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diff --git a/41870-0.txt b/41870-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..398156a --- /dev/null +++ b/41870-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,903 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41870 *** + +Note: Project Gutenberg also has an HTML version of this + file which includes the original illustrations. + See 41870-h.htm or 41870-h.zip: + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/41870/41870-h/41870-h.htm) + or + (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/41870/41870-h.zip) + + + Images of the original pages are available through + Internet Archive. See + http://archive.org/details/goldincensewestc00pear + + +Transcriber's note: + + Text enclosed by underscores is in italics (_italics_). + + + + + +GOLD AND INCENSE + +[Illustration] + +GOLD AND INCENSE + +A West Country Story + +by + +MARK GUY PEARSE + +[Publisher's mark] + +Forty-seventh Thousand + + + + + + + +London +Horace Marshall & Son + +Butler & Tanner, +The Selwood Printing Works, +Frome, and London. + + + + + Dedication + + TO SIDNEY HILL ESQ. + OF LANGFORD HOUSE + SOMERSET + + + + +_It may add to the interest of my story if I state that it is perfectly +true._ + + + + +Chapter I + + +To think it is Jennifer Petch of whom I am going to tell--little +Jennifer. How she would laugh if she only knew of it, that shrill, +silvery laugh of hers. It was her great gift. Jennifer was a philosopher +in the matter of laughing; and philosophy is mostly a matter of knowing +how to laugh and when. + +[Illustration] + +And the village itself would wonder almost as much as Jennifer herself, +for very few of them could see anything to write about in her. Village +people do not see much in what they see always, and Jennifer had lived +among them all her days. There was a time when some of the younger folks +thought they owed her a little bit of a grudge. For Sam Petch was the +tallest, and straightest, and handsomest of the village lads; and the +maidens who strolled down the lane on a summer's evening would go home +with fluttering hearts and delicious dreams if Sam had chanced to come +that way, as somehow he generally did; and if he had loitered laughing +with them in the lane, as he never minded doing. + +There was Phyllis, light of hair and blue of eye, light of step and +light of heart, and light of hand, as her butter showed--not one of the +lads had any chance with her so long as Sam was free. + +There was Chloe, she of the loose sun-bonnet, with gipsy face and gipsy +eyes, who handled the rake so daintily, and drew the sweet hay together +with such grace that nobody wondered if Sam Petch found it a great deal +easier to turn his head that way than to turn it back again. + +And on the Sunday night when the service was over, at the door of the +little chapel, which was the village trysting place, there were half a +dozen of the comeliest of the maidens, who found an excuse to linger +talking, until Sam had gone his way. + +It came on them all with an amazement of surprise, especially as events +of that kind were always busily whispered abroad at the slightest hint, +and often without any hint at all--"Sam Petch was going to be married." + +"Who to?" asked everybody, brightening with wonder. + +After every likely lass had been guessed the voice fell, and the answer +was given almost with a sense of wrong, "Why, to little Jennifer! +Whatever he can see in her I can't think." + +For that matter, no more could Jennifer herself. Round and short of +figure, red and brown of face, she had never so much as ventured to +look at Sam, or to think of him either. And even now she was almost +sorry for him that she was only plain little Jennifer, and not like +Phyllis or Chloe. + +And because the village maidens could see no reason for it in her looks +they concluded that there must be some hidden wiliness, some depth of +craft for which they were no match. They talked it over as they milked +the cows, the white stream falling with its music into the pail. "She +knew what she was doing, Jennifer did, a regular deep one." It was told +in the lane with a laugh, as if each wanted to show that Sam was +nothing to them, of course. + +But the older folks talked of it differently. The women stood in the +doorway of an evening with clusters of children about them, and +according to them it was Sam who was the deep one. He knew what he was +doing, did Sam. There were things, they said, and they spoke feelingly, +that lasted longer than good looks and were worth more. And as the men +came home with heavy steps from the day's work, with a smell about them +like the smell of a field that the Lord hath blessed, they said that a +little thrifty body like Jennifer was a prize for anybody to be proud +of, and Sam Petch was a lucky fellow, that he was. + +It was plain enough, whatever Jennifer thought--and she kept her +thoughts mostly to herself--that Sam agreed with these older ones. He +could not do enough to show his pride in Jennifer, and but that she +refused all offers of finery, would have made his plain little +sweetheart as gay as Phyllis or Chloe. Never an evening passed but you +met them walking leisurely together, the declared sign of courtship, +which was also known as "keeping company." It was thus distinguished +from marriage, for which the accepted sign was that the wife kept three +yards behind. + +But when Sam and Jennifer were married they still went on "keeping +company;" even though his long stride needed three of Jennifer's short +steps, she was never behind, and Sam would have taken steps as short as +hers before she should be. And if it be true that light hearts make easy +travelling, they might well keep together, up hill and down. A glance +was enough to show that things were flourishing with them. Their +cottage stood on the top of the hill, all set about with a garden fair, +and at the side and back of the house grew "stuff" enough to send to +market. Sam had rented a bit of a meadow where a couple of cows gave +Jennifer the chance of showing her skill at clotted cream and butter. +There, too, a troop of fowls had their run, and away in a corner three +pigs added to the importance of Sam and to the cares of Jennifer. She, +thrifty soul, made enough out of her department to pay the rent; up +early, and always at work, her song only ceasing to make way for her +silvery laugh. The older folks repeated their opinion now as a prophecy +fulfilled, and took to themselves as much credit as if the prediction +had been the chief cause of the prosperity. + +Before three years had gone Jennifer's department was increased by the +birth of two sturdy little sons. They were both the image of Sam, so the +women declared; but the men saw in each the image of their mother, and +counted it a pity that they were not girls, for the like of Jennifer +they reckoned scarce. + + + + +Chapter II + + +It was an evening toward the end of August, and the harvest was being +gathered in. The fields on every side were dotted with the tented +sheaves piled up as the custom is in the "catching" weather of the West, +one sheaf reversed on the top of the cluster, so as to form a kind of +roof. The long shadows of the shocks fell across the fields in +the evening light. All the country was beautiful with that rich +restfulness which comes in the autumn, as if the earth had finished its +work. The glories of the sunset gave the sky a hundred delicate tints of +gold and purple. + +[Illustration] + +Here and there the women brought the sheaves, whilst the men piled them +on the wagons. Away over the hill country in the east the great harvest +moon was rising. + +Jennifer, busy as ever, had got her two little ones settled for the +night, and now was preparing a dainty supper for Sam's return; the +savoury smell of it filled the place. + +[Illustration] + +Then it was that, as to Job of old, one came breathless to the house +with sad tidings. Sam had slipped from the stack and fallen on his head. + +"Is--he--dead?" gasped Jennifer. + +No, he was not dead; but he had not spoken since his fall, and was quite +unconscious. A messenger had been sent for the doctor, and the men were +bringing Sam home, and would be here in a few minutes. + +Up the hill came the group with the injured man in their midst, to all +appearance dead. A great hush fell on the village as they passed slowly +on, men in their shirt sleeves just as they had hurried in from the +harvest field. The women and children stood at the doors with faces full +of sympathy. + +They bore him in at the little gate and through the garden and up the +stairs, and laid him on the bed. + + * * * * * + +For weeks Sam lay on his bed, whilst day and night Jennifer waited on +him. + +The neighbours stopped the doctor to ask about him, and the answer was +ever the same: + +"He'll pull through; he'll pull through," and the doctor tightened his +mouth and nodded his head; "but he would have been a dead man long ago +if it had not been for that brave little wife of his." + +Fracture of the skull and concussion of the brain, and a host of other +ills, made it a desperate fight with death. But Jennifer fought and +won. Even in his unconsciousness Sam seemed to know the touch of her +hand, and it soothed him; and the tone of her voice, and the moaning +ceased. + +But bit by bit their little fortune was swept away. The savings of those +three or four years were quickly spent; the cows had to be sold, and the +meadow given up; the pigs and fowls were parted with. + +The garden lay untended. And when, at last, the doctor had done with +Sam, it was only to leave him an imbecile--helpless as a baby, and a +great deal more troublesome--sometimes muttering to himself for hours +together a round of unmeaning words; sometimes just crying all day long, +and then again cross and peevish and perverse as any spoilt child. + +The cottage was given up; they could not afford the rent of that. + +Another was taken, the cheapest in all the village--one that was too bad +for anybody else. + +Half a crown a week and a loaf of bread from the parish was all that +came in to supplement Jennifer's poor earnings of sixpence a day in the +fields. + + * * * * * + +It was some few years after this had happened that I came to know +Jennifer. + +There she sat in the little chapel, her round and ruddy face without a +wrinkle in it, all curves and dimples that were the settled homes of +good humour and thankfulness; a face snugly surrounded by a black +bonnet, set off with a clean white cap. Beside her were her two lads, +their faces as clean and shining as plenty of soap and hard scrubbing +could make them. You met her going home from the service, the short, +round figure wrapped in a thick black shawl, trotting along with her +hymn book in one hand and a big umbrella in the other, short and round +like herself. The happy little lads went bounding before her, the three +of them the very picture of gladness. + +Yet it was almost wicked of Jennifer to look so comfortable, when all +the parish knew that there was not a poor body for miles around that had +so much trouble. She certainly had no business to be anything but the +most mournful and melancholy soul that ever went grumbling along the +highroad, if you can measure people's happiness by their circumstances. + +Follow her as she turns down this narrow lane, skilfully picking her +way in the mud. At the end of the lane is her cottage. One half of it +has fallen, the cob-walls have given way, and the thatch hangs over the +ruins. It was a wonder that what was standing did not follow, for there +were cracks in the walls through which the wind whistled, and there were +broken places in the roof through which the rain dripped. + +But within was a greater sorrow than any that you could find outside. As +Jennifer opens the door she hurries across the uneven floor to the rough +settle by the fire. There is her husband--poor Sam! + +As now she comes near and lays her hand upon his shoulder, the dull face +is turned toward her with a smile. He tries to say something, but the +mouth only opens without a word, and the tears fill his eyes. Jennifer +bends and kisses him tenderly. "Poor dear," she says, as she gently +strokes the hands that hold her own. "Poor dear, was he wanting us home +again?" + +Presently she slips the hand away so skilfully that her husband does not +seem to know it, and takes off her bonnet and shawl. + +The lads meanwhile have set the things for the Sunday dinner. It did not +need much setting. On the rickety table was placed a knife--they had but +one. There were three slices of bread, a thick round off the loaf, and +on each slice a bit of cheese; "Double Gloucester" was, I think, the +local name of it. The one big mug was filled from a large earthen +pitcher. + +Jennifer herself had set the kettle down by the wood fire, for if she +had a weakness it was her cup of tea. But there was not much promise of +any water boiling in a hurry; the tiny spark was almost lost in the big +fireplace, a hearth opening into the chimney, and so constructed that a +great deal more cold seemed to come down than heat went up. + +The little family group stood and bent their heads in devout +thanksgiving to the heavenly Father, and then the hungry lads fell to. +As for Jennifer herself it seemed as if she never got her dinner at all. +All her concern was to try and tempt her husband's appetite with a piece +of bread and butter daintily cut; and there was for him, too, a drop of +milk. Yet even her hypocrisy could not manage to keep up her happy looks +on nothing. + +[Illustration] + +This was Sunday: a day indeed of rest and gladness. Other days she had +to be up and about early to get the little lads their breakfast; and to +make them ready for school; and to set her husband by the fire. Then she +herself was off with the dawn, and sometimes before, to work all day in +the fields. Her rough dress was stained earth colour from head to foot; +a sack was tied round the skirts which were tucked well up out of the +way. A big sun-bonnet protected her more often from the bleak winds and +bitter rains than from the sun. From dawn till dusk she worked for +sixpence a day; and then came home thanking God right heartily for the +three shillings a week. And on that Jennifer managed to feed and clothe +her household, and to pay the rent and to keep up her good looks. + +The fact is, Jennifer was as we have said, a philosopher, and had made a +great discovery. It was certainly worthy to be set alongside of the most +famous inventions; and like many of them it had the one great defect--so +few knew how to use it. Jennifer had little, it is true. She was, so to +speak, but a moulting bird, half starved and shivering in the dreariest +and dullest of cages--that is, if you looked at what _was_. But +Jennifer found another world, in which she had a boundless freedom and +strength, and here she went soaring like an eagle right up into the sun. +It was what _wasn't_ that she made so much of. + +You pitied her, and spoke mournfully about her husband, as if he were a +burden and worry. But Jennifer never seemed to hear it, and certainly +could not see it. + +"Poor dear," she said, "I can mind the day he asked me to be his wife. I +did jump. And all the maidens in the parish would have liked him. When +they heard about it they all went wondering whatever he could see in a +poor little plain thing like me; but none of them wondered so much as I +did. I never could do enough for him when he was well, and now that I +have got my chance I should be ashamed if I did not make the best of it. +Poor dear, he is as much to me as ever, and more too--husband and child +all in one." And she said it over tenderly to herself, "Poor dear!" + +But this was Jennifer's sentiment, and her sentiments were sacred and +kept mostly for home use. It was the philosopher that met you more +commonly. You spoke to her pitifully of her husband's affliction, and +were almost startled at the tone of her cheery voice. + +"Yes, 'tis sad. But bless you, think of what _might_ ha' been. If he was +in racks of torments all day long, and me at his side doing nothing else +but poulticing and trying to give him a bit of ease! Or if we was both +like he is--me and he, too, a-setting by the fire and never able to do +anything for each other, whatever should us have done then? Only to +think of it. And there--it might ha' been; of course, it might ha' been. +What a mercy!" And Jennifer lifted up her hands. "What a mercy!" + +You complained of the miserable cottage. But Jennifer was ready to point +out its advantages, until the tumble-down place seemed to grow quite +considerate and kindly. + +"Well, you see it isn't half so bad as it _might_ be. The cracks don't +let the wind blow in where we do sit to. And the rain don't drip in +where we do sleep to. _That_ would be bad. And it _might_ ha' done; of +course, it _might_ ha' done. What a mercy!" And again Jennifer's hands +were uplifted. + +You began to pity her for the children's sake. But a merry laugh cut +that short in a moment. + +"Yes, I often think about that," laughed Jennifer, "_there might ha' +been fourteen of them_. And, bless you, whatever should I ha' done if +there had a-been fourteen!" And Jennifer lifted up her hands and laughed +again, and then slapped them down upon her knees. "Fourteen of them! +Why, where should us all have slept to? And think of the eating all +round, and the clothes and all. Fourteen! And it _might_ ha' been. What +a mercy!" + +[Illustration] + +You talked pathetically about her work in the fields--the dreariness of +it and the weariness, bending with hoe from morning to night; or +kneeling at the weeds till all the limbs ached. But Jennifer was more +than a match for you. "Ah, that's it. That's what I always say. To think +that it should be such hard work and all that, and that I should have +the strength for it. Now, if I was one of them sort that is always +ailin' and failin', instead of being so strong as a horse! And I _might_ +ha' been; of course, I _might_ ha' been. What a mercy! Why, there's some +as couldn't walk there and back, for 'tis sometimes three miles there +and three miles back, and there's some as couldn't do it when they got +there, for the weeds be terrible strong sometimes. And there's some as +couldn't bear it, east wind and rain and snow. And I _might_ ha' been +one of them sort. What a mercy!" + +This was Jennifer's philosophy. + + + + +Chapter III + + +Now it chanced one day that the little village in which Jennifer lived +was stirred by the ambition of the congregation to build a new chapel. +The old place was not good enough; not even large enough. A great +meeting was held, and the sluggish life of the place was quickened by a +sermon from a stranger in the afternoon, followed by a public tea +meeting. At night stirring speeches were made and various promises +given. The well-to-do and generous layman who acted as the father of a +group of village chapels in the district would give fifty pounds. One of +the farmers would cart the stones. Another would give the lime. Others +made promises that ranged down to a pound. There the line was drawn. +Those who could do less than that did not count. + +Jennifer managed to get to the meeting and sat delighted at the promises +of one and another, neither envying any nor even wishing that she could +do some great thing. + +"I will do what I can," she said, as she shook hands with the chairman +at the close of the meeting. + +"I am sure you will, Jennifer, your heart is good enough for anything," +said he tenderly, thinking within himself how much the least gift would +cost her. + +The next day Jennifer was off to the fields, and as she hoed the lines +of turnips she was talking to her self of the proposed new chapel. + +"Silver it must be, I am afraid; but it isn't the colour for Him. I +should like to give the Lord a bit of gold. If it isn't _that_ it must +be the biggest bit of silver there is." + +Then Jennifer went on hoeing the weeds to the tune of the hymn that she +hummed to herself: + + "Kings shall fall down before Him, + And gold and incense bring; + All nations shall adore Him, + His praise all people sing." + +The tune rang out cheerily on the breeze as she went on, and the words +got deeper down in her soul. For Jennifer boasted that she could sing. +"If I can't do anything else I can sing," she said. There was very often +a hymn on her lips and always one in her heart. She had her philosophy +about singing. "I am not going to be beat by the birds, and we are +nothing but a sort of creeping thing till we can sing. What's the good +of the blue sky above us if we can't fly up into it? And singing is +wings to my thinking." + + * * * * * + +Eight months had gone by, and the time had come for the opening of the +new chapel. + +Then it was that Jennifer came cautiously to her friend and asked to +speak to him privately. They went down the road together, and as soon as +they were past the houses of the village she stopped and took carefully +from her pocket a little piece of paper which she put into his hands. + +"There," she said, "that is for the new chapel." + +He opened it and found a half sovereign. "I am so glad to give a bit of +that colour, sir," and Jennifer's face beamed with joy. + +But the good man started, quite frightened. "I cannot take it, Jennifer. +Really I must not. Half a sovereign from you? No, it would not be +right." + +Jennifer pushed back his hand as he held it out to her. "Not take it!" +she cried. "But you must take it, sir; 'tis the Lord's." + +"But really you cannot afford it. It is very good of you." + +"But I _have_ afforded it, you see," she laughed; "and I am going to +afford another before I have done." + +He held the coin reluctantly in his hand. "It really hurts me to think +of it; and you so poor as you are." + +"Well, I am sorry to hurt anybody. But there's no need to be hurt about +it a bit. I thought when I rang out that half sovereign that it was the +prettiest music I ever heard, or shall hear till I get up among the +angels. And they don't have a chance of anything like that, I expect." +And she laughed again. + +"Well, Jennifer, I suppose I must take it," and he opened his collecting +book to enter the subscription with her name, but she checked him +instantly. + +"No, sir, no. You must put it in the box. I did not mean to let anybody +know, but I could not tell how to manage it. If I put it in the box my +own self, why some of them might see me, and then I was afraid they +might be after stopping my half a crown a week and my loaf of bread, +thinking that I had come into a fortune all of a sudden." And she +laughed again. + +"No, Jennifer; we must have it down among the subscriptions, and it +ought really to head the list. I will call it _Anonymous_, you know." + +"Oh, that's much too fine a name for Jennifer Petch. Call it '_Gold and +Incense_.' I _do_ know what that do mean, if anybody else don't," and +Jennifer laughed again. + +And so it was entered, and so it was duly announced. Jennifer blushed +and laughed so much when it was read that any suspicious person might +have found out her secret after all. But no one dreamed that this was +Jennifer's assumed name. + +It was not long before her good friend met with Jennifer again. + +"I can't get over that half-sovereign of yours, Jennifer," he began. "I +am really quite curious to know how you managed it. You will tell me, +won't you?" + +"Well, I s'pose I must," said Jennifer shyly; "but I meant to keep it +all to myself, you know. Nobody knows about it but you." + +"Well, then, I may know all, mayn't I?" + +Little by little it all came out. And this was Jennifer's story: + +"Well, it was the day after the meeting that I was singing to myself +the words,-- + + "Kings shall fall down before Him, + And gold and incense bring," + +when it seemed to me like as if I could see them coming like Solomon in +all his glory, and laying down their gifts at His dear feet; but, there, +you will be getting all my secret out of me. It must come, I s'pose. +Well, the tune and the words were sort of ringing in my head when I +turned round out of the wind for to--to---- You mustn't be hard on me. +It was to take a _pinch of snuff_." + +"Oh, Jennifer!" + +"It was only a penn'orth a week, sir," she pleaded, "And it did seem to +sharpen me up a bit out in the cold. Well, while I was taking it I +laughed to myself. 'That's the nearest to _incense_ that I can think +of,' I said. 'I will give that to the Lord.' And, bless you, sir, would +you believe it? I got to turning round out of the wind to make believe I +had it, and it did every bit so well. + +[Illustration] + +"The next Saturday, instead of giving the penny to a neighbour to get +the snuff into market, I put the penny into an old broken teapot, and +put it on top of the dresser, and I said, 'There's a nest egg, then.' +Well, I quite longed for the next Saturday to come, and then there was a +penny more. And in three weeks there was a threepenny bit. I did think +that was a prettier colour for the Lord, but, bless you, I liked the +three pennies better. + +"That tiny little threepenny bit in that great teapot! I was most ready +to cry for it in there all by its lonely little self. I couldn't help +thinking about it till it came to be almost like when I had to leave the +baby home and couldn't think of anything else, and thought I heard it +a-crying whenever so much as a lamb would bleat or a horniwink go crying +overhead.[A] + +[A] A horniwink is in that dialect a green plover or lapwing. + +"My heart sort of went out to the poor little threepenny bit. 'You shall +have company, my dear,' I said to myself, 'that you shall, before very +long.' + +"That night when I got home I was just going to get my cup o' tea, when +it came to my mind, 'There's company for the poor little thing.' At +first I tried to put away the thought, for I did dearly love my cup o' +tea. Coming home tired and wet and cold, it was wonderful how it used to +cheer and refresh a body. So I tried to think of something else. But the +more I tried the more I couldn't. At last I sat down by the bit of fire +and had it out with myself before I went to bed. + +"'You know,' I said to myself, 'a penny a week--what's that? Why, a +whole year will only come to less than a crown piece. Gold and incense +indeed, they are a long way off at that rate.' Then I got down the +broken teapot and looked in. I had to turn it round and round before I +could so much as see it. And when I did I was fair ashamed of myself. +'Poor little thing,' I said, 'and to think that you must wait three +weeks for company! No, you shan't.' + +"Well, I put it back again and then screwed up my courage to see what I +could make believe for tea. At last I thought I would toast some +crusties till they were nice and brown. Then I would pour the boiling +water on them. 'The colour will be right enough,' I said, 'but what +about the taste, I wonder? However, taste as they mind to, there's +threepence a week!' So I went to bed, and that night I dreamed that the +broken teapot was so full of sovereigns that I was quite frightened and +woke all of a tremble. + +"I dare say it didn't taste exactly right at the first going off. But +very soon I came to like it just as well. And I really do believe, +after all said and done, 'tis more strengthener and more nourishinger +than the tea. + +"So the next Saturday, instead of asking a neighbour to bring home an +ounce of tea, I put the threepenny bit in the broken teapot. And there +was fourpence a week. And I changed it into a shilling; and then it grew +into a half-crown; and last of all it came to _half a sovereign_. + +"I was glad to have a bit of that colour. It was years since I had so +much as seen one of them. 'Tis the only colour that is good enough for +Him. And I haven't done yet, please God. In eight months' time there +will be another, and that will make a whole sovereign. It isn't like +doing the thing at all to do it by halves. That is what I have set my +heart upon. That will be '_Gold and Incense--One Pound_.'" + + + + +Chapter IV + + +For days after hearing it her good friend could think of nothing but +Jennifer's story. His own gifts to the new chapel and that of the others +seemed poor and little beside her offering--it was the mite which was +more than they all had given. He felt that he could not rest until he +had found for her something better than the ill-paid toil in the fields. +As he rode on his way he chanced to see a notice announcing the sale of +a coppice of some twenty acres, freehold. Here was the opportunity of +serving Jennifer, and at once he made haste to avail himself of it. The +bit of ground was bought, coppice and all. Then he made his way to her +house. + +[Illustration] + +It was seldom that any one passed her cottage, and when he saw it he was +distressed and ashamed that he had not done anything for her before. + +Jennifer had just got home, tired and wet and cold. He came into the +cheerless place and sat down. + +"I had no idea that your cottage was in such a wretched state, Jennifer; +I wonder you could live in it," he began. + +"Well, 'tis wonderful how comfortable we do get on in it, sir." And +Jennifer spoke as cheerfully as ever. "I s'pose if it was better we +should have to pay more, so we must set one thing against another, you +know." + +"Well, I am going to build you another--a new one; I have made up my +mind to that. And look, Jennifer, you shall have it for your own as soon +as I can get it up, and you can pay me for it." + +"I daresay, sir," laughed Jennifer, and she wondered that her friend +could seem to joke on such a subject. + +"But I mean it," said he, "and, of course, I am going to put you in the +way to do it." + +"Thank you, sir," said Jennifer, quite unable to see any meaning in the +promise. "You see, there's the Guardians, what will they say and all if +I do go living in a fine new house?" + +"The Guardians! Oh, you must go and tell them that you don't want any +more of their money or their loaf either." + +"But, sir," said Jennifer, trying to laugh, yet almost too bewildered to +succeed, "half crowns and loaves of bread won't grow out of a new house +any more than an old one, you know." + +"Well, Jennifer, that is what I have come to see you about. Your boys +are growing up quite big lads now. What are you going to do with them? +What are they--twelve or thirteen years old at least?" + +"Just about, sir. I have given them so much head learning as I can. I +suppose they must be going out for to do something; but there, 'tis +terrible hard for to think about their going away." + +"Oh, but I don't think they need go away, Jennifer. I have come to tell +you that I have bought that piece of coppice over there. Now, what I +have been thinking is this. You and your boys can cut it all down, and +make up the faggots with the underwood, and sell it for what it will +fetch. That shall go toward the new cottage. And when the land is +cleared I will let it to you, and the boys can turn it into potato +ground." + +Poor Jennifer sat down without a word. She could not take it all in so +suddenly and it bewildered her. Clinging to the old ways of her life, +and satisfied with the simple round, she shrank from so large a venture, +involving so many changes. + +"Well, what do you say?" asked her friend, somewhat disappointed that +she did not see all the advantages which were so plain to him. + +"I don't know what to say, sir. 'Tis very kind of you. But----" + +"But what, Jennifer?" + +"I was going to say, if you don't mind, I should like one day more in +the fields to think it all over. 'Tis a wonderful place for thinking +about anything. And nobody but the heavenly Father to talk to." + +"Yes, Jennifer, take a day by all means." And he rose to go. "Only +remember that you will make out of the coppice more in a month than you +can make in the fields in a year; and be your own mistress, too, and +come and go as you like." + +"In a month!" she said gravely. "Then I am afraid I should be putting my +heart in the broken teapot, instead of my money." + +However, the next day's thought in the fields showed her a hundred +advantages for the boys in the proposal, whatever it might mean for her +husband and herself. And the cottage, too; the very suggestion of a new +one seemed to make the cracks bigger and the leaks worse. Something +would have to be done if she stayed there. So it was settled, yet not +without a sigh. This was to be her farewell of the fields. + +The sun was setting as she took up her hoe and turned homeward. At the +gate she stayed a minute or two, as if to say good-bye. To her eyes the +scene was almost sacred. There were the fields with all the young growth +of the early spring, and beyond this was the rough outline of the hedges +where the rabbits played. There were the hills where the brown trees +reached up to the firs, and from beyond which there often came the roar +of the ground swell when the great Atlantic breakers thundered on the +shore. The very birds had been her company and friends, and she loved +them every one--the lark that went soaring upward with an evening hymn; +the thrush and the blackbird that piped from the tree top; the rooks +that went slowly homeward, a very cloud in the sky, all had come as if +to solace and gladden her, and she blessed them all. Her heart went out +in thanks to God, as the memory of a thousand mercies rose within her. +She took the old worn mittens from her rough, red hands with a sigh, +and shut the gate as if she were shutting that chapter of her life. + + + + +Chapter V + + +But Jennifer found that it was more than a new chapter in her life--it +was a new world into which she stepped at once: a world where everything +was so much more than she ever dared to ask or think, that half the time +she was like one in a dream, and shook herself, as she said, to see if +she were really awake. Before she could get to her door, the lads came +rushing out to meet her with the news that a pair of leggings had come +for each of them, and a couple of billhooks; and there in all their +pride they stood, ready to go forth at once and cut down all the forests +of the world, if they had but the chance. And they must needs take their +mother, hungry and tired as she was, away to the edge of the coppice, to +show her the place that was cleared for their new cottage. Poor Jennifer +sighed a prayer that the Lord would keep her humble; worthy of it all +she felt she never could be. + +At dawn the next day the boys were up--men in the estimate of +themselves, and more than most men in their eagerness to get at the +work, sweetened as the thought of it was by the fact that every stroke +was to make the coming cottage their own. Breakfast to-day was a duty +somewhat begrudged. They were impatient of its delay. At last they were +off and at it, coat and waistcoat flung aside. + +An old labourer had been sent on that first day to direct them in the +work, for there are two ways even of cutting down a coppice--a right and +a wrong--and of tying faggots. But he got there only to find a good +half-day's work had somehow already been got through. + +But Jennifer herself never did so little. To her it was all so new and +strange that she could scarcely steady herself to do anything. In place +of the silent fields there came the cheery voices of her lads, and the +hacking of the billhook; then the bending of the tough boughs was new to +her, and the binding of the faggots. + +And underneath all was a certain glow of gladness that disturbed her. +She was so near home, and was now her own mistress too, that she could +not resist the temptation of going off to look after her "poor dear," as +she called her husband. + +[Illustration] + +And instead of hurrying back, she stayed to wrap him up, and then must +needs bring him out along the lane and over the thick bed of dead leaves +and through the rough undergrowth of the coppice to sit on the first +faggot that she had bound. And there she sat beside him, while the sun +peeped in at them between the young leaves; and the bold robin hopped up +to look at them in wonder; and all the birds sang to them, and the sweet +breath of things came with its benediction. Presently, as if ashamed of +herself, she hurried off to join the busy sons. Yet before long there +was Jennifer,--the hardest-working woman in the parish at other +times--creeping slyly over to have a cheery word with her husband, and +trying to amuse him by her skill in this craft, until her happy laughter +rang out upon the silence, and even he tried to join. In a day or two, +however, both mother and sons had got into the mysteries of the art; and +went on steadily clearing the place, amazing themselves and everybody +else at the speed with which the work was done. No hour seemed too early +to begin, and none too late to leave off. + +Soon there arrived the man who had bought the wood and faggots, and then +began the further mystery of accounts, each faggot duly entered and +each payment recorded. And Jennifer's pride found a new subject in the +cleverness of her sons, for the minutest matters seemed to require the +two heads to settle it. + +But now it was that there came Jennifer's great trouble. Such joy could +not fail to bring with it some bitterness somewhere. + +Three pounds an acre was the price to be given for the clearing. And +twenty acres came to nothing less than _sixty pounds_. + +To Jennifer, who had not seen a bit of gold for years until she had +given the half sovereign to the new chapel, it was really a terrible +thing to have to do with so much money. The little broken teapot looked +full, and the top of the dresser was no safe place in which to keep such +treasures. She could not sleep at night, but must needs get up and go +fumbling about to feel if it was all right. She dreaded to leave home, +and went back three or four times to see to her husband, she said; but +even he had to wait until she had looked at the teapot. The little that +she spent upon the household was a mere nothing. She feared to carry so +much all at once to her good friend to whom it was to be paid toward +the new cottage. At last the lads were sent off to him with a message +entreating him to come as soon as possible. "I shall go out of my mind +or into the 'sylum," Jennifer declared, and began to wish once more for +the sweet simplicity of the fields and her sixpence a day. However, that +trouble was soon done with, and time, the kindly healer of our griefs, +made even this tolerable. + +[Illustration] + +The work was by no means done when the coppice was cleared. Roots and +stumps had to be dug up, and the ground to be cleared for planting the +potatoes, and the seed had to be bought; in all of which her good +friend took as much interest as if it was his own, and more. And here +was a new lot of accounts to be duly recorded. Jennifer was glad to +leave all that to her boys, who sat every evening figuring away until +it seemed to her, as she looked over their shoulders, that they did more +business than all the rest of the world put together. + +[Illustration] + + + + +Chapter VI + + +It was five or six years afterwards that I saw Jennifer again. At that +time the coppice and cottage were her own freehold. The cottage was +covered with creepers: the little garden was full of fruit trees and +flowers. A row of beehives was ranged across one side of it. At the back +there strutted and clucked a great host of fowls. Farther away a dozen +pigs lay in their sties, and grunted their satisfaction with the best +possible of worlds. + +[Illustration] + +The potato ground was wonderful; no such potatoes grew anywhere else. +The soil, enriched by the decay of the woods for years, yielded +prolifically, and the first potatoes of the district that came to the +market were Mrs. Petch's, as they called her now. But Mrs. Petch herself +was just the same dear old Jennifer, as simple as of old. Her husband +had passed away; without pain he had sunk to rest. The lads were big, +broad-shouldered fellows who walked beside their little mother with more +pride of her than ever. + +At every collection now there is a bit of gold from somebody, and if it +ever has to be announced, it still is read out, "Gold and Incense." But +even gold has lost something of its charm to Jennifer, and on special +occasions she whispers, "No other colour is good enough for Him, except +it is a five-pound note." + +But there is one matter in which Jennifer sticks to her opinion and will +yield to nobody. + +"You may say what you mind to, after all said and done, crusties is more +nourishinger and strengthener than tea. I've a-tried both, and do know +_that_." + + +Butler & Tanner, Frome and London. + + + + + * * * * * + + + + +Transcriber's note: + + Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully + as possible, including non-standard spelling. + + The line + "Oh, Jennifer"! + was changed to + "Oh, Jennifer!" + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41870 *** |