr. Cassidy, who sat down +suddenly and heavily, blocking the doorway more completely than before. + +"Hold on, Dod!" he said, seizing Mr. Bashford's legs in a grip of iron. +"Hold on! I ain't sure about young Pippin, or whatever his name is, but +I've no doubts about you, my man. You're wanted on several counts, and I +don't doubt but your respectable son is too. _Hold still!_ You don't +want I should have to knock you out before the ladies, do you? I'm +ashamed of you!" + +Bashford struggled savagely, desperately, muttering curses under his +breath. His son moved quietly to the window and investigated the +firmness of the fly screen. + +But now more footsteps were heard. Two men came running along the lane, +into the yard, up the steps; stars shone, truncheons waved, handcuffs +clinked. In two minutes all was over, and the Bashfords, relapsing +instantly into the hunch, skulk, cringe of the habitual criminal, stood +in apparent humility before the Force. + +One of the newcomers, surveying the group, broke into a jovial laugh. + +"Well done, Dennis Cassidy!" he cried. "Bully for you! Let's hear anyone +say again that you go to sleep on your beat!" + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +A KNOT IN THE THREAD + + +It was afternoon of the next day. Mary's kitchen was in its customary +trim perfection, so far as Mary could make it so. She had scrubbed and +polished all the morning, determined to remove every trace of the +hateful doings of the night before. Such actions going on in her +kitchen! Real _bad folks_ there, and policemen, and all! Of course the +room needed cleaning; it stood to reason. One trace, however, could not +be scrubbed or polished away. It would need more than brush and mop to +mend that plaster, cracked and starred where the savage blow had struck +it. Mary, gazing at it over her broom, found herself suddenly sobbing, +the tears running down her cheek. + +"He would have been killed!" she murmured. "But for being so quick, he +would have been killed. _My soul!_ Oh, I thank the Lord for saving him. +I do thank Him!" + +But that was morning. Now, as I said, it was afternoon, and Mary, in her +afternoon apron with its saucy pockets and bewildering blue ribbons, was +putting away the newly washed luncheon dishes. Pippin had helped her +wash them; he would not take no for an answer. Coming a little early for +his promised talk with the Elder, he had found Mary still at work, in +blue pinafore, and had taken a hand as a matter of course. They were +very silent at first over the dishes. Both were shaken by the events of +the night. Pippin still felt the theft of the blue ribbon heavy on his +soul. Mary, stealing glances at him under her eyelashes, saw again the +flash of the brass knuckles; saw--in thought only, thank God! Oh, all +her life she would be thanking God--the bright face all crushed and +shattered-- + +She gave a little scream under her breath, lifting her head quickly. +Pippin stooped at the same moment to set down a dish, and their heads +came together smartly. This brought laughter, and thereafter things went +much better. They talked--of trivial things, to be sure, the weather, +and crockery, and hardware. Both instinctively avoided the depths, but +somehow each found an astonishing quality in the mere sound of the +other's voice, something soothing, cheering, uplifting, all at once. So +the dishwashing was a singularly pleasant little ceremony, only too +short, Pippin thought. Seemed a pity folks didn't eat more. He would not +hear of Mary's leaving the kitchen when Mr. Hadley came. The idea! He +had nothing to say but he'd say it better for her bein' there; nor would +he accept Mrs. Aymer's kindly proffer of the parlor. Full as much +obliged to her, but--he looked appealingly at the chaplain, who laughed +outright. + +"We shall both be more comfortable in the kitchen, Lucy!" he said. "Come +on, Pippin!" + +So there they were, Pippin and his best friend, sitting by the table +with its bright afternoon cloth of Turkey red, talking, listening, +talking again; the elder man sitting with his head on his hand, his +elbow on the table, in the attitude we all remember, the younger bending +eagerly forward, hands on knees, face alight with happiness. + +"No!" Pippin was saying. "You don't tell me Pete is pardoned out. Well, +that does sound good to me. Old Pete! Green grass! Well, he's airned it, +Pete has. And what's he goin' to do, Elder? Pete's no chicken by now!" + +"Going back to lobstering. Some friends have bought back his boat for +him"--some friends indeed! Lawrence Hadley, where is that new suit you +were going to buy without fail this summer? You still have on the old +one, white at the seams, threadbare at the cuffs!--"and he and Tom are +going into partnership." + +"Tom out too? Great! That surely is great, Elder." + +"Yes, Tom is out, on parole; but we shall never see him back, I am sure. +I took your advice, Pippin, gave him the money test, and he rose to it +at once. You were right. He needed some one to trust him, and to show +that he trusted him." + +"You bet he did!" Pippin sprang up, and began pacing the room with +light, eager steps. "You bet he did, and you done it! Green grass! I +would say glory to God! And he found the Lord? Did Tom find the Lord, +Elder? He couldn't help but, with you showin' him!" + +"Why--" the chaplain paused, and a twinkle crept into his blue eyes, "I +think he did, Pippin, but not just in the way you mean. The Lord has +many ways, and everybody cannot be an evangelist, and go singing and +praying about the country as I understand you do." + +Pippin's eyes were very large and round. + +"Sure I do! What else would I? The Lord give me the voice, didn't He? +Behooves me praise Him with it; that's right, ain't it, Elder? Or ain't +it? Have I took too much upon me? Say the word, and--" + +"Perfectly right! Perfectly right, Pippin! Sing all you possibly can. +But Tom cannot sing, and, if you ask me, I think he would make a very +poor hand at praying; but he's a good fellow for all that. It's good +honest work he's going to do, too; pleasant work. I'd like to go +lobstering myself for a change!" + +"You wouldn't! Not with all that mess of cold water heavin' up round you +all the time--honest, Elder! I never was in a boat in my life, and I +never hope to be." + +The chaplain sighed and smiled. The sea had been his life dream. It came +before him now, blue, alluring, mysterious--he brushed it away, and bade +Pippin sit down. + +"You've had your innings," he said, "and I've told you all I'm going to; +now it's your turn to tell me, young man. How comes it that you are back +in the city, Pippin? Didn't I warn you against it? Didn't I tell you you +were sure to get into trouble if you came back?" + +Pippin sat down and drew out his file. + +"You sure did, Elder! and I never meant to set foot in the darned hole, +honest I never! But look the way things come round! I had to, hadn't I? +I just fair had to! I wrote you about that, didn't I?" + +"No! You wrote me that you had found the dandyest place that ever was, +and that you wanted to fill it plumb up with boys and bring them up +clean and straight, and that you were going to do it soon as ever you +had finished the job you had on hand, but you didn't say what the job +was, and you didn't say that it would be bringing you back to the last +place in the world where you ought to be." + +"Is that so?" Pippin ran the file through his hair anxiously. "Now what +a lunkhead I be! I sure thought I told you, Elder. Why--well, anyways, +I'll tell you now. Why, 'twas at that place, Cyrus Poor Farm--it _is_ a +dandy place, now I want you should understand that; and the dandyest +folks in it ever _I_ see--almost!" His eye caught the flutter of blue +ribbons as Mary entered after hanging out her dish towels. "And--why, +'twas there I found the Old Man, and made him the promise. He's on the +blink, you see; in poor shape the Old Man is, and no mistake; and he +wants to see his little gal before he goes--well, wherever he _is_ +goin'. His little gal, you understand, Elder; his kid, the only kid he +ever had, I presume. Mother took her away from him--I'm sure no one can +blame her for that--but--well, she's woman grown now, and he's never set +eyes on her since she was a kid. Now wouldn't that give you a pain, +Elder? He's a rip from Riptown, and he's never done a cent's worth of +good that I know of; but there 'tis! And he plead with me, plead real +pitiful, I'd find his little gal for him. What would you done, Elder? I +looked for grace in him, honest I did, and I couldn't find one smitch, +no sir! not one single, solitary smitch, till--what I mean--till--till I +see how bad he wanted his little gal; and I thought mebbe that was the +way it took him--you get me, Elder?" + +"I get you, Pippin! Go on!" + +"And--and mebbe if I could find the kid--I can't help but call her a +kid, though she's a woman now, if she's alive--if I could take that kid +to him, he might--get me?--might find the Lord through the lot he set by +her. I ain't puttin' it the right way, but--" + +Pippin paused, and his eyes finished the sentence. + +"Perfectly clear, Pippin, perfectly clear; I haven't a word to say. You +did right. But who is this old man? You speak as if it were some one I +knew, yet you wrote me that Nipper Crewe died. What old man is this?" + +Pippin stared. + +"Ain't I tellin' you? Old Man Blossom! It's him, and it's his little +May--" + +_Crash!_ Both men sprang to their feet. Mary-in-the-kitchen had dropped +a plate, the first thing she had broken since she entered the Aymers' +service. She stooped hastily to gather up the fragments. Pippin ran to +help her, but she motioned him away, hastily, almost rudely. No, she +thanked him--she was just as much obliged--she thought she could fit the +pieces together. She didn't know what made her so careless--here she +suddenly dropped the pieces again on the floor and ran out of the room +and up the stairs. + +"Green grass!" said Pippin. "Now wouldn't that give you a pain? Just one +plate, and hurt her feelin's like that! They're so delicate in their +feelin's, ladies is. Gee! 'Member when I fell downstairs with the whole +of A corridor's dishes, Elder? Now _that_ was some smash, it sure was!" + +In her own room, standing at the window with wide eyes that staring out +yet saw nothing, Mary Blossom wrestled through her dark hour alone. +This, then, was what it all meant. This was what had brought him to +Blankboro, the bright-eyed singer with his wheel. He was looking for +her. That--that man--had sent him to hunt her down, to drag her from her +safe, happy, respectable home, to drag her back to him where he lay, in +a poorhouse, suffering a little--oh, a very, _very_ little--of what her +mother had suffered through him. After all these years, when she had all +but--not forgotten mother; never! never! she broke into wild sobbing and +crying--but forgotten him, and the shame, and misery, the cold, hunger, +nakedness that he stood for. After all these years he had reached out +that palsied, shaking hand and laid it on her. Or tried to! Mary stood +still, and let the tide of feeling surge through and through her. Grief, +resentment, resistance. Back and forth it flowed, till from its surge a +thought was cast up. _No one knew._ He, Pippin, did not know; never +would know, unless she told him. Why--should--she--tell him? No +one--except Mrs. Appleby, of course; she knew, but she would keep it +close. They never told a girl's past at the Home, unless there was +reason; unless she was adopted, or--or married, or the like of that. +Even Mrs. Aymer knew no more than that she came well recommended. (But +here Mary was mistaken: Lucy Aymer knew all about it.) She had had a +note from Mrs. Appleby, asking her to come to the Home on her first +afternoon out, and she would. She would tell that kind, motherly friend +about--about-- + +The wild tides stopped racing. Her eyes dropped. What should she tell +Mrs. Appleby about Pippin? + +Straightway his figure rose before her. His eyes, dark, bright, glowing, +looked into hers; she forgot Mrs. Appleby. What was it he was saying? + +"He plead with me; plead real pitiful, I'd find his little gal for him. +What would you done, Elder?" + +She knew what he had done himself. He had left everything, he, a +stranger--that is, one that had been a sinner--and come back where he +knew there was danger for him, to look for the child of an old rascal +who was nothing to him. That was what Pippin had done; and she, the old +man's child-- + +New waves this time, Mary! Hot waves of shame and contrition, sweeping +resistless through you, driving grief and anger and resistance away into +the nothingness of past emotion. + +Long she stood there motionless, still staring with unseeing eyes. At +last she heaved a long, sobbing sigh. She would be good. God make her a +good girl. She would try. + +What was it he had said the other night, when he told her that strange +thing about the Bible in his room, about the rules of some queer Society +or other? She heard his laugh ring out clear and joyous, saw his head +thrown back. + +"Honest, Miss Mary, I'll never forget the Gideons. Why, since that +night, if ever anything gets me riled up, I take and read 13th +Corinthians. Then I'll say to myself, 'Have you give all your goods to +feed the poor?' I'll say, 'Have you give your body to be burned? Well, +then, dry up!'" + +Mary laughed, a little broken laugh with tears in it. + +"I certainly haven't given my body to be burned!" she said. + +Half an hour later, a composed and cheerful Mary came quietly down the +back stairs to the kitchen. The traces of tears were nearly gone; cold +water can do much in that way. A Mary-in-the-parlor might have blotted +them out with powder, but Mary-in-the-kitchen had never used powder in +her clean, wholesome, scientific-general life. Her eyes merely looked +rather larger than usual, and the long lashes were still curling from +the water. She was not smiling yet, but she was ready to smile when she +met the eyes of her friend. How they would flash when she told him, when +he learned that his search was over, that she was Mary Blossom, that she +would go back with him, to do what duty and kindness could do! How he +would spring up-- + +So coming lightly down to the door, she paused a moment, not to listen, +just to make sure she was not interrupting anything private. Pippin was +still leaning forward, light, alert, as if even sitting he felt the +wings on his ankles; he was looking at his friend, with a glance half +timid, half whimsical. + +"You see, Elder," he said, "I _ain't_ exactly alone, like you think. +You're right about it's bein' poor dope for a guy to live all by +himself, but lemme tell you! I've got--what I would say is--well, I've +got a family of my own a'ready--kind of! Not what you'd call a _reg'lar_ +family, but yet they're dandy, sir, they are so! Lemme tell you! I never +told a soul about 'em, but--" + +I have described the Mary who came down the stairs; it was a different +Mary who confronted Pippin as, turning his head, he saw her and sprang +to his feet. Marble white, with a blind dazed look, as if she had been +struck in the face, the girl stood motionless. + +"_My soul!_" cried Pippin. "What's the matter, Miss Mary?" + +"What has happened, Mary?" Mr. Hadley had risen, too; both men stood +looking at her in concern. Had she struck her head against something? +the chaplain asked anxiously. + +Mary was very well, she thanked Mr. Hadley; she had a little headache, +that was all. She kept her eyes fixed on the chaplain, not even glancing +at Pippin. + +"I came," she said, "to tell you--Mr. Hadley, I heard what--what the +young man was saying, and I came to tell you. I am Mary Blossom. It's me +he is looking for." + +"_You!_" Pippin sprang forward, with a shout that rang through the +house. "You, Miss Flower!" + +"My mother gave me the name of Flower when I went to the Home!" Mary +spoke quickly and steadily, her eyes still fixed on those kind blue ones +that always seemed to know what you were going to say before you said +it. "She didn't want my father to find me; I didn't either. He +was--he--never mind!" she hurried on. "But I am Mary Blossom, and I will +go to see my--father, and try to do my duty by him." She paused. "That's +all!" she said, and turned, still with that blind, stricken look, as if +to leave the room. + +"Stay, Mary!" Mr. Hadley took her hand gently. "No wonder you are +bewildered, my child. Sit down, won't you? Let us talk it over. This is +wonderful news, indeed!" + +"I guess it is!" Pippin had found words at last. "Miss Mary--I--I am +clean dumbfoundered, I guess. You! You, little May Blossom that I used +to play with, back there in the lane? Well, if ever there was a +dunderhead in this world it's me, it sure is. Green grass--I would say, +Glory to God! Why, little May! Why, of course it is! Why, look at the +color of her hair, will you? Just like he said it was, color of a +yearlin' heifer! And--did ever you see a bonehead, Elder? 'Cause you see +one now. May Blossom!" He moved nearer, and held out both hands with an +appealing gesture. "Look at me, won't you? Look at Pippin! Don't you +rec'lect how we'd play together? You couldn't say my name plain at +first. 'Pittin!' you'd say. 'Pippin!' I'd say. 'Say Pippin, kiddy!' and +you says--I can hear you now--'Pip-_pin!_' you says; and +then--what--what's the matter, Miss--Miss Mary? You ain't mad with me, +are you?" He faltered into silence. + +Mary's eyes still clung to the chaplain's desperately. + +"You must excuse me!" she said. Her voice trembled; she shook as if with +cold. "I--my head aches; I must go back--" + +"Yes, my dear!--go up and lie down!" said the kindly chaplain. "Take a +good rest! I'll tell Mrs. Aymer you are not well." + +He led her to the stairs, saw her totter up, feeling her way, watched +till the door closed behind her, then turned to comfort as best he might +a distracted Pippin who stood motionless, gazing with a stricken look at +the door through which Mary had disappeared. As the chaplain advanced +with outstretched hand, he turned bewildered eyes on him. "What--what's +the matter?" he faltered. "What did I do? She wouldn't speak to me, +Elder! she wouldn't look at me! She--gorry to 'Liza, she's mad with me!" + +"No, no, Pippin!" The chaplain, puzzled himself, laid a kindly hand on +the broad shoulder that was shaking like a frightened child's. "She has +a headache, and she very likely didn't sleep last night. I don't believe +you slept either; go home, now, like a good chap, and go to bed. But +stay! First tell me about this family; what on earth do you mean--hey?" + +But Pippin shook his head. + +"Not now! I couldn't tell you about 'em now! To-morrow I will, Elder. +I--I guess I'll go now, sir! I thank you--" He broke off suddenly, with +something like a sob, wrung his friend's hand hard, then went out +drooping, like a broken thing. + +"Dear me, sirs!" said Lawrence Hadley. + + * * * * * + +Pippin did not go to bed. He had had little sleep for several nights; +this last night he had had none. Excitement and emotion had run riot +through him for twenty-four hours, and for the first time in his life he +had turned from his food. These things, added to the lightning stroke of +Mary's revelation and the strangeness of her manner in making it, +brought about a condition which Pippin failed to recognize or to +understand. His head seemed to whirl; his knees felt "like they was +water in 'em"; black specks danced before his eyes. He was dead tired, +and did not know it. Puzzled and bewildered, his simple mind fallen +apart, as it were, into incongruous fragments; asking over and over +again how and why, and again why and how. Deaf for once to the kindly +voices of the creatures of his own brain, which had cheered and +companioned him through these past months, he ranged the fields like a +hunted animal; finally, long after nightfall, he sought his poor room +and dropped exhausted on his bed. Here, as he sat with drooping head and +hanging arms, sleep fell upon him like a mantle of lead, yet he +struggled against it. He was all wrong inside, he now confided to "Ma" +whom he seemed to feel once more beside him. "I'm all wrong!" he +repeated. "It's like sin, or somethin', was gnawin' at me. I will--" +Pippin struggled to his feet and made his little birch-tree bow, but +very wearily, as if the tree had been beaten by tempests, "I will praise +the Lord a spell before now I lay me down to sleep." + +Why, even his voice was going back on him. At the strange, husky sound, +his heart grew cold within him. + +"My God!" he muttered. "What's this? Has Satan got a-holt of me?" + +Clearing his throat violently, he summoned all his strength, and the +great voice broke out like a silver trumpet: + + "Throw out the life line across the dark wave, + There is a brother whom someone should save; + Somebody's brother! Oh, who, then, will dare + To throw out the life line, his peril to share?" + +Thump! thump came the unmistakable sound of an angry boot on the wall. + +"Shut up!" cried an exasperated voice. "Shut up, you darned gospel +shark!" + +Pippin stopped dead; his eyes blazed; molten flames coursed through his +veins. He darted out of his own door and grasped the handle of the next +one. It was locked, but that meant nothing to Pippin the Kid. One +dexterous turn of Mrs. Baxter's hairpin (a dandy tool for light work, +sure!) and the door flew open. + +Mr. Joseph Johnson was a stonemason, and worked hard all day. He needed +his sleep, and was not of mystic or dramatic temperament; it was, +therefore, perhaps hardly strange that he was annoyed by +vehement-tuneful demands for a life line at nine o'clock o' night. At +all events, he was just bending forward to deliver another thump on the +wall when, as has been said, the door flew open, and to him entered a +lightly clad bronze statue, its arm outstretched, its eyes darting +flames. + +"Say!" cried the statue; "who are you that can't hear the Lord praised a +spell? Who are you to stop a man in the middle of his song? Darn your +hide! If you can't sing yourself, be thankful other folks can; you hear +me? Have you said your prayers to-night? You never! Down you go!" + +Mr. Johnson found himself suddenly on his knees, the statue, kneeling +also, holding him tightly by the shirt collar. A short, sharp injunction +was issued to Deity. + +"O Lord, you make this man behave; he don't know how, no way, shape, or +manner. Amen! + +"_Now!_" Pippin rose, towering seven feet high, Mr. Johnson told the +scandalized landlady next day. "Let me hear another word out of you!" + +Mr. Johnson remaining discreetly silent, Pippin, after glaring at him a +minute, dropped his fiery crest. + +"Good-night, brother!" he said meekly. "I'm sorry if I spoke harsh. +Pleasant dreams to you!" + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +THE PERPLEXITIES OF PIPPIN + + +"I don't know _what_ to do with Mary!" said Mrs. Aymer. "I am really +distracted about her, Larry. I don't think she's _fit_ to go with you +to-morrow, yet I don't believe anything can stop her." + +"She certainly looks ill." The chaplain glanced thoughtfully toward the +pantry door, as if he expected to see through it. "Have you had any talk +with her, Lucy?" + +"I've tried, but I had to do all the talking. She just pulls this little +wooden smile--it's just that, Lawrence! it's as if she pulled a string +and twitched the corners of her mouth up; there is no smile in her eyes. +It's _tragic_! And all she will say is, 'It is my duty to go to my +father; I must go, because it is my duty!' over and over; in fact--" +with a petulant outburst--"I seem to have lost my Mary, and got a very +beautiful talking doll in exchange--Only dolls _do_ look cheerful," she +added, "and they don't cry their eyes out all night." + +"Have you heard her crying?" asked John Aymer. + +"Heard her? No! But I see her in the morning, don't I? _I_ am not an +_owl_, my dear John!" + +"No, my love, certainly not!" + +The two men gazed meditatively at each other over their pipes. ("Since +my husband must either smoke or fidget," Mrs. Aymer was wont to say, "I +prefer to have him smoke; and there shall be no room in my house that +he is obliged to fidget in.") But the pipes did not make for peace as +usual; the atmosphere of the rose-shaded room was anxious and troubled, +reflecting the mood of its little ruler. However things might be with +Mary-in-the-kitchen, Lucy-in-the-parlor was not herself this evening. +She would knit diligently for a few minutes, then spring up to turn down +the lamp, to poke the fire, to straighten an already straight window +blind, then plunge at her knitting again, and make the needles fly at a +bewildering rate. + +"It certainly is an extremely rum start!" said John Aymer thoughtfully. +"Makes one feel as if one were living behind the scenes at the ----," he +named a popular theatre. + +"John Aymer!" The knitting was dropped, and two indignant sapphires +burned on the guilty husband. "I don't _like_ to think you are +heartless, John," said Lucy; "but sometimes there seems nothing else +_to_ think. To _make game_ of a poor girl's misery! Men are--" + +"Not at all, my love, not at all! I am as sorry as sorry can be, and you +know it. But none the less I cannot help feeling as if I were in a +movie. Here are all the materials, black-hearted ruffian, lovely maiden, +gallant youth--if that wasn't a movie scene the other night, I never saw +one, that's all!-- By the way, Larry, what of the gallant youth? How has +pet-lamb Pippin been to-day? Or haven't you seen him?" + +"Oh, yes, I have seen him. I don't believe he cried last night, but he +doesn't look as if he'd slept much for several nights. The boy is as +thoroughly upset as the girl." The chaplain stooped to pick up a coal +from the hearth; then went on slowly. "On the one hand he is all joy at +having found Mary; on the other he is all despair because he thinks he +has offended her in some way. How about that, Lucy? They have been good +friends up to yesterday, have they?" He looked inquiringly at his +sister. + +"_Good friends!_" Mrs. Aymer sprang up again and moved restlessly to the +fire. + +"_Hold on!_" her husband grasped her skirt and drew her resolutely back. +"My child, if you put the Cape Cod fire-lighter _hot_ into the kerosene, +there will be an explosion, and we shall all be burned very painfully. +This is the fourth time I have caught you on the point of doing it; the +next time, I shall take the thing away and give it to your cousin +Selina, who has never moved quickly in her life. Now, my dear girl, sit +down, and _stay_ down for ten minutes." + +Mrs. Aymer subsided in temporary eclipse of meekness, and John Aymer +turned to his brother-in-law, who also had sprung forward when he saw +the glowing sponge approaching the brass pot. + +"All right, Lar! She _will_ do it, but I am generally on the lookout. +You ask if Mary and Pippin have been good friends. Lawrence, I have been +conscious for the last two weeks that while Lucy's body has had many +occupations, her mind has done little except marry these two young +people, establish them in a shed-apartment-elect (to be furnished, I +gather, with all our belongings except those actually in use), and +assist in bringing up their family. I feel quite the godfather already, +I assure you!" + +"Dear me, sirs!" the chaplain blew smoke rings and watched them with a +critical eye. "I had no idea it had gone as far as that!" + +"It hasn't, except in Lucy's fertile brain. Possibly neither of them +has thought of it, though I admit the possibility to be highly +improbable, at least on the boy's side. If I were in his place--" + +Here Mrs. Aymer was discovered to be weeping quietly and drying her eyes +with her knitting, to their imminent peril. Both men sprang to caress +and comfort her. Her husband vowed that he would, if necessary, hale +both the potentially contracting parties to the altar and make Larry +marry them then and there. Anything, he declared, rather than have his +wife blinded by knitting needles or destroyed by fire. Incidentally, he +himself was a brute, and if his little girl cried any more, he would +touch himself off with the Cape Cod fire-lighter and have done with it. +Her brother said nothing, but took hold of her little finger and shook +it in a particular way which had meant consolation ever since he was six +and big, and Lucy was three and little. Finally, between them, they +coaxed a smile from her, and a declaration that they were dear boys and +she was a goose. Then it occurred to her that Mary might sleep better +with a hot water bottle; this cleared up matters wonderfully, and she +bustled off quite cheerfully, promising John that she would have one +herself, and giving Larry a good-night hug as the best of brothers. + +The brothers-in-law exchanged an affectionate nod as the door closed +behind the little woman they both adored; a nod which said many things, +all kind and patient and loving. They smoked in silence for ten minutes, +then one asked the other where he got his boots; the other replied, and +they talked boots with absent-minded ardor for ten minutes more, then +fell silent again. + +"_But_," John Aymer exploded suddenly, "it _is_, as I said, an extremely +rum start. I suppose you feel perfectly sure of your pet lamb, Lar?" + +"Perfectly--humanly speaking!" + +"Then that's all right. The fellow is so infernally attractive--you +understand! If I thought he would make Mary unhappy, or--or +anything--I'd wring his neck for him, see?" + +The chaplain nodded gravely. "I see! you won't have to wring his neck, +Jack." + +"Then that's all right," repeated John Aymer. "Glad of it! He certainly +is as taking a scamp as ever I saw. Is he--has he any family? Nice +comfortable mother or sister who would be good to Mary, eh?" + +Lawrence Hadley shook his head; a slow, humorous smile curled the +corners of his mouth. He heard Pippin's voice, eager, imploring. "You +won't tell any one, will you, Elder? About Pa and Ma, I mean. Honest, +sir, they've ben more help to me than lots of real folks I've seen. What +I mean--well, I've seen folks act real ugly, you know, to their own +flesh and blood; speak up real hateful, the way you wouldn't speak, no, +nor I wouldn't, to a houn' dog! But these folks of mine, so good +and--and so--well, kind of holy is what I mean, and yet ready to joke +and laugh any time--gorry to 'Liza! Elder, I do wish you could _see_ Ma +and Pa, I do so!" + +"No, John," said the chaplain, "I'm afraid--I have always understood +that Pippin was an orphan." + +The friendly silence fell again, and the chaplain's thoughts reverted to +his conversation with Pippin that morning. What a child the boy was! How +almost incredible--if the things of God could ever be incredible, mused +the chaplain--that after such a bringing-up (say, rather, dragging, +kicking, cuffing up) he should be what he was. Hadley's mind, always +with a whimsical thread running through its earnestness, recalled a +visit to an aquarium, and certain creatures of living crystal through +which such organs as they had were visible as through glass. Pippin was +like that, he thought. An Israelite without guile; the child of the +slums, the young desperado; Pippin the Kid, alias Moonlighter, alias +Jack-o'-lantern. Strange and true, and blessed! Out of the mouths of +babes--gutter babes as well as those of Christian homes! But how absurd, +how utterly unreasonable, this very crystalline quality made the boy! He +had thought that once he found the girl, all would be plain sailing. He +had actually expected Mary to start with him, hand in hand like two +children, that very morning for Cyrus Poor Farm, thirty miles away. +There was folks he knowed all along the road, dandy folks, would be +tickled to death to take them in; what say? The chaplain vetoing this +proposal decidedly, the eager light had died out of Pippin's eyes, the +anxious cloud settled again on his brow. + +"She's mad with me!" he lamented. "Green grass! She's mad with me, and I +don't know no more than the dead what I done. Why, don't you rec'lect, +Elder, she was puttyin' round there [Pippin meant "puttering"] while we +was talkin', smilin' and--and lookin' pleasant, the way she does--why, +you'd said I was welcome, wouldn't you? Sure you would! Why, sir, we was +_friends_! There's things I've told that young lady--and she 'peared to +understand, too, and to--what I mean--not be opposed to hearin' 'em--and +then all of a sudden--I tell you, Elder, I don't know what I'll do if +she stays mad with me, honest I don't." Pippin's voice broke, and he +brushed his hand across his eyes. "Have you any _i_dea why she's mad +with me, Elder?" he asked simply. + +The chaplain patted his shoulder as he would a child's. + +"No, Pippin, I have no idea. I don't even know that she is 'mad with +you.' She has had a shock, and a great deal of excitement and--and +emotion, and I don't think she is quite herself now. You must be +patient, Pippin. A young woman's feelings are very sensitive, as you +said yourself yesterday. Mary is very much upset, and she probably +feels--she is a very sensible girl, and a very intelligent one"--"You +bet she's all that!" Pippin murmured--"probably feels that as you are +connected with all this excitement and emotion, it is better for her not +to see you just now. Start along with your wheel, and Mary and I will +follow by rail. Mr. Bailey can meet us at Cyrus Centre--it's a four-mile +drive, you say? We'll be there as soon as you, Pippin, or before. Be off +with you! And cheer up!" he added with his friendly hand on the broad +shoulder that drooped as it had never drooped before since that hour +among the buttercups. "Cheer up, Pippin! 'Praise the Lord with +gladness,' you know, my son!" + +"Amen, Elder! 'And come before His presence with a song.' I will, sir! +Gimme a little start, and I will. So long, sir!" + +It was not Pippin's own flashing smile that greeted the chaplain from +the gate, as with Nipper on his back, the boy turned into the lane; but +still it was a smile, and his chin was up, and his shoulders square once +more. Yes, Pippin was all right again. But--the chaplain sank deep and +deeper into reverie--what was to become of Pippin eventually? He could +not go pirouetting across the stage of life as if it were--Hadley +glanced at his brother-in-law, and saw him also deep in thought--a +moving picture show. If he had only taken his, the chaplain's, advice +in the beginning, and let him find an opening for him in some safe, +steady business! + +As if in answer to his thoughts, John Aymer looked up suddenly. + +"How would Pet-Lamb fit into the hardware line?" he asked. "About as +well as a salmon in a lobster pot, eh? Well, we must fit him in +somewhere, Lar. I want Mary to stand by Lucy this winter, you +understand!" + +"Of course. And anyhow, Jack, the boy cannot expect to support a wife by +scissor-grinding." + +"All right!" John Aymer rose with an air of relief. "I was afraid that +you might have some idea in your visionary old noddle. Come on! Let's +have an apple and go to bed!" + +When Pippin went his way that morning, with many a wistful backward +glance at the friendly house and yard where now no blue shape of grace +and youth smiled on him, he did not start at once for Cyrus Poor Farm. +There was a visit to make first. He plodded along the streets, looking +neither to right nor to left, his bell tinkling in vain (two or three +housewives waved their aprons and called to him, but he did not hear +them) until he came to the now familiar brick wall and the wrought-iron +gate opening on the cheerful courtyard. He was a frequent visitor now at +the Home; he knew every child intimately, and had won every adult heart, +even that of Mrs. Faulkner, who declared that there was certainly no +resisting him and that she had given up trying. Mrs. Appleby's heart had +been his from the start, as we have seen, and it was she he had come to +see, for the children, he knew, would be at school. Still, as a matter +of habit he glanced at the upper windows, and was rewarded by the sight +of a forlorn little freckled face which lighted into ecstasy at sight of +him. + +"Gee!" said Pippin. "Now wouldn't that--" + +He waved his cap to the little prisoner, and a lively sign dialogue +ensued. Had Jim, Pippin asked with expressive action of his hands, run +away again and got behind the bars? Vehement denial, the red head shaken +till it seemed in danger of coming off. Been cutting up, then, and got +spanked good and hard and sent to quod? This also was rendered with +dramatic effect, was also denied, with some show of indignation. Then +what the didoes was the matter? Pippin spread his arms abroad with +uplifted brows. For reply the window was pushed up behind the nursery +bars, and a hoarse little voice croaked "Tonsilitis! Been abed--" Here +the speaker was withdrawn swiftly from behind, and the window closed +again. Mrs. Appleby looked down and nodded to Pippin, intimating that +she would be down directly; then turned to the child, with admonition in +every line of her firm, substantial figure. + +Soon she came, with friendly hand extended; soon Pippin was sitting +opposite her in the mission-furnished parlor, pouring out his artless +tale of woe and bewilderment. + +Mrs. Appleby had been expecting Mary for several days, had rather +wondered at her non-appearance. She listened round-eyed to Pippin's +account of the attempted burglary--his own part in the drama lightly +dismissed with, "I knowed the guys, and I just put a spoke in their +wheel. See?" + +"Good gracious!" she ejaculated. "Why, they might have been murdered in +their beds. Why, Pippin, your being there was simply providential." + +Mrs. Appleby, like many another excellent person, had distinctly biassed +views as to the part played by Providence in human affairs; not so +Pippin, otherwise enlightened by his Elder. + +"I view things generally in that light!" he said gravely. "All is, +there's times when I can't understand 'em. Lemme tell you!" + +He told her, with kindling eyes, of his discovery of the astonishing +fact that Mary Flower was May Blossom. Yes, she knew that, Mrs. Appleby +said demurely. She did? _She did?_ Then why--Pippin stared at her a +moment in blank bewilderment; then he smote his hand on his knee. That +was right! He saw, he understood. That was why she wanted the letter +from Elder Hadley; that was right! She couldn't have done no other way, +she sure couldn't. And now, here was the Elder right in town here, and +she could see him and make all the inquiries she-- + +But now the mobile face darkened, and the wail broke out. + +"Mrs. Appleby, she's mad with me! Yes, ma'am, she is so! She won't look +at me, nor yet hardly speak to me, excep' kind of cool and polite, like +you'd speak to a stranger. Why--" he sprang up and paced the room, +light-foot, absorbed, lifting his chin a little, unconsciously, as he +reached either wall of the room, like a woodland creature in a cage. +"Why, Mrs. Appleby, I respect that young lady more than anybody in the +world. We was friends, I want you to understand, till this come up, real +good friends!" cried Pippin, clutching at his file and stabbing the air +with it as he paced. "Nor I don't know no more than the dead what it +_was_ come up! I never said anything anyways low to that young lady--my +tongue would ha' withered in my mouth first. It makes me wild--" + +Here he stopped, and, collecting himself with a great effort, sat down +and begged Mrs. Appleby's pardon. He would ask the Lord to help him, he +said gravely. 'Twasn't likely any one else could, and he'd no business +to be bawlin' like he was a kid. He asked Mrs. Appleby's pardon again, +and hoped she would overlook it. She, good lady, as much puzzled as he, +tried to comfort him, as the chaplain had done, with hopes that all +would come out right eventually. Mary was upset, and no wonder. This +might make a great change in her life; Pippin must have patience. + +"St. James!" Pippin's brow cleared, and he rose with his little bow +which Mrs. Appleby privately considered the most graceful motion she had +ever seen in her life. Talk of Russian dancers! "St. James! 'Let +patience have her perfect work.' That's right! James, he's real good and +searchin'; that takes holt of me. Well, ma'am, I'll wish you good day, +and thank you kindly. You have helped me, too, you sure have." + +At this moment a knock was heard, and the round-eyed pupil-teacher +entered. + +Please, ma'am, Jimmy Mather wanted to know could the--the gentleman +[Janey did not think "my Grindy Man" would be polite or proper to +repeat] come up to see him. He was flouncing about horfil, and she could +not keep him quiet. + +Mrs. Appleby hesitated. It was not usual, she said, but--the other +children were at school, and Jimmy had been very poorly; if Pippin cared +to go up for a few minutes-- + +"Sure I do! Tickled to death! Thank you, ma'am." + +Mrs. Appleby led the way through cool, clean, stone-flagged halls and +corridors to the pleasant infirmary with its yellow walls and snowy +beds. Ten beds, and only one occupied, by a freckled, tousled +quintessence of fractiousness in a blue wrapper. + +"I _won't_ behave! I _will_ kick them off!" He did. "I want my grindy +man, and I won't _ever_ behave unless he comes. I won't, I won't, I +_won't_!" + +"Dry up!" Pippin stood in the doorway, erect, with eyes of authority. +"What kind of way is this to act, I want to know? You lay down--" the +boy obeyed instantly--"and you stay layin' down till I give you leave to +set up. Now!" He nodded assurance to Mrs. Appleby, who withdrew, drawing +a reluctant Janey after her. Janey admired Pippin as much as anybody +did, and had her own thoughts about the foolishness of letting that kid +have his own way like that. + +But Mrs. Appleby did not go far, only into the sewing-room close by, +where she sat down and motioned Janey to a seat beside her. The door was +open--it would have been close with it shut--and she had left the +infirmary door on the jar. Sitting at their sewing, the two women +listened. + +No sound at first except Pippin's voice in a low admonitory murmur. Then +louder, in clear, crisp tones: "What say, kid? Goin' to try? Shake!" Two +voices now, in brisk and cheerful dialogue; then gurgles and crows of +childish delight. (What could Pippin be doing? As a matter of fact, he +was giving an exhibition of the Wig Wags, his fingers impersonating +these mystic creatures, and performing unheard-of acrobatic feats in +connection with the bedposts.) + +Then--and this was what Mrs. Appleby had been waiting and hoping for, +came the injunction: "Now sing, Grindy Man!" + +Pippin sang; and the mite of fractious quicksilver lay back on the +pillow with a happy sigh. The matron dropped her sewing, and took out +her handkerchief; she was easily moved to tears, good Mrs. Appleby. +Downstairs from the housekeeper's room, upstairs from kitchen, +dining-room, pantry, eager footsteps came stealing. Soon the whole +household was sitting on the stairs, listening, and Mrs. Appleby was +resolutely unaware of them, reflecting that some things were more +important than others, and that nobody would die if dinner _was_ a +little late. + +Sing, Pippin! Pour your heart out, and lift up the hearts of all that +hear you, sad hearts and merry, dull hearts and quick, for with them you +shall lift up your own also, till your eyes shine with their own glad +light, and you go your way, once more joyful in the Lord: + + "Fling out the life line with hand quick and strong: + Why do you tarry, why linger so long? + See! he is sinking; oh, hasten today-- + And out with the Life-Boat! Away, then, away!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +MARY BLOSSOM + + +To Pippin the last month had passed like a watch in the night; say +rather in the day, a watch on a hillside under a clear sky, with the +sound of flutes in the air. But at Cyrus Poor Farm it had been a long +month, and things had gone rather heavily. Brand, weaving baskets in his +corner, thought it one of the longest months he had ever known. There +had been many wet, cold days when the barn had been too chilly to work +in, and though he loved the big kitchen, he preferred solitude for his +work hours,--solitude, that is, enlivened by snatches of cheery talk as +Jacob Bailey came and went about his own work, by whiffs of fragrant +clover and hay, by the sunlight that lay warm upon him as he sat in the +wide doorway, by the friendly whinnying of Molly, the pretty black mare, +in her loose box close by. + +Then Flora May would come drifting in, and would sit down beside him, +and rub her smooth cheek against his, and coo and murmur like a white +pigeon. They were intimate, the blind man and the simple girl. He was +Uncle Brand, she was his little gal. They spoke little as they sat +together, but now and then he would pat her fair head and say, "We +knowed it, little gal!" and she would nestle closer and repeat, "We +knowed it!" That was all the speech they needed. + +But now Flora May seldom came to the barn; she seemed almost to avoid +him, Brand thought. Maybe it was just the bad weather; she was apt to be +moody in bad weather. But even in the house she was changed, somehow. +She used always to give him a pat or a coo when she passed him; now--but +he must not be demanding. Blind folks were apt to be demanding, he had +once been told, and had resolved no one should have cause to say it of +him. + +There were other trials, too, that month. Some tramps came, asking +shelter for the winter, pleading illness, promising work. Jacob Bailey +had taken them in, not too willingly, but feeling it his duty to do so; +and had thereby roused the indignation of all his other "boarders," +except Brand. For three days the usually cheerful house had seethed like +a witches' cauldron; then the tramps departed by night, carrying with +them such small personal property as they could lay hands on, and peace +reigned again. + +Meantime Old Man Blossom was growing weaker day by day. The poor old +body, sodden with drink and worse than drink, was nearly worn out. The +machine worked feebly; at any moment it might run down and stop. One +thing only, Mrs. Bailey thought as she watched beside the bed, kept him +alive: the longing for his child. She spent every moment she could +spare, good soul, sitting beside him, knitting in hand, ready to answer +the inevitable question when it came. He would lie for hours motionless, +apparently sleeping. Then the lids would flutter open, the hands begin +to wander and pluck at the bedclothes; the dim eyes, after rolling +vacantly, would fix themselves on her, and recognition creep into them. + +"Ain't he come yet?" + +"Not yet, Mr. Blossom. He'll be here soon." + +"You don't think--" + +"Yes, Mr. Blossom?" + +"You don't think he's slipped one over on me?" + +"I think he will come as soon as he can; that is, as soon as he finds +your daughter, you know. You don't want him to come without her, do +you?" + +"If he does--" the voice dies into a whisper, faint yet vehement. +Bending to catch his words, Lucy Bailey listens a moment, then +straightens herself with compressed lips. Mr. Blossom is consistent, and +expresses himself in his usual manner. + +Presently he finds his voice again, a whimper in it this time. "But +ain't it hard luck, lady? I ask you, lady, if it ain't hard luck that I +have to get a crook to fetch me my little gal. I ain't a con, lady! +Booze was all my trouble--that an' not havin' the stren'th to work. I +never got no longer jolt than a year. Now Pippin's a crook, born and +bred. If he slips one over on me--" The voice sinks again into a hoarse +mutter, and so lapses into silence. The face, puckered into sharp +wrinkles of anxiety, seems to flatten and smooth itself till it lies +like an old wax mask, ugly but peaceful. He will be quiet now for some +time; Mrs. Bailey settles the bedclothes tidily and steals away. + +Her faithful attendance on the dying vagrant has not been fortunate for +the other inmates; her firm gentle hand is missed everywhere in the +house. Her husband confides to her, in the quiet hour before bedtime, +that things have been kind of cuterin'. Aunt Mandy was some fractious +to-day; she made Miss Pudgkins cry at dinner, callin' her a greedy old +haddick; no way to talk to Miss Pudgkins, Lucy knew. + +Miss Pudgkins ought not to mind Aunt Mandy, Mrs. Bailey said; she knew +full well what Aunt Mandy was. Pepper grass had to grow the way it grew; +you couldn't expect it to be sweet gale, nor yet garden blooms. Yes, Mr. +Bailey expected she knew that, but still, 'twas provoking, and in the +face and eyes of the whole table. 'Twas true Miss Pudgkins had taken +Brand's dish of prune sauce and put her empty one in its place. + +"The mean old thing!" Mrs. Bailey spoke sharply, and a spark came into +her kind eyes. She could not bear to see the blind man "put upon." "Now +I am glad Aunt Mandy spoke out. I hope you took the dish right straight +away from her, Jacob!" + +Jacob looked troubled. "I couldn't do that, Lucy; women-folks, you +know!" + +"No, you couldn't. I wish I'd been there." + +"But I give Brand another dish, and filled it plumb up, so he got more +than she did after all." He looked up, and received a cheerful nod of +approval. + +"That's good. Brand likes prune sauce, and he has so few pleasures. Not +that he's anyways greedy or lick-lappin'; far from it; but he tastes +more than others do. Did he finish the two-bushel basket? He aimed to +finish it to-day." + +Jacob's brow clouded again. "He would have, but he couldn't lay his hand +on his splints, and I was out of the way, so he had to wait a +considerable time." + +"Where was Flora May? Didn't she help him? I told her be sure to!" + +"That was the trouble!" Jacob spoke reluctantly. "Flora May had an odd +spell, and she--fact is, she took and carried the splints up chamber, +and run out and hid in the haymow till dinner." + +"She did! now, Jacob! Why didn't you call me? You can't cope with Flora +May in her odd spells, nor it isn't right you should. Why didn't you +call me?" + +"I set out to, Lucy. I came to the door to speak to you, but I heard the +Old Man mournin' and I--it didn't appear as if I could go in just then." + +"No, you couldn't!" said his wife again. Then she sighed. "I don't +hardly know what to do with Flora May," she said. "She's havin' those +odd spells right along, sometimes two or three a week. She's been havin' +'em ever since--Jacob--" She looked around and lowered her voice. "I +don't hardly know about his comin' back here--to stay any time, that's +to say." + +Jacob Bailey also glanced around apprehensively and spoke almost in a +whisper. "You mean--Pippin?" + +"Hush! Yes! She hasn't been the same girl since he was here. I'm scared +for her, Jacob." + +"Lucy, Pippin is as good as gold. There couldn't no father nor brother +have handled her better than what he did that day." + +"Hush! What was that?" She went quietly to the door that led to the back +stairs, and opened it with a quick, noiseless motion. In the dusk of the +stairway a board creaked, something white glimmered. "Who's there?" No +answer. "Flora May, is that you? Answer when I speak to you!" + +The voice was gentle, but compelling; the answer came, half sullen, half +frightened. "I want a drink of water, Aunt Lucy." + +"You go right back to bed, Flora May! I'll bring you a drink when I come +up. Let me hear your door shut now!" She waited till a door closed +upstairs; then latching the one she held in her hand, beckoned her +husband, and stole to the other side of the room. "Like as not she'll +be down again!" she whispered. "I've caught her listenin' here and there +any time this past week. She thinks she'll hear when he's comin', or +hear about him anyway. Jacob--whisper! I know Pippin's good; it isn't +him I'm afraid of. It's her. It isn't a father that poor thing wants, +nor yet a brother!" + +"Flora May's a good girl!" Jacob spoke as if in defense of the girl who +so short a time ago had been his little pet, his pretty kitten-like +child plaything. "She's always been a good innocent girl, Lucy." + +"Oh, good!" Lucy Bailey, sixty years old, New England born and bred, +made an almost impatient gesture. "Who's to say good or bad, when folks +haven't their reason? I tell you there's things workin' inside that poor +child that knows nothing about good or bad, things that's stronger than +her. I hate to say it, but she ought not to be here any longer, Jacob." + +"Now, Lucy!" + +"There ought to be places for such as her--there is, I b'lieve, if we +but knew--places where they can be kep' and cared for and learned all +they can learn. Yes, I know we've done our best--" in answer to a murmur +of protest--"but our best ain't good enough, that's all. There! We must +go to bed, father; 'tis late, and I promised that child a drink of +water. Poor lamb! She was so happy till this come up! Let Rover in, will +you? He's scratchin' all that nice new paint off the door. I'll put +kitty down cellar. Here, kitty, kitty! The stove is all right, father; +you lock up and come right up to bed, won't you? You've had a tirin' day +with all them potatoes to dig." + +She was tired too, good Lucy Bailey! Every part of her strong body +seemed to ache; yet she lay awake long after Jacob's deep breathing +gave her comfortable assurance of his sleeping. It did seem strange, how +their quiet life was all jolted up, she thought, as she lay staring at +the elm shadows that tossed in the moonlight. So long it had run on a +level, as you might say, day by day, month by month, year by year. For +her the years had been marked chiefly by the growth of the two young +creatures, her nephew and the "simple" girl who had been a town charge +from early childhood. Such a contrast! Myron so bright and quick; how +his eyes would light up when he laughed! And poor Flora May; well! the +Lord knew best! And now Myron was doing so well over at Kingdom, and so +happy! Those nice Baxters! she must certainly ask them over to spend the +day! If only they didn't spoil her boy, making of him so! But he was +gone from Cyrus Poor Farm whose light he had been; and now came this old +man whom Mrs. Bailey could not like, try as she might, sorry as she was +for him; and then came Pippin, like a wandering flame, setting fire--so +to say--where before was just straw or like that. + +Sleep came at last, deep and sweet; from the quiet chamber it seemed to +pass through the old house, laying a quiet hand on every living thing. +The dog slept beside the stove, the cat in her cushioned basket in the +cellar, the bird on his swinging perch; only in the attic chamber Flora +May lay broad awake, staring through the dark, tossing to and fro on her +narrow bed. + + * * * * * + +Mary Blossom started on her journey with a heavy heart. Duty might lead +her by the hand, but could not lighten her burden. She had slept ill for +the past few nights, had eaten little; her head ached, and even Mr. +Hadley's cheerful talk could hardly bring a smile to her lips. Once in +the train, however, the swift motion, the rushing panorama before her +eyes, roused and interested her in spite of herself. The chaplain noted +with delight her brightening eyes, and the faint color that crept into +her pale cheek. Thank God, she was young, and joy was always tagging +after youth, trying to keep hold of her hand, even when things pushed in +between. + +It was the first time she had ever gone far from the city. The yearly +excursion of the Home children had been to a grove not ten miles off; +since she grew up and went to work there had been no time to think about +going "any place else," as Mary would have expressed it. She watched +with delight as the swift miles sped by, and responded eagerly when the +chaplain pointed out this or that object of interest. That was Tankard +Mountain, was it? My! wasn't it high? Mary had never seen a real +mountain before. (She called it "mounting," but then so did Pippin; some +people will, strive as you may to teach them otherwise.) And that was +Blue Lake? Mary wanted to know! Well, it surely _was_ blue, wasn't it? +Did Mr. Hadley know what _made_ water blue like that? 'Twas the sky +reflected in it? He didn't say so! Well, creation was curious, wasn't +it? + +Lawrence Hadley enjoyed the journey, too; the familiar landscape took on +fresh beauty for him, and he began to recall bits of half-forgotten +legend and tale to adorn it. "You see that steep rock, Mary, overhanging +the lake? There, where the big pine is? They say an Indian maiden threw +herself from that rock, long ago, into the lake, and was drowned. Her +lover was false to her, I believe, poor thing!" + +"Poor thing!" The shadow darkened again over the girl's face, and she +looked earnestly at the dark cliff. "But I wouldn't have given him that +satisfaction. I'd never have let on that I cared--that much!" + +She spoke low, but with suppressed energy. Hadley glanced at her; seemed +about to speak, but checked himself, and presently called her attention +to another object. They were still skirting Blue Lake, a ten-mile +stretch of dimpling, crinkling sapphire. + +"That little pile of rocks is Lone Man Island. It got its name from a +hermit who lived there twenty-five years and never spoke to a soul in +all that time but just once." + +"My! he was a caution! What did he say, sir, the time he did speak? It +ought to be worth hearing." + +The chaplain laughed. "The story is, Mary, that his wife talked so much +he couldn't stand it, and ran away. His house--it's gone now--stood on +the shore, just opposite the island. He took the boat so she couldn't +come out after him, but every day, they say, for a long time, she would +stand on the shore and scream to him, till her voice was gone, telling +him to come back. He would sit on a stone by the water's edge, rocking +back and forth, rubbing his knees and never saying a word. When this had +gone on for a year, more or less, the minister in the village over +yonder--" he pointed to where a white spire twinkled among the +trees--"thought it was his duty to interfere; so he came with his boat, +and took the woman over to the island." + +He paused and his eyes twinkled. + +"Well, sir?" Mary's face was bright with eager interest. "It was then +that he spoke? He freed his mind, I suppose?" + +"She spoke first, and then the minister spoke. They both had a good deal +to say, I have been told. And while they were talking, Jotham +Wildgoose--yes, that was his actual name--sat on his stone, rocking +back and forth, rubbing his hands on his knees, saying never a word. At +last, when both of them were out of breath and out of patience, the old +man spoke. 'Get out!' he said; and never said another word as long as he +lived." + +"The _i_dea! Why, I never heard of such a thing, Mr. Hadley. Why, how +did he live? How did he do his marketing?" The practical mind of the +Scientific General pounced at once on the main issue. Man need not talk, +but he must eat. + +"He lived mostly on fish; he had his boat, you see, and he was a good +fisherman. When he wanted other supplies, he took a string of fish to +the nearest village and got what he wanted in exchange. He was very +clever in making signs; he could write, too. Yes, I believe Jotham +Wildgoose lived to a good old age, and counted himself a fortunate man." + +"And what became of his wife?" + +"Poor thing! They say she scolded herself to death. She was a sad shrew, +from all accounts. Of course, I am not excusing Jotham," he added +hastily; "I am only explaining." + +Mary pondered. "'Tis a queer story!" she said at last. "'Twas strange he +wouldn't listen to the minister, though. You'd thought he would!" + +The chaplain's eyes twinkled. + +"They are taken that way sometimes!" he said. + +"I'll bet he'd have minded if _you_ had told him to go home!" Mary spoke +with conviction, but the chaplain shook his head. + +"Don't be too sure, Mary! Did you ever hear about Mr. Bourne and his +wife? No, how should you! It was an old song when my father was a boy. +Listen, now! + + "Mr. Bourne and his wife + One evening had a strife. + He wanted bread and butter with his tea, + But she swore she'd rule the roast + And she'd have a piece of toast, + So to loggerheads with him went she, she, she, + So to loggerheads with him went she. + + "Now there was a Mr. Moore + Lived on the second floor, + A man very strong in the wrist. + He overheard the splutter + About toast and bread and butter + And he knocked down Mr. Bourne with his fist, fist, fist, + And he knocked down Mr. Bourne with his fist. + + "Quoth Moore, 'By my life, + You shall not beat your wife. + It is both a sin and disgrace.' + 'You fool,' said Mrs. Bourne, + ''Tis no business of yourn!' + And she dashed a cup of tea in his face, face, face, + And she dashed a cup of tea in his face. + + "Quoth poor Mr. Moore, + As he sneaked to the door, + 'I'm clearly an ass without brains. + For, when married folks are flouting, + If a stranger pokes his snout in. + He is sure to get it tweaked for his pains, pains, pains, + He is sure to get it tweaked for his pains.'" + +"And that is a pretty accurate statement of the case, I believe!" said +the chaplain. "But here we are at Cyrus, my dear, and there, from +Pippin's description, is Jacob Bailey himself waiting for us." + +Mary shrank, and drew in her breath with a sob. The journey, the cheery +talk, had dulled for the time the pain at her heart, the suffocating +dread of what was before her; now both awoke and clutched at her. She +clung to the chaplain's arm, trembling and sobbing, dry-eyed. + +"I'm afraid!" she said. "I'm afraid!" + +"Yes!" said Lawrence Hadley. "Yes, you are afraid, Mary, but that does +not signify. What signifies is that you are bringing light into a dark +place. Light, and warmth, and joy. Be thankful, my child; be thankful!" + +He led her forward, and Jacob Bailey did the rest. His hearty, "Well! +well! Here's the folks I'm downright glad to see," restored Mary's +balance in an instant. "Elder Hadley, I presume?" he went on. "And this +is Miss Blossom? Well, I _am_ pleased to meet you! Step right this way, +the team's waitin'." + + * * * * * + +It was dusk when they drove up to the door of Cyrus Poor Farm. Mary was +stiff after the four-mile drive--she was not used to driving--and even a +little chilly; at least, she was trembling, though the evening was mild. +The cheerful rays that streamed from the opening door struck warm to her +heart which was still throbbing painfully. She could not speak, could +only return the warm pressure of Mr. Hadley's hand as he helped her to +alight. Jacob Bailey held the other little cold hand and led her +forward. + +"This way!" he said heartily. "Here she is, Lucy. Make you 'quainted +with m' wife, Miss Blossom. Reverend Mr. Hadley, make you 'quainted with +Mis' Bailey. Walk in! walk in! I expect they're famished with hunger, +Lucy; supper ready, hey?" + +Ever since word had come that morning of the impending arrival, +curiosity had run rampant through the house. Miss Mandy Whetstone's nose +had been pressed against the window glass so often that Mr. Wisk (he was +the fat old gentleman with the hoarse voice; his friends called him +Whiskey, for reasons best known to themselves) asked her if she wasn't +afraid of wearin' a hole in the glass. Miss Mandy, resenting this, +replied that at least she hadn't been out the gate seventeen times--Mr. +Wisk needn't say a word, she had counted!--to look down the road to see +if they was any one coming. _She_ had uses for her time, let it be with +others as it might. Miss Lucilla Pudgkins, anxiously forecasting, +presumed likely they would bring good appetites with them, traveling all +the ways from the city. She took occasion, when the table was set for +supper, to count the doughnuts on the plate, and with prudent +forethought, Mrs. Bailey's back being turned, slipped two plump ones +into a drawer of the table conveniently near her seat. + +Now they were actually here, and the inmates took their fill of staring, +open-eyed and unashamed; all except Brand in his corner, polishing a +basket handle, and Flora May, rocking in her chair, crooning listlessly +to the cat in her lap. + +Pale and weary though she was, Mary's beauty shone in the doorway like a +lamp, as Pippin would have said--poor Pippin, who was not there to see. +Mr. Wisk rose to his feet and struck an attitude of respectful +admiration; the two elderly women who had been plain all their lives +uttered little whimpering moans of surprise. "What right has the +daughter of that horrid old tramp to look like this?" they seemed to +ask. + +"I expect she's stuck-up!" whispered Aunt Mandy to Miss Pudgkins. "Look +at that hat!" + +It was the simplest possible hat, but it had an air, as all Mary's hats +had. She trimmed them herself, and I believe the ribbons curved into +pretty shapes for pure pleasure when she patted them. + +Mrs. Bailey took no note of the hat; she looked straight into Mary's +eyes, as clear and honest as her own, and answered hastily the unspoken +question in them. + +"Yes, he's livin', my dear, though feeble. I'm _real_ glad you've come!" + +"Thank you! Oh, thank you! So am I!" + +The words came from her lips unbidden, and the girl marveled even as she +spoke them. She _was_ glad! What did it mean? + +"She'd better have her supper before she goes in, Lucy," said hospitable +Jacob, "seein' it's all ready, and she come so far!" + +But his wife, still holding Mary's hand, shook her head, again in +response to a mute appeal. "No, Jacob! She's goin' right in. I'll take +her in a cup o' tea and a mite of something, and she can eat while she's +sittin' there. This way, dearie!" + +The door closed, and the inmates drew a long breath; it was as if the +drop curtain had descended between the acts of a drama. It was cruel to +shut them off from what was going on in that other room. Miss Whetstone +even discovered that she had left her pocket handkerchief up chamber, +and had her hand on the door when Mrs. Bailey, returning, intervened +with the offer of a spandy clean one just ironed, and a bland but firm +gesture toward the table. + +"We'll set right down, if you please!" said the mistress of Cyrus Poor +Farm. "Reverend Mr. Hadley, will you ask a blessin'?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +THE OLD MAN + + +The chaplain was getting uneasy. His time was up, he ought to get back +to Shoreham that night, and there was no sign of Pippin. Of course he +could go back without seeing him, but--but he _wanted_ to see the boy. +Lawrence Hadley was at heart as romantic as his sister, and had built +his own modest air castle for Pippin and Mary. There was a +misunderstanding between them; he might be able to clear it up if he +could have a good talk with them both. Well, there was an afternoon +train; he would get back late, but still-- + +So the good man spent the morning at Cyrus Poor Farm, and enjoyed +himself extremely. He had an interview with Mr. Blossom, a brief one. +The old man was consistent; spiritual matters did not interest him in +the least. All he cared for was the sight of Mary in her blue dress and +white apron; he brushed the chaplain away with a feeble but definite, +"Sky pilot? Nix! Lemme 'lone!" Hadley, wise and kind, said a few cheery +words, nodded to Mary, and went away. But for the other inmates that +morning was marked with a white stone. He talked with each one; better +still, he listened to each one, not plucking out the heart of his +mystery but recognizing it with a friendly and appreciative nod and +leaving it where it was. He sympathized with every individual ache in +Miss Pudgkins' j'ints, prescribed hot water and red pepper for her +dyspepsy, and promised a bottle of his favorite liniment. He heard all +about the Whetstones and the Flints (Aunt Mandy's mother was a Flint, +and _her_ mother was a Cattermole; he probably knew what the Cattermoles +were), he heard the number of rooms in the Whetstone homestead, and the +cost of the Brussels carpet laid down at the time of Aunt Mandy's Aunt +Petunia's wedding. She married a traveling man, and had _everything_. +All this with much bridling, and drawing down of an upper lip already +sufficiently long. Hadley reflected that this poor soul could never have +been anything but a fright, and his manner grew even kindlier. + +He received the husky confidences of Mr. Wisk, who assured him, as +between man and man, that this was no place for a gen'leman to stay any +len'th of time. Good people in their way, good people, they meant well; +but not, you understand, what a gen'leman was accustomed to. He, Mr. +Wisk, was just waiting till his folks sent for him out West, that was +all. Mr. Hadley didn't happen to have a drop of anything about him? A +gen'leman was used to a drop after breakfast, and it came hard--all +right! all right! No offense! + +All this the chaplain took with cheerful friendliness; it was all in the +day's work, all interesting; everything was interesting. But the talk he +really enjoyed was one with Jacob Bailey and Brand, the blind man. They +sat in the barn doorway, wide and sunny; Brand on his stool, finishing +his two-bushel basket; Hadley on an upturned bucket beside him; Bailey +leaning against the door jamb. They talked of stock and crops, of seeds +and basketry and butter. Then some one said, "Pippin," and the other +things ceased to exist. First, Jacob Bailey must tell his story, of how +he had seen that young feller steppin' out along the road, who but he! +steppin' out, sir, and talkin' nineteen to the dozen, all alone by +himself; of their making acquaintance, and all it had led to. "Brand is +like one of the fam'ly! I've but few secrets from Brand. Pippin saved my +boy, sir; my wife's nevy, that's been a son to us both, and was goin' +astray. Pippin saved him! Lemme tell you!" He told; the chaplain +listened with kindling eyes, and then in his turn told of Pippin's life +in the prison, of his influence over this man and that, of the help he +had been as a trusty this past year, of how he had been missed. + +"Why, actually, the place seems darker without him!" + +The blind man, who had been listening intently, spoke for the first +time. + +"Yes!" he said slowly. "He is like light!" + +The others turned to him. + +"How's that, Brand?" asked Bailey, kindly. + +"I have never seen light," said the man who was born blind, "but when +this young man comes in, he brings something that seems to me like what +light must be. 'Tis warm, but more than that; 'tis--" he shook his head. +"I cannot put it into words!" he said. "I have never seen light!" + +"You are right, sir!" the chaplain spoke with conviction. "You have +described it exactly. Pippin is one of the light-bringers. They are a +class by themselves, and--to judge by my own experience--Pippin is in a +sub-class by himself. But, Mr. Bailey, this light must be focused; to do +all it can do, all it is meant to do, it must burn steadily; must be a +trimmed lamp, not a wandering flame. Do you take me?" + +Bailey leaned forward, almost stammering in his eagerness. + +"That's right! That's right!" he cried. "That's what I've been wantin' +to say! That's what I want to go over with you, before he comes, Mr. +Hadley. I've been itchin' to, ever since you come. Here's the way it +looks to me!" + +The other two men bent toward him; the talk went on in low, earnest +tones. The sun poured in at the wide barn door; the hens and chickens +clucked and scratched in the golden straw; from her loose box Polly, the +black mare, whinnied a request for sugar. Past the farmyard gate went +the road, a white, dusty ribbon stretching far into the distance; but +look and listen as they might, the three men caught no glimpse of a gay +figure swinging along, a wheel at its back, a song on its lips. + +Mary was doing her duty, thoroughly and faithfully, as she did all +things. The old man had been well taken care of before she came; the +little room had been neat as wax, the old rag and tatter of humanity had +been kept clean and wholesome as might be; but Mrs. Bailey had no time +for the little touches, the scientific generalities, so to speak, that +appeared wherever Mary went. The little trays, by whose daintiness gruel +was made to appear a feast for sybarites; the tidy screen, fashioned +from a clotheshorse and a piece of cheesecloth; the glass of flowers on +the light-stand by the bed: all these said, "Mary-in-the-kitchen," as +plain as things can speak; and Mary, sad and steadfast, found +satisfaction in them. But Old Man Blossom cared for none of these +things; dirt was good enough for him, he said, he was made of it, +anyways; let Mary stop wieldin' that duster and set down by him, she'd +been bustlin' the entire mornin'; he wanted to look at her. Mary sat +down patiently, and took out her tatting--but the nerveless hand groped +and groped till it touched hers, and clutched and held it. Then he lay +quiet, gazing his fill, asking nothing more of earth or Heaven; and +Mary sat patiently, seeing her duty plain, doing it thoroughly. + +Loving it? No! She would not lie to herself. Her flesh would cringe and +shrink at the touch of that other flesh, flaccid, lifeless, yet clinging +so close it seemed to be sucking her clean young strength as a leech +sucks blood. The visions would come, try as she might to banish them; +visions of the old, dreadful days, of this face, now so peaceful on the +pillow, purple and sodden, with glazed eyes and hanging mouth; of her +mother, with the watchful terror in her eyes; mingled with these +visions, inseparable from them, the smell of liquor and musty straw. + +Then, as she fought with herself, striving to drive away the sight and +the smell, lo! all would change. She would see a dark face glowing with +a warmth of tenderness and compassion which--she told herself--her cold +heart could never know. + +"Poor old mutt!" said the voice that was like a golden bell. "He's on +the blink, you see, and he wants his kid. Wouldn't that give you a pain? +Honest, now!" + +Then Mary would bend over the bed in an agony of self-reproach. + +"Father, are you easier? Father, would you like a drink? Let me lift +your head--so!" + +And through it all, something at the back of her brain knew that along +the white ribbon of road a figure was striding, lithe, alert, a wheel at +its back and a song on its lips. Yes, a song! All would come right, it +couldn't help but. The Lord was Pippin's shepherd, e'en as He was +Mary's. He would make her see, make her understand. Glory be! + +"Dinner's ready, Mary! Can you come?" Mrs. Bailey, opening the door +softly, spoke under her breath, with a glance at the still figure in the +bed, at the hand clutching Mary's with feeble, clinging grasp. Mary +nodded and her lips shaped the words, + +"Presently! He's dropping off asleep." + +Five minutes passed; ten minutes. At last the fingers loosed their hold, +the eyes closed, the lines faded, and the ugly old wax mask lay still on +the pillow. + +Quietly Mary rose, her soft dress making no sound. Quietly she stole to +the door, quietly opened it, so quietly that no one saw or heard her, +for at that moment another door was flung wide open from outside, and a +gay "Hello! hello! hello!" brought every one to their feet. Pippin stood +in the doorway, laughing, glowing, his wheel at his back; in his arms--a +child--a little, dark, bright-eyed child, who clung to him and gazed +wide-eyed at the strange faces, for all were clustering about him now +with greetings and questions. + +"Where have you been, Pippin? We've been looking for you all day. How +are you? What you been doing? Whose child is that?" + +"Easy, folks, easy!" laughed Pippin. "You're scaring the kiddy out of +his boots--if he had any!" with a glance at the brown toes that were +curling frantically round him. "Mis' Bailey, you come--" + +"Whose child is it?" asked Lucy Bailey again, as she came forward. + +"Well!" Pippin laughed again, as he tried to unwind the clinging brown +arms from his neck. His face was alight, there was a ring of triumph in +his voice. "He calls me Daddy. What do you know about that? I expect +he's mine, ain't he?" + +Mary! Mary! Stop! Wait and listen! This child is six years old, and +Pippin two and twenty. Use the reason on which you pride yourself! + +But Mary is gone, closing the door softly. Gone to fling herself on her +knees beside the dying reprobate, to tell him--silently, be sure! His +sleep must not be broken--tell him over and over that he is all she has +in the world, that she is a wicked, wicked girl; that she will try to +love him; she will, she will! + +"Mother! mother! I will try!" + +No one sees; no one hears. + +Pippin, after a wistful glance round the room, sat down at the table and +tucked the child comfortably away under his left arm. + +"Set down, please, everybody!" he said. "I'm right sorry I disturbed you +all. Seemed so good to get here! No, Mis' Bailey, full as much obliged, +seein' he holds so to me, I'll keep him right here. If you'd pass me +some bread and milk; he can eat by himself," proudly; "can't you, old +sport? There now! Fall afoul of that, what say? Elder, I am proper glad +to see you, I sure am. I was scared to death you'd got out of patience +and gone. Mary--Miss Blossom--well? The Old Man--she got here in time?" + +Reassured on this point, he drew a long sigh of relief. "That's good! +That's good! I kep' on thinkin' and thinkin', what if she come too late? +She comin' in soon?" + +"Pretty soon, Pippin; he can't bear to have her out of his sight, so +she's waiting till he drops asleep. If you don't tell us about that +child, Mrs. Bailey won't give you a morsel to eat, will you, Mrs. +Bailey? And it's the best corned beef hash you ever tasted." + +Pippin threw back his head and laughed again, the gay, triumphant laugh +that rang through the kitchen. + +"Got you all guessin', ain't I? Now I'll tell you all about it. +Yesterday I was slammin' along the ro'd--it's been a long trip, twice as +long as gettin' there, 'cause I didn't stop any place excep' I had +to--slammin' along to beat the band, when I heard a kid hollerin', +hollerin' like he was hurt. Come round the corner, and there--green +grass! there was a big Dago guy with an organ, and he was layin' into +this kid. Layin' into him, you understand, with a stick--little kid like +this! Wouldn't that give--Well! I guess I went sort of dotty. I--well, +you'll excuse me, ladies! I done what appeared the right dope--in that +case, you understand. I give him his, in good shape! And then I dumped +his organ atop of him, and took the kid and _e_-loped. That's all there +is to it, really." He swept the table with a smile as confident as it +was appealing. "Guess you'd all done the same, wouldn't you? The gents, +I would say." + +There was a doubtful murmur, which might mean assent or dissent; the +chaplain alone spoke out. + +"I don't know, Pippin! Of course you were right to stop the man's +beating the child; but if he was his father--" + +"Father nothin'! He was one of them Pat Rooneys." + +"Pat Rooneys? What do you mean?" + +"That's what they call 'em!" with an assured nod. "Never knew why they +give 'em an Irish name, for they're I-talian dagoes, every man Jack of +'em. _Buy_ kids, they do, or as good as buy 'em, and learn 'em--" + +A light broke on the chaplain. "Oh! _padrone_, you mean!" + +"That's what I say. Pat Roney or Rooney: Rooney's a more common name. +There's Rooneys every place, I guess, but they're mostly Irish. Well! +Now you see, Elder, this kiddo--lemme tell you! Say, kiddo! Where's +Puppa?" + +"Papagondaiddo!" replied the child, burrowing his head into Pippin's +shoulder. + +"Where's Mamma?" + +"Mammagondaiddo!" + +"Want to go back to Pat Rooney?" + +The boy screamed, and clung frantically round Pippin's neck, half +choking him. + +"There! You see, Elder, and folks! And you see this!" he added gravely, +pulling the ragged shirt from the little shoulders. The women cried out +in pity and horror; the men grew red and muttered. Pippin pulled the +shirt up again, gently as a woman. "I know the way that feels!" he said +simply. "I've been there!" + +There was a moment's silence, while he stroked the curly head absently. +Then Lucy Bailey, the tears running down her cheeks, held out her arms. +"Come to me, little lamb!" she said. "Come and have a nice warm bath and +some clean dry clothes! Then we'll go out and see the chickabiddies and +the ducks! Come to Auntie!" + +The child resisted at first, but after a long look at her, put his hand +in hers and trotted off obediently. Pippin drew a breath of relief, and +turned eagerly to the chaplain. + +"Glory!" he cried. "Glory to God! Wa'n't that a leadin', Elder? Honest, +now, did ever you see a leadin' made clearer? I set out to find that +little gal, allowin' soon as I'd found her, to do thus and so--You +know, to get some boys and give 'em the glad hand, help 'em up. And the +very day after I find that gal--" again that wistful glance round the +room; she was long in coming--"the _very day_, sir, the Lord sends this +kid right in my road. And--" Pippin's eyes brightened; he brought his +hand down with a resounding smack on the table--"green grass! _before_ +that, Elder!--there's another kid, all ready to come and start right in, +waitin' up there to the Orphan joint till I tip him the signal, and then +just watch him make tracks for Cyrus! I--I guess I'll have to sing, +Elder; I feel like I was bustin'. Shall we praise the Lord a spell in +song?" + +He was springing to his feet, but the chaplain, exchanging a glance with +Jacob Bailey, laid a quiet hand on his shoulder. + +"Not just yet, Pippin!" he said. "You are going too fast; we must talk +this over. Come out with me--why, you foolish fellow, you haven't eaten +any dinner!" + +"That's right! I haven't. And I'm holler as a pail, too. Trouble you for +a mite of that hash, Mr. Bailey? Gee! it _is_ good, no two ways about +that!" + +Absurd that they should all sit and watch Pippin eating his dinner, but +they did. He drew them like a magnet. Some of them lingered because it +put off a little longer the return to work; this was the case of Mr. +Wisk, who did not like to dig potatoes. Others, like Brand and Miss +Whetstone, pricked eager ears for the scraps of gay talk that alternated +with Pippin's mouthfuls; while Miss Pudgkins watched the mouthfuls +themselves with mournful interest, and while admiring the skill with +which Pippin handled his knife (his formative years had not known +forks), saw with dismay the dwindling pile of savory hash. She had +counted on a portion for her supper; she must say he was a master hand +at eating. The chaplain for his part watched the meal with mingled +amusement and impatience. It was pleasant to see a perfectly healthy +creature enjoying his food, but, with a third mountain of hash just +begun upon, and kindling glances thrown toward the custard pie and +doughnuts, what was to become of the "heart-to-hearter" which he must +have with his "wandering flame"? The moments were passing, the afternoon +train looming larger and larger. + +But the chaplain was not to take the train that afternoon. Just as +Pippin had flung himself joyously on the pie, the inner door opened, and +Mary, pale and grave, appeared. + +"Mr. Hadley," she said, "will you come? Father isn't so well!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +THE CHAPLAIN SPEAKS HIS MIND + + +When it was over; when the spirit--gladly, one must think, with never a +backward glance--left the broken shell on the pillow and went its way, +there came to Old Man Blossom his hour of dignity and importance. This +shell, after all, was what had borne his name, spoken with his voice, +thought such thoughts as were his. Washed and combed, dressed in clean +white clothes that smelt of lavender, covered with spotless drapery that +hung in as comely laps and folds as for any bishop at St. Praxed's, the +old man lay in state, and Cyrus Poor Farm, individually and +collectively, came to do him honor, and to pronounce him a "beautiful +remains." By and by this was over, too, and Mary sat alone in the little +room, her capable hands folded in her lap, with a strange, numb feeling +that was part thankfulness, part relief, and all desolation. + +To her, thus sitting, appeared Pippin in the doorway, the little Italian +boy clinging to his hand. The child (his name was Peppino, a diminutive +of Giuseppe, but Pippin thought it was Pippino and another finger post +in the path of his "leading") would hardly leave his adopted daddy for +an instant. Through the funeral service he had clung to his knees; and +when Pippin sang "Abide with me" (sang it like a surrup, Miss Whetstone +said; she like to bawled right out), the child's eyes glowed with the +delight of a Latin, and he murmured an unconscious alto. + +"Miss Mary--" Pippin spoke timidly; "I thought maybe--won't you come +outdoors a spell? It's a nice day!" + +Mary looked up with cold sweet eyes. "No, thank you!" she said. "I am +tired." + +"Is that so? Well, of course you are, all you've ben through. Would you +like me to bring Pippino in to set with you? He'd admire to, wouldn't +you, Pippino?" + +Mary's white brow contracted. "You must excuse me!" she said. "My head +aches. I don't feel like seeing company." + +And her arms were aching for the child! She wanted to hold him close, +close, to fret him with sallies of her kisses, to twine his curls round +her finger. From the tail of her eye she absorbed his beauty, the +roundness of his cheek, the deliciousness of his chin, the dark stars +that were his eyes. But she set her lips, and turned away toward the +window, and Pippin, with a murmured, "Come, kiddo! Best we go along!" +went his sad way out into the sunshine. + +Instinctively he turned his steps toward the barn, and there the +chaplain found him soon after. He was sitting on the upturned bucket, +leaning listlessly against the door jamb. Peppino was playing beside him +with a box of red and white beans, very wonderful. Now and then he held +up a handful of the pretty things with a gleeful shout; and Pippin would +nod and smile and say, "Some beans, kiddo! They sure are!" His whole air +and attitude were so wholly unlike himself that Mr. Hadley said +involuntarily, + +"What's the matter, Pippin?" + +Pippin rose and bowed, with the ghost of his own smile. + +"That you, Elder? Well, now! That was a nice funeral, wasn't it? He +couldn't ask for no nicer, not if he was the President!" He spoke with +obvious effort; his eyes, meeting the chaplain's keen glance, dropped. + +"What's the matter?" repeated Hadley. + +Pippin sat down again, the other beside him. There was a pause; then-- + +"I've lost my grip!" he said heavily. Hadley waited. The father in him, +the son in Pippin, must meet in silence, if they were to meet at all. + +Presently the words came in a rush. "I've lost my grip; things has got +away from me. I don't know what I done--" his eyes, dark with pain and +trouble, roved hither and thither, as if seeking enlightenment--"but I +done something I hadn't ought to. She has no use for me any more!" + +Still Hadley waited. The voice rose into a cry. "I thought," Pippin +mourned, "I thought when she come to see her Pa, and--and knew how he +sent me, and I looked for her--looked for her--I thought she'd feel +different, but she doesn't, sir; no, she doesn't. She never give me one +look to-day, just passed me by same as if I was a chair, or like that. +And--just now--I see her sittin' all alone there, and I thought--I +tried--but 'twas no good. I don't cut no ice with her, that's all there +is to it. I don't know what I'll do, Elder; I don't--know--what I'll do! +Nor that ain't all! I've lost my folks!" + +"What do you mean, Pippin?" + +"My folks: my movie folks, that I made up like I told you: Pa and Ma, +and the rest. They've gone back on me, Elder." + +"Tell me!" + +The kind hand on his shoulder, Pippin poured out his tale; how since he +first saw Mary things had begun to change, little by little, so +gradually that it was a long time before he realized it. Then it came +over him, suddenly, that all was not right, that the beloved figures +were less clear, less sharply defined than they had been. + +"They'll come when I speak to 'em, yes, and they'll answer, but it's +like I had to make up what I want 'em to say, 'stead of them wantin' to +say it themselves. I know--Elder, I expect you'll think I'm wantin' in +my mind, but--I _know_ they wa'n't real folks, but yet they was real to +me. They acted so live, and so good and lovin' and all--why, +Ma--why--what'll I do without Ma?" He broke off and stared into vacancy. +"I see her now, but she's different: more like a shadow, and when I look +at her, she changes into--you know what she changes into, Elder?" + +"Yes, Pippin, I think I do!" + +"She changes into Mary!" Pippin sprang up, and paced the barn with eager +steps, throwing up his chin at every turn. "And Pa similar. And the +little gal--but I never see her so plain, some ways, I never--what I +mean--she always appeared like she was some person else, and now I know +it was little May, little May Blossom!" He choked. The child, dropping +his beans, came and pulled at him with eager hands. + +"Daddi Pippin, what a matter, Daddi?" + +Pippin looked down, and patted the brown head tenderly. "Say, kiddo, you +run in and ask Mis' Bailey for a cooky and a mug of milk; what say? It's +time you had a bite!" + +The child hesitated. "And bring-a Daddi piece?" he inquired. + +"Daddy'll come in directly and get his piece. You cut along now and +wait for me in the kitchen. You can play with the kitty till I come." + +The child obeyed, only half willingly. + +"Say, isn't he a dandy kid?" Pippin turned to the chaplain with a +wistful look. "I've got him!" he said. "I've got the kiddo, and I've got +my work to do. Maybe the Lord didn't intend for me to be happy; +everybody can't be, it stands to reason." + +Mary's own phrase! The chaplain looked at his watch, and stood a moment +as if irresolute. Then--"Pippin, wait here for ten minutes, will you?" +he said. "I have to see about something. Just wait, will you?" + +"Sure!" said Pippin, wondering. + +Hadley nodded, and walked back to the house with a quick decided step, +his watch still in his hand. Glancing toward the pasture gate, he saw +Jacob Bailey approaching it, leading the Pilot colt which was, he knew, +to take him to the station. He quickened his pace still more, and, +entering the house, made his way to the room where Mary Blossom was +still sitting, her capable hands idle in her lap, her eyes turned toward +the window, seeing nothing. + +"Mary!" At the sharp, decided tone, the girl looked up with a start. The +chaplain shut the door, and stood with his back against it, watch in +hand. "Mary, you are behaving badly! Yes!"--as the color rushed over the +girl's astonished face. "I mean it! Listen to me, for I have only a few +minutes. Pippin has done you an incalculable service, incalculable! He +has shown you your duty and has made it possible for you to do it. No!" +as Mary made a movement. "You must hear me; I haven't time to hear you. +This boy, brought up in a slum cellar, trained for crime and steeped in +it, has shown himself your master and mine, in practical Christianity. +Knowing the danger, knowing that he might meet the ruffians who so +nearly killed him, as you know--" Mary winced--"he went back to the +city, because an old dying vagrant asked him to find his child. He found +that child, you know at what cost; through him, your father died happy, +the desire of his heart fulfilled. In return, you treat him like a dog! +Instead of gratitude, you give him the cold shoulder. Shame on you, Mary +Blossom! your conduct is heartless and wicked. You know Pippin loves +you. You know there is no one in the world but you--" + +He paused involuntarily, for Mary had risen and faced him, white as +marble. + +"No one but me?" she cried in a voice that shook with the cold passion +of a sword. "I don't know what you mean, Mr. Hadley. Hasn't he got his +family?" + +"His family?" repeated the chaplain. + +"His family, that I heard him tell you about; the family that wasn't +just exactly regular, but yet was as dandy as any--I haven't forgot!" +cried Mary with a sob. "Where do I come in, I should like to know? Why +doesn't he go to his dandy family?" + +The chaplain's face, that had been set as steel, broke into lines of +exquisite kindness. + +"My soul!" he said. "And I've only five minutes. Listen, my dear child! +I'm sorry I scolded you!" + +Briefly he told her of the family, of Ma and Pa, Little Gal and the +baby; how the lonely boy had fashioned them out of his great longing +heart, had warmed himself at the shadow fire of their affection. + +"Till you came!" cried the chaplain. "Till love came! Then--he has just +been telling me, poor boy!--his shadows grew cold and dim. He has lost +them; he gets nothing in return. Mary!" + +"But--" Mary pressed her hands to her head, bewildered--"the child! I +saw the child; he calls him--Daddy. I heard him say so; I heard him say, +'He is mine!'" + +"My soul!" cried Hadley again. "Where were you when he told us? The +child? A waif like himself, a lost baby whom he found on the road being +cruelly beaten by a brute of an Italian _padrone_. Pippin thrashed the +brute and took the child. What else would he do, being Pippin? Mary!" he +opened the door and spoke over his shoulder. "He is out in the barn now. +I told him to wait ten minutes. Good-by! Remember, _opportunity comes +once_!" + +But even as he left the room, there was a swift movement behind him; he +heard a sob; his hand was caught and a swift, shy kiss dropped on it. + + * * * * * + +"Ain't got any too much time to spare!" said anxious Jacob, gathering up +the reins. + +"Thank the Lord! I mean--we'll fetch it!" said the chaplain. The first +words broke unconsciously from him, for he had seen from the gate a +light figure emerge from the house and hasten toward the barn. + +"Well," said Bailey, "what d'he say when you put it to him? Saw reason, +didn't he? He would! He's real reasonable, Pippin is." + +The chaplain hung his head. "I--I forgot!" he said. "I'll come over +again next week!" + + * * * * * + +Panting, sobbing, so blinded with tears that she could hardly see her +way, Mary fled out of the house, across the wide barnyard. The turkey +cock, her terror and abomination, ruffled his feathers, spread his tail, +and advanced upon her with swelling gobbles of wrath, but she neither +saw nor heard him. There never was such a barnyard; there seemed no end +to it, and she kept stumbling, now over the puppy, gamboling to meet +her, now over the Muscovy duck that _would_ waddle directly in front of +her. At last she reached the barn, but only to pause, for she heard +voices. No! one voice, Pippin's, loud and angry, as she had never heard +it before! + +"I tell you, _beat it while your shoes are new_! I've got no use for +you, and don't you forget it. I know all you're tellin' me, and I tell +_you_ I don't care!" + +Wondering much, Mary peeped round the corner of the barn, and saw Pippin +standing in the middle of the doorway. No one else was in sight, but his +eyes, shining with angry light, were bent forward on something that he +saw plain enough. Mary, this is a matter too hard for you. Were the +chaplain here, he would know all about it. He might even smile, and +murmur to himself, "Dominic!" or "Francis!" as the notion took him; for +he knows that the mystic did not pass with the Middle Ages, but is to be +found in the twentieth century as in the twelfth. Mary, of temperament +wholly non-mystical, could only look and listen in terror as the voice +rang out again. + +"I know all you've got to say. I know I've lost 'em, Pa and Ma and all. +I know I'll never get 'em back. And I know I'll never get my girl; +never! never!" His voice broke, but next moment it rang clear again: +"And I say to you what I said before, what I'll say while I have a +tongue to speak. You, Satan, _beat it!_ you hear me!" + +Now, Mary! Oh, now, run forward! Clasp his hand, your own true lover; +cry to him: + +"You can have your girl! She is yours, yours, yours, every inch of her, +now and always!" + +Her feet were starting forward; her lips were opening to speak, when she +heard something beside her, a breath drawn sharply in with a hissing +sound. She turned, and met the eyes of the imbecile girl, gazing at her +with strange and deadly looks. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +PRIMAL FORCES + + +"Comin' in to supper, Brand? The horn has blew!" Mr. Wisk paused, one +foot uplifted for the next step. + +To realize what a tribute to the blind man's personality lay in this +pause, one must have known Mr. Wisk. As his internal clock pointed the +approach of supper time he had been standing, poised for flight, an +elderly and ramshackle Mercury on a half-dug potato hill. At sound of +the horn he started, head bent forward, nose pointing as straight for +the kitchen as ever porker's for the trough. He would not have stopped +to put away his spade, because the corner behind the right-hand door +jamb of the barn had been long since appropriated by him for this +purpose; he could reach it without breaking step or slackening his pace. +Probably nothing on earth would have checked him except the very sight +that now met his eyes: the blind man standing just inside the door, +feeling over various things on a shelf so high that he (a very tall man) +could but just reach it. Mr. Wisk hesitated; it was his happy boast +never to have been late to a meal since he came to manhood. + +"Want--want I should help you?" he quavered. + +"No, thank you, Wisk! I'll be in presently, tell Mrs. Bailey. I have to +look for something just a minute, tell her." + +He smiled at the sigh of conscious heroism which drifted back from the +departing Wisk; but the smile faded quickly, and his face was anxious +enough as his fingers closed round one object and another on the shelf; +a bottle, a jar, a row of paper bags neatly tied with twine. To the +casual eye these bags were all alike; one must read the label, see the +skull and crossbones, to distinguish them; the blind man needed no +labels. + +"Lime, Paris green, Bordeaux mixture, arsenate of lead--one, two, three, +four--there should be five. Lime, Paris green, Bordeaux mixture--_where +is the hellebore_?" + +He paused, his hand resting in an empty space between two bags. The +hellebore should be there; it was always there. He had used it himself +yesterday. He had counted these objects every night for the past ten +years, and never before had one been missing. No one but he could reach +the shelf; even Jacob Bailey had to stand on the bucket to get at it, +and the rule was strict that none but one of these two was ever to touch +any object on it. Brand stood pondering, with bent head, his hand still +on the shelf. Who had been in the barn this afternoon? He himself, +Jacob, Pippin, and the child. No one else--except the little girl; Brand +always called Flora May the little girl. She had been there, not half an +hour ago; he had heard her step, had spoken to her, but she did not +answer. In one of her odd spells, probably, poor child! But she could +not reach the shelf, even if-- + +The supper table was less gay than usual that evening; silence prevailed +instead of the usual cheerful chatter. A stranger, glancing round the +table, would have seen for the most part faces absent or absorbed. Jacob +was thinking about Pippin, regretting that the chaplain had failed to +have that talk with him, wondering how he should himself make the matter +clear to the boy. His wife was disturbed about Flora May who was +evidently on the verge of one of her odd spells, for she had acted +strangely all day, and she looked wrong to-night. When she crumbled her +bread and didn't seem to know the way to her mouth, look out for +trouble! + +In the minds of Miss Pudgkins and Mr. Wisk the same thought reigned +supreme. The pie looked to be smaller than common; would she cut it in +six and fetch in another, or would she make it go round? Miss Whetstone +was inwardly lamenting that she had not told Mr. Hadley of Jonas +Cattermole's having been two years in the legislature. He'd see plain +enough then that folks was folks, even if they found it convenient to +board a spell with relations that happened to hold a town office. Miss +Whetstone raised her nose loftily, and told Mr. Wisk with a grand air +that she would trouble him for just a mite of them pickles if he could +spare any. + +And Mary? + +Mary had changed her seat, with a murmured excuse about a draft on her +back. She had usually sat between Jacob Bailey and Flora May, sat there +with an inward protest. She shrank from contact with the imbecile girl: +the instinctive shrinking of the healthy from the sick, the unconscious +cruelty of the normal toward the abnormal. Hitherto she had given no +sign of this, ashamed of an instinct that was yet too strong for her; +conscious, too, under the skin of her mind, of the warmth of compassion, +the tenderness of courtesy, with which Pippin always treated the poor +girl. If she had been the First Lady of the Land, he could have shown +her no more attention, Mary thought. + +But to-night there was something more; Mary was afraid. The look she had +met, out there by the barn, the dreadful look which seemed to strike +like a sword at her springing hope and lay it cold and dead--she +shuddered now at thought of it; she would not meet it again. If she had +turned her eyes toward Flora May, she would have seen the beautiful face +sombre but quiet, the eyes cast down, the girl's whole air listless and +brooding; only--if she had looked longer--she might have seen now and +then the heavy white lids tremble, lift a little way, and a glance dart +from under the long lashes toward Pippin where he sat opposite her. + +Mary dared not look at Pippin either, for she felt his eyes upon her. +Not yet, not before all these people, could she give him back look for +look, tell him silently all that was crying out within her; but soon, +soon, Pippin! Meantime she had drawn the child Peppino into the seat +next her, and was lavishing on him all the innocent wiles of the +child-hungry woman; and the child nestled close to her, and looked up at +her with adoring eyes. Pippin would see, would understand. All would be +well. + +Pippin saw, but did not understand. He had wrestled and overcome, but +the stress of conflict was still upon him, the air was still full of the +clash of arms, the sound of great wings. His shadow world was gone, +swept away into nothingness; and of the actual flesh-and-blood realities +he saw nothing except Mary Blossom. There she sat opposite him, in all +her loveliness; surely he might look at her now, might for once take his +fill of gazing on the lovely head with its clustering hair ("The color +of a yearlin' heifer--Poor old mutt! What a way to speak of it! Wouldn't +that give you a pain?"), on the long dark lashes against the exquisite +curve of the rose-white cheek, on the perfect mouth-- + +Pippin's eyes grew misty; the world fell away from him--say, rather, it +narrowed to a point, and life and death and every other creature were +merged in that fair head of the love he thought he had lost. + +"Flora May!" Mrs. Bailey spoke abruptly, almost sharply; every one +started. "Wake up, Flora, and set up straight; you're all slid down in +your chair. Here! Take this cup o' tea to Miss Blossom, dear!" + +The brooding face lightened, sharpened, in a strange way; the girl rose +with a swift, sudden movement, and went obediently to the end of the +table to take the cup. If Mrs. Bailey had looked up then--but she was +busy over her tea things. + +"You put the sugar in, dearie--she likes two lumps--and cream! Mr. +Brand, you ready for another cup?" + +Pippin had started with the rest, when Mrs. Bailey spoke. Now his eyes +followed Flora May for a moment; she had turned her back to the table, +and was--what was she doing? + +An old-fashioned mirror hung against the wall, dim with age, yet not so +dim but that Pippin saw in it the graceful figure of the girl reflected. +She paused, the cup in her left hand, drew from her bosom a folded +paper, shook into the cup what looked like a white powder, replaced the +paper carefully. Now what was that poor thing doing? Putting salt in +Mary's tea for a joke like? Lacking reason, they were like monkeys, some +way-- + +Then the girl lifted her head, and Pippin saw her eyes. In a flash he +was beside her, and had taken the cup from her hand; now he lifted it, +smiling, as if to drink. + +"I guess that's my cup, ain't it, Miss Flora May? I guess Mis' Bailey +made a mistake for once!" + +It all happened in a moment, in the twinkling of an eye. Before the cup +touched his lips, the girl struck it out of his hand. It fell with a +sharp crash on the floor. She threw up her arms with a cry which rang +through the house, and darted out into the night. + +"She's got a spell on her!" said Jacob Bailey, rising quickly. "It's +been coming on this week past, m' wife says. Come, Pippin; come, Wisk! +We'll have to find the poor child and bring her home." + +He spoke sadly, but without surprise, as of a thing well known. + +"You come too, Brand! Oftentimes she'll answer your voice when she won't +another. The barn first!" + +"She was there this afternoon," said the blind man, following. "Likely +she's gone to put back something she--borrowed!" + +Not in the barn; not in the corncrib, where she used to sit by the hour, +crooning her wordless songs; not in the kennel with old Rover, where +they had found her more than once, poor thing, her arms around the dumb +creature who perhaps--who knows?--was nearer her dumb mind than the +human beings around her. + +"This way!" said Brand. "Here's a thread of her dress on the gatepost. +She's gone to the wood lot." + +Not in the wood lot; no answer to the calls of friendly, tender voices. + +"Flora! Flora May! Where be you, little gal? Speak up, won't you?" + +Further on, through the meadows, guided by the blind man's unerring +fingers which found here a broken twig, there a shred of cotton, here +again a knot of ribbon caught in a bramble wreath; searching, calling, +searching, through weary hours. + +So at last to the distant pasture where the lily pond gleamed under the +moon. + +There they found her, poor Flora May. Lying among the lily pads, her +lovely hair twined about the brown stems, her fair face turned upwards, +the clear shallow water dimpling and wavering above her, so that she +seemed to smile at them in faint, disdainful mockery; so they found her, +lying quietly in the place of her rest. + + * * * * * + +"Don't cry, mother! don't ye! the Lord has took His poor lamb home. +Don't take on so, Lucy!" + +Thus Jacob, patting his wife's shoulder with clumsy, tender hand. He had +never seen her so overcome; the calm, self-contained woman was crying +and sobbing like a child. + +But now she collected herself with an effort, and dried her eyes. + +"I know, Jacob! I know I hadn't ought; I know she's better off; +but--'tis so pitiful! Oh, 'tis so pitiful! She couldn't help it, my poor +girl; she couldn't help it. 'Twas stronger than her. And, oh, Jacob, I +can't but think--if her father had been--different--" + +"There, Lucy! There! Such things is beyond us." + +"They hadn't ought to be!" cried Lucy Bailey, and her tears broke out +afresh. "They hadn't ought to be beyond us. The Lord intended we should +live clean and decent, and made us accordin'; and them as don't, it's +their children must pay, like the Bible says. But what keeps comin' back +and back on my mind is--she was so innocent and so pretty! Full as +pretty as what Mary is, to my thinkin'. Seein' her lyin' there, so +pretty--oh, so pretty! I couldn't but think--I couldn't but think--if +she had had a fair chance--" + +If she had had a fair chance! So Pippin thought, as he stood by the +little white bed in the narrow room. He had carried her home in his +young strong arms, had laid her here--reverently, as he would have laid +a royal princess--on the bed where she had tossed and moaned her heart +out for him; now she had no thought for him, she was all for sleep. He +had left her to the women, and gone to join the older men, a sorrowful +little group about the kitchen fire; but now, when all the house was +still, there could be no harm in his entering the quiet room once more, +humbly, with bowed head, to say a word of farewell to the poor sweet +pretty creatur'; to say a little prayer, too, and maybe--whisperin' +like, not to wake a soul--to sing a little hymn, seeing she used to set +by his singing. He looked round the room, neat and bare, yet a girl's +room, with pretty touches here and there: a bird's nest on a mossy twig, +a bunch of feathery grasses in a graceful jug, bright Christmas cards +framing the little mirror, drooping over them a necklace of wooden beads +carved by Brand for his little girl. Beside these things, on a stand by +the bedside, some pond lilies in a glass bowl, drooping with folded +petals. Pippin shivered, and his eyes turned to the still figure, the +white lovely face. + +Kneeling humbly by the humble bed, he said his prayer; then raised his +head, and softly, softly, a golden thread of sound--sure no one could +hear!--his voice stole out in the hymn she had loved best: + + "There is rest for the weary, + There is rest for the weary, + There is rest for the weary, + There is rest for you! + + "On the other side of Jordan, + In the green fields of Eden, + Where the tree of life is blooming, + There is rest for your soul!" + +Pippin rose and stood for some moments looking down on the quiet face; +then he made his reverence--bowing lower than usual, with a gesture of +his hands as if taking leave of something high and noble--and turned +away. + +Closing the door softly, he paused, looking into the darkness of the +passage with wistful eyes. He was very, very lonely; his heart was sad +as death. Could he--might he not, once more, call up to comfort him the +shadow faces he had loved so well? Now? Just this once! He bent forward, +his eyes fixed intently. + +"Ma!" he said softly. "You there?" + +A moment's pause; then a sob broke from him and he turned to go. + +But then--oh, then!--came a rustle of something soft, came a flash of +something white. Two arms were flung round his neck, pressing him close, +close; a radiant head lay on his shoulder. + +"Will I do?" cried Mary Blossom. "Oh, Pippin, Pippin! Will I do +instead?" + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +PIPPIN OVERCOMES + + +"Well, how about it?" said John Aymer. + +A council was being held in the pleasant parlor with the rose-colored +shades. John Aymer, Lucy his wife, and Lawrence Hadley, his wife's +brother, were sitting together, talking of things with which we have +some concern. + +"How about it?" repeated the hardware merchant. He planted both elbows +on his knees, rested his chin on his hands, and, as he would have said, +squared away for action. The others looked up inquiringly. "Pippin is +your hunt, Larry, and from your point of view--and his--he is on the +right track, and it's all highcockolorum Erin go Bragh. But Mary is our +hunt, Lucy's and mine, and we don't feel so sure about all this." + +"I do part of the time, John!" Mrs. Aymer spoke with a certain timidity, +unlike her usual gay decisiveness. "When I talk with Larry, or see +Pippin--even just look at him--it seems all as right as right; but +then--" + +"But then you look at Mary, and it doesn't. See here, Lar!" John Aymer +laid down his pipe, a token of strong interest with him. "Pippin is what +you call a mystic and I call a glorified crank. All he wants in the +world--beside Mary--is a chance to help, as he says; and it's great. I +know it is, and I'm proud to know the chap, and all that. But that +_isn't_ all Mary wants!" + +The chaplain looked up with a grave nod of comprehension. + +"Mary Blossom," John Aymer went on, "is a fine girl, and she's an +ambitious girl. She has done well herself, got a first-rate education of +its kind, made herself a first-rate all-round young woman, capable of +doing--within limits--anything she sets her hand to. Now--she's as dead +stuck on Pippin as he is on her--" + +"John! What language! She adores him, if that is what you mean." + +"Well, she adores him, then--doesn't sound half as real--but she doesn't +adore the line of life he is laying out for himself and her. I don't +believe she takes any more stock in it than--than I should. She would +like to see her husband a church member in regular standing: a +vestryman; doing no end of pious work, you know--he has to do _that_ or +bust; even I can see that--but doing it in a regular respectable kind of +way: chairman of Boards--what? Frock coat, handsome rooms, +subcommittees, secretaries, that kind of thing. She wants to see him a +leader, and she believes he can be. This picking up a boy here and a +tramp there, singing and praying, hurrah boys and God bless you, doesn't +cut much ice with Mary. Poor little soul, she cried an hour on Lucy's +shoulder the other night. Lucy cried, too, of course; water works all +over the house, almost drowned me out." + +"John!" + +"Well, sir, that kind of thing--the chairman, frock coat, committee-room +thing, is what Mary wants for her husband; and who can say but she's +right? I don't say she is, mind! I'm not a spiritual kind of man, and I +know it; but I do say that Pippin ought to realize how she feels and +the kind of life she would choose. Then he can face it, squarely, and +make his own decision, knowing what it means to her. You say--" he +turned to his wife, who was listening intently--"he's had no education. +Granted--in a way! But you can't keep Pippin from education any more +than you can keep a dog from water when he's thirsty. (Nip's bowl is +empty, by the way, Lucy; might cry into that next time, what?) I don't +say it will be book education; much good my books have done me, and as +you say, Lucy, my English resembles a tinker's--well, thought it, if you +didn't say it--well--what do you say, Reverend?" + +Lawrence Hadley threw his head back with a little reversed nod that was +all his own. + +"Give me a minute, Jack! I'm assimilating! Give me a minute!" + +He took a minute, whistling "Am I a soldier of the Cross?" through +slowly and carefully. Then he took three more in silence, walking slowly +up and down the room, the others watching him anxiously. + +All true--so far as it went. Pippin ought to see, ought to realize, what +Mary wanted. Ought to realize, too, what power he would have in that +way, the frock coat, roast-turkey, mahogany-and-brass-rail way. +Popularity? He might become the idol of a day--of many days. Men's +hearts would open to him like flowers to the sun. Mass meetings; +hospitals; his voice floating through the wards; "the bright seraphim in +burning row!" Yes! Mary beside him, glorified in him, shining with his +light and her own--Yes!--On the other hand--what? A dying tramp +comforted; a weak boy saved from ruin; a poor old sinner made happy. Not +much, perhaps? And yet--had the Master founded hospitals there in +Judea? Had He healed all the lepers? He healed one, and the world +changed. The hospitals have been building ever since. + +At last he spoke. + +"Every word you say is true, Jack! Hold on!" as the other reached for +his pipe with an air of relief. "Don't light up yet; you won't be so +pleased in a minute. Every word is true, I say, but it's only half the +truth, and the less important half!" + +Hadley's eyes kindled, and he began to beat time with his fist on the +arm of his chair. He was getting up steam. + +"What do you mean?" said Aymer, rather shortly. + +"You are right about Pippin's realizing Mary's point of view. He ought, +and he shall; you shall put it to him yourself, as strongly as you like; +but--here comes in my half--she must also realize his, and that is what +she doesn't do." + +"That is true, John!" Mrs. Aymer started forward, clasping her pretty +hands in an adorable little way she had when strongly moved. "She +_doesn't_ realize, any more than you do; any more than I do, except just +the least little bit. But, oh, I know Lawrence is right! I feel it in +every bone I have. John dear, do as Lar says; put your side--_our_ side, +for, oh, I _am_ such a worldly little animal!--before Pippin plainly, +and then let Lar show Mary the other!" + +"Agreed!" said John Aymer. + +"No!" said Lawrence Hadley. "Pippin shall show her the other himself." + +At this moment came a knock at the door. + +"Come in!" said John Aymer impatiently. + +The door flew open, and Mary entered, a Mary at sight of whom Mrs. +Aymer sprang forward with inarticulate murmurs, while the two men rose +to their feet in confusion. A wholly unfamiliar Mary; one would have +said an impossible one. Crying, laughing, clasping and unclasping her +hands wildly, she ran to the other woman, and melted into her arms as if +there were no such things as class distinctions in the world. + +"Oh! Mrs. Aymer!" she sobbed. "Oh, Mr. Aymer and Mr. Hadley! If you +please! I have been a wicked, wicked girl!" + +Sorely puzzled, the three friendly conspirators looked past the bright +head, now resting on Mrs. Aymer's agitated shoulder, to the doorway, +where stood Pippin, silent, motionless, but radiating light and joy and +pride, "Like a torch!" "Like a blooming lighthouse!" said the two men, +each to himself, in his own speech. + +"I wouldn't cry, Mary!" Pippin spoke quietly, as he would to a child. + +"You would!" Mary flashed round upon him. "You'd cry your eyes out, and +wish you had more to cry out! I've been a wicked, wicked girl! Oh, Mrs. +Aymer! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! No, my kind lady, don't stop me, for it has +to come out. He took me--my Pippin took me--down--down to those dreadful +places where he used to live. I went into a cellar, dark and cold--oh! +and there was a little child, all thin and cold and dirty, not clothes +enough to cover him; and bruises on his little flesh! Oh, my heart! And +Pippin said--Pippin said--'That might be me, Mary!' Oh, Mrs. Aymer! Oh, +Mr. Hadley! _It might have been me, too!_ It all came back. I +remember--I remember--" + +The sobs choked her, but she fought them back fiercely, and went on, +struggling for utterance, still clasping and unclasping those eager +hands. "He showed me more, but that was enough. I says to myself, 'Who +am I, to turn him from his own work? Who am I, to come between him and +the Lord? No! no!" She turned, and held out her hands with a passionate +gesture. Pippin stepped forward and clasped the hands in his. + +"We're going to work together!" said Mary Blossom. She spoke quietly +now, though the sobs still tried to break out. "I'm going to follow him, +help him, serve with him, every minute of my life from now on. He will +do all the real work, everything that counts; but I can cook, and mend, +and--oh, Mrs. Aymer, I can wa-wa-wash for them!" + +She caught Pippin's hand to her lips, then flung it away and ran out. A +silken flutter, and Lucy Aymer was after her like a flash. There was a +tempestuous rustle of petticoats, and the sound of sobs and cooing; then +silence. + +The three men looked at one another. Presently John Aymer drew a long +breath. "So _that's_ all right!" he said. "One to you, Parson!" + +The chaplain laughed, a contented little laugh. "Very handsome of you, +Jack!" he said. "What do you say, Pippin? Is it all right?" + +"It is, sir!" Pippin raised his head, which had been bent for a moment. +"Yes, Elder, and Boss--I would say Mr. Aymer, sir; it is all right. I +knew it would be; I never had no fears. I knew as soon as Mary sensed it +she'd realize how 'twas. Yes, sir, I took her down--" he named a certain +quarter of the city--"and showed her. I didn't need to say a word, +hardly. She saw; Mary saw! And now, Elder--" he turned to Lawrence +Hadley, and his eyes kindled. "Lemme tell you! It's like you said. I've +got to get edication. I'm not fit to take holt of kids yet--not yet--but +I will be! I'd like to start right away, if agreeable to you. You say +where to go, and I'll go, if I have to wheel myself in a barrer!" + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +PIPPIN PRAISES THE LORD + + +Two years have passed, as yesterday, as a watch in the night. Once more +the chaplain sits in his office, the bare, unlovely little room where we +first saw him. Once more he is opening, sorting, reading his morning +mail, his brow saddening, lightening, saddening again. Finally, once +more the cloud rolls away entirely, and he settles himself in his chair +with a comfortable sigh. + +"Pippin!" he says, and composes himself to read. Let us look over his +shoulder and read with him! + + HONORED AND RESPECTED SIR, + + I take up my pen with pleasure, to express the hope that the + present seasonable weather may find you in good health and the + enjoyment of every blessing. Well, Elder, I haven't written this + good while past, because I wanted to wait and see would I be + able to tell you what I _wanted_ to tell you. Well, Elder, I + want you should know it's _all right_, I have got that degree! I + had a talk with the Old Man last winter, and he surely is great. + He said I was all right on chemistry and crops and soils and + like that, and similar on social economics, and mathematics, but + where I fell down was on rhetoric and English literature. I said + did he think that cut any great amount of ice when all I wanted + was know how to run a farm and bring up boys straight and white. + He said he didn't know as it did, but yet I didn't want those + boys to grow up speaking ignorant. You bet I don't says I, but + what's to hinder me learning 'em? I says, and learning myself + at the same time? Have the books, and study right along with + 'em I says, and there would be others could teach me, I says. + Then I told him how it was about me and Mary, and how it didn't + seem as if I _could wait any longer_. He laughed real pleasant, + and said he guessed I wouldn't be called upon to wait very long, + and I should have the degree all right first minute he could + give it to me. Then he explained just how it was, and of course + I saw in a minute; he couldn't give a degree to a guy for + knowing a thing when he didn't know it. He knew how 'twas with + me, and that I was doing chores and odd jobs to pay my way. And + grinding! Elder, I was thankful to Nipper for that wheel. I sure + was. I kept the whole show sharpened up good, now I tell you. + + Well, Elder, now I want to tell you. When you first said, + and Mr. Bailey upheld you, that it behooved me wait two years, + and go to State Agricultural, and do thus and so, before I'd be + fit to handle boys and be trusted by them as had 'em in + charge--I tell you, sir, it seemed as if I _couldn't_, no way in + the world. It appeared like I couldn't do it. It was like as if + I was in Heaven, and you took me by my scruff and pants and hove + me out. "It's more than reason," I says to myself. "It's more + than flesh and blood can stand; it's like I was white-hot metal, + and they took and threw cold water over me!" Well, Elder! You + see where that was leading me? I bet you do! But I didn't, not + at first. I went out to the barn, you rec'lect, and just set + there by myself, humped up on the meal bucket, sayin' over and + over, "I was all white hot to do the Lord's work, and they've + took and threw cold water over me!" + + And then, all of a sudden, it come to me, and I laughed + right out. You must have heard me over to the house, I expect. + Mary did, and she come running--bless her! "You lunkhead!" I + says. "You lunkhead from way back everlasting, how do they + temper metal _but_ with cold water? Nice kind of steel you'd get + without it, what say? Like to shave with soft iron, what say? + And when you put it in the water it hisses," I says, "and so + does the old gander hiss, and I know which you are most like!" I + says. + + I was laughing, you rec'lect, when I come back to tell you + 'twas all right; I expect you knew pretty well how twas. You + were whistling "Soldier of the Cross," and that showed me. + + Well, Elder, I have had a _great time_ over to State + Agricultural, I sure have. The folks have been dandy, sir, + simply dandy. Folks couldn't _be_ no dandier than what they have + to me. I used to think college folks and like that was _wanting_ + somehow, but I found the boot was on the other leg, it was me + that was a nut to think so. I've made friends--why, they are + _all_ friends, I do believe. I'll tell you all about it first + chance I get, but what I want to say _now_ is, Elder, _my time + is up_! I've got my degree, and Mr. Bailey is satisfied, and the + cottage is ready (I've put in all my vacations on it, you know, + and Mr. Bailey and the selectmen have been more than kind, the + neighbors too), and Mary is ready; bless her heart! and Mrs. + Aymer can spare her all right, or at least she says she _can't_, + but she _will_, the kiddo learning to walk and like that; and + she's got Mary the dandiest outfit ever you saw, Elder! If she + was the President's wife, it couldn't be no dandier. And I've + been to see all those gentlemen you said, the Boards and like + that, and they was all dandy too, and said "Go ahead," and _I'm + going_! So name the day you can come over, Elder, and _Mary and + I will be there_. The Lord is so good to me--I don't know why He + is so good, except that He _is_ good. And all my life long, sir, + I'll try my best to make other folks happy, I sure will. So no + more but thanking you Elder, because under the Lord you really + done it all sir. With a grateful heart though faltering pen I + beg to convey to you, reverend and highly respected Sir, the + assurance of my being + + Your most obedient humble servant + PIPPIN. + + P.S. I could have written and spelled it better if I had + have taken time and followed this book, the "Polite Letter + Writer"; a guy loaned it to me over to State Agricultural. + I began this letter with it, but it balled me up so I couldn't + keep on and I'm in hopes you will excuse bad writing and + spelling. But I aim at a correct and elegant style, dear Sir, + in epistolary communication--green grass! maybe when I have + _more time_, Elder, I can do it, but it's no use, I cannot now. + +The chaplain read this letter through twice. Then, after docketing and +filing it carefully, he rose, and tucking his coat tails under his arm, +proceeded to dance gravely up and down the little bare room, singing the +song that was his high water mark of joy and triumph: + + "Green is for Ireland, Ireland, Ireland, + Green is for Ireland, fiddle dal day!" + +The day was named; the day was here. Boards, councils and committees +sent each a kindly delegate to the opening of the new Boys' Cottage at +Cyrus Poor Farm. The opening was to take place in the afternoon; eight +of the ten boys were to be brought over from the city by the president +of a certain institution; there were to be addresses and formalities. +But a few delegates had been asked to come early, to attend the wedding +of the young couple who were to take charge of the new cottage. These +delegates came smiling, full of cheerful expectation. This, they told +one another, was Lawrence Hadley's venture. Good fellow, Hadley, +excellent fellow! Yes, he vouched for this young chap, absolutely. +Seemed to be an extraordinary chap; State Agricultural College gone wild +over him. Kind of athletic evangelist, it appeared; led 'em all by the +nose, they say. This cottage was his idea; yes. And there it was; pretty +cottage! + +A pretty cottage indeed; red brick, like the mother building which +smiles friendly upon it across the green yard; its creepers already +started, its flower beds already in bloom; its brass knocker defying the +sun. Inside, all fresh and bright, homelike and--full! Full to +overflowing, so that the kindly delegates pause astonished, and wonder +whence all these people have found their way to so remote a district as +North Cyrus. Who are all these people? Come and see! + +First, in the shining kitchen, which has walked bodily over, it would +appear, from Mr. Aymer's home in the city suburb, who are these two +busy, rosy, white-capped and aproned people, man and woman? Why, these +are Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, who are preparing the wedding breakfast. Who +else should prepare it, they would like to know? Weren't they the first +to welcome Pippin when he came to Kingdom? Wasn't he like their own, a +son to them, a brother to Buster? Buster is in the shed now, "spelling" +Myron at the ice cream freezer, both so eager that they are making +five-minute shifts at the handle. Glancing through the open shed door, +you may see Jacob Bailey in his Sunday suit, deep in talk with Father +O'Brien and Elder Stebbins--pleasant talk, to judge from their faces. +From the barn comes Brand, he too in his decent best, threadbare but +spotless, carrying in careful hands the wonderful nest of baskets on +which his spare hours for the past year have been spent: his wedding +present for Pippin and Mary. Look at him! He has never seen light, but +we see it in his face. + +Who is in the dining-room of the cottage? Mrs. Bailey, of course, with +Aunt Mandy Whetstone and Miss Pudgkins. Miss Whetstone opines that if +there was need of city folks to do their table settin' for them, it was +time they give up! With trembling hands she is laying out on the table +the four silver teaspoons and the gravy ladle which commonly repose with +her burial money at the bottom of her trunk. The trunk is kept locked, +strapped and corded, the key hangs round Miss Whetstone's neck on a +string; you never know, and in case of fire, there you are! Miss +Pudgkins has no teaspoons, but she has "loaned" for the occasion the +chief ornament of her bedroom, a magnificent wreath of "preserved" +funeral flowers in a glass case. The cloud on her brow at this moment +comes from Mrs. Bailey's kindly but firm refusal to use the wreath for a +centrepiece. + +"Fresh flowers is rill common!" Miss Pudgkins thinks. + +One cannot say that Mr. Wisk is in any special room, because he is in +them all, following his unerring nose from dining-room to kitchen, from +kitchen to pantry, wherever the smell of food leads him; pointing +industriously, and whispering in any willing ear that that ham, sir, is +the "pick and peer of swine p'dooce the country over, let the others be +who they will." Mr. Wisk has unearthed from some mouldering portmanteau +an enormous red velvet waistcoat with glass buttons, reaching halfway to +his knees. He is proud of every inch of it, and struts gloriously when +glances are cast toward it. + +Who is in the parlor? Why, who but Mrs. Appleby and Mrs. Faulkner, both +in holiday guise; both beaming with the same effulgence of joy that +lights every face in this astonishing cottage? Here in the parlor also +is the chaplain, holding in either hand Peppino and Jimmy Mather, who +are straining like puppies on a leash. + +"Keep still, youngsters!" commands the chaplain. "You nearly had me +over that time. I'll tell you as soon as I see--ah! there they are!" + +The mellow note of a Gabriel horn is heard; an automobile comes dashing +down the road. It is John Aymer's new car, the "Son and Heir," and John +Aymer is driving it. Beside him sits Mrs. Aymer, all smiles and roses +and pink muslin, as becomes a matron of honor, in her arms the son and +heir himself, _almost_ big enough, she thinks, for a page, (but not +quite, since every third step still brings his nose to the earth). And +in the tonneau--are these two glorified spirits from another world, +radiating light and joy and triumph? No! These are Pippin and Mary; she +in white, with white roses in her pretty hat, he--but no one could ever +tell what Pippin had on. + +At sight of him the chaplain looses his hold of the two boys. They make +one bolt for the door, fall out of it together, wriggle up again, and +rush like a double whirlwind to the gate, rolling under the wheels of +the car, which has fortunately come to a standstill. + +Pippin and Mary spring down. Seeing them, the cottage becomes all eyes, +guests, helpers, delegates, crowding to the windows. Most of the women +begin to cry. Foolish creatures! What is the matter with them? And why, +on the other hand, do most of the men suddenly develop head colds, and +flourish handkerchiefs violently? Is it just because it is the common +way at weddings? Or is it because these two young people have been +patient, valiant, and steadfast, and now, after the long days of their +waiting, there is something in their faces that brings the tear as well +as the smile to all that see? + +Here they are, hand in hand. Everybody is shouting, "Pippin! Pippin!" +and crowding round him and Mary. The delegates rather think everybody +has gone suddenly mad, but they don't feel quite sane themselves +somehow. Something in the air, something in Pippin's face and voice, +goes to their heads too, and they find themselves shaking hands with +everybody, and echoing the chaplain's shout, + +"Glorious! Glorious! Great guns, this is glorious!" + +The time has come. The workers hurry in, breathless but demure, the +guests smooth their dresses and settle with a solemn gesture. + +"Dearly beloved--" + +Then, the seven minutes over that have made Pippin and Mary man and +wife, what a rush of kisses, slaps on the back, handshakings, good +wishes, congratulations! Amid all which Mrs. Baxter and Mrs. Bailey nod +to each other and steal out, beckoning to their aids. "Dish up!" the +word passes round, low and emphatic. The Baxters fly, the Baileys +flutter, Mr. Wisk and his pointing nose get in everybody's way and +narrowly escape upsetting Mr. Baxter as he comes proudly into the +dining-room, carrying his life's masterpiece, the wedding cake. Such a +cake! Frosting as many inches deep as frosting can be; citron and +angelica, plums and comfits--even Solomon in all his glory had no cake +like this. Mr. Baxter, in his rapture hinting at this, is promptly +rebuked by Mrs. Baxter, and told not to be profane, father; before the +boy, too! + +"Breakfast is served!" says Mr. Baxter, as if he were reading the +Declaration of Independence. + +In they all come, Pippin and Mary leading off, the guests following in a +joyous mob, the delegates bringing up the rear, smiling twice as hard as +when they came. Most extraordinary occasion! Must remember all this to +tell the wife. Most extraordinary people! + +They have all got round the table, no one knows how. Pippin and Mary are +standing, still hand in hand, all heaven in their faces. Pippin looks +round, and his eyes fill with tears like all the rest. He bows his head +for a moment, his lips moving silently; then he looks up, and his smile +lightens the room. + +Once more his eyes make the circuit of the table, every face kindling +from his glance. He lifts his hand, and makes his reverence like a young +birch tree in the wind. + +"Mary and folks," says Pippin; "seein' the Lord has dealt with us not +accordin' to--I would say _my_ sins, Mary not havin' any, nor I wouldn't +presume likely any of you dandy folks--what I would say--shall we praise +Him in song?" + +He lifts his head; his voice breaks out, solemn, jubilant, triumphant. + + "Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow!" + + + * * * * * + + +Transcriber's Note: Punctuation has been corrected when it was deemed to +be printer's error. 'oe' ligatures have been rewritten as non-ligatured +'oe'. + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's Pippin; A Wandering Flame, by Laura E. Richards + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 40176 *** |