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@@ -0,0 +1,6845 @@ +Project Gutenberg's At the Foot of the Rainbow, by Gene Stratton-Porter + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: At the Foot of the Rainbow + +Author: Gene Stratton-Porter + +Posting Date: September 13, 2008 [EBook #532] +Release Date: May, 1996 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW *** + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +At the Foot of the Rainbow + + +by + +Gene Stratton-Porter + + + + + "And the bow shall be set in the cloud; and I will look upon it, + that I may remember the everlasting covenant between God and + every living creature of all flesh that is upon the earth." + --GENESIS, ix-16. + + + + +Contents + + I. THE RAT-CATCHERS OF THE WABASH + II. RUBEN O'KHAYAM AND THE MILK PAIL + III. THE FIFTY COONS OF THE CANOPER + IV. WHEN THE KINGFISHER AND THE BLACK BASS CAME HOME + V. WHEN THE RAINBOW SET ITS ARCH IN THE SKY + VI. THE HEART OF MARY MALONE + VII. THE APPLE OF DISCORD BECOMES A JOINTED ROD + VIII. WHEN THE BLACK BASS STRUCK + IX. WHEN JIMMY MALONE CAME TO CONFESSION + X. DANNIE'S RENUNCIATION + XI. THE POT OF GOLD + + + + + +GENE STRATTON-PORTER + +A LITTLE STORY OF HER LIFE AND WORK + +For several years Doubleday, Page & Company have been receiving +repeated requests for information about the life and books of Gene +Stratton-Porter. Her fascinating nature work with bird, flower, and +moth, and the natural wonders of the Limberlost Swamp, made famous as +the scene of her nature romances, all have stirred much curiosity among +readers everywhere. + +Mrs. Porter did not possess what has been called "an aptitude for +personal publicity." Indeed, up to the present, she has discouraged +quite successfully any attempt to stress the personal note. It is +practically impossible, however, to do the kind of work she has +done--to make genuine contributions to natural science by her wonderful +field work among birds, insects, and flowers, and then, through her +romances, to bring several hundred thousands of people to love and +understand nature in a way they never did before--without arousing a +legitimate interest in her own history, her ideals, her methods of +work, and all that underlies the structure of her unusual achievement. + +Her publishers have felt the pressure of this growing interest and it +was at their request that she furnished the data for a biographical +sketch that was to be written of her. But when this actually came to +hand, the present compiler found that the author had told a story so +much more interesting than anything he could write of her, that it +became merely a question of how little need be added. + +The following pages are therefore adapted from what might be styled the +personal record of Gene Stratton-Porter. This will account for the very +intimate picture of family life in the Middle West for some years +following the Civil War. + +Mark Stratton, the father of Gene Stratton-Porter, described his wife, +at the time of their marriage, as a "ninety-pound bit of pink +porcelain, pink as a wild rose, plump as a partridge, having a big rope +of bright brown hair, never ill a day in her life, and bearing the +loveliest name ever given a woman--Mary." He further added that "God +fashioned her heart to be gracious, her body to be the mother of +children, and as her especial gift of Grace, he put Flower Magic into +her fingers." Mary Stratton was the mother of twelve lusty babies, all +of whom she reared past eight years of age, losing two a little over +that, through an attack of scarlet fever with whooping cough; too ugly +a combination for even such a wonderful mother as she. With this brood +on her hands she found time to keep an immaculate house, to set a table +renowned in her part of the state, to entertain with unfailing +hospitality all who came to her door, to beautify her home with such +means as she could command, to embroider and fashion clothing by hand +for her children; but her great gift was conceded by all to be the +making of things to grow. At that she was wonderful. She started dainty +little vines and climbing plants from tiny seeds she found in rice and +coffee. Rooted things she soaked in water, rolled in fine sand, planted +according to habit, and they almost never failed to justify her +expectations. She even grew trees and shrubs from slips and cuttings no +one else would have thought of trying to cultivate, her last resort +being to cut a slip diagonally, insert the lower end in a small potato, +and plant as if rooted. And it nearly always grew! + +There is a shaft of white stone standing at her head in a cemetery that +belonged to her on a corner of her husband's land; but to Mrs. Porter's +mind her mother's real monument is a cedar of Lebanon which she set in +the manner described above. The cedar tops the brow of a little hill +crossing the grounds. She carried two slips from Ohio, where they were +given to her by a man who had brought the trees as tiny things from the +holy Land. She planted both in this way, one in her dooryard and one in +her cemetery. The tree on the hill stands thirty feet tall now, topping +all others, and has a trunk two feet in circumference. + +Mrs. Porter's mother was of Dutch extraction, and like all Dutch women +she worked her special magic with bulbs, which she favoured above other +flowers. Tulips, daffodils, star flowers, lilies, dahlias, little +bright hyacinths, that she called "blue bells," she dearly loved. From +these she distilled exquisite perfume by putting clusters, & time of +perfect bloom, in bowls lined with freshly made, unsalted butter, +covering them closely, and cutting the few drops of extract thus +obtained with alcohol. "She could do more different things," says the +author, "and finish them all in a greater degree of perfection than any +other woman I have ever known. If I were limited to one adjective in +describing her, 'capable' would be the word." + +The author's father was descended from a long line of ancestors of +British blood. He was named for, and traced his origin to, that first +Mark Stratton who lived in New York, married the famous beauty, Anne +Hutchinson, and settled on Stratton Island, afterward corrupted to +Staten, according to family tradition. From that point back for +generations across the sea he followed his line to the family of +Strattons of which the Earl of Northbrooke is the present head. To his +British traditions and the customs of his family, Mark Stratton clung +with rigid tenacity, never swerving from his course a particle under +the influence of environment or association. All his ideas were +clear-cut; no man could influence him against his better judgment. He +believed in God, in courtesy, in honour, and cleanliness, in beauty, +and in education. He used to say that he would rather see a child of +his the author of a book of which he could be proud, than on the throne +of England, which was the strongest way he knew to express himself. His +very first earnings he spent for a book; when other men rested, he +read; all his life he was a student of extraordinarily tenacious +memory. He especially loved history: Rollands, Wilson's Outlines, Hume, +Macauley, Gibbon, Prescott, and Bancroft, he could quote from all of +them paragraphs at a time contrasting the views of different writers on +a given event, and remembering dates with unfailing accuracy. "He could +repeat the entire Bible," says Mrs. Stratton-Porter, "giving chapters +and verses, save the books of Generations; these he said 'were a waste +of gray matter to learn.' I never knew him to fail in telling where any +verse quoted to him was to be found in the Bible." And she adds: "I was +almost afraid to make these statements, although there are many living +who can corroborate them, until John Muir published the story of his +boyhood days, and in it I found the history of such rearing as was my +father's, told of as the customary thing among the children of Muir's +time; and I have referred many inquirers as to whether this feat were +possible, to the Muir book." + +All his life, with no thought of fatigue or of inconvenience to +himself, Mark Stratton travelled miles uncounted to share what he had +learned with those less fortunately situated, by delivering sermons, +lectures, talks on civic improvement and politics. To him the love of +God could be shown so genuinely in no other way as in the love of his +fellowmen. He worshipped beauty: beautiful faces, souls, hearts, +beautiful landscapes, trees, animals, flowers. He loved colour: rich, +bright colour, and every variation down to the faintest shadings. He +was especially fond of red, and the author carefully keeps a cardinal +silk handkerchief that he was carrying when stricken with apoplexy at +the age of seventy-eight. "It was so like him," she comments, "to have +that scrap of vivid colour in his pocket. He never was too busy to +fertilize a flower bed or to dig holes for the setting of a tree or +bush. A word constantly on his lips was 'tidy.' It applied equally to a +woman, a house, a field, or a barn lot. He had a streak of genius in +his make-up: the genius of large appreciation. Over inspired Biblical +passages, over great books, over sunlit landscapes, over a white violet +abloom in deep shade, over a heroic deed of man, I have seen his brow +light up, his eyes shine." + +Mrs. Porter tells us that her father was constantly reading aloud to +his children and to visitors descriptions of the great deeds of men. +Two "hair-raisers" she especially remembers with increased heart-beats +to this day were the story of John Maynard, who piloted a burning boat +to safety while he slowly roasted at the wheel. She says the old thrill +comes back when she recalls the inflection of her father's voice as he +would cry in imitation of the captain: "John Maynard!" and then give +the reply. "Aye, aye, sir!" His other until it sank to a mere gasp: +favourite was the story of Clemanthe, and her lover's immortal answer +to her question: "Shall we meet again?" + +To this mother at forty-six, and this father at fifty, each at +intellectual top-notch, every faculty having been stirred for years by +the dire stress of Civil War, and the period immediately following, the +author was born. From childhood she recalls "thinking things which she +felt should be saved," and frequently tugging at her mother's skirts +and begging her to "set down" what the child considered stories and +poems. Most of these were some big fact in nature that thrilled her, +usually expressed in Biblical terms; for the Bible was read twice a day +before the family and helpers, and an average of three services were +attended on Sunday. + +Mrs. Porter says that her first all-alone effort was printed in wabbly +letters on the fly-leaf of an old grammar. It was entitled: "Ode to the +Moon." "Not," she comments, "that I had an idea what an 'ode' was, +other than that I had heard it discussed in the family together with +different forms of poetic expression. The spelling must have been by +proxy: but I did know the words I used, what they meant, and the idea I +was trying to convey. + +"No other farm was ever quite so lovely as the one on which I was born +after this father and mother had spent twenty-five years beautifying +it," says the author. It was called "Hopewell" after the home of some +of her father's British ancestors. The natural location was perfect, +the land rolling and hilly, with several flowing springs and little +streams crossing it in three directions, while plenty of forest still +remained. The days of pioneer struggles were past. The roads were +smooth and level as floors, the house and barn commodious; the family +rode abroad in a double carriage trimmed in patent leather, drawn by a +matched team of gray horses, and sometimes the father "speeded a +little" for the delight of the children. "We had comfortable clothing," +says Mrs. Porter, "and were getting our joy from life without that +pinch of anxiety which must have existed in the beginning, although I +know that father and mother always held steady, and took a large +measure of joy from life in passing." + +Her mother's health, which always had been perfect, broke about the +time of the author's first remembrance due to typhoid fever contracted +after nursing three of her children through it. She lived for several +years, but with continual suffering, amounting at times to positive +torture. + +So it happened, that led by impulse and aided by an escape from the +training given her sisters, instead of "sitting on a cushion and sewing +a fine seam"--the threads of the fabric had to be counted and just so +many allowed to each stitch!--this youngest child of a numerous +household spent her waking hours with the wild. She followed her father +and the boys afield, and when tired out slept on their coats in fence +corners, often awaking with shy creatures peering into her face. She +wandered where she pleased, amusing herself with birds, flowers, +insects, and plays she invented. "By the day," writes the author, "I +trotted from one object which attracted me to another, singing a little +song of made-up phrases about everything I saw while I waded catching +fish, chasing butterflies over clover fields, or following a bird with +a hair in its beak; much of the time I carried the inevitable baby for +a woman-child, frequently improvised from an ear of corn in the silk, +wrapped in catalpa leaf blankets." + +She had a corner of the garden under a big Bartlett pear tree for her +very own, and each spring she began by planting radishes and lettuce +when the gardening was done; and before these had time to sprout she +set the same beds full of spring flowers, and so followed out the +season. She made special pets of the birds, locating nest after nest, +and immediately projecting herself into the daily life of the +occupants. "No one," she says, "ever taught me more than that the birds +were useful, a gift of God for our protection from insect pests on +fruit and crops; and a gift of Grace in their beauty and music, things +to be rigidly protected. From this cue I evolved the idea myself that I +must be extremely careful, for had not my father tied a 'kerchief over +my mouth when he lifted me for a peep into the nest of the +humming-bird, and did he not walk softly and whisper when he approached +the spot? So I stepped lightly, made no noise, and watched until I knew +what a mother bird fed her young before I began dropping bugs, worms, +crumbs, and fruit into little red mouths that opened at my tap on the +nest quite as readily as at the touch of the feet of the mother bird." + +In the nature of this child of the out-of-doors there ran a fibre of +care for wild things. It was instinct with her to go slowly, to touch +lightly, to deal lovingly with every living thing: flower, moth, bird, +or animal. She never gathered great handfuls of frail wild flowers, +carried them an hour and threw them away. If she picked any, she took +only a few, mostly to lay on her mother's pillow--for she had a habit +of drawing comfort from a cinnamon pink or a trillium laid where its +delicate fragrance reached her with every breath. "I am quite sure," +Mrs. Porter writes, "that I never in my life, in picking flowers, +dragged up the plant by the roots, as I frequently saw other people do. +I was taught from infancy to CUT a bloom I wanted. My regular habit was +to lift one plant of each kind, especially if it were a species new to +me, and set it in my wild-flower garden." + +To the birds and flowers the child added moths and butterflies, because +she saw them so frequently, the brilliance of colour in yard and garden +attracting more than could be found elsewhere. So she grew with the +wild, loving, studying, giving all her time. "I fed butterflies +sweetened water and rose leaves inside the screen of a cellar window," +Mrs. Porter tells us; "doctored all the sick and wounded birds and +animals the men brought me from afield; made pets of the baby squirrels +and rabbits they carried in for my amusement; collected wild flowers; +and as I grew older, gathered arrow points and goose quills for sale in +Fort Wayne. So I had the first money I ever earned." + +Her father and mother had strong artistic tendencies, although they +would have scoffed at the idea themselves, yet the manner in which they +laid off their fields, the home they built, the growing things they +preserved, the way they planted, the life they led, all go to prove +exactly that thing. Their bush--and vine-covered fences crept around +the acres they owned in a strip of gaudy colour; their orchard lay in a +valley, a square of apple trees in the centre widely bordered by peach, +so that it appeared at bloom time like a great pink-bordered white +blanket on the face of earth. Swale they might have drained, and would +not, made sheets of blue flag, marigold and buttercups. From the home +you could not look in any direction without seeing a picture of beauty. + +"Last spring," the author writes in a recent letter, "I went back with +my mind fully made up to buy that land at any reasonable price, restore +it to the exact condition in which I knew it as a child, and finish my +life there. I found that the house had been burned, killing all the big +trees set by my mother's hands immediately surrounding it. The hills +were shorn and ploughed down, filling and obliterating the creeks and +springs. Most of the forest had been cut, and stood in corn. My old +catalpa in the fence corner beside the road and the Bartlett pear under +which I had my wild-flower garden were all that was left of the +dooryard, while a few gnarled apple trees remained of the orchard, +which had been reset in another place. The garden had been moved, also +the lanes; the one creek remaining out of three crossed the meadow at +the foot of the orchard. It flowed a sickly current over a dredged bed +between bare, straight banks. The whole place seemed worse than a +dilapidated graveyard to me. All my love and ten times the money I had +at command never could have put back the face of nature as I knew it on +that land." + +As a child the author had very few books, only three of her own outside +of school books. "The markets did not afford the miracles common with +the children of today," she adds. "Books are now so numerous, so cheap, +and so bewildering in colour and make-up, that I sometimes think our +children are losing their perspective and caring for none of them as I +loved my few plain little ones filled with short story and poem, almost +no illustration. I had a treasure house in the school books of my +elders, especially the McGuffey series of Readers from One to Six. For +pictures I was driven to the Bible, dictionary, historical works read +by my father, agricultural papers, and medical books about cattle and +sheep. + +"Near the time of my mother's passing we moved from Hopewell to the +city of Wabash in order that she might have constant medical attention, +and the younger children better opportunities for schooling. Here we +had magazines and more books in which I was interested. The one volume +in which my heart was enwrapt was a collection of masterpieces of +fiction belonging to my eldest sister. It contained 'Paul and +Virginia,' 'Undine,' 'Picciola,' 'The Vicar of Wakefield,' 'Pilgrim's +Progress,' and several others I soon learned by heart, and the reading +and rereading of those exquisitely expressed and conceived stories may +have done much in forming high conceptions of what really constitutes +literature and in furthering the lofty ideals instilled by my parents. +One of these stories formed the basis of my first publicly recognized +literary effort." + +Reared by people who constantly pointed out every natural beauty, using +it wherever possible to drive home a precept, the child lived +out-of-doors with the wild almost entirely. If she reported promptly +three times a day when the bell rang at meal time, with enough clothing +to constitute a decent covering, nothing more was asked until the +Sabbath. To be taken from such freedom, her feet shod, her body +restricted by as much clothing as ever had been worn on Sunday, shut up +in a schoolroom, and set to droning over books, most of which she +detested, was the worst punishment ever inflicted upon her she +declares. She hated mathematics in any form and spent all her time on +natural science, language, and literature. "Friday afternoon," writes +Mrs. Porter, "was always taken up with an exercise called +'rhetoricals,' a misnomer as a rule, but let that pass. Each week +pupils of one of the four years furnished entertainment for the +assembled high school and faculty. Our subjects were always assigned, +and we cordially disliked them. This particular day I was to have a +paper on 'Mathematical Law.' + +"I put off the work until my paper had been called for several times, +and so came to Thursday night with excuses and not a line. I was told +to bring my work the next morning without fail. I went home in hot +anger. Why in all this beautiful world, would they not allow me to do +something I could do, and let any one of four members of my class who +revelled in mathematics do my subject? That evening I was distracted. +'I can't do a paper on mathematics, and I won't!' I said stoutly; 'but +I'll do such a paper on a subject I can write about as will open their +foolish eyes and make them see how wrong they are.'" + +Before me on the table lay the book I loved, the most wonderful story +in which was 'Picciola' by Saintine. Instantly I began to write. +Breathlessly I wrote for hours. I exceeded our limit ten times over. +The poor Italian Count, the victim of political offences, shut by +Napoleon from the wonderful grounds, mansion, and life that were his, +restricted to the bare prison walls of Fenestrella, deprived of books +and writing material, his one interest in life became a sprout of +green, sprung, no doubt, from a seed dropped by a passing bird, between +the stone flagging of the prison yard before his window. With him I had +watched over it through all the years since I first had access to the +book; with him I had prayed for it. I had broken into a cold sweat of +fear when the jailer first menaced it; I had hated the wind that bent +it roughly, and implored the sun. I had sung a paean of joy at its +budding, and worshipped in awe before its thirty perfect blossoms. The +Count had named it 'Picciola'--the little one--to me also it was a +personal possession. That night we lived the life of our 'little one' +over again, the Count and I, and never were our anxieties and our joys +more poignant. + +"Next morning," says Mrs. Porter, "I dared my crowd to see how long +they could remain on the grounds, and yet reach the assembly room +before the last toll of the bell. This scheme worked. Coming in so late +the principal opened exercises without remembering my paper. Again, at +noon, I was as late as I dared be, and I escaped until near the close +of the exercises, through which I sat in cold fear. When my name was +reached at last the principal looked at me inquiringly and then +announced my inspiring mathematical subject. I arose, walked to the +front, and made my best bow. Then I said: 'I waited until yesterday +because I knew absolutely nothing about my subject'--the audience +laughed--'and I could find nothing either here or in the library at +home, so last night I reviewed Saintine's masterpiece, "Picciola."' + +"Then instantly I began to read. I was almost paralyzed at my audacity, +and with each word I expected to hear a terse little interruption. +Imagine my amazement when I heard at the end of the first page: 'Wait a +minute!' Of course I waited, and the principal left the room. A moment +later she reappeared accompanied by the superintendent of the city +schools. 'Begin again,' she said. 'Take your time.' + +"I was too amazed to speak. Then thought came in a rush. My paper was +good. It was as good as I had believed it. It was better than I had +known. I did go on! We took that assembly room and the corps of +teachers into our confidence, the Count and I, and told them all that +was in our hearts about a little flower that sprang between the paving +stones of a prison yard. The Count and I were free spirits. From the +book I had learned that. He got into political trouble through it, and +I had got into mathematical trouble, and we told our troubles. One +instant the room was in laughter, the next the boys bowed their heads, +and the girls who had forgotten their handkerchiefs cried in their +aprons. For almost sixteen big foolscap pages I held them, and I was +eager to go on and tell them more about it when I reached the last +line. Never again was a subject forced upon me." + +After this incident of her schooldays, what had been inclination before +was aroused to determination and the child neglected her lessons to +write. A volume of crude verse fashioned after the metre of Meredith's +"Lucile," a romantic book in rhyme, and two novels were the fruits of +this youthful ardour. Through the sickness and death of a sister, the +author missed the last three months of school, but, she remarks, +"unlike my schoolmates, I studied harder after leaving school than ever +before and in a manner that did me real good. The most that can be said +of what education I have is that it is the very best kind in the world +for me; the only possible kind that would not ruin a person of my +inclinations. The others of my family had been to college; I always +have been too thankful for words that circumstances intervened which +saved my brain from being run through a groove in company with dozens +of others of widely different tastes and mentality. What small measure +of success I have had has come through preserving my individual point +of view, method of expression, and following in after life the Spartan +regulations of my girlhood home. Whatever I have been able to do, has +been done through the line of education my father saw fit to give me, +and through his and my mother's methods of rearing me. + +"My mother went out too soon to know, and my father never saw one of +the books; but he knew I was boiling and bubbling like a yeast jar in +July over some literary work, and if I timidly slipped to him with a +composition, or a faulty poem, he saw good in it, and made suggestions +for its betterment. When I wanted to express something in colour, he +went to an artist, sketched a design for an easel, personally +superintended the carpenter who built it, and provided tuition. On that +same easel I painted the water colours for 'Moths of the Limberlost,' +and one of the most poignant regrets of my life is that he was not +there to see them, and to know that the easel which he built through +his faith in me was finally used in illustrating a book. + +"If I thought it was music through which I could express myself, he +paid for lessons and detected hidden ability that should be developed. +Through the days of struggle he stood fast; firm in his belief in me. +He was half the battle. It was he who demanded a physical standard that +developed strength to endure the rigours of scientific field and +darkroom work, and the building of ten books in ten years, five of +which were on nature subjects, having my own illustrations, and five +novels, literally teeming with natural history, true to nature. It was +he who demanded of me from birth the finishing of any task I attempted +and who taught me to cultivate patience to watch and wait, even years, +if necessary, to find and secure material I wanted. It was he who daily +lived before me the life of exactly such a man as I portrayed in 'The +Harvester,' and who constantly used every atom of brain and body power +to help and to encourage all men to do the same." + +Marriage, a home of her own, and a daughter for a time filled the +author's hands, but never her whole heart and brain. The book fever lay +dormant a while, and then it became a compelling influence. It +dominated the life she lived, the cabin she designed for their home, +and the books she read. When her daughter was old enough to go to +school, Mrs. Porter's time came. Speaking of this period, she says: "I +could not afford a maid, but I was very strong, vital to the marrow, +and I knew how to manage life to make it meet my needs, thanks to even +the small amount I had seen of my mother. I kept a cabin of fourteen +rooms, and kept it immaculate. I made most of my daughter's clothes, I +kept a conservatory in which there bloomed from three to six hundred +bulbs every winter, tended a house of canaries and linnets, and cooked +and washed dishes besides three times a day. In my spare time (mark the +word, there was time to spare else the books never would have been +written and the pictures made) I mastered photography to such a degree +that the manufacturers of one of our finest brands of print paper once +sent the manager of their factory to me to learn how I handled it. He +frankly said that they could obtain no such results with it as I did. +He wanted to see my darkroom, examine my paraphernalia, and have me +tell him exactly how I worked. As I was using the family bathroom for a +darkroom and washing negatives and prints on turkey platters in the +kitchen, I was rather put to it when it came to giving an exhibition. +It was scarcely my fault if men could not handle the paper they +manufactured so that it produced the results that I obtained, so I said +I thought the difference might lie in the chemical properties of the +water, and sent this man on his way satisfied. Possibly it did. But I +have a shrewd suspicion it lay in high-grade plates, a careful +exposure, judicious development, with self-compounded chemicals +straight from the factory, and C.P. I think plates swabbed with wet +cotton before development, intensified if of short exposure, and +thoroughly swabbed again before drying, had much to do with it; and +paper handled in the same painstaking manner had more. I have hundreds +of negatives in my closet made twelve years ago, in perfect condition +for printing from to-day, and I never have lost a plate through fog +from imperfect development and hasty washing; so my little mother's +rule of 'whatsoever thy hands find to do, do it with thy might,' held +good in photography." + +Thus had Mrs. Porter made time to study and to write, and editors began +to accept what she sent them with little if any changes. She began by +sending photographic and natural history hints to Recreation, and with +the first installment was asked to take charge of the department and +furnish material each month for which she was to be paid at current +prices in high-grade photographic material. We can form some idea of +the work she did under this arrangement from the fact that she had over +one thousand dollars' worth of equipment at the end of the first year. +The second year she increased this by five hundred, and then accepted a +place on the natural history staff of Outing, working closely with Mr. +Casper Whitney. After a year of this helpful experience Mrs. Porter +began to turn her attention to what she calls "nature studies sugar +coated with fiction." Mixing some childhood fact with a large degree of +grown-up fiction, she wrote a little story entitled "Laddie, the +Princess, and the Pie." + +"I was abnormally sensitive," says the author, "about trying to +accomplish any given thing and failing. I had been taught in my home +that it was black disgrace to undertake anything and fail. My husband +owned a drug and book store that carried magazines, and it was not +possible to conduct departments in any of them and not have it known; +but only a few people in our locality read these publications, none of +them were interested in nature photography, or natural science, so what +I was trying to do was not realized even by my own family. + +"With them I was much more timid than with the neighbours. Least of all +did I want to fail before my man Person and my daughter and our +respective families; so I worked in secret, sent in my material, and +kept as quiet about it as possible. On Outing I had graduated from the +camera department to an illustrated article each month, and as this +kept up the year round, and few illustrations could be made in winter, +it meant that I must secure enough photographs of wild life in summer +to last during the part of the year when few were to be had. + +"Every fair day I spent afield, and my little black horse and load of +cameras, ropes, and ladders became a familiar sight to the country folk +of the Limberlost, in Rainbow Bottom, the Canoper, on the banks of the +Wabash, in woods and thickets and beside the roads; but few people +understood what I was trying to do, none of them what it would mean +were I to succeed. Being so afraid of failure and the inevitable +ridicule in a community where I was already severly criticised on +account of my ideas of housekeeping, dress, and social customs, I +purposely kept everything I did as quiet as possible. It had to be +known that I was interested in everything afield, and making pictures; +also that I was writing field sketches for nature publications, but +little was thought of it, save as one more, peculiarity, in me. So when +my little story was finished I went to our store and looked over the +magazines. I chose one to which we did not subscribe, having an +attractive cover, good type, and paper, and on the back of an old +envelope, behind the counter, I scribbled: Perriton Maxwell, 116 Nassau +Street, New York, and sent my story on its way. + +"Then I took a bold step, the first in my self-emancipation. Money was +beginning to come in, and I had some in my purse of my very own that I +had earned when no one even knew I was working. I argued that if I kept +my family so comfortable that they missed nothing from their usual +routine, it was my right to do what I could toward furthering my +personal ambitions in what time I could save from my housework. And +until I could earn enough to hire capable people to take my place, I +held rigidly to that rule. I who waded morass, fought quicksands, +crept, worked from ladders high in air, and crossed water on improvised +rafts without a tremor, slipped with many misgivings into the +postoffice and rented a box for myself, so that if I met with failure +my husband and the men in the bank need not know what I had attempted. +That was early May; all summer I waited. I had heard that it required a +long time for an editor to read and to pass on matter sent him; but my +waiting did seem out of all reason. I was too busy keeping my cabin and +doing field work to repine; but I decided in my own mind that Mr. +Maxwell was a 'mean old thing' to throw away my story and keep the +return postage. Besides, I was deeply chagrined, for I had thought +quite well of my effort myself, and this seemed to prove that I did not +know even the first principles of what would be considered an +interesting story. + +"Then one day in September I went into our store on an errand and the +manager said to me: 'I read your story in the Metropolitan last night. +It was great! Did you ever write any fiction before?' + +"My head whirled, but I had learned to keep my own counsels, so I said +as lightly as I could, while my heart beat until I feared he could hear +it: 'No. Just a simple little thing! Have you any spare copies? My +sister might want one.' + +"He supplied me, so I hurried home, and shutting myself in the library, +I sat down to look my first attempt at fiction in the face. I quite +agreed with the manager that it was 'great.' Then I wrote Mr. Maxwell a +note telling him that I had seen my story in his magazine, and saying +that I was glad he liked it enough to use it. I had not known a letter +could reach New York and bring a reply so quickly as his answer came. +It was a letter that warmed the deep of my heart. Mr. Maxwell wrote +that he liked my story very much, but the office boy had lost or +destroyed my address with the wrappings, so after waiting a reasonable +length of time to hear from me, he had illustrated it the best he +could, and printed it. He wrote that so many people had spoken to him +of a new, fresh note in it, that he wished me to consider doing him +another in a similar vein for a Christmas leader and he enclosed my +very first check for fiction. + +"So I wrote: 'How Laddie and the Princess Spelled Down at the Christmas +Bee.' Mr. Maxwell was pleased to accept that also, with what I +considered high praise, and to ask me to furnish the illustrations. He +specified that he wanted a frontispiece, head and tail pieces, and six +or seven other illustrations. Counting out the time for his letter to +reach me, and the material to return, I was left with just ONE day in +which to secure the pictures. They had to be of people costumed in the +time of the early seventies and I was short of print paper and +chemicals. First, I telephoned to Fort Wayne for the material I wanted +to be sent without fail on the afternoon train. Then I drove to the +homes of the people I wished to use for subjects and made appointments +for sittings, and ransacked the cabin for costumes. The letter came on +the eight A.M. train. At ten o'clock I was photographing Colonel Lupton +beside my dining-room fireplace for the father in the story. At eleven +I was dressing and posing Miss Lizzie Huart for the princess. At twelve +I was picturing in one of my bed rooms a child who served finely for +Little Sister, and an hour later the same child in a cemetery three +miles in the country where I used mounted butterflies from my cases, +and potted plants carried from my conservatory, for a graveyard scene. +The time was early November, but God granted sunshine that day, and +short focus blurred the background. At four o'clock I was at the +schoolhouse, and in the best-lighted room with five or six models, I +was working on the spelling bee scenes. By six I was in the darkroom +developing and drying these plates, every one of which was good enough +to use. I did my best work with printing-out paper, but I was compelled +to use a developing paper in this extremity, because it could be worked +with much more speed, dried a little between blotters, and mounted. At +three o'clock in the morning I was typing the quotations for the +pictures, at four the parcel stood in the hall for the six o'clock +train, and I realized that I wanted a drink, food, and sleep, for I had +not stopped a second for anything from the time of reading Mr. +Maxwell's letter until his order was ready to mail. For the following +ten years I was equally prompt in doing all work I undertook, whether +pictures or manuscript, without a thought of consideration for self; +and I disappointed the confident expectations of my nearest and dearest +by remaining sane, normal, and almost without exception the healthiest +woman they knew." + +This story and its pictures were much praised, and in the following +year the author was asked for several stories, and even used bird +pictures and natural history sketches, quite an innovation for a +magazine at that time. With this encouragement she wrote and +illustrated a short story of about ten thousand words, and sent it to +the Century. Richard Watson Gilder advised Mrs. Porter to enlarge it to +book size, which she did. This book is "The Cardinal." Following Mr. +Gilder's advice, she recast the tale and, starting with the mangled +body of a cardinal some marksman had left in the road she was +travelling, in a fervour of love for the birds and indignation at the +hunter, she told the Cardinal's life history in these pages. + +The story was promptly accepted and the book was published with very +beautiful half-tones, and cardinal buckram cover. Incidentally, neither +the author's husband nor daughter had the slightest idea she was +attempting to write a book until work had progressed to that stage +where she could not make a legal contract without her husband's +signature. During the ten years of its life this book has gone through +eight different editions, varying in form and make-up from the birds in +exquisite colour, as colour work advanced and became feasible, to a +binding of beautiful red morocco, a number of editions of differing +design intervening. One was tried in gray binding, the colour of the +female cardinal, with the red male used as an inset. Another was +woodsgreen with the red male, and another red with a wild rose design +stamped in. There is a British edition published by Hodder and +Stoughton. All of these had the author's own illustrations which +authorities agree are the most complete studies of the home life and +relations of a pair of birds ever published. + +The story of these illustrations in "The Cardinal" and how the author +got them will be a revelation to most readers. Mrs. Porter set out to +make this the most complete set of bird illustrations ever secured, in +an effort to awaken people to the wonder and beauty and value of the +birds. She had worked around half a dozen nests for two years and had +carried a lemon tree from her conservatory to the location of one nest, +buried the tub, and introduced the branches among those the birds used +in approaching their home that she might secure proper illustrations +for the opening chapter, which was placed in the South. When the +complete bird series was finished, the difficult work over, and there +remained only a few characteristic Wabash River studies of flowers, +vines, and bushes for chapter tail pieces to be secured, the author +"met her Jonah," and her escape was little short of a miracle. + +After a particularly strenuous spring afield, one teeming day in early +August she spent the morning in the river bottom beside the Wabash. A +heavy rain followed by August sun soon had her dripping while she made +several studies of wild morning glories, but she was particularly +careful to wrap up and drive slowly going home, so that she would not +chill. In the afternoon the author went to the river northeast of town +to secure mallow pictures for another chapter, and after working in +burning sun on the river bank until exhausted, she several times waded +the river to examine bushes on the opposite bank. On the way home she +had a severe chill, and for the following three weeks lay twisted in +the convulsions of congestion, insensible most of the time. Skilled +doctors and nurses did their best, which they admitted would have +availed nothing if the patient had not had a constitution without a +flaw upon which to work. + +"This is the history," said Mrs. Porter, "of one little tail piece +among the pictures. There were about thirty others, none so strenuous, +but none easy, each having a living, fighting history for me. If I were +to give in detail the story of the two years' work required to secure +the set of bird studies illustrating 'The Cardinal,' it would make a +much larger book than the life of the bird." + +"The Cardinal" was published in June of 1903. On the 20th of October, +1904, "Freckles" appeared. Mrs. Porter had been delving afield with all +her heart and strength for several years, and in the course of her work +had spent every other day for three months in the Limberlost swamp, +making a series of studies of the nest of a black vulture. Early in her +married life she had met a Scotch lumberman, who told her of the swamp +and of securing fine timber there for Canadian shipbuilders, and later +when she had moved to within less than a mile of its northern boundary, +she met a man who was buying curly maple, black walnut, golden oak, +wild cherry, and other wood extremely valuable for a big furniture +factory in Grand Rapids. There was one particular woman, of all those +the author worked among, who exercised herself most concerning her. She +never failed to come out if she saw her driving down the lane to the +woods, and caution her to be careful. If she felt that Mrs. Porter had +become interested and forgotten that it was long past meal time, she +would send out food and water or buttermilk to refresh her. She had her +family posted, and if any of them saw a bird with a straw or a hair in +its beak, they followed until they found its location. It was her +husband who drove the stake and ploughed around the killdeer nest in +the cornfield to save it for the author; and he did many other acts of +kindness without understanding exactly what he was doing or why. +"Merely that I wanted certain things was enough for those people," +writes Mrs. Porter. "Without question they helped me in every way their +big hearts could suggest to them, because they loved to be kind, and to +be generous was natural with them. The woman was busy keeping house and +mothering a big brood, and every living creature that came her way, +besides. She took me in, and I put her soul, body, red head, and all, +into Sarah Duncan. The lumber and furniture man I combined in McLean. +Freckles was a composite of certain ideals and my own field +experiences, merged with those of Mr. Bob Burdette Black, who, at the +expense of much time and careful work, had done more for me than any +other ten men afield. The Angel was an idealized picture of my daughter. + +"I dedicated the book to my husband, Mr. Charles Darwin Porter, for +several reasons, the chiefest being that he deserved it. When word was +brought me by lumbermen of the nest of the Black Vulture in the +Limberlost, I hastened to tell my husband the wonderful story of the +big black bird, the downy white baby, the pale blue egg, and to beg +back a rashly made promise not to work in the Limberlost. Being a +natural history enthusiast himself, he agreed that I must go; but he +qualified the assent with the proviso that no one less careful of me +than he, might accompany me there. His business had forced him to allow +me to work alone, with hired guides or the help of oilmen and farmers +elsewhere; but a Limberlost trip at that time was not to be joked +about. It had not been shorn, branded, and tamed. There were most +excellent reasons why I should not go there. Much of it was +impenetrable. Only a few trees had been taken out; oilmen were just +invading it. In its physical aspect it was a treacherous swamp and +quagmire filled with every plant, animal, and human danger known in the +worst of such locations in the Central States. + +"A rod inside the swamp on a road leading to an oil well we mired to +the carriage hubs. I shielded my camera in my arms and before we +reached the well I thought the conveyance would be torn to pieces and +the horse stalled. At the well we started on foot, Mr. Porter in +kneeboots, I in waist-high waders. The time was late June; we forced +our way between steaming, fetid pools, through swarms of gnats, flies, +mosquitoes, poisonous insects, keeping a sharp watch for rattlesnakes. +We sank ankle deep at every step, and logs we thought solid broke under +us. Our progress was a steady succession of prying and pulling each +other to the surface. Our clothing was wringing wet, and the exposed +parts of our bodies lumpy with bites and stings. My husband found the +tree, cleared the opening to the great prostrate log, traversed its +unspeakable odours for nearly forty feet to its farthest recess, and +brought the baby and egg to the light in his leaf-lined hat. + +"We could endure the location only by dipping napkins in deodorant and +binding them over our mouths and nostrils. Every third day for almost +three months we made this trip, until Little Chicken was able to take +wing. Of course we soon made a road to the tree, grew accustomed to the +disagreeable features of the swamp and contemptuously familiar with its +dangers, so that I worked anywhere in it I chose with other assistance; +but no trip was so hard and disagreeable as the first. Mr. Porter +insisted upon finishing the Little Chicken series, so that 'deserve' is +a poor word for any honour that might accrue to him for his part in the +book." + +This was the nucleus of the book, but the story itself originated from +the fact that one day, while leaving the swamp, a big feather with a +shaft over twenty inches long came spinning and swirling earthward and +fell in the author's path. Instantly she looked upward to locate the +bird, which from the size and formation of the quill could have been +nothing but an eagle; her eyes, well trained and fairly keen though +they were, could not see the bird, which must have been soaring above +range. Familiar with the life of the vulture family, the author changed +the bird from which the feather fell to that described in "Freckles." +Mrs. Porter had the old swamp at that time practically untouched, and +all its traditions to work upon and stores of natural history material. +This falling feather began the book which in a few days she had +definitely planned and in six months completely written. Her title for +it was "The Falling Feather," that tangible thing which came drifting +down from Nowhere, just as the boy came, and she has always regretted +the change to "Freckles." John Murray publishes a British edition of +this book which is even better liked in Ireland and Scotland than in +England. + +As "The Cardinal" was published originally not by Doubleday, Page & +Company, but by another firm, the author had talked over with the +latter house the scheme of "Freckles" and it had been agreed to publish +the story as soon as Mrs. Porter was ready. How the book finally came +to Doubleday, Page & Company she recounts as follows: + +"By the time 'Freckles' was finished, I had exercised my woman's +prerogative and 'changed my mind'; so I sent the manuscript to +Doubleday, Page & Company, who accepted it. They liked it well enough +to take a special interest in it and to bring it out with greater +expense than it was at all customary to put upon a novel at that time; +and this in face of the fact that they had repeatedly warned me that +the nature work in it would kill fully half its chances with the +public. Mr. F.N. Doubleday, starting on a trip to the Bahamas, remarked +that he would like to take a manuscript with him to read, and the +office force decided to put 'Freckles' into his grip. The story of the +plucky young chap won his way to the heart of the publishers, under a +silk cotton tree, 'neath bright southern skies, and made such a friend +of him that through the years of its book-life it has been the object +of special attention. Mr. George Doran gave me a photograph which Mr. +Horace MacFarland made of Mr. Doubleday during this reading of the Mss. +of 'Freckles' which is especially interesting." + +That more than 2,000,000 readers have found pleasure and profit in Mrs. +Porter's books is a cause for particular gratification. These stories +all have, as a fundamental reason of their existence, the author's +great love of nature. To have imparted this love to others--to have +inspired many hundreds of thousands to look for the first time with +seeing eyes at the pageant of the out-of-doors--is a satisfaction that +must endure. For the part of the publishers, they began their business +by issuing "Nature Books" at a time when the sale of such works was +problematical. As their tastes and inclinations were along the same +lines which Mrs. Porter loved to follow, it gave them great pleasure to +be associated with her books which opened the eyes of so great a public +to new and worthy fields of enjoyment. + +The history of "Freckles" is unique. The publishers had inserted +marginal drawings on many pages, but these, instead of attracting +attention to the nature charm of the book, seemed to have exactly a +contrary effect. The public wanted a novel. The illustrations made it +appear to be a nature book, and it required three long slow years for +"Freckles" to pass from hand to hand and prove that there really was a +novel between the covers, but that it was a story that took its own +time and wound slowly toward its end, stopping its leisurely course for +bird, flower, lichen face, blue sky, perfumed wind, and the closest +intimacies of the daily life of common folk. Ten years have wrought a +great change in the sentiment against nature work and the interest in +it. Thousands who then looked upon the world with unobserving eyes are +now straining every nerve to accumulate enough to be able to end life +where they may have bird, flower, and tree for daily companions. + +Mrs. Porter's account of the advice she received at this time is +particularly interesting. Three editors who read "Freckles" before it +was published offered to produce it, but all of them expressed +precisely the same opinion: "The book will never sell well as it is. If +you want to live from the proceeds of your work, if you want to sell +even moderately, you must CUT OUT THE NATURE STUFF." "Now to PUT IN THE +NATURE STUFF," continues the author, "was the express purpose for which +the book had been written. I had had one year's experience with 'The +Song of the Cardinal,' frankly a nature book, and from the start I +realized that I never could reach the audience I wanted with a book on +nature alone. To spend time writing a book based wholly upon human +passion and its outworking I would not. So I compromised on a book into +which I put all the nature work that came naturally within its scope, +and seasoned it with little bits of imagination and straight copy from +the lives of men and women I had known intimately, folk who lived in a +simple, common way with which I was familiar. So I said to my +publishers: 'I will write the books exactly as they take shape in my +mind. You publish them. I know they will sell enough that you will not +lose. If I do not make over six hundred dollars on a book I shall never +utter a complaint. Make up my work as I think it should be and leave it +to the people as to what kind of book they will take into their hearts +and homes.' I altered 'Freckles' slightly, but from that time on we +worked on this agreement. + +"My years of nature work have not been without considerable insight +into human nature, as well," continues Mrs. Porter. "I know its +failings, its inborn tendencies, its weaknesses, its failures, its +depth of crime; and the people who feel called upon to spend their time +analyzing, digging into, and uncovering these sources of depravity have +that privilege, more's the pity! If I had my way about it, this is a +privilege no one could have in books intended for indiscriminate +circulation. I stand squarely for book censorship, and I firmly believe +that with a few more years of such books, as half a dozen I could +mention, public opinion will demand this very thing. My life has been +fortunate in one glad way: I have lived mostly in the country and +worked in the woods. For every bad man and woman I have ever known, I +have met, lived with, and am intimately acquainted with an overwhelming +number of thoroughly clean and decent people who still believe in God +and cherish high ideals, and it is UPON THE LIVES OF THESE THAT I BASE +WHAT I WRITE. To contend that this does not produce a picture true to +life is idiocy. It does. It produces a picture true to ideal life; to +the best that good men and good women can do at level best. + +"I care very little for the magazine or newspaper critics who proclaim +that there is no such thing as a moral man, and that my pictures of +life are sentimental and idealized. They are! And I glory in them! They +are straight, living pictures from the lives of men and women of +morals, honour, and loving kindness. They form 'idealized pictures of +life' because they are copies from life where it touches religion, +chastity, love, home, and hope of heaven ultimately. None of these +roads leads to publicity and the divorce court. They all end in the +shelter and seclusion of a home. + +"Such a big majority of book critics and authors have begun to teach, +whether they really believe it or not, that no book is TRUE TO LIFE +unless it is true to the WORST IN LIFE, that the idea has infected even +the women." + +In 1906, having seen a few of Mrs. Porter's studies of bird life, Mr. +Edward Bok telegraphed the author asking to meet him in Chicago. She +had a big portfolio of fine prints from plates for which she had gone +to the last extremity of painstaking care, and the result was an order +from Mr. Bok for a six months' series in the Ladies' Home Journal of +the author's best bird studies accompanied by descriptions of how she +secured them. This material was later put in book form under the title, +"What I Have Done with Birds," and is regarded as authoritative on the +subject of bird photography and bird life, for in truth it covers every +phase of the life of the birds described, and contains much of other +nature subjects. + +By this time Mrs. Porter had made a contract with her publishers to +alternate her books. She agreed to do a nature book for love, and then, +by way of compromise, a piece of nature work spiced with enough fiction +to tempt her class of readers. In this way she hoped that they would +absorb enough of the nature work while reading the fiction to send them +afield, and at the same time keep in their minds her picture of what +she considers the only life worth living. She was still assured that +only a straight novel would "pay," but she was living, meeting all her +expenses, giving her family many luxuries, and saving a little sum for +a rainy day she foresaw on her horoscope. To be comfortably clothed and +fed, to have time and tools for her work, is all she ever has asked of +life. + +Among Mrs. Porter's readers "At the Foot of the Rainbow" stands as +perhaps the author's strongest piece of fiction. + +In August of 1909 two books on which the author had been working for +years culminated at the same time: a nature novel, and a straight +nature book. The novel was, in a way, a continuation of "Freckles," +filled as usual with wood lore, but more concerned with moths than +birds. Mrs. Porter had been finding and picturing exquisite big night +flyers during several years of field work among the birds, and from +what she could have readily done with them she saw how it would be +possible for a girl rightly constituted and environed to make a living, +and a good one, at such work. So was conceived "A Girl of the +Limberlost." "This comes fairly close to my idea of a good book," she +writes. "No possible harm can be done any one in reading it. The book +can, and does, present a hundred pictures that will draw any reader in +closer touch with nature and the Almighty, my primal object in each +line I write. The human side of the book is as close a character study +as I am capable of making. I regard the character of Mrs. Comstock as +the best thought-out and the cleanest-cut study of human nature I have +so far been able to do. Perhaps the best justification of my idea of +this book came to me recently when I received an application from the +President for permission to translate it into Arabic, as the first book +to be used in an effort to introduce our methods of nature study into +the College of Cairo." + +Hodder and Stoughton of London published the British edition of this +work. + +At the same time that "A Girl of the Limberlost" was published there +appeared the book called "Birds of the Bible." This volume took shape +slowly. The author made a long search for each bird mentioned in the +Bible, how often, where, why; each quotation concerning it in the whole +book, every abstract reference, why made, by whom, and what it meant. +Then slowly dawned the sane and true things said of birds in the Bible +compared with the amazing statements of Aristotle, Aristophanes, Pliny, +and other writers of about the same period in pagan nations. This led +to a search for the dawn of bird history and for the very first +pictures preserved of them. On this book the author expended more work +than on any other she has ever written. + +In 1911 two more books for which Mrs. Porter had gathered material for +long periods came to a conclusion on the same date: "Music of the Wild" +and "The Harvester." The latter of these was a nature novel; the other +a frank nature book, filled with all outdoors--a special study of the +sounds one hears in fields and forests, and photographic reproductions +of the musicians and their instruments. + +The idea of "The Harvester" was suggested to the author by an editor +who wanted a magazine article, with human interest in it, about the +ginseng diggers in her part of the country. Mr. Porter had bought +ginseng for years for a drug store he owned; there were several people +he knew still gathering it for market, and growing it was becoming a +good business all over the country. Mrs. Porter learned from the United +States Pharmacopaeia and from various other sources that the drug was +used mostly by the Chinese, and with a wholly mistaken idea of its +properties. The strongest thing any medical work will say for ginseng +is that it is "A VERY MILD AND SOOTHING DRUG." It seems that the +Chinese buy and use it in enormous quantities, in the belief that it is +a remedy for almost every disease to which humanity is heir; that it +will prolong life, and that it is a wonderful stimulant. Ancient +medical works make this statement, laying special emphasis upon its +stimulating qualities. The drug does none of these things. Instead of +being a stimulant, it comes closer to a sedative. This investigation +set the author on the search for other herbs that now are or might be +grown as an occupation. Then came the idea of a man who should grow +these drugs professionally, and of the sick girl healed by them. "I +could have gone to work and started a drug farm myself," remarks Mrs. +Porter, "with exactly the same profit and success as the Harvester. I +wrote primarily to state that to my personal knowledge, clean, loving +men still exist in this world, and that no man is forced to endure the +grind of city life if he wills otherwise. Any one who likes, with even +such simple means as herbs he can dig from fence corners, may start a +drug farm that in a short time will yield him delightful work and +independence. I WROTE THE BOOK AS I THOUGHT IT SHOULD BE WRITTEN, TO +PROVE MY POINTS AND ESTABLISH MY CONTENTIONS. I THINK IT DID. MEN THE +GLOBE AROUND PROMPTLY WROTE ME THAT THEY ALWAYS HAD OBSERVED THE MORAL +CODE; OTHERS THAT THE SUBJECT NEVER IN ALL THEIR LIVES HAD BEEN +PRESENTED TO THEM FROM MY POINT OF VIEW, BUT NOW THAT IT HAD BEEN, THEY +WOULD CHANGE AND DO WHAT THEY COULD TO INFLUENCE ALL MEN TO DO THE +SAME." + +Messrs. Hodder and Stoughton publish a British edition of "The +Harvester," there is an edition in Scandinavian, it was running +serially in a German magazine, but for a time at least the German and +French editions that were arranged will be stopped by this war, as +there was a French edition of "The Song of the Cardinal." + +After a short rest, the author began putting into shape a book for +which she had been compiling material since the beginning of field +work. From the first study she made of an exquisite big night moth, +Mrs. Porter used every opportunity to secure more and representative +studies of each family in her territory, and eventually found the work +so fascinating that she began hunting cocoons and raising caterpillars +in order to secure life histories and make illustrations with fidelity +to life. "It seems," comments the author, "that scientists and +lepidopterists from the beginning have had no hesitation in describing +and using mounted moth and butterfly specimens for book text and +illustration, despite the fact that their colours fade rapidly, that +the wings are always in unnatural positions, and the bodies shrivelled. +I would quite as soon accept the mummy of any particular member of the +Rameses family as a fair representation of the living man, as a mounted +moth for a live one." + +When she failed to secure the moth she wanted in a living and perfect +specimen for her studies, the author set out to raise one, making +photographic studies from the eggs through the entire life process. +There was one June during which she scarcely slept for more than a few +hours of daytime the entire month. She turned her bedroom into a +hatchery, where were stored the most precious cocoons; and if she lay +down at night it was with those she thought would produce moths before +morning on her pillow, where she could not fail to hear them emerging. +At the first sound she would be up with notebook in hand, and by dawn, +busy with cameras. Then she would be forced to hurry to the darkroom +and develop her plates in order to be sure that she had a perfect +likeness, before releasing the specimen, for she did release all she +produced except one pair of each kind, never having sold a moth, +personally. Often where the markings were wonderful and complicated, as +soon as the wings were fully developed Mrs. Porter copied the living +specimen in water colours for her illustrations, frequently making +several copies in order to be sure that she laid on the colour enough +BRIGHTER than her subject so that when it died it would be exactly the +same shade. + +"Never in all my life," writes the author, "have I had such exquisite +joy in work as I had in painting the illustrations for this volume of +'Moths of the Limberlost.' Colour work had advanced to such a stage +that I knew from the beautiful reproductions in Arthur Rackham's +'Rheingold and Valkyrie' and several other books on the market, that +time so spent would not be lost. Mr. Doubleday had assured me +personally that I might count on exact reproduction, and such details +of type and paper as I chose to select. I used the easel made for me +when a girl, under the supervision of my father, and I threw my whole +heart into the work of copying each line and delicate shading on those +wonderful wings, 'all diamonded with panes of quaint device, +innumerable stains and splendid dyes,' as one poet describes them. +There were times, when in working a mist of colour over another +background, I cut a brush down to three hairs. Some of these +illustrations I sent back six and seven times, to be worked over before +the illustration plates were exact duplicates of the originals, and my +heart ached for the engravers, who must have had Job-like patience; but +it did not ache enough to stop me until I felt the reproduction exact. +This book tells its own story of long and patient waiting for a +specimen, of watching, of disappointments, and triumphs. I love it +especially among my book children because it represents my highest +ideals in the making of a nature book, and I can take any skeptic +afield and prove the truth of the natural history it contains." + +In August of 1913 the author's novel "Laddie" was published in New +York, London, Sydney and Toronto simultaneously. This book contains the +same mixture of romance and nature interest as the others, and is +modelled on the same plan of introducing nature objects peculiar to the +location, and characters, many of whom are from life, typical of the +locality at a given period. The first thing many critics said of it was +that "no such people ever existed, and no such life was ever lived." In +reply to this the author said: "Of a truth, the home I described in +this book I knew to the last grain of wood in the doors, and I painted, +it with absolute accuracy; and many of the people I described I knew +more intimately than I ever have known any others. TAKEN AS A WHOLE IT +REPRESENTS A PERFECTLY FAITHFUL PICTURE OF HOME LIFE, IN A FAMILY WHO +WERE REARED AND EDUCATED EXACTLY AS THIS BOOK INDICATES. There was such +a man as Laddie, and he was as much bigger and better than my +description of him as a real thing is always better than its +presentment. The only difference, barring the nature work, between my +books and those of many other writers, is that I prefer to describe and +to perpetuate the BEST I have known in life; whereas many authors seem +to feel that they have no hope of achieving a high literary standing +unless they delve in and reproduce the WORST. + +"To deny that wrong and pitiful things exist in life is folly, but to +believe that these things are made better by promiscuous discussion at +the hands of writers who FAIL TO PROVE BY THEIR BOOKS that their +viewpoint is either right, clean, or helpful, is close to insanity. If +there is to be any error on either side in a book, then God knows it is +far better that it should be upon the side of pure sentiment and high +ideals than upon that of a too loose discussion of subjects which often +open to a large part of the world their first knowledge of such forms +of sin, profligate expenditure, and waste of life's best opportunities. +There is one great beauty in idealized romance: reading it can make no +one worse than he is, while it may help thousands to a cleaner life and +higher inspiration than they ever before have known." + +Mrs. Porter has written ten books, and it is not out of place here to +express her attitude toward them. Each was written, she says, from her +heart's best impulses. They are as clean and helpful as she knew how to +make them, as beautiful and interesting. She has never spared herself +in the least degree, mind or body, when it came to giving her best, and +she has never considered money in relation to what she was writing. + +During the hard work and exposure of those early years, during rainy +days and many nights in the darkroom, she went straight ahead with +field work, sending around the globe for books and delving to secure +material for such books as "Birds of the Bible," "Music of the Wild," +and "Moths of the Limberlost." Every day devoted to such work was +"commercially" lost, as publishers did not fail to tell her. But that +was the work she could do, and do with exceeding joy. She could do it +better pictorially, on account of her lifelong knowledge of living +things afield, than any other woman had as yet had the strength and +nerve to do it. It was work in which she gloried, and she persisted. +"Had I been working for money," comments the author, "not one of these +nature books ever would have been written, or an illustration made." + +When the public had discovered her and given generous approval to "A +Girl of the Limberlost," when "The Harvester" had established a new +record, that would have been the time for the author to prove her +commercialism by dropping nature work, and plunging headlong into books +it would pay to write, and for which many publishers were offering +alluring sums. Mrs. Porter's answer was the issuing of such books as +"Music of the Wild" and "Moths of the Limberlost." No argument is +necessary. Mr. Edward Shuman, formerly critic of the Chicago +Record-Herald, was impressed by this method of work and pointed it out +in a review. It appealed to Mr. Shuman, when "Moths of the Limberlost" +came in for review, following the tremendous success of "The +Harvester," that had the author been working for money, she could have +written half a dozen more "Harvesters" while putting seven years of +field work, on a scientific subject, into a personally illustrated work. + +In an interesting passage dealing with her books, Mrs. Porter writes: +"I have done three times the work on my books of fiction that I see +other writers putting into a novel, in order to make all natural +history allusions accurate and to write them in such fashion that they +will meet with the commendation of high schools, colleges, and +universities using what I write as text books, and for the homes that +place them in their libraries. I am perfectly willing to let time and +the hearts of the people set my work in its ultimate place. I have no +delusions concerning it. + +"To my way of thinking and working the greatest service a piece of +fiction can do any reader is to leave him with a higher ideal of life +than he had when he began. If in one small degree it shows him where he +can be a gentler, saner, cleaner, kindlier man, it is a wonder-working +book. If it opens his eyes to one beauty in nature he never saw for +himself, and leads him one step toward the God of the Universe, it is a +beneficial book, for one step into the miracles of nature leads to that +long walk, the glories of which so strengthen even a boy who thinks he +is dying, that he faces his struggle like a gladiator." + +During the past ten years thousands of people have sent the author word +that through her books they have been led afield and to their first +realization of the beauties of nature her mail brings an average of ten +such letters a day, mostly from students, teachers, and professional +people of our largest cities. It can probably be said in all truth of +her nature books and nature novels, that in the past ten years they +have sent more people afield than all the scientific writings of the +same period. That is a big statement, but it is very likely pretty +close to the truth. Mrs. Porter has been asked by two London and one +Edinburgh publishers for the privilege of bringing out complete sets of +her nature books, but as yet she has not felt ready to do this. + +In bringing this sketch of Gene Stratton-Porter to a close it will be +interesting to quote the author's own words describing the Limberlost +Swamp, its gradual disappearance under the encroachments of business, +and her removal to a new field even richer in natural beauties. She +says: "In the beginning of the end a great swamp region lay in +northeastern Indiana. Its head was in what is now Noble and DeKalb +counties; its body in Allen and Wells, and its feet in southern Adams +and northern Jay The Limberlost lies at the foot and was, when I +settled near it, EXACTLY AS DESCRIBED IN MY BOOKS. The process of +dismantling it was told in, Freckles, to start with, carried on in 'A +Girl of the Limberlost,' and finished in 'Moths of the Limberlost.' Now +it has so completely fallen prey to commercialism through the +devastation of lumbermen, oilmen, and farmers, that I have been forced +to move my working territory and build a new cabin about seventy miles +north, at the head of the swamp in Noble county, where there are many +lakes, miles of unbroken marsh, and a far greater wealth of plant and +animal life than existed during my time in the southern part. At the +north end every bird that frequents the Central States is to be found. +Here grow in profusion many orchids, fringed gentians, cardinal +flowers, turtle heads, starry campions, purple gerardias, and grass of +Parnassus. In one season I have located here almost every flower named +in the botanies as native to these regions and several that I can find +in no book in my library. + +"But this change of territory involves the purchase of fifteen acres of +forest and orchard land, on a lake shore in marsh country. It means the +building of a permanent, all-year-round home, which will provide the +comforts of life for my family and furnish a workshop consisting of a +library, a photographic darkroom and negative closet, and a printing +room for me. I could live in such a home as I could provide on the +income from my nature work alone; but when my working grounds were +cleared, drained and ploughed up, literally wiped from the face of the +earth, I never could have moved to new country had it not been for the +earnings of the novels, which I now spend, and always have spent, in +great part UPON MY NATURE WORK. Based on this plan of work and life I +have written ten books, and 'please God I live so long,' I shall write +ten more. Possibly every one of them will be located in northern +Indiana. Each one will be filled with all the field and woods +legitimately falling to its location and peopled with the best men and +women I have known." + + + +Chapter 1 + +THE RAT-CATCHERS OF THE WABASH + +"Hey, you swate-scented little heart-warmer!" cried Jimmy Malone, as he +lifted his tenth trap, weighted with a struggling muskrat, from the +Wabash. "Varmint you may be to all the rist of creation, but you mane a +night at Casey's to me." + +Jimmy whistled softly as he reset the trap. For the moment he forgot +that he was five miles from home, that it was a mile farther to the end +of his line at the lower curve of Horseshoe Bend, that his feet and +fingers were almost freezing, and that every rat of the ten now in the +bag on his back had made him thirstier. He shivered as the cold wind +sweeping the curves of the river struck him; but when an unusually +heavy gust dropped the ice and snow from a branch above him on the back +of his head, he laughed, as he ducked and cried: "Kape your snowballing +till the Fourth of July, will you!" + +"Chick-a-dee-dee-dee!" remarked a tiny gray bird on the tree above him. +Jimmy glanced up. "Chickie, Chickie, Chickie," he said. "I can't till +by your dress whether you are a hin or a rooster. But I can till by +your employmint that you are working for grub. Have to hustle lively +for every worm you find, don't you, Chickie? Now me, I'm hustlin' +lively for a drink, and I be domn if it seems nicessary with a whole +river of drinkin' stuff flowin' right under me feet. But the old Wabash +ain't runnin "wine and milk and honey" not by the jug-full. It seems to +be compounded of aquil parts of mud, crude ile, and rain water. If +'twas only runnin' Melwood, be gorry, Chickie, you'd see a mermaid +named Jimmy Malone sittin' on the Kingfisher Stump, combin' its auburn +hair with a breeze, and scoopin' whiskey down its gullet with its tail +fin. No, hold on, Chickie, you wouldn't either. I'm too flat-chisted +for a mermaid, and I'd have no time to lave off gurglin' for the +hair-combin' act, which, Chickie, to me notion is as issential to a +mermaid as the curves. I'd be a sucker, the biggest sucker in the +Gar-hole, Chickie bird. I'd be an all-day sucker, be gobs; yis, and an +all-night sucker, too. Come to think of it, Chickie, be domn if I'd be +a sucker at all. Look at the mouths of thim! Puckered up with a +drawstring! Oh, Hell on the Wabash, Chickie, think of Jimmy Malone +lyin' at the bottom of a river flowin' with Melwood, and a +puckerin'-string mouth! Wouldn't that break the heart of you? I know +what I'd be. I'd be the Black Bass of Horseshoe Bend, Chickie, and I'd +locate just below the shoals headin' up stream, and I'd hold me mouth +wide open till I paralyzed me jaws so I couldn't shut thim. I'd just +let the pure stuff wash over me gills constant, world without end. +Good-by, Chickie. Hope you got your grub, and pretty soon I'll have +enough drink to make me feel like I was the Bass for one night, anyway." + +Jimmy hurried to his next trap, which was empty, but the one after that +contained a rat, and there were footprints in the snow. "That's where +the porrage-heart of the Scotchman comes in," said Jimmy, as he held up +the rat by one foot, and gave it a sharp rap over the head with the +trap to make sure it was dead. "Dannie could no more hear a rat fast in +one of me traps and not come over and put it out of its misery, than he +could dance a hornpipe. And him only sicond hand from hornpipe land, +too! But his feet's like lead. Poor Dannie! He gets just about half the +rats I do. He niver did have luck." + +Jimmy's gay face clouded for an instant. The twinkle faded from his +eyes, and a look of unrest swept into them. He muttered something, and +catching up his bag, shoved in the rat. As he reset the trap, a big +crow dropped from branch to branch on a sycamore above him, and his +back scarcely was turned before it alighted on the ice, and ravenously +picked at three drops of blood purpling there. + +Away down the ice-sheeted river led Dannie's trail, showing plainly +across the snow blanket. The wind raved through the trees, and around +the curves of the river. The dark earth of the banks peeping from under +overhanging ice and snow, looked like the entrance to deep mysterious +caves. Jimmy's superstitious soul readily peopled them with goblins and +devils. He shuddered, and began to talk aloud to cheer himself. "Elivin +muskrat skins, times fifteen cints apiece, one dollar sixty-five. That +will buy more than I can hold. Hagginy! Won't I be takin' one long fine +gurgle of the pure stuff! And there's the boys! I might do the grand +for once. One on me for the house! And I might pay something on my back +score, but first I'll drink till I swell like a poisoned pup. And I +ought to get Mary that milk pail she's been kickin' for this last +month. Women and cows are always kickin'! If the blarsted cow hadn't +kicked a hole in the pail, there'd be no need of Mary kicking for a new +one. But dough IS dubious soldering. Mary says it's bad enough on the +dish pan, but it positively ain't hilthy about the milk pail, and she +is right. We ought to have a new pail. I guess I'll get it first, and +fill up on what's left. One for a quarter will do. And I've several +traps yet, I may get a few more rats." + +The virtuous resolve to buy a milk pail before he quenched the thirst +which burned him, so elated Jimmy with good opinion of himself that he +began whistling gayly as he strode toward his next trap. And by that +token, Dannie Macnoun, resetting an empty trap a quarter of a mile +below, knew that Jimmy was coming, and that as usual luck was with him. +Catching his blood and water dripping bag, Dannie dodged a rotten +branch that came crashing down under the weight of its icy load, and +stepping out on the river, he pulled on his patched wool-lined mittens +as he waited for Jimmy. + +"How many, Dannie?" called Jimmy from afar. + +"Seven," answered Dannie. "What for ye?" + +"Elivin," replied Jimmy, with a bit of unconscious swagger. "I am +havin' poor luck to-day." + +"How mony wad satisfy ye?" asked Dannie sarcastically. + +"Ain't got time to figure that," answered Jimmy, working in a double +shuffle as he walked. "Thrash around a little, Dannie. It will warm you +up." + +"I am no cauld," answered Dannie. + +"No cauld!" imitated Jimmy. "No cauld! Come to observe you closer, I do +detect symptoms of sunstroke in the ridness of your face, and the +whiteness about your mouth; but the frost on your neck scarf, and the +icicles fistooned around the tail of your coat, tell a different story. + +"Dannie, you remind me of the baptizin' of Pete Cox last winter. Pete's +nothin' but skin and bone, and he niver had a square meal in his life +to warm him. It took pushin' and pullin' to get him in the water, and a +scum froze over while he was under. Pete came up shakin' like the +feeder on a thrashin' machine, and whin he could spake at all, 'Bless +Jasus,' says he, 'I'm jist as wa-wa-warm as I wa-wa-want to be.' So are +you, Dannie, but there's a difference in how warm folks want to be. For +meself, now, I could aisily bear a little more hate." + +"It's honest, I'm no cauld," insisted Dannie; and he might have added +that if Jimmy would not fill his system with Casey's poisons, that +degree of cold would not chill and pinch him either. But being Dannie, +he neither thought nor said it. '"Why, I'm frozen to me sowl!" cried +Jimmy, as he changed the rat bag to his other hand, and beat the empty +one against his leg. "Say, Dannie, where do you think the Kingfisher is +wintering?" + +"And the Black Bass," answered Dannie. "Where do ye suppose the Black +Bass is noo?" + +"Strange you should mintion the Black Bass," said Jimmy. "I was just +havin' a little talk about him with a frind of mine named Chickie-dom, +no, Chickie-dee, who works a grub stake back there. The Bass might be +lyin' in the river bed right under our feet. Don't you remimber the +time whin I put on three big cut-worms, and skittered thim beyond the +log that lays across here, and he lept from the water till we both saw +him the best we ever did, and nothin' but my old rotten line ever saved +him? Or he might be where it slumps off just below the Kingfisher +stump. But I know where he is all right. He's down in the Gar-hole, and +he'll come back here spawning time, and chase minnows when the +Kingfisher comes home. But, Dannie, where the nation do you suppose the +Kingfisher is?" + +"No' so far away as ye might think," replied Dannie. "Doc Hues told me +that coming on the train frae Indianapolis on the fifteenth of +December, he saw one fly across a little pond juist below Winchester. I +believe they go south slowly, as the cold drives them, and stop near as +they can find guid fishing. Dinna that stump look lonely wi'out him?" + +"And sound lonely without the Bass slashing around! I am going to have +that Bass this summer if I don't do a thing but fish!" vowed Jimmy. + +"I'll surely have a try at him," answered Dannie, with a twinkle in his +gray eyes. "We've caught most everything else in the Wabash, and our +reputation fra taking guid fish is ahead of any one on the river, +except the Kingfisher. Why the Diel dinna one of us haul out that Bass?" + +"Ain't I just told you that I am going to hook him this summer?" +shivered Jimmy. + +"Dinna ye hear me mention that I intended to take a try at him mysel'?" +questioned Dannie. "Have ye forgotten that I know how to fish?" + +"'Nough breeze to-day without starting a Highlander," interposed Jimmy +hastily. "I believe I hear a rat in my next trap. That will make me +twilve, and it's good and glad of it I am for I've to walk to town when +my line is reset. There's something Mary wants." + +"If Mary wants ye to go to town, why dinna ye leave me to finish your +traps, and start now?" asked Dannie. "It's getting dark, and if ye are +so late ye canna see the drifts, ye never can cut across the fields; +fra the snow is piled waist high, and it's a mile farther by the road." + +"I got to skin my rats first, or I'll be havin' to ask credit again," +replied Jimmy. + +"That's easy," answered Dannie. "Turn your rats over to me richt noo. +I'll give ye market price fra them in cash." + +"But the skinnin' of them," objected Jimmy for decency sake, though his +eyes were beginning to shine and his fingers to tremble. + +"Never ye mind about that," retorted Dannie. "I like to take my time to +it, and fix them up nice. Elivin, did ye say?" + +"Elivin," answered Jimmy, breaking into a jig, supposedly to keep his +feet warm, in reality because he could not stand quietly while Dannie +pulled off his mittens, got out and unstrapped his wallet, and +carefully counted out the money. "Is that all ye need?" he asked. + +For an instant Jimmy hesitated. Missing a chance to get even a few +cents more meant a little shorter time at Casey's. "That's enough, I +think," he said. "I wish I'd staid out of matrimony, and then maybe I +could iver have a cint of me own. You ought to be glad you haven't a +woman to consume ivery penny you earn before it reaches your pockets, +Dannie Micnoun." + +"I hae never seen Mary consume much but calico and food," Dannie said +dryly. + +"Oh, it ain't so much what a woman really spinds," said Jimmy, +peevishly, as he shoved the money into his pocket, and pulled on his +mittens. "It's what you know she would spind if she had the chance." + +"I dinna think ye'll break up on that," laughed Dannie. + +And that was what Jimmy wanted. So long as he could set Dannie +laughing, he could mold him. + +"No, but I'll break down," lamented Jimmy in sore self-pity, as he +remembered the quarter sacred to the purchase of the milk pail. + +"Ye go on, and hurry," urged Dannie. "If ye dinna start home by seven, +I'll be combing the drifts fra ye before morning." + +"Anything I can do for you?" asked Jimmy, tightening his old red neck +scarf. + +"Yes," answered Dannie. "Do your errand and start straight home, your +teeth are chattering noo. A little more exposure, and the rheumatism +will be grinding ye again. Ye will hurry, Jimmy?" + +"Sure!" cried Jimmy, ducking under a snow slide, and breaking into a +whistle as he turned toward the road. + +Dannie's gaze followed Jimmy's retreating figure until he climbed the +bank, and was lost in the woods, and the light in his eyes was the +light of love. He glanced at the sky, and hurried down the river. First +across to Jimmy's side to gather his rats and reset his traps, then to +his own. But luck seemed to have turned, for all the rest of Dannie's +were full, and all of Jimmy's were empty. But as he was gone, it was +not necessary for Dannie to slip across and fill them, as was his +custom when they worked together. He would divide the rats at skinning +time, so that Jimmy would have just twice as many as he, because Jimmy +had a wife to support. The last trap of the line lay a little below the +curve of Horseshoe Bend, and there Dannie twisted the tops of the bags +together, climbed the bank, and struck across Rainbow Bottom. He +settled his load to his shoulders, and glanced ahead to choose the +shortest route. He stopped suddenly with a quick intake of breath. + +"God!" he cried reverently. "Hoo beautifu' are Thy works." + +The ice-covered Wabash circled Rainbow Bottom like a broad white frame, +and inside it was a perfect picture wrought in crystal white and snow +shadows. The blanket on the earth lay smoothly in even places, rose +with knolls, fell with valleys, curved over prostrate logs, heaped in +mounds where bushes grew thickly, and piled high in drifts where the +wind blew free. In the shelter of the bottom the wind had not stripped +the trees of their loads as it had those along the river. The willows, +maples, and soft woods bent almost to earth with their shining burden; +but the stout, stiffly upstanding trees, the oaks, elms, and +cottonwoods defied the elements to bow their proud heads. While the +three mighty trunks of the great sycamore in the middle looked white as +the snow, and dwarfed its companions as it never had in summer; its +wide-spreading branches were sharply cut against the blue background, +and they tossed their frosted balls in the face of Heaven. The giant of +Rainbow Bottom might be broken, but it never would bend. Every +clambering vine, every weed and dried leaf wore a coat of lace-webbed +frostwork. The wind swept a mist of tiny crystals through the air, and +from the shelter of the deep woods across the river a Cardinal whistled +gayly. + +The bird of Good Cheer, whistling no doubt on an empty crop, made +Dannie think of Jimmy, and his unfailing fountain of mirth. Dear Jimmy! +Would he ever take life seriously? How good he was to tramp to town and +back after five miles on the ice. He thought of Mary with almost a +touch of impatience. What did the woman want that was so necessary as +to send a man to town after a day on the ice? Jimmy would be dog tired +when he got home. Dannie decided to hurry, and do the feeding and get +in the wood before he began to skin the rats. + +He found walking uncertain. He plunged into unsuspected hollows, and +waded drifts, so that he was panting when he reached the lane. From +there he caught the gray curl of smoke against the sky from one of two +log cabins side by side at the top of the embankment, and he almost ran +toward them. Mary might think they were late at the traps, and be out +doing the feeding, and it would be cold for a woman. + +On reaching his own door, he dropped the rat bags inside, and then +hurried to the yard of the other cabin. He gathered a big load of wood +in his arms, and stamping the snow from his feet, called "Open!" at the +door. Dannie stepped inside and filled the empty box. With smiling eyes +he turned to Mary, as he brushed the snow and moss from his sleeves. + +"Nothing but luck to-day," he said. "Jimmy took elivin fine skins frae +his traps before he started to town, and I got five more that are his, +and I hae eight o' my own." + +Mary looked such a dream to Dannie, standing there all pink and warm +and tidy in her fresh blue dress, that he blinked and smiled, half +bewildered. + +"What did Jimmy go to town for?" she asked. + +"Whatever it was ye wanted," answered Dannie. + +"What was it I wanted?" persisted Mary. + +"He dinna tell me," replied Dannie, and the smile wavered. + +"Me, either," said Mary, and she stooped and picked up her sewing. + +Dannie went out and gently closed the door. He stood for a second on +the step, forcing himself to take an inventory of the work. There were +the chickens to feed, and the cows to milk, feed, and water. Both the +teams must be fed and bedded, a fire in his own house made, and two +dozen rats skinned, and the skins put to stretch and cure. And at the +end of it all, instead of a bed and rest, there was every probability +that he must drive to town after Jimmy; for Jimmy could get helpless +enough to freeze in a drift on a dollar sixty-five. + +"Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy!" muttered Dannie. "I wish ye wadna." And he was not +thinking of himself, but of the eyes of the woman inside. + +So Dannie did all the work, and cooked his supper, because he never ate +in Jimmy's cabin when Jimmy was not there. Then he skinned rats, and +watched the clock, because if Jimmy did not come by eleven, it meant he +must drive to town and bring him home. No wonder Jimmy chilled at the +trapping when he kept his blood on fire with whiskey. At half-past ten, +Dannie, with scarcely half the rats finished, went out into the storm +and hitched to the single buggy. Then he tapped at Mary Malone's door, +quite softly, so that he would not disturb her if she had gone to bed. +She was not sleeping, however, and the loneliness of her slight figure, +as she stood with the lighted room behind her, struck Dannie forcibly, +so that his voice trembled with pity as he said: "Mary, I've run out o' +my curing compound juist in the midst of skinning the finest bunch o' +rats we've taken frae the traps this winter. I am going to drive to +town fra some more before the stores close, and we will be back in less +than an hour. I thought I'd tell ye, so if ye wanted me ye wad know why +I dinna answer. Ye winna be afraid, will ye?" + +"No," replied Mary, "I won't be afraid." + +"Bolt the doors, and pile on plenty of wood to keep ye warm," said +Dannie as he turned away. + +Just for a minute Mary stared out into the storm. Then a gust of wind +nearly swept her from her feet, and she pushed the door shut, and slid +the heavy bolt into place. For a little while she leaned and listened +to the storm outside. She was a clean, neat, beautiful Irish woman. Her +eyes were wide and blue, her cheeks pink, and her hair black and softly +curling about her face and neck. The room in which she stood was neat +as its keeper. The walls were whitewashed, and covered with prints, +pictures, and some small tanned skins. Dried grasses and flowers filled +the vases on the mantle. The floor was neatly carpeted with a striped +rag carpet, and in the big open fireplace a wood fire roared. In an +opposite corner stood a modern cooking stove, the pipe passing through +a hole in the wall, and a door led into a sleeping room beyond. + +As her eyes swept the room they rested finally on a framed lithograph +of the Virgin, with the Infant in her arms. Slowly Mary advanced, her +gaze fast on the serene pictured face of the mother clasping her child. +Before it she stood staring. Suddenly her breast began to heave, and +the big tears brimmed from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. + +"Since you look so wise, why don't you tell me why?" she demanded. "Oh, +if you have any mercy, tell me why!" + +Then before the steady look in the calm eyes, she hastily made the sign +of the cross, and slipping to the floor, she laid her head on a chair, +and sobbed aloud. + + + +Chapter II + +RUBEN O'KHAYAM AND THE MILK PAIL + + +Jimmy Malone, carrying a shinning tin milk pail, stepped into Casey's +saloon and closed the door behind him. + +"E' much as wine has played the Infidel, And robbed me of my robe of +Honor--well, I wonder what the Vinters buy One-half so precious as the +stuff they sell." + +Jimmy stared at the back of a man leaning against the bar, and gazing +lovingly at a glass of red wine, as he recited in mellow, swinging +tones. Gripping the milk pail, Jimmy advanced a step. The man stuck a +thumb in the belt of his Norfolk jacket, and the verses flowed on: + + + "The grape that can with logic absolute + The two and seventy jarring sects confute: + The sovereign Alchemist that in a trice + Life's leaden metal into Gold transmute." + + +Jimmy's mouth fell open, and he slowly nodded indorsement of the +sentiment. The man lifted his glass. + + + "Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend, + Before we too into the Dust descend; + Yesterday this Day's Madness did prepare; + To-morrow's Silence, Triumph, or Despair: + Drink! for you know not whence you came nor why: + Drink! for you know not why you go nor where." + + +Jimmy set the milk pail on the bar and faced the man. + +"'Fore God, that's the only sensible word I ever heard on my side of +the quistion in all me life. And to think that it should come from the +mouth of a man wearing such a Go-to-Hell coat!" + +Jimmy shoved the milk pail in front of the stranger. "In the name of +humanity, impty yourself of that," he said. "Fill me pail with the +stuff and let me take it home to Mary. She's always got the bist of the +argumint, but I'm thinkin' that would cork her. You won't?" questioned +Jimmy resentfully. "Kape it to yoursilf, thin, like you did your wine." +He shoved the bucket toward the barkeeper, and emptied his pocket on +the bar. "There, Casey, you be the Sovereign Alchemist, and transmute +that metal into Melwood pretty quick, for I've not wet me whistle in +three days, and the belly of me is filled with burnin' autumn leaves. +Gimme a loving cup, and come on boys, this is on me while it lasts." + +The barkeeper swept the coin into the till, picked up the bucket, and +started back toward a beer keg. + +"Oh, no you don't!" cried Jimmy. "Come back here and count that 'leaden +metal,' and then be transmutin' it into whiskey straight, the purest +gold you got. You don't drown out a three-days' thirst with beer. You +ought to give me 'most two quarts for that." + +The barkeeper was wise. He knew that what Jimmy started would go on +with men who could pay, and he filled the order generously. + +Jimmy picked up the pail. He dipped a small glass in the liquor, and +held near an ounce aloft. + + + "I wonder what the Vinters buy + One-half so precious as the stuff they sell?" + +he quoted. "Down goes!" and he emptied the glass at a draft. Then he +walked to the group at the stove, and began dipping a drink for each. + +When Jimmy came to a gray-haired man, with a high forehead and an +intellectual face, he whispered: "Take your full time, Cap. Who's the +rhymin' inkybator?" + +"Thread man, Boston," mouthed the Captain, as he reached for the glass +with trembling fingers. Jimmy held on. "Do you know that stuff he's +giving off?" The Captain nodded, and rose to his feet. He always +declared he could feel it farther if he drank standing. + +"What's his name?" whispered Jimmy, releasing the glass. "Rubaiyat, +Omar Khayyam," panted the Captain, and was lost. Jimmy finished the +round of his friends, and then approached the bar. + +His voice was softening. "Mister Ruben O'Khayam," he said, "it's me +private opinion that ye nade lace-trimmed pantalettes and a sash to +complate your costume, but barrin' clothes, I'm entangled in the thrid +of your discourse. Bein' a Boston man meself, it appeals to me, that I +detict the refinemint of the East in yer voice. Now these, me frinds, +that I've just been tratin', are men of these parts; but we of the +middle East don't set up to equal the culture of the extreme East. So, +Mr. O'Khayam, solely for the benefit you might be to us, I'm askin' you +to join me and me frinds in the momenchous initiation of me new milk +pail." + +Jimmy lifted a brimming glass, and offered it to the Thread Man. "Do +you transmute?" he asked. Now if the Boston man had looked Jimmy in the +eye, and said "I do," this book would not have been written. But he did +not. He looked at the milk pail, and the glass, which had passed +through the hands of a dozen men in a little country saloon away out in +the wilds of Indiana, and said: "I do not care to partake of further +refreshment; if I can be of intellectual benefit, I might remain for a +time." + +For a flash Jimmy lifted the five feet ten of his height to six; but in +another he shrank below normal. What appeared to the Thread Man to be a +humble, deferential seeker after wisdom, led him to one of the chairs +around the big coal base burner. But the boys who knew Jimmy were +watching the whites of his eyes, as they drank the second round. At +this stage Jimmy was on velvet. How long he remained there depended on +the depth of Melwood in the milk pail between his knees. He smiled +winningly on the Thread Man. + +"Ye know, Mister O'Khayam," he said, "at the present time you are +located in one of the wooliest parts of the wild East. I don't suppose +anything woolier could be found on the plains of Nebraska where I am +reliably informed they've stuck up a pole and labeled it the cinter of +the United States. Being a thousand miles closer that pole than you are +in Boston, naturally we come by that distance closer to the great wool +industry. Most of our wool here grows on our tongues, and we shear it +by this transmutin' process, concerning which you have discoursed so +beautiful. But barrin' the shearin' of our wool, we are the mildest, +most sheepish fellows you could imagine. I don't reckon now there is a +man among us who could be induced to blat or to butt, under the most +tryin' circumstances. My Mary's got a little lamb, and all the rist of +the boys are lambs. But all the lambs are waned, and clusterin' round +the milk pail. Ain't that touchin'? Come on, now, Ruben, ile up and +edify us some more!" + +"On what point do you seek enlightenment?" inquired the Thread Man. + +Jimmy stretched his long legs, and spat against the stove in pure +delight. + +"Oh, you might loosen up on the work of a man," he suggested. "These +lambs of Casey's fold may larn things from you to help thim in the +striss of life. Now here's Jones, for instance, he's holdin' togither a +gang of sixty gibbering Atalyans; any wan of thim would cut his throat +and skip in the night for a dollar, but he kapes the beast in thim +under, and they're gettin' out gravel for the bed of a railway. Bingham +there is oil. He's punchin' the earth full of wan thousand foot holes, +and sendin' off two hundred quarts of nitroglycerine at the bottom of +them, and pumpin' the accumulation across continents to furnish folks +light and hate. York here is runnin' a field railway between Bluffton +and Celina, so that I can get to the river and the resurvoir to fish +without walkin'. Haines is bossin' a crew of forty Canadians and he's +takin' the timber from the woods hereabouts, and sending it to be made +into boats to carry stuff across sea. Meself, and me partner, Dannie +Micnoun, are the lady-likest lambs in the bunch. We grow grub to feed +folks in summer and trap for skins to cover 'em in winter. Corn is our +great commodity. Plowin' and hoein' it in summer, and huskin' it in the +fall is sich lamb-like work. But don't mintion it in the same brith +with tendin' our four dozen fur traps on a twenty-below-zero day. +Freezing hands and fate, and fallin' into air bubbles, and building +fires to thaw out our frozen grub. Now here among us poor little, +transmutin', lambs you come, a raging lion, ripresentin' the cultour +and rayfinement of the far East. By the pleats on your breast you show +us the style. By the thrid case in your hand you furnish us material so +that our women can tuck their petticoats so fancy, and by the book in +your head you teach us your sooperiority. By the same token, I wish I +had that book in me head, for I could just squelch Dannie and Mary with +it complate. Say, Mister O'Khayam, next time you come this way bring me +a copy. I'm wantin' it bad. I got what you gave off all secure, but I +take it there's more. No man goin' at that clip could shut off with +thim few lines. Do you know the rist?" + +The Thread Man knew the most of it, and although he was very +uncomfortable, he did not know just how to get away, so he recited it. +The milk pail was empty now, and Jimmy had almost forgotten that it was +a milk pail, and seemed inclined to resent the fact that it had gone +empty. He beat time on the bottom of it, and frequently interrupted the +Thread Man to repeat a couplet which particularly suited him. By and by +he got to his feet and began stepping off a slow dance to a sing-song +repetition of lines that sounded musical to him, all the time marking +the measures vigorously on the pail. When he tired of a couplet, he +pounded the pail over the bar, stove, or chairs in encore, until the +Thread Man could think up another to which he could dance. + + + "Wine! Wine! Wine! Red Wine! + The Nightingale cried to the rose," + +chanted Jimmy, thumping the pail in time, and stepping off the measures +with feet that scarcely seemed to touch the floor. He flung his hat to +the barkeeper, and his coat on a chair, ruffled his fingers through his +thick auburn hair, and holding the pail under one arm, he paused, +panting for breath and begging for more. The Thread Man sat on the edge +of his chair, and the eyes he fastened on Jimmy were beginning to fill +with interest. + + "Come fill the Cup and in the fire of Spring + Your Winter-Garment of Repentance fling. + The bird of time has but a little way to flutter + And the bird is on the wing." + +Smash came the milk pail across the bar. "Hooray!" shouted Jimmy. +"Besht yet!" Bang! Bang! He was off. "ird ish on the wing," he chanted, +and his feet flew. "Come fill the cup, and in the firesh of +spring--Firesh of Spring, Bird ish on the Wing!" Between the music of +the milk pail, the brogue of the panted verses, and the grace of +Jimmy's flying feet, the Thread Man was almost prostrate. It suddenly +came to him that here might be a chance to have a great time. + +"More!" gasped Jimmy. "Me some more!" The Thread Man wiped his eyes. + + + "Wether the cup with sweet or bitter run, + The wine of life keeps oozing drop by drop, + The leaves of life keep falling one by one." + +Away went Jimmy. + + "Swate or bitter run, + Laves of life kape falling one by one." + + +Bang! Bang! sounded a new improvision on the sadly battered pail, and +to a new step Jimmy flashed back and forth the length of the saloon. At +last he paused to rest a second. "One more! Just one more!" he begged. + + + "A Book of Verses underneath the Bough, + A jug of wine, a Loaf of Bread and Thou + Beside me singing in the Wilderness. + Oh, wilderness were Paradise enough!" + + +Jimmy's head dropped an instant. His feet slowly shuffled in +improvising a new step, and then he moved away, thumping the milk pail +and chanting: + + "A couple of fish poles underneath a tree, + A bottle of Rye and Dannie beside me + A fishing in the Wabash. + Were the Wabash Paradise? HULLY GEE! + + +Tired out, he dropped across a chair facing the back and folded his +arms. He regained breath to ask the Thread Man: "Did you iver have a +frind?" + +He had reached the confidential stage. + +The Boston man was struggling to regain his dignity. He retained the +impression that at the wildest of the dance he had yelled and patted +time for Jimmy. + +"I hope I have a host of friends," he said, settling his pleated coat. + +"Damn hosht!" said Jimmy. "Jisht in way. Now I got one frind, hosht all +by himself. Be here pretty soon now. Alwaysh comesh nights like thish." + +"Comes here?" inquired the Thread Man. "Am I to meet another +interesting character?" + +"Yesh, comesh here. Comesh after me. Comesh like the clock sthriking +twelve. Don't he, boys?" inquired Jimmy. "But he ain't no interesting +character. Jisht common man, Dannie is. Honest man. Never told a lie in +his life. Yesh, he did, too. I forgot. He liesh for me. Jish liesh and +liesh. Liesh to Mary. Tells her any old liesh to keep me out of +schrape. You ever have frind hish up and drive ten milesh for you night +like thish, and liesh to get you out of schrape?" + +"I never needed any one to lie and get me out of a scrape," answered +the Thread Man. + +Jimmy sat straight and solemnly batted his eyes. "Gee! You musht +misshed mosht the fun!" he said. "Me, I ain't ever misshed any. Always +in schrape. But Dannie getsh me out. Good old Dannie. Jish like dog. +Take care me all me life. See? Old folks come on same boat. Women get +thick. Shettle beside. Build cabinsh together. Work together, and domn +if they didn't get shmall pox and die together. Left me and Dannie. So +we work together jish shame, and we fallsh in love with the shame girl. +Dannie too slow. I got her." Jimmy wiped away great tears. + +"How did you get her, Jimmy?" asked a man who remembered a story. + +"How the nation did I get her?" Jimmy scratched his head, and appealed +to the Thread Man. "Dannie besht man. Milesh besht man! Never +lie--'cept for me. Never drink--'cept for me. Alwaysh save his +money--'cept for me. Milesh besht man! Isn't he besht man, Spooley?" + +"Ain't it true that you served Dannie a mean little trick?" asked the +man who remembered. + +Jimmy wasn't quite drunk enough, and the violent exercise of the dance +somewhat sobered him. He glared at the man. "Whatsh you talkin' about?" +he demanded. + +"I'm just asking you," said the man, "why, if you played straight with +Dannie about the girl, you never have had the face to go to confession +since you married her." + +"Alwaysh send my wife," said Jimmy grandly. "Domsh any woman that can't +confiss enough for two!" + +Then he hitched his chair closer to the Thread Man, and grew more +confidential. "Shee here," he said. "Firsht I see your pleated coat, +didn't like. But head's all right. Great head! Sthuck on frillsh there! +Want to be let in on something? Got enough city, clubsh, an' all that? +Want to taste real thing? Lesh go coon huntin'. Theysh tree down +Canoper, jish short pleashant walk, got fify coons in it! Nobody knowsh +the tree but me, shee? Been good to ush boys. Sat on same kind of +chairs we do. Educate ush up lot. Know mosht that poetry till I die, +shee? 'Wonner wash vinters buy, halfsh precious ash sthuff shell,' +shee? I got it! Let you in on real thing. Take grand big coon skinch +back to Boston with you. Ringsh on tail. Make wife fine muff, or fur +trimmingsh. Good to till boysh at club about, shee?" + +"Are you asking me to go on a coon hunt with you?" demanded the Thread +Man. "When? Where?" + +"Corshally invited," answered Jimmy. "To-morrow night. Canoper. Show +you plashe. Bill Duke's dogs. My gunsh. Moonsh shinin'. Dogs howlin'. +Shnow flying! Fify coonsh rollin' out one hole! Shoot all dead! Take +your pick! Tan skin for you myself! Roaring big firesh warm by. Bag +finesh sandwiches ever tasted. Milk pail pure gold drink. No stop, slop +out going over bridge. Take jug. Big jug. Toss her up an' let her +gurgle. Dogsh bark. Fire pop. Guns bang. Fifty coons drop. Boysh all +go. Want to get more education. Takes culture to get woolsh off. Shay, +will you go?" + +"I wouldn't miss it for a thousand dollars," said the Thread Man. "But +what will I say to my house for being a day late?" + +"Shay gotter grip," suggested Jimmy. "Never too late to getter grip. +Will you all go, boysh?" + +There were not three men in the saloon who knew of a tree that had +contained a coon that winter, but Jimmy was Jimmy, and to be trusted +for an expedition of that sort; and all of them agreed to be at the +saloon ready for the hunt at nine o'clock the next night. The Thread +Man felt that he was going to see Life. He immediately invited the boys +to the bar to drink to the success of the hunt. + +"You shoot own coon yourself," offered the magnanimous Jimmy. "You may +carrysh my gunsh, take first shot. First shot to Missher O'Khayam, +boysh, 'member that. Shay, can you hit anything? Take a try now." Jimmy +reached behind him, and shoved a big revolver into the hand of the +Thread Man. "Whersh target?" he demanded. + +As he turned from the bar, the milk pail which he still carried under +his arm caught on an iron rod. Jimmy gave it a jerk, and ripped the rim +from the bottom. "Thish do," he said. "Splendid marksh. Shinesh jish +like coon's eyesh in torch light." + +He carried the pail to the back wall and hung it over a nail. The nail +was straight, and the pail flaring. The pail fell. Jimmy kicked it +across the room, and then gathered it up, and drove a dent in it with +his heel that would hold over the nail. Then he went back to the Thread +Man. "Theresh mark, Ruben. Blash away!" he said. + +The Boston man hesitated. "Whatsh the matter? Cansh shoot off nothing +but your mouth?" demanded Jimmy. He caught the revolver and fired three +shots so rapidly that the sounds came almost as one. Two bullets +pierced the bottom of the pail, and the other the side as it fell. + +The door opened, and with the rush of cold air Jimmy gave just one +glance toward it, and slid the revolver into his pocket, reached for +his hat, and started in the direction of his coat. "Glad to see you, +Micnoun," he said. "If you are goingsh home, I'll jish ride out with +you. Good night, boysh. Don't forgetsh the coon hunt," and Jimmy was +gone. + +A minute later the door opened again, and this time a man of nearly +forty stepped inside. He had a manly form, and a manly face, was above +the average in looks, and spoke with a slight Scotch accent. + +"Do any of ye boys happen to know what it was Jimmy had with him when +he came in here?" + +A roar of laughter greeted the query. The Thread Man picked up the +pail. As he handed it to Dannie, he said: "Mr. Malone said he was +initiating a new milk pail, but I am afraid he has overdone the job." + +"Thank ye," said Dannie, and taking the battered thing, he went out +into the night. + +Jimmy was asleep when he reached the buggy. Dannie had long since found +it convenient to have no fence about his dooryard. He drove to the +door, dragged Jimmy from the buggy, and stabled the horse. By hard work +he removed Jimmy's coat and boots, laid him across the bed, and covered +him. Then he grimly looked at the light in the next cabin. "Why doesna +she go to bed?" he said. He summoned courage, and crossing the space +between the two buildings, he tapped on the window. "It's me, Mary," he +called. "The skins are only half done, and Jimmy is going to help me +finish. He will come over in the morning. Ye go to bed. Ye needna be +afraid. We will hear ye if ye even snore." There was no answer, but by +a movement in the cabin Dannie knew that Mary was still dressed and +waiting. He started back, but for an instant, heedless of the scurrying +snow and biting cold, he faced the sky. + +"I wonder if ye have na found a glib tongue and light feet the least +part o' matrimony," he said. "Why in God's name couldna ye have married +me? I'd like to know why." + +As he closed the door, the cold air roused Jimmy. + +"Dannie," he said, "donsh forget the milk pail. All 'niciate good now." + + + +Chapter III + +THE FIFTY COONS OF THE CANOPER + +Near noon of the next day, Jimmy opened his eyes and stretched himself +on Dannie's bed. It did not occur to him that he was sprawled across it +in such a fashion that if Dannie had any sleep that night, he had taken +it on chairs before the fireplace. At first Jimmy decided that he had a +head on him, and would turn over and go back where he came from. Then +he thought of the coon hunt, and sitting on the edge of the bed he +laughed, as he looked about for his boots. + +"I am glad ye are feeling so fine," said Dannie at the door, in a +relieved voice. "I had a notion that ye wad be crosser than a badger +when ye came to." + +Jimmy laughed on. + +"What's the fun?" inquired Dannie. + +Jimmy thought hard a minute. Here was one instance where the truth +would serve better than any invention, so he virtuously told Dannie all +about it. Dannie thought of the lonely little woman next door, and +rebelled. + +"But, Jimmy!" he cried, "ye canna be gone all nicht again. It's too +lonely fra Mary, and there's always a chance I might sleep sound and +wadna hear if she should be sick or need ye." + +"Then she can just yell louder, or come after you, or get well, for I +am going, see? He was a thrid peddler in a dinky little pleated coat, +Dannie. He laid up against the counter with his feet crossed at a +dancing-girl angle. But I will say for him that he was running at the +mouth with the finest flow of language I iver heard. I learned a lot of +it, and Cap knows the stuff, and I'm goin' to have him get you the +book. But, Dannie, he wouldn't drink with us, but he stayed to iducate +us up a little. That little spool man, Dannie, iducatin' Jones of the +gravel gang, and Bingham of the Standard, and York of the 'lectric +railway, and Haines of the timber gang, not to mintion the champeen +rat-catcher of the Wabash." + +Jimmy hugged himself, and rocked on the edge of the bed. + +"Oh, I can just see it, Dannie," he cried. "I can just see it now! I +was pretty drunk, but I wasn't too drunk to think of it, and it came to +me sudden like." + +Dannie stared at Jimmy wide-eyed, while he explained the details, and +then he too began to laugh, and the longer he laughed the funnier it +grew. + +"I've got to start," said Jimmy. "I've an awful afternoon's work. I +must find him some rubber boots. He's to have the inestimable privilege +of carryin' me gun, Dannie, and have the first shot at the coons, +fifty, I'm thinkin' I said. And if I don't put some frills on his cute +little coat! Oh, Dannie, it will break the heart of me if he don't wear +that pleated coat!" + +Dannie wiped his eyes. + +"Come on to the kitchen," he said, "I've something ready fra ye to eat. +Wash, while I dish it." + +"I wish to Heaven you were a woman, Dannie," said Jimmy. "A fellow +could fall in love with you, and marry you with some satisfaction. +Crimminy, but I'm hungry!" + +Jimmy ate greedily, and Dannie stepped about setting the cabin to +rights. It lacked many feminine touches that distinguished Jimmy's as +the abode of a woman; but it was neat and clean, and there seemed to be +a place where everything belonged. + +"Now, I'm off," said Jimmy, rising. "I'll take your gun, because I +ain't goin' to see Mary till I get back." + +"Oh, Jimmy, dinna do that!" pleaded Dannie. "I want my gun. Go and get +your own, and tell her where ye are going and what ye are going to do. +She'd feel less lonely." + +"I know how she would feel better than you do," retorted Jimmy. "I am +not going. If you won't give me your gun, I'll borrow one; or have all +my fun spoiled." + +Dannie took down the shining gun and passed it over. Jimmy instantly +relented. He smiled an old boyish smile, that always caught Dannie in +his softest spot. + +"You are the bist frind I have on earth, Dannie," he said winsomely. +"You are a man worth tying to. By gum, there's NOTHING I wouldn't do +for you! Now go on, like the good fellow you are, and fix it up with +Mary." + +So Dannie started for the wood pile. In summer he could stand outside +and speak through the screen. In winter he had to enter the cabin for +errands like this, and as Jimmy's wood box was as heavily weighted on +his mind as his own, there was nothing unnatural in his stamping snow +on Jimmy's back stoop, and calling "Open!" to Mary at any hour of the +day he happened to be passing the wood pile. + +He stood at a distance, and patiently waited until a gray and black +nut-hatch that foraged on the wood covered all the new territory +discovered by the last disturbance of the pile. From loosened bark +Dannie watched the bird take several good-sized white worms and a few +dormant ants. As it flew away he gathered an armload of wood. He was +very careful to clean his feet on the stoop, place the wood without +tearing the neat covering of wall paper, and brush from his coat the +snow and moss so that it fell in the box. He had heard Mary tell the +careless Jimmy to do all these things, and Dannie knew that they saved +her work. There was a whiteness on her face that morning that startled +him, and long after the last particle of moss was cleaned from his +sleeve he bent over the box trying to get something said. The cleaning +took such a length of time that the glint of a smile crept into the +grave eyes of the woman, and the grim line of her lips softened. + +"Don't be feeling so badly about it, Dannie," she said. "I could have +told you when you went after him last night that he would go back as +soon as he wakened to-day. I know he is gone. I watched him lave." + +Dannie brushed the other sleeve, on which there had been nothing at the +start, and answered: "Noo, dinna ye misjudge him, Mary. He's goin' to a +coon hunt to-nicht. Dinna ye see him take my gun?" + +This evidence so bolstered Dannie that he faced Mary with confidence. + +"There's a traveling man frae Boston in town, Mary, and he was edifying +the boys a little, and Jimmy dinna like it. He's going to show him a +little country sport to-nicht to edify him." + +Dannie outlined the plan of Jimmy's campaign. Despite disapproval, and +a sore heart, Mary Malone had to smile--perhaps as much over Dannie's +eagerness in telling what was contemplated as anything. + +"Why don't you take Jimmy's gun and go yoursilf?" she asked. "You +haven't had a day off since fishing was over." + +"But I have the work to do," replied Dannie, "and I couldna leave--" He +broke off abruptly, but the woman supplied the word. + +"Why can't you lave me, if Jimmy can? I'm not afraid. The snow and the +cold will furnish me protiction to-night. There'll be no one to fear. +Why should you do Jimmy's work, and miss the sport, to guard the thing +he holds so lightly?" + +The red flushed Dannie's cheeks. Mary never before had spoken like +that. He had to say something for Jimmy quickly, and quickness was not +his forte. His lips opened, but nothing came; for as Jimmy had boasted, +Dannie never lied, except for him, and at those times he had careful +preparation before he faced Mary. Now, he was overtaken unawares. He +looked so boyish in his confusion, the mother in Mary's heart was +touched. + +"I'll till you what we'll do, Dannie," she said. "You tind the stock, +and get in wood enough so that things won't be frazin' here; and then +you hitch up and I'll go with you to town, and stay all night with Mrs. +Dolan. You can put the horse in my sister's stable, and whin you and +Jimmy get back, you'll be tired enough that you'll be glad to ride +home. A visit with Katie will be good for me; I have been blue the last +few days, and I can see you are just aching to go with the boys. Isn't +that a fine plan?" + +"I should say that IS a guid plan," answered the delighted Dannie. +Anything to save Mary another night alone was good, and then--that coon +hunt did sound alluring. + +And that was how it happened that at nine o'clock that night, just as +arrangements were being completed at Casey's, Dannie Macnoun stepped +into the group and said to the astonished Jimmy: "Mary wanted to come +to her sister's over nicht, so I fixed everything, and I'm going to the +coon hunt, too, if you boys want me." + +The crowd closed around Dannie, patted his back and cheered him, and he +was introduced to Mister O'Khayam, of Boston, who tried to drown the +clamor enough to tell what his name really was, "in case of accident"; +but he couldn't be heard for Jimmy yelling that a good old Irish name +like O'Khayam couldn't be beat in case of anything. And Dannie took a +hasty glance at the Thread Man, to see if he wore that hated pleated +coat, which lay at the bottom of Jimmy's anger. + +Then they started. Casey's wife was to be left in charge of the saloon, +and the Thread Man half angered Casey by a whispered conversation with +her in a corner. Jimmy cut his crowd as low as he possibly could, but +it numbered fifteen men, and no one counted the dogs. Jimmy led the +way, the Thread Man beside him, and the crowd followed. The walking +would be best to follow the railroad to the Canoper, and also they +could cross the railroad bridge over the river and save quite a +distance. + +Jimmy helped the Thread Man into a borrowed overcoat and mittens, and +loaded him with a twelve-pound gun, and they started. Jimmy carried a +torch, and as torch bearer he was a rank failure, for he had a careless +way of turning it and flashing it into people's faces that compelled +them to jump to save themselves. Where the track lay clear and straight +ahead the torch seemed to light it like day; but in dark places it was +suddenly lowered or wavering somewhere else. It was through this +carelessness of Jimmy's that at the first cattle-guard north of the +village the torch flickered backward, ostensibly to locate Dannie, and +the Thread Man went crashing down between the iron bars, and across the +gun. Instantly Jimmy sprawled on top of him, and the next two men +followed suit. The torch plowed into the snow and went out, and the +yells of Jimmy alarmed the adjoining village. + +He was hurt the worst of all, and the busiest getting in marching order +again. "Howly smoke!" he panted. "I was havin' the time of me life, and +plum forgot that cow-kitcher. Thought it was a quarter of a mile away +yet. And liked to killed meself with me carelessness. But that's always +the way in true sport. You got to take the knocks with the fun." No one +asked the Thread Man if he was hurt, and he did not like to seem +unmanly by mentioning a skinned shin, when Jimmy Malone seemed to have +bursted most of his inside; so he shouldered his gun and limped along, +now slightly in the rear of Jimmy. The river bridge was a serious +matter with its icy coat, and danger of specials, and the torches +suddenly flashed out from all sides; and the Thread Man gave thanks for +Dannie Macnoun, who reached him a steady hand across the ties. The walk +was three miles, and the railroad lay at from twenty to thirty feet +elevation along the river and through the bottom land. The Boston man +would have been thankful for the light, but as the last man stepped +from the ties of the bridge all the torches went out save one. Jimmy +explained they simply had to save them so that they could see where the +coon fell when they began to shake the coon tree. + +Just beside the water tank, and where the embankment was twenty feet +sheer, Jimmy was cautioning the Boston man to look out, when the hunter +next behind him gave a wild yell and plunged into his back. Jimmy's +grab for him seemed more a push than a pull, and the three rolled to +the bottom, and half way across the flooded ditch. The ditch was frozen +over, but they were shaken, and smothered in snow. The whole howling +party came streaming down the embankment. Dannie held aloft his torch +and discovered Jimmy lying face down in a drift, making no effort to +rise, and the Thread Man feebly tugging at him and imploring some one +to come and help get Malone out. Then Dannie slunk behind the others +and yelled until he was tired. + +By and by Jimmy allowed himself to be dragged out. + +"Who the thunder was that come buttin' into us?" he blustered. "I don't +allow no man to butt into me when I'm on an imbankmint. Send the fool +back here till I kill him." + +The Thread Man was pulling at Jimmy's arm. "Don't mind, Jimmy," he +gasped. "It was an accident! The man slipped. This is an awful place. I +will be glad when we reach the woods. I'll feel safer with ground +that's holding up trees under my feet. Come on, now! Are we not almost +there? Should we not keep quiet from now on? Will we not alarm the +coons?" + +"Sure," said Jimmy. "Boys, don't hollo so much. Every blamed coon will +be scared out of its hollow!" + +"Amazing!" said the Thread Man. "How clever! Came on the spur of the +moment. I must remember that to tell the Club. Do not hollo. Scare the +coon out of its hollow!" + +"Oh, I do miles of things like that," said Jimmy dryly, "and mostly I +have to do thim before the spur of the moment; because our moments go +so domn fast out here mighty few of thim have time to grow their spurs +before they are gone. Here's where we turn. Now, boys, they've been +trying to get this biler across the tracks here, and they've broke the +ice. The water in this ditch is three feet deep and freezing cold. +They've stuck getting the biler over, but I wonder if we can't cross on +it, and hit the wood beyond. Maybe we can walk it." + +Jimmy set a foot on the ice-covered boiler, howled, and fell back on +the men behind him. "Jimminy crickets, we niver can do that!" he +yelled. "It's a glare of ice and roundin'. Let's crawl through it! The +rist of you can get through if I can. We'd better take off our +overcoats, to make us smaller. We can roll thim into a bundle, and the +last man can pull it through behind him." + +Jimmy threw off his coat and entered the wrecked oil engine. He knew +how to hobble through on his toes, but the pleated coat of the Boston +man, who tried to pass through by stooping, got almost all Jimmy had in +store for it. Jimmy came out all right with a shout. The Thread Man did +not step half so far, and landed knee deep in the icy oil-covered slush +of the ditch. That threw him off his balance, and Jimmy let him sink +one arm in the pool, and then grabbed him, and scooped oil on his back +with the other hand as he pulled. During the excitement and struggles +of Jimmy and the Thread Man, the rest of the party jumped the ditch and +gathered about, rubbing soot and oil on the Boston man, and he did not +see how they crossed. + +Jimmy continued to rub oil and soot into the hated coat industriously. +The dogs leaped the ditch, and the instant they struck the woods broke +away baying over fresh tracks. The men yelled like mad. Jimmy struggled +into his overcoat, and helped the almost insane Boston man into his and +then they hurried after the dogs. + +The scent was so new and clear the dogs simply raged. The Thread Man +was wild, Jimmy was wilder, and the thirteen contributed all they could +for laughing. Dannie forgot to be ashamed of himself and followed the +example of the crowd. Deeper and deeper into the wild, swampy Canoper +led the chase. With a man on either side to guide him into the deepest +holes and to shove him into bushy thickets, the skinned, soot-covered, +oil-coated Boston man toiled and sweated. He had no time to think, the +excitement was so intense. He scrambled out of each pitfall set for +him, and plunged into the next with such uncomplaining bravery that +Dannie very shortly grew ashamed, and crowding up beside him he took +the heavy gun and tried to protect him all he could without falling +under the eye of Jimmy, who was keeping close watch on the Boston man. + +Wild yelling told that the dogs had treed, and with shaking fingers the +Thread Man pulled off the big mittens he wore and tried to lift the +gun. Jimmy flashed a torch, and sure enough, in the top of a medium +hickory tree, the light was reflected in streams from the big shining +eyes of a coon. "Treed!" yelled Jimmy frantically. "Treed! and big as +an elephant. Company's first shot. Here, Mister O'Khayam, here's a good +place to stand. Gee, what luck! Coon in sight first thing, and Mellen's +food coon at that! Shoot, Mister O'Khayam, shoot!" + +The Thread Man lifted the wavering gun, but it was no use. + +"Tell you what, Ruben," said Jimmy. "You are too tired to shoot +straight. Let's take a rist, and ate our lunch. Then we'll cut down the +tree and let the dogs get cooney. That way there won't be any shot +marks in his skin. What do you say? Is that a good plan?" + +They all said that was the proper course, so they built a fire, and +placed the Thread Man where he could see the gleaming eyes of the +frightened coon, and where all of them could feast on his soot and +oil-covered face. Then they opened the bag and passed the sandwiches. + +"I really am hungry," said the weary Thread Man, biting into his with +great relish. His jaws moved once or twice experimentally, and then he +lifted his handkerchief to his lips. + +"I wish 'twas as big as me head," said Jimmy, taking a great bite, and +then he began to curse uproariously. + +"What ails the things?" inquired Dannie, ejecting a mouthful. And then +all of them began to spit birdshot, and started an inquest +simultaneously. Jimmy raged. He swore some enemy had secured the bag +and mined the feast; but the boys who knew him laughed until it seemed +the Thread Man must suspect. He indignantly declared it was a dirty +trick. By the light of the fire he knelt and tried to free one of the +sandwiches from its sprinkling of birdshot, so that it would be fit for +poor Jimmy, who had worked so hard to lead them there and tree the +coon. For the first time Jimmy looked thoughtful. + +But the sight of the Thread Man was too much for him, and a second +later he was thrusting an ax into the hands accustomed to handling a +thread case. Then he led the way to the tree, and began chopping at the +green hickory. It was slow work, and soon the perspiration streamed. +Jimmy pulled off his coat and threw it aside. He assisted the Thread +Man out of his and tossed it behind him. The coat alighted in the fire, +and was badly scorched before it was rescued. But the Thread Man was +game. Fifty times that night it had been said that he was to have the +first coon, of course he should work for it. So with the ax with which +Casey chopped ice for his refrigerator, the Boston man banged against +the hickory, and swore to himself because he could not make the chips +fly as Jimmy did. + +"Iverybody clear out!" cried Jimmy. "Number one is coming down. Get the +coffee sack ready. Baste cooney over the head and shove him in before +the dogs tear the skin. We want a dandy big pelt out of this!" + +There was a crack, and the tree fell with a crash. All the Boston man +could see was that from a tumbled pile of branches, dogs, and men, some +one at last stepped back, gripping a sack, and cried: "Got it all +right, and it's a buster." + +"Now for the other forty-nine!" shouted Jimmy, straining into his coat. + +"Come on, boys, we must secure a coon for every one," cried the Thread +Man, heartily as any member of the party might have said it. But the +rest of the boys suddenly grew tired. They did not want any coons, and +after some persuasion the party agreed to go back to Casey's to warm +up. The Thread Man got into his scorched, besooted, oil-smeared coat, +and the overcoat which had been loaned him, and shouldered the gun. +Jimmy hesitated. But Dannie came up to the Boston man and said: +"There's a place in my shoulder that gun juist fits, and it's lonesome +without it. Pass it over." Only the sorely bruised and strained Thread +Man knew how glad he was to let it go. + +It was Dannie, too, who whispered to the Thread Man to keep close +behind him; and when the party trudged back to Casey's it was so +surprising how much better he knew the way going back than Jimmy had +known it coming out, that the Thread Man did remark about it. But Jimmy +explained that after one had been out a few hours their eyes became +accustomed to the darkness and they could see better. That was +reasonable, for the Thread Man knew it was true in his own experience. + +So they got back to Casey's, and found a long table set, and a steaming +big oyster supper ready for them; and that explained the Thread Man's +conference with Mrs. Casey. He took the head of the table, with his +back to the wall, and placed Jimmy on his right and Dannie on his left. +Mrs. Casey had furnished soap and towels, and at least part of the +Boston man's face was clean. The oysters were fine, and well cooked. +The Thread Man recited more of the wonderful poem for Dannie's benefit, +and told jokes and stories. They laughed until they were so weak they +could only pound the table to indicate how funny it was. And at the +close, just as they were making a movement to rise, Casey proposed that +he bring in the coon, and let all of them get a good look at their +night's work. The Thread Man applauded, and Casey brought in the bag +and shook it bottom up over the floor. Therefrom there issued a poor, +frightened, maltreated little pet coon of Mrs. Casey's, and it +dexterously ran up Casey's trouser leg and hid its nose in his collar, +its chain dragging behind. And that was so funny the boys doubled over +the table, and laughed and screamed until a sudden movement brought +them to their senses. + +The Thread Man was on his feet, and his eyes were no laughing matter. +He gripped his chair back, and leaned toward Jimmy. "You walked me into +that cattle-guard on purpose!" he cried. + +Silence. + +"You led me into that boiler, and fixed the oil at the end!" + +No answer. + +"You mauled me all over the woods, and loaded those sandwiches +yourself, and sored me for a week trying to chop down a tree with a pet +coon chained in it! You----! You----! What had I done to you?" + +"You wouldn't drink with me, and I didn't like the domned, dinky, +little pleated coat you wore," answered Jimmy. + +One instant amazement held sway on the Thread Man's face; the next, +"And damned if I like yours!" he cried, and catching up a bowl half +filled with broth he flung it squarely into Jimmy's face. + +Jimmy, with a great oath, sprang at the Boston man. But once in his +life Dannie was quick. For the only time on record he was ahead of +Jimmy, and he caught the uplifted fist in a grip that Jimmy's use of +whiskey and suffering from rheumatism had made his master. + +"Steady--Jimmy, wait a minute," panted Dannie. "This mon is na even wi' +ye yet. When every muscle in your body is strained, and every inch of +it bruised, and ye are daubed wi' soot, and bedraggled in oil, and he's +made ye the laughin' stock fra strangers by the hour, ye will be juist +even, and ready to talk to him. Every minute of the nicht he's proved +himself a mon, and right now he's showed he's na coward. It's up to ye, +Jimmy. Do it royal. Be as much of a mon as he is. Say ye are sorry!" + +One tense instant the two friends faced each other. + +Then Jimmy's fist unclenched, and his arms dropped. Dannie stepped +back, trying to breathe lightly, and it was between Jimmy and the +Thread Man. + +"I am sorry," said Jimmy. "I carried my objictions to your wardrobe too +far. If you'll let me, I'll clean you up. If you'll take it, I'll raise +you the price of a new coat, but I'll be domn if I'll hilp put such a +man as you are into another of the fiminine ginder." + +The Thread Man laughed, and shook Jimmy's hand; and then Jimmy proved +why every one liked him by turning to Dannie and taking his hand. +"Thank you, Dannie," he said. "You sure hilped me to mesilf that time. +If I'd hit him, I couldn't have hild up me head in the morning." + + + +Chapter IV + +WHEN THE KINGFISHER AND THE BLACK BASS CAME HOME + +"Crimminy, but you are slow." Jimmy made the statement, not as one +voices a newly discovered fact, but as one iterates a time-worn truism. +He sat on a girder of the Limberlost bridge, and scraped the black muck +from his boots in a little heap. Then he twisted a stick into the top +of his rat sack, preparatory to his walk home. The ice had broken on +the river, and now the partners had to separate at the bridge, each +following his own line of traps to the last one, and return to the +bridge so that Jimmy could cross to reach home. Jimmy was always +waiting, after the river opened, and it was a remarkable fact to him +that as soon as the ice was gone his luck failed him. This evening the +bag at his feet proved by its bulk that it contained just about +one-half the rats Dannie carried. + +"I must set my traps in my own way," answered Dannie calmly. "If I +stuck them into the water ony way and went on, so would the rats. A +trap is no a trap unless it is concealed." + +"That's it! Go on and give me a sarmon!" urged Jimmy derisively. "Who's +got the bulk of the rats all winter? The truth is that my side of the +river is the best catching in the extrame cold, and you get the most +after the thaws begin to come. The rats seem to have a lot of burrows +and shift around among thim. One time I'm ahead, and the nixt day they +go to you: But it don't mane that you are any better TRAPPER than I am. +I only got siven to-night. That's a sweet day's work for a whole man. +Fifteen cints apace for sivin rats. I've a big notion to cut the rat +business, and compete with Rocky in ile." + +Dannie laughed. "Let's hurry home, and get the skinning over before +nicht," he said. "I think the days are growing a little longer. I seem +to scent spring in the air to-day." + +Jimmy looked at Dannie's mud-covered, wet clothing, his blood-stained +mittens and coat back, and the dripping bag he had rested on the +bridge. "I've got some music in me head, and some action in me feet," +he said, "but I guess God forgot to put much sintimint into me heart. +The breath of spring niver got so strong with me that I could smell it +above a bag of muskrats and me trappin' clothes." + +He arose, swung his bag to his shoulder, and together they left the +bridge, and struck the road leading to Rainbow Bottom. It was late +February. The air was raw, and the walking heavy. Jimmy saw little +around him, and there was little Dannie did not see. To him, his farm, +the river, and the cabins in Rainbow Bottom meant all there was of +life, for all he loved on earth was there. But loafing in town on rainy +days, when Dannie sat with a book; hearing the talk at Casey's, at the +hotel, and on the streets, had given Jimmy different views of life, and +made his lot seem paltry compared with that of men who had greater +possessions. On days when Jimmy's luck was bad, or when a fever of +thirst burned him, he usually discoursed on some sort of intangible +experience that men had, which he called "seeing life." His rat bag was +unusually light that night, and in a vague way he connected it with the +breaking up of the ice. When the river lay solid he usually carried +home just twice the rats Dannie had, and as he had patronized Dannie +all his life, it fretted Jimmy to be behind even one day at the traps. + +"Be Jasus, I get tired of this!" he said. "Always and foriver the same +thing. I kape goin' this trail so much that I've got a speakin' +acquaintance with meself. Some of these days I'm goin' to take a trip, +and have a little change. I'd like to see Chicago, and as far west as +the middle, anyway." + +"Well, ye canna go," said Dannie. "Ye mind the time when ye were +married, and I thought I'd be best away, and packed my trunk? When ye +and Mary caught me, ye got mad as fire, and she cried, and I had to +stay. Just ye try going, and I'll get mad, and Mary will cry, and ye +will stay at home, juist like I did." + +There was a fear deep in Dannie's soul that some day Jimmy would +fulfill this long-time threat of his. "I dinna think there is ony place +in all the world so guid as the place ye own," Dannie said earnestly. +"I dinna care a penny what anybody else has, probably they have what +they want. What _I_ want is the land that my feyther owned before me, +and the house that my mither kept. And they'll have to show me the +place they call Eden before I'll give up that it beats Rainbow +Bottom--Summer, Autumn, or Winter. I dinna give twa hoops fra the +palaces men rig up, or the thing they call 'landscape gardening'. When +did men ever compete with the work of God? All the men that have +peopled the earth since time began could have their brains rolled into +one, and he would stand helpless before the anatomy of one of the rats +in these bags. The thing God does is guid enough fra me." + +"Why don't you take a short cut to the matin'-house?" inquired Jimmy. + +"Because I wad have nothing to say when I got there," retorted Dannie. +"I've a meetin'-house of my ain, and it juist suits me; and I've a God, +too, and whether He is spirit or essence, He suits me. I dinna want to +be held to sharper account than He faces me up to, when I hold +communion with mesel'. I dinna want any better meetin'-house than +Rainbow Bottom. I dinna care for better talkin' than the 'tongues in +the trees'; sounder preachin' than the 'sermons in the stones'; finer +readin' than the books in the river; no, nor better music than the +choir o' the birds, each singin' in its ain way fit to burst its leetle +throat about the mate it won, the nest they built, and the babies they +are raising. That's what I call the music o' God, spontaneous, and the +soul o' joy. Give it me every time compared with notes frae a book. And +all the fine places that the wealth o' men ever evolved winna begin to +compare with the work o' God, and I've got that around me every day." + +"But I want to see life," wailed Jimmy. + +"Then open your eyes, mon, fra the love o' mercy, open your eyes! +There's life sailing over your heid in that flock o' crows going home +fra the night. Why dinna ye, or some other mon, fly like that? There's +living roots, and seeds, and insects, and worms by the million wherever +ye are setting foot. Why dinna ye creep into the earth and sleep +through the winter, and renew your life with the spring? The trouble +with ye, Jimmy, is that ye've always followed your heels. If ye'd +stayed by the books, as I begged ye, there now would be that in your +heid that would teach ye that the old story of the Rainbow is true. +There is a pot of gold, of the purest gold ever smelted, at its foot, +and we've been born, and own a good living richt there. An' the gold is +there; that I know, wealth to shame any bilious millionaire, and both +of us missing the pot when we hold the location. Ye've the first +chance, mon, fra in your life is the great prize mine will forever +lack. I canna get to the bottom of the pot, but I'm going to come close +to it as I can; and as for ye, empty it! Take it all! It's yours! It's +fra the mon who finds it, and we own the location." + +"Aha! We own the location," repeated Jimmy. "I should say we do! Behold +our hotbed of riches! I often lay awake nights thinkin' about my +attachmint to the place. + + "How dear to me heart are the scanes of me childhood, + Fondly gaze on the cabin where I'm doomed to dwell, + Those chicken-coop, thim pig-pen, these highly piled-wood + Around which I've always raised Hell." + + +Jimmy turned in at his own gate, while Dannie passed to the cabin +beyond. He entered, set the dripping rat bag in a tub, raked open the +buried fire and threw on a log. He always ate at Jimmy's when Jimmy was +at home, so there was no supper to get. He went out to the barn, wading +mud ankle deep, fed and bedded his horses, and then went over to +Jimmy's barn, and completed his work up to milking. Jimmy came out with +the pail, and a very large hole in the bottom of it was covered with +dried dough. Jimmy looked at it disapprovingly. + +"I bought a new milk pail the other night. I know I did," he said. +"Mary was kicking for one a month ago, and I went after it the night I +met Ruben O'Khayam. Now what the nation did I do with that pail?" + +"I have wondered mysel'," answered Dannie, as he leaned over and lifted +a strange looking object from a barrel. "This is what ye brought home, +Jimmy." + +Jimmy stared at the shining, battered, bullet-punctured pail in +amazement. Slowly he turned it over and around, and then he lifted +bewildered eyes to Dannie. + +"Are you foolin'?" he asked. "Did I bring that thing home in that +shape?" + +"Honest!" said Dannie. + +"I remember buyin' it," said Jimmy slowly. "I remember hanging on to it +like grim death, for it was the wan excuse I had for goin', but I don't +just know how--!" Slowly he revolved the pail, and then he rolled over +in the hay and laughed until he was tired. Then he sat up and wiped his +eyes. "Great day! What a lot of fun I must have had before I got that +milk pail into that shape," he said. "Domned if I don't go straight to +town and buy another one; yes, bedad! I'll buy two!" + +In the meantime Dannie milked, fed and watered the cattle, and Jimmy +picked up the pail of milk and carried it to the house. Dannie came by +the wood pile and brought in a heavy load. Then they washed, and sat +down to supper. + +"Seems to me you look unusually perky," said Jimmy to his wife. "Had +any good news?" + +"Splendid!" said Mary. "I am so glad! And I don't belave you two +stupids know!" + +"You niver can tell by lookin' at me what I know," said Jimmy. "Whin I +look the wisest I know the least. Whin I look like a fool, I'm thinkin' +like a philosopher." + +"Give it up," said Dannie promptly. You would not catch him knowing +anything it would make Mary's eyes shine to tell. + +"Sap is running!" announced Mary. + +"The Divil you say!" cried Jimmy. + +"It is!" beamed Mary. "It will be full in three days. Didn't you notice +how green the maples are? I took a little walk down to the bottom +to-day. I niver in all my life was so tired of winter, and the first +thing I saw was that wet look on the maples, and on the low land, where +they are sheltered and yet get the sun, several of them are oozing!" + +"Grand!" cried Dannie. "Jimmy, we must peel those rats in a hurry, and +then clean the spiles, and see how mony new ones we will need. +To-morrow we must come frae the traps early and look up our troughs." + +"Oh, for pity sake, don't pile up work enough to kill a horse," cried +Jimmy. "Ain't you ever happy unless you are workin'?" + +"Yes," said Dannie. "Sometimes I find a book that suits me, and +sometimes the fish bite, and sometimes it's in the air." + +"Git the condinser" said Jimmy. "And that reminds me, Mary, Dannie +smelled spring in the air to-day." + +"Well, what if he did?" questioned Mary. "I can always smell it. A +little later, when the sap begins to run in all the trees, and the buds +swell, and the ice breaks up, and the wild geese go over, I always +scent spring; and when the catkins bloom, then it comes strong, and I +just love it. Spring is my happiest time. I have more news, too!" + +"Don't spring so much at wance!" cried Jimmy, "you'll spoil my +appetite." + +"I guess there's no danger," replied Mary. + +"There is," said Jimmy. "At laste in the fore siction. 'Appe' is +Frinch, and manes atin'. 'Tite' is Irish, and manes drinkin'. Appetite +manes atin' and drinkin' togither. 'Tite' manes drinkin' without atin', +see?" + +"I was just goin' to mintion it meself," said Mary, "it's where you +come in strong. There's no danger of anybody spoilin' your drinkin', if +they could interfere with your atin'. You guess, Dannie." + +"The dominick hen is setting," ventured Dannie, and Mary's face showed +that he had blundered on the truth. + +"She is," affirmed Mary, pouring the tea, "but it is real mane of you +to guess it, when I've so few new things to tell. She has been setting +two days, and she went over fifteen fresh eggs to-day. In just +twinty-one days I will have fiftane the cunningest little chickens you +ever saw, and there is more yet. I found the nest of the gray goose, +and there are three big eggs in it, all buried in feathers. She must +have stripped her breast almost bare to cover them. And I'm the +happiest I've been all winter. I hate the long, lonely, shut-in time. I +am going on a delightful spree. I shall help boil down sugar-water and +make maple syrup. I shall set hins, and geese, and turkeys. I shall +make soap, and clane house, and plant seed, and all my flowers will +bloom again. Goody for summer; it can't come too soon to suit me." + +"Lord! I don't see what there is in any of those things," said Jimmy. +"I've got just one sign of spring that interests me. If you want to see +me caper, somebody mention to me the first rattle of the Kingfisher. +Whin he comes home, and house cleans in his tunnel in the embankment, +and takes possession of his stump in the river, the nixt day the Black +Bass locates in the deep water below the shoals. THIN you can count me +in. There is where business begins for Jimmy boy. I am going to have +that Bass this summer, if I don't plant an acre of corn." + +"I bet you that's the truth!" said Mary, so quickly that both men +laughed. + +"Ahem!" said Dannie. "Then I will have to do my plowing by a heidlicht, +so I can fish as much as ye do in the day time. I hereby make, enact, +and enforce a law that neither of us is to fish in the Bass hole when +the other is not there to fish also. That is the only fair way. I've as +much richt to him as ye have." + +"Of course!" said Mary. "That is a fair way. Make that a rule, and kape +it. If you both fish at once, it's got to be a fair catch for the one +that lands it; but whoever catches it, _I_ shall ate it, so it don't +much matter to me." + +"You ate it!" howled Jimnmy. "I guess not. Not a taste of that fish, +when he's teased me for years? He's as big as a whale. If Jonah had had +the good fortune of falling in the Wabash, and being swallowed by the +Black Bass, he could have ridden from Peru to Terre Haute, and suffered +no inconvanience makin' a landin'. Siven pounds he'll weigh by the +steelyard I'll wager you." + +"Five, Jimmy, five," corrected Dannie. + +"Siven!" shouted Jimmy. "Ain't I hooked him repeated? Ain't I seen him +broadside? I wonder if thim domn lines of mine have gone and rotted." + +He left his supper, carrying his chair, and standing on it he began +rummaging the top shelf of the cupboard for his box of tackle. He +knocked a bottle from the shelf, but caught it in mid-air with a +dexterous sweep. + +"Spirits are movin'," cried Jimmy, as he restored the camphor to its +place. He carried the box to the window, and became so deeply engrossed +in its contents that he did not notice when Dannie picked up his rat +bag and told him to come on and help skin their day's catch. Mary tried +to send him, and he was going in a minute, but the minute stretched and +stretched, and both of them were surprised when the door opened and +Dannie entered with an armload of spiles, and the rat-skinning was all +over. So Jimmy went on unwinding lines, and sharpening hooks, and +talking fish; while Dannie and Mary cleaned the spiles, and figured on +how many new elders must be cut and prepared for more on the morrow; +and planned the sugar making. + +When it was bedtime, and Dannie had gone an Jimmy and Mary closed their +cabin for the night, Mary stepped to the window that looked on Dannie's +home to see if his light was burning. It was, and clear in its rays +stood Dannie, stripping yard after yard of fine line through his +fingers, and carefully examining it. Jimmy came and stood beside her as +she wondered. + +"Why, the domn son of the Rainbow," he cried, "if he ain't testing his +fish lines!" + +The next day Mary Malone was rejoicing when the men returned from +trapping, and gathering and cleaning the sugar-water troughs. There had +been a robin at the well. + +"Kape your eye on, Mary" advised Jimmy. "If she ain't watched close +from this time on, she'll be settin' hins in snowdrifts, and pouring +biling water on the daffodils to sprout them." + +On the first of March, five killdeers flew over in a flock, and a half +hour later one straggler crying piteously followed in their wake. + +"Oh, the mane things!" almost sobbed Mary. "Why don't they wait for it?" + +She stood by a big kettle of boiling syrup at the sugar camp, almost +helpless in Jimmy's boots and Dannie's great coat. Jimmy cut and +carried wood, and Dannie hauled sap. All the woods were stirred by the +smell of the curling smoke and the odor of the boiling sap, fine as the +fragrance of flowers. Bright-eyed deer mice peeped at her from under +old logs, the chickadees, nuthatches, and jays started an investigating +committee to learn if anything interesting to them was occurring. One +gayly-dressed little sapsucker hammered a tree near by and scolded +vigorously. + +"Right you are!" said Mary. "It's a pity you're not big enough to drive +us from the woods, for into one kittle goes enough sap to last you a +lifetime." + +The squirrels were sure it was an intrusion, and raced among the +branches overhead, barking loud defiance. At night the three rode home +on the sled, with the syrup jugs beside them, and Mary's apron was +filled with big green rolls of pungent woolly-dog moss. + +Jimmy built the fires, Dannie fed the stock, and Mary cooked the +supper. When it was over, while the men warmed chilled feet and fingers +by the fire, Mary poured some syrup into a kettle, and just as it +"sugared off" she dipped streams of the amber sweetness into cups of +water. All of them ate it like big children, and oh, but it was good! +Two days more of the same work ended sugar making, but for the next +three days Dannie gathered the rapidly diminishing sap for the vinegar +barrel. + +Then there were more hens ready to set, water must be poured hourly +into the ash hopper to start the flow of lye for soap making, and the +smoke house must be gotten ready to cure the hams and pickled meats, so +that they would keep during warm weather. The bluebells were pushing +through the sod in a race with the Easter and star flowers. One morning +Mary aroused Jimmy with a pull at his arm. + +"Jimmy, Jimmy," she cried. "Wake up!" + +"Do you mane, wake up, or get up?" asked Jimmy sleepily. + +"Both," cried Mary. "The larks are here!" + +A little later Jimmy shouted from the back door to the barn: "Dannie, +do you hear the larks?" + +"Ye bet I do," answered Dannie. "Heard ane goin' over in the nicht. How +long is it now till the Kingfisher comes?" + +"Just a little while," said Jimmy. "If only these March storms would +let up 'stid of down! He can't come until he can fish, you know. He's +got to have crabs and minnies to live on." + +A few days later the green hylas began to pipe in the swamps, the +bullfrogs drummed among the pools in the bottom, the doves cooed in the +thickets, and the breath of spring was in the nostrils of all creation, +for the wind was heavy with the pungent odor of catkin pollen. The +spring flowers were two inches high. The peonies and rhubarb were +pushing bright yellow and red cones through the earth. The old gander, +leading his flock along the Wabash, had hailed passing flocks bound +northward until he was hoarse; and the Brahma rooster had threshed the +yellow dorkin until he took refuge under the pig pen, and dare not +stick out his unprotected head. + +The doors had stood open at supper time, and Dannie staid up late, +mending and oiling the harness. Jimmy sat by cleaning his gun, for to +his mortification he had that day missed killing a crow which stole +from the ash hopper the egg with which Mary tested the strength of the +lye. In a basket behind the kitchen stove fifteen newly hatched yellow +chickens, with brown stripes on their backs, were peeping and nestling; +and on wing the killdeers cried half the night. At two o'clock in the +morning came a tap on the Malone's bedroom window. + +"Dannie?" questioned Mary, half startled. + +"Tell Jimmy!" cried Dannie's breathless voice outside. "Tell him the +Kingfisher has juist struck the river!" + +Jimmy sat straight up in bed. + +"Then glory be!" he cried. "To-morrow the Black Bass comes home!" + + + +Chapter V + +WHEN THE RAINBOW SET ITS ARCH IN THE SKY + +"Where did Jimmy go?" asked Mary. + +Jimmy had been up in time to feed the chickens and carry in the milk, +but he disappeared shortly after breakfast. + +Dannie almost blushed as he answered: "He went to take a peep at the +river. It's going down fast. When it gets into its regular channel, +spawning will be over and the fish will come back to their old places. +We figure that the Black Bass will be home to-day." + +"When you go digging for bait," said Mary, "I wonder if the two of you +could make it convanient to spade an onion bed. If I had it spaded I +could stick the sets mesilf." + +"Now, that amna fair, Mary," said Dannie. "We never went fishing till +the garden was made, and the crops at least wouldna suffer. We'll make +the beds, of course, juist as soon as they can be spaded, and plant the +seed, too." + +"I want to plant the seeds mesilf," said Mary. + +"And we dinna want ye should," replied Dannie. "All we want ye to do, +is to boss." + +"But I'm going to do the planting mesilf," Mary was emphatic. "It will +be good for me to be in the sunshine, and I do enjoy working in the +dirt, so that for a little while I'm happy." + +"If ye want to put the onions in the highest place, I should think I +could spade ane bed now, and enough fra lettuce and radishes." + +Dannie went after a spade, and Mary Malone laughed softly as she saw +that he also carried an old tin can. He tested the earth in several +places, and then called to her: "All right, Mary! Ground in prime +shape. Turns up dry and mellow. We will have the garden started in no +time." + +He had spaded but a minute when Mary saw him run past the window, leap +the fence, and go hurrying down the path to the river. She went to the +door. At the head of the lane stood Jimmy, waving his hat, and the +fresh morning air carried his cry clearly: "Gee, Dannie! Come hear him +splash!" + +Just why that cry, and the sight of Dannie Macnoun racing toward the +river, his spade lying on the upturned earth of her scarcely begun +onion bed, should have made her angry, it would be hard to explain. He +had no tackle or bait, and reason easily could have told her that he +would return shortly, and finish anything she wanted done; but when was +a lonely, disappointed woman ever reasonable? + +She set the dish water on the stove, wiped her hands on her apron, and +walking to the garden, picked up the spade and began turning great +pieces of earth. She had never done rough farm work, such as women all +about her did; she had little exercise during the long, cold winter, +and the first half dozen spadefuls tired her until the tears of +self-pity rolled. + +"I wish there was a turtle as big as a wash tub in the river" she +sobbed, "and I wish it would eat that old Black Bass to the last scale. +And I'm going to take the shotgun, and go over to the embankment, and +poke it into the tunnel, and blow the old Kingfisher through into the +cornfield. Then maybe Dannie won't go off too and leave me. I want this +onion bed spaded right away, so I do." + +"Drop that! Idjit! What you doing?" yelled Jimmy. + +"Mary, ye goose!" panted Dannie, as he came hurrying across the yard. +"Wha' do ye mean? Ye knew I'd be back in a minute! Jimmy juist called +me to hear the Bass splash. I was comin' back. Mary, this amna fair." + +Dannie took the spade from her hand, and Mary fled sobbing to the house. + +"What's the row?" demanded Jimmy of the suffering Dannie. + +"I'd juist started spadin' this onion bed," explained Dannie. "Of +course, she thought we were going to stay all day." + +"With no poles, and no bait, and no grub? She didn't think any such a +domn thing," said Jimmy. "You don't know women! She just got to the +place where it's her time to spill brine, and raise a rumpus about +something, and aisy brathin' would start her. Just let her bawl it out, +and thin--we'll get something dacent for dinner." + +Dannie turned a spadeful of earth and broke it open, and Jimmy squatted +by the can, and began picking out the angle worms. + +"I see where we dinna fish much this summer," said Dannie, as he +waited. "And where we fish close home when we do, and where all the +work is done before we go." + +"Aha, borrow me rose-colored specks!" cried Jimmy. "I don't see +anything but what I've always seen. I'll come and go as I please, and +Mary can do the same. I don't throw no 'jeminy fit' every time a woman +acts the fool a little, and if you'd lived with one fiftane years you +wouldn't either. Of course we'll make the garden. Wish to goodness it +was a beer garden! Wouldn't I like to plant a lot of hop seed and see +rows of little green beer bottles humpin' up the dirt. Oh, my! What all +does she want done?" + +Dannie turned another spadeful of earth and studied the premises, while +Jimmy gathered the worms. + +"Palins all on the fence?" asked Dannie. + +"Yep," said Jimmy. + +"Well, the yard is to be raked." + +"Yep." + +"The flooer beds spaded." + +"Yep." + +"Stones around the peonies, phlox, and hollyhocks raised and manure +worked in. All the trees must be pruned, the bushes and vines trimmed, +and the gooseberries, currants, and raspberries thinned. The strawberry +bed must be fixed up, and the rhubarb and asparagus spaded around and +manured. This whole garden must be made----" + +"And the road swept, and the gate sandpapered, and the barn +whitewashed! Return to grazing, Nebuchadnezzar," said Jimmy. "We do +what's raisonable, and then we go fishin'. See?" + +Three beds spaded, squared, and ready for seeding lay in the warm +spring sunshine before noon. Jimmy raked the yard, and Dannie trimmed +the gooseberries. Then he wheeled a barrel of swamp loam for a flower +bed by the cabin wall, and listened intently between each shovelful he +threw. He could not hear a sound. What was more, he could not bear it. +He went to Jimmy. + +"Say, Jimmy," he said. "Dinna ye have to gae in fra a drink?" + +"House or town?" inquired Jimmy sweetly. + +"The house!" exploded Dannie. "I dinna hear a sound yet. Ye gae in fra +a drink, and tell Mary I want to know where she'd like the new flooer +bed she's been talking about." + +Jimmy leaned the rake against a tree, and started. + +"And Jimmy," said Dannie. "If she's quit crying, ask her what was the +matter. I want to know." + +Jimmy vanished. Presently he passed Dannie where he worked. + +"Come on," whispered Jimmy. + +The bewildered Dannie followed. Jimmy passed the wood pile, and pig +pen, and slunk around behind the barn, where he leaned against the logs +and held his sides. Dannie stared at him. + +"She says," wheezed Jimmy, "that she guesses SHE wanted to go and hear +the Bass splash, too!" + +Dannie's mouth fell open, and then closed with a snap. + +"Us fra the fool killer!" he said. "Ye dinna let her see ye laugh?" + +"Let her see me laugh!" cried Jimmy. "Let her see me laugh! I told her +she wasn't to go for a few days yet, because we were sawin' the +Kingfisher's stump up into a rustic sate for her, and we were goin' to +carry her out to it, and she was to sit there and sew, and umpire the +fishin', and whichiver bait she told the Bass to take, that one of us +would be gettin' it. And she was pleased as anything, me lad, and now +it's up to us to rig up some sort of a dacint sate, and tag a woman +along half the time. You thick-tongued descindint of a bagpipe baboon, +what did you sind me in there for?" + +"Maybe a little of it will tire her," groaned Dannie. + +"It will if she undertakes to follow me," Jimmy said. "I know where +horse-weeds grow giraffe high." + +Then they went back to work, and presently many savory odors began to +steal from the cabin. Whereat Jimmy looked at Dannie, and winked an +'I-told-you-so' wink. A garden grows fast under the hands of two strong +men really working, and by the time the first slice of sugar-cured ham +from the smoke house for that season struck the sizzling skillet, and +Mary very meekly called from the back door to know if one of them +wanted to dig a little horse radish, the garden was almost ready for +planting. Then they went into the cabin and ate fragrant, thick slices +of juicy fried ham, seasoned with horse radish; fried eggs, freckled +with the ham fat in which they were cooked; fluffy mashed potatoes, +with a little well of melted butter in the center of the mound +overflowing the sides; raisin pie, soda biscuit, and their own maple +syrup. + +"Ohumahoh!" said Jimmy. "I don't know as I hanker for city life so much +as I sometimes think I do. What do you suppose the adulterated stuff we +read about in papers tastes like?" + +"I've often wondered," answered Dannie. "Look at some of the hogs and +cattle that we see shipped from here to city markets. The folks that +sell them would starve before they'd eat a bit o' them, yet somebody +eats them, and what do ye suppose maple syrup made from hickory bark +and brown sugar tastes like?" + +"And cold-storage eggs, and cotton-seed butter, and even horse radish +half turnip," added Mary. "Bate up the cream a little before you put it +in your coffee, or it will be in lumps. Whin the cattle are on clover +it raises so thick." + +Jimmy speared a piece of salt-rising bread crust soaked in ham gravy +made with cream, and said: "I wish I could bring that Thrid Man home +with me to one meal of the real thing nixt time he strikes town. I +belave he would injoy it. May I, Mary?" + +Mary's face flushed slightly. "Depends on whin he comes," she said. "Of +course, if I am cleaning house, or busy with something I can't put +off----" + +"Sure!" cried Jimmy. "I'd ask you before I brought him, because I'd +want him to have something spicial. Some of this ham, and horse radish, +and maple syrup to begin with, and thin your fried spring chicken and +your stewed squirrel is a drame, Mary. Nobody iver makes turtle soup +half so rich as yours, and your green peas in cream, and asparagus on +toast is a rivilation--don't you rimimber 'twas Father Michael that +said it? I ought to be able to find mushrooms in a few weeks, and I can +taste your rhubarb pie over from last year. Gee! But I wish he'd come +in strawberrying! Berries from the vines, butter in the crust, crame +you have to bate to make it smooth--talk about shortcake!" + +"What's wrong wi' cherry cobbler?" asked Dannie. + +"Or blackberry pie?" + +"Or greens cooked wi' bacon?" + +"Or chicken pie?" + +"Or catfish, rolled in cornmeal and fried in ham fat?" + +"Or guineas stewed in cream, with hard-boiled eggs in the gravy?" + +"Oh, stop!" cried the delighted Mary. "It makes me dead tired thinkin' +how I'll iver be cookin' all you'll want. Sure, have him come, and both +of you can pick out the things you like the best, and I'll fix thim for +him. Pure, fresh stuff might be a trate to a city man. When Dolan took +sister Katie to New York with him, his boss sent them to a +five-dollar-a-day house, and they thought they was some up. By the +third day poor Katie was cryin' for a square male. She couldn't touch +the butter, the eggs made her sick, and the cold-storage meat and +chicken never got nearer her stomach than her nose. So she just ate +fish, because they were fresh, and she ate, and she ate, till if you +mintion New York to poor Katie she turns pale, and tastes fish. She +vows and declares that she feeds her chickens and hogs better food +twice a day than people fed her in New York." + +"I'll bet my new milk pail the grub we eat ivery day would be a trate +that would raise him," said Jimmy. "Provided his taste ain't so +depraved with saltpeter and chalk he don't know fresh, pure food whin +he tastes it. I understand some of the victims really don't." + +"Your new milk pail?" questioned Mary. + +"That's what!" said Jimmy. "The next time I go to town I'm goin' to get +you two." + +"But I only need one," protested Mary. "Instead of two, get me a new +dishpan. Mine leaks, and smears the stove and table." + +"Be Gorry!" sighed Jimmy. "There goes me tongue, lettin' me in for it +again. I'll look over the skins, and if any of thim are ripe, I'll get +you a milk pail and a dishpan the nixt time I go to town. And, by gee! +If that dandy big coon hide I got last fall looks good, I'm going to +comb it up, and work the skin fine, and send it to the Thrid Man, with +me complimints. I don't feel right about him yet. Wonder what his name +railly is, and where he lives, or whether I killed him complate." + +"Any dry goods man in town can tell ye," said Dannie. + +"Ask the clerk in the hotel," suggested Mary. + +"You've said it," cried Jimmy. "That's the stuff! And I can find out +whin he will be here again." + +Two hours more they faithfully worked on the garden, and then Jimmy +began to grow restless. + +"Ah, go on!" cried Mary. "You have done all that is needed just now, +and more too. There won't any fish bite to-day, but you can have the +pleasure of stringin' thim poor sufferin' worms on a hook and soaking +thim in the river." + +"'Sufferin' worms!' Sufferin' Job!" cried Jimmy. "What nixt? Go on, +Dannie, get your pole!" + +Dannie went. As he came back Jimmy was sprinkling a thin layer of earth +over the bait in the can. "Why not come along, Mary?" he suggested. + +"I'm not done planting my seeds," she answered. "I'll be tired when I +am, and I thought that place wasn't fixed for me yet." + +"We can't fix that till a little later," said Jimmy. "We can't tell +where it's going to be grassy and shady yet, and the wood is too wet to +fix a sate." + +"Any kind of a sate will do," said Mary. "I guess you better not try to +make one out of the Kingfisher stump. If you take it out it may change +the pool and drive away the Bass." + +"Sure!" cried Jimmy. "What a head you've got! We'll have to find some +other stump for a sate." + +"I don't want to go until it gets dry under foot, and warmer" said +Mary. "You boys go on. I'll till you whin I am riddy to go." + +"There!" said Jimmy, when well on the way to the river. "What did I +tell you? Won't go if she has the chance! Jist wants to be ASKED." + +"I dinna pretend to know women," said Dannie gravely. "But whatever +Mary does is all richt with me." + +"So I've obsarved," remarked Jimmy. "Now, how will we get at this +fishin' to be parfectly fair?" + +"Tell ye what I think," said Dannie. "I think we ought to pick out the +twa best places about the Black Bass pool, and ye take ane fra yours +and I'll take the ither fra mine, and then we'll each fish from his own +place." + +"Nothing fair about that," answered Jimmy. "You might just happen to +strike the bed where he lays most, and be gettin' bites all the time, +and me none; or I might strike it and you be left out. And thin there's +days whin the wind has to do, and the light. We ought to change places +ivery hour." + +"There's nothing fair in that either," broke in Dannie. "I might have +him tolled up to my place, and juist be feedin' him my bait, and here +you'd come along and prove by your watch that my time was up, and take +him when I had him all ready to bite." + +"That's so for you!" hurried in Jimmy. "I'll be hanged if I'd leave a +place by the watch whin I had a strike!" + +"Me either," said Dannie. "'Tis past human nature to ask it. I'll tell +ye what we'll do. We'll go to work and rig up a sort of a bridge where +it's so narrow and shallow, juist above Kingfisher shoals, and then +we'll toss up fra sides. Then each will keep to his side. With a decent +pole either of us can throw across the pool, and both of us can fish as +we please. Then each fellow can pick his bait, and cast or fish deep as +he thinks best. What d'ye say to that?" + +"I don't see how anything could be fairer than that," said Jimmy. "I +don't want to fish for anything but the Bass. I'm goin' back and get +our rubber boots, and you be rollin' logs, and we'll build that +crossing right now." + +"All richt," said Dannie. + +So they laid aside their poles and tackle, and Dannie rolled logs and +gathered material for the bridge, while Jimmy went back after their +boots. Then both of them entered the water and began clearing away +drift and laying the foundations. As the first log of the crossing +lifted above the water Dannie paused. + +"How about the Kingfisher?" he asked. "Winna this scare him away?" + +"Not if he ain't a domn fool," said Jimmy; "and if he is, let him go!" + +"Seems like the river would no be juist richt without him," said +Dannie, breaking off a spice limb and nibbling the fragrant buds. +"Let's only use what we bare need to get across. And where will we fix +fra Mary?" + +"Oh, git out!" said Jimmy. "I ain't goin' to fool with that." + +"Well, we best fix a place. Then we can tell her we fixed it, and it's +all ready." + +"Sure!" cried Jimmy. "You are catchin' it from your neighbor. Till her +a place is all fixed and watin', and you couldn't drag her here with a +team of oxen. Till her you are GOING to fix it soon, and she'll come to +see if you've done it, if she has to be carried on a stritcher." + +So they selected a spot that they thought would be all right for Mary, +and not close enough to disturb the Bass and the Kingfisher, rolled two +logs, and fished a board that had been carried by a freshet from the +water and laid it across them, and decided that would have to serve +until they could do better. + +Then they sat astride the board, Dannie drew out a coin, and they +tossed it to see which was heads and tails. Dannie won heads. Then they +tossed to see which bank was heads or tails, and the right, which was +on Rainbow side, came heads. So Jimmy was to use the bridge. Then they +went home, and began the night work. The first thing Jimmy espied was +the barrel containing the milk pail. He fished out the pail, and while +Dannie fed the stock, shoveled manure, and milked, Jimmy pounded out +the dents, closed the bullet holes, emptied the bait into it, half +filled it with mellow earth, and went to Mary for some corn meal to +sprinkle on the top to feed the worms. + +At four o'clock the next morning, Dannie was up feeding, milking, +scraping plows, and setting bolts. After breakfast they piled their +implements on a mudboat, which Dannie drove, while Jimmy rode one of +his team, and led the other, and opened the gates. They began on +Dannie's field, because it was closest, and for the next two weeks, +unless it were too rainy to work, they plowed, harrowed, lined off, and +planted the seed. + +The blackbirds followed along the furrows picking up grubs, the crows +cawed from high tree tops, the bluebirds twittered about hollow stumps +and fence rails, the wood thrushes sang out their souls in the thickets +across the river, and the King Cardinal of Rainbow Bottom whistled to +split his throat from the giant sycamore. Tender greens were showing +along the river and in the fields, and the purple of red-bud mingled +with the white of wild plum all along the Wabash. + +The sunny side of the hill that sloped down to Rainbow Bottom was a +mass of spring beauties, anemones, and violets; thread-like ramps rose +rank to the scent among them, and round ginger leaves were thrusting +their folded heads through the mold. The Kingfisher was cleaning his +house and fishing from his favorite stump in the river, while near him, +at the fall of every luckless worm that missed its hold on a +blossom-whitened thorn tree, came the splash of the great Black Bass. +Every morning the Bass took a trip around Horseshoe Bend food hunting, +and the small fry raced for life before his big, shear-like jaws. +During the heat of noon he lay in the deep pool below the stump, and +rested; but when evening came he set out in search of supper, and +frequently he felt so good that he leaped clear of the water, and fell +back with a splash that threw shining spray about him, or lashed out +with his tail and sent widening circles of waves rolling from his +lurking place. Then the Kingfisher rattled with all his might, and flew +for the tunnel in the embankment. + +Some of these days the air was still, the earth warmed in the golden +sunshine, and murmured a low song of sleepy content. Some days the wind +raised, whirling dead leaves before it, and covering the earth with +drifts of plum, cherry, and apple bloom, like late falling snow. Then +great black clouds came sweeping across the sky, and massed above +Rainbow Bottom. The lightning flashed as if the heavens were being +cracked open, and the rolling thunder sent terror to the hearts of man +and beast. When the birds flew for shelter, Dannie and Jimmy unhitched +their horses, and raced for the stables to escape the storm, and to be +with Mary, whom electricity made nervous. + +They would sit on the little front porch, and watch the greedy earth +drink the downpour. They could almost see the grass and flowers grow. +When the clouds scattered, the thunder grew fainter; and the sun shone +again between light sprinkles of rain. Then a great, glittering rainbow +set its arch in the sky, and it planted one of its feet in Horseshoe +Bend, and the other so far away they could not even guess where. + +If it rained lightly, in a little while Dannie and Jimmy could go back +to their work afield. If the downpour was heavy, and made plowing +impossible, they pulled weeds, and hoed in the garden. Dannie +discoursed on the wholesome freshness of the earth, and Jimmy ever +waited a chance to twist his words, and ring in a laugh on him. He +usually found it. Sometimes, after a rain, they took their bait cans, +and rods, and went down to the river to fish. + +If one could not go, the other religiously refrained from casting bait +into the pool where the Black Bass lay. Once, when they were fishing +together, the Bass rose to a white moth, skittered over the surface by +Dannie late in the evening, and twice Jimmy had strikes which he +averred had taken the arm almost off him, but neither really had the +Bass on his hook. They kept to their own land, and fished when they +pleased, for game laws and wardens were unknown to them. + +Truth to tell, neither of them really hoped to get the Bass before +fall. The water was too high in the spring. Minnows were plentiful, and +as Jimmy said, "It seemed as if the domn plum tree just rained +caterpillars." So they bided their time, and the signs prohibiting +trespass on all sides of their land were many and emphatic, and Mary +had instructions to ring the dinner bell if she caught sight of any +strangers. + +The days grew longer, and the sun was insistent. Untold miles they +trudged back and forth across their land, guiding their horses, jerked +about with plows, their feet weighted with the damp, clinging earth, +and their clothing pasted to their wet bodies. Jimmy was growing +restless. Never in all his life had he worked so faithfully as that +spring, and never had his visits to Casey's so told on him. No matter +where they started, or how hard they worked, Dannie was across the +middle of the field, and helping Jimmy before the finish. It was always +Dannie who plowed on, while Jimmy rode to town for the missing bolt or +buckle, and he generally rolled from his horse into a fence corner, and +slept the remainder of the day on his return. + +The work and heat were beginning to tire him, and his trips to Casey's +had been much less frequent than he desired. He grew to feel that +between them Dannie and Mary were driving him, and a desire to balk at +slight cause, gathered in his breast. He deliberately tied his team in +a fence corner, lay down, and fell asleep. The clanging of the supper +bell aroused him. He opened his eyes, and as he rose, found that Dannie +had been to the barn, and brought a horse blanket to cover him. Well as +he knew anything, Jimmy knew that he had no business sleeping in fence +corners so early in the season. With candor he would have admitted to +himself that a part of his brittle temper came from aching bones and +rheumatic twinges. Some way, the sight of Dannie swinging across the +field, looking as fresh as in the early morning, and the fact that he +had carried a blanket to cover him, and the further fact that he was +wild for drink, and could think of no excuse on earth for going to +town, brought him to a fighting crisis. + +Dannie turned his horses at Jimmy's feet. + +"Come on, Jimmy, supper bell has rung," he cried. "We mustn't keep Mary +waiting. She wants us to help her plant the sweet potatoes to-nicht." + +Jimmy rose, and his joints almost creaked. The pain angered him. He +leaned forward and glared at Dannie. + +"Is there one minute of the day whin you ain't thinkin' about my wife?" +he demanded, oh, so slowly, and so ugly! + +Dannie met his hateful gaze squarely. "Na a minute," he answered, +"excepting when I am thinking about ye." + +"The Hell you say!" exploded the astonished Jimmy. + +Dannie stepped out of the furrow, and came closer. "See here, Jimmy +Malone," he said. "Ye ain't forgot the nicht when I told ye I loved +Mary, with all my heart, and that I'd never love another woman. I sent +ye to tell her fra me, and to ask if I might come to her. And ye +brought me her answer. It's na your fault that she preferred ye. +Everybody did. But it IS your fault that I've stayed on here. I tried +to go, and ye wouldna let me. So for fifteen years, ye have lain with +the woman I love, and I have lain alone in a few rods of ye. If that +ain't Man-Hell, try some other on me, and see if it will touch me! I +sent ye to tell her that I loved her; have I ever sent ye to tell her +that I've quit? I should think you'd know, by this time, that I'm na +quitter. Love her! Why, I love her till I can see her standin' plain +before me, when I know she's a mile away. Love her! Why, I can smell +her any place I am, sweeter than any flower I ever held to my face. +Love her! Till the day I dee I'll love her. But it ain't any fault of +yours, and if ye've come to the place where I worry ye, that's the +place where I go, as I wanted to on the same day ye brought Mary to +Rainbow Bottom." + +Jimmy's gray jaws fell open. Jimmy's sullen eyes cleared. He caught +Dannie by the arm. + +"For the love of Hivin, what did I say, Dannie?" he panted. "I must +have been half asleep. Go! You go! You leave Rainbow Bottom! Thin, by +God, I go too! I won't stay here without you, not a day. If I had to +take my choice between you, I'd give up Mary before I'd give up the +best frind I iver had. Go! I guess not, unless I go with you! She can +go to----" + +"Jimmy! Jimmy!" cautioned Dannie. + +"I mane ivery domn word of it," said Jimmy. "I think more of you, than +I iver did of any woman." + +Dannie drew a deep breath. "Then why in the name of God did ye SAY that +thing to me? I have na betrayed your trust in me, not ever, Jimmy, and +ye know it. What's the matter with ye?" + +Jimmy heaved a deep sigh, and rubbed his hands across his hot, angry +face. "Oh, I'm just so domn sore!" he said. "Some days I get about +wild. Things haven't come out like I thought they would." + +"Jimmy, if ye are in trouble, why do ye na tell me? Canna I help ye? +Have'nt I always helped ye if I could?" + +"Yes, you have," said Jimmy. "Always, been a thousand times too good to +me. But you can't help here. I'm up agin it alone, but put this in your +pipe, and smoke it good and brown, if you go, I go. I don't stay here +without you." + +"Then it's up to ye na to make it impossible for me to stay," said +Dannie. "After this, I'll try to be carefu'. I've had no guard on my +lips. I've said whatever came into my heid." + +The supper bell clanged sharply a second time. + +"That manes more Hivin on the Wabash," said Jimmy. "Wish I had a bracer +before I face it." + +"How long has it been, Jimmy?" asked Dannie. + +"Etarnity!" replied Jimmy briefly. + +Dannie stood thinking, and then light broke. Jimmy was always short of +money in summer. When trapping was over, and before any crops were +ready, he was usually out of funds. Dannie hesitated, and then he said, +"Would a small loan be what ye need, Jimmy?" + +Jimmy's eyes gleamed. "It would put new life into me," he cried. +"Forgive me, Dannie. I am almost crazy." + +Dannie handed over a coin, and after supper Jimmy went to town. Then +Dannie saw his mistake. He had purchased peace for himself, but what +about Mary? + + + +Chapter VI + +THE HEART OF MARY MALONE + + "This is the job that was done with the reaper, + If we hustle we can do it ourselves, + Thus securing to us a little cheaper, + The bread and pie upon our pantry shelves. + + Eat this wheat, by and by, + On this beautiful Wabash shore, + Drink this rye, by and by, + Eat and drink on this beautiful shore." + + +So sang Jimmy as he drove through the wheat, oats and rye accompanied +by the clacking machinery. Dannie stopped stacking sheaves to mop his +warm, perspiring face and to listen. Jimmy always with an eye to the +effect he was producing immediately broke into wilder parody: + + "Drive this mower, a little slower, + On this beautiful Wabash shore, + Cuttin' wheat to buy our meat, + Cuttin' oats, to buy our coats, + Also pants, if we get the chance. + + By and by, we'll cut the rye, + But I bet my hat I drink that, I drink that. + Drive this mower a little slower, + In this wheat, in this wheat, by and by." + +The larks scolded, fluttering over head, for at times the reaper +overtook their belated broods. The bobolinks danced and chattered on +stumps and fences, in an agony of suspense, when their nests were +approached, and cried pitifully if they were destroyed. The chewinks +flashed from the ground to the fences and trees, and back, crying +"Che-wink?" "Che-wee!" to each other, in such excitement that they +appeared to be in danger of flirting off their long tails. The quail +ran about the shorn fields, and excitedly called from fence riders to +draw their flocks into the security of Rainbow Bottom. + +Frightened hares bounded through the wheat, and if the cruel blade +sheared into their nests, Dannie gathered the wounded and helpless of +the scattered broods in his hat, and carried them to Mary. + +Then came threshing, which was a busy time, but after that, through the +long hot days of late July and August, there was little to do afield, +and fishing was impossible. Dannie grubbed fence corners, mended +fences, chopped and corded wood for winter, and in spare time read his +books. For the most part Jimmy kept close to Dannie. Jimmy's temper +never had been so variable. Dannie was greatly troubled, for despite +Jimmy's protests of devotion, he flared at a word, and sometimes at no +word at all. The only thing in which he really seemed interested was +the coon skin he was dressing to send to Boston. Over that he worked by +the hour, sometimes with earnest face, and sometimes he raised his +head, and let out a whoop that almost frightened Mary. At such times he +was sure to go on and give her some new detail of the hunt for the +fifty coons, that he had forgotten to tell her before. + +He had been to the hotel, and learned the Thread Man's name and +address, and found that he did not come regularly, and no one knew when +to expect him; so when he had combed and brushed the fur to its finest +point, and worked the skin until it was velvet soft, and bleached it +until it was muslin white, he made it into a neat package and sent it +with his compliments to the Boston man. After he had waited for a week, +he began going to town every day to the post office for the letter he +expected, and coming home much worse for a visit to Casey's. Since +plowing time he had asked Dannie for money as he wanted it, telling him +to keep an account, and he would pay him in the fall. He seemed to +forget or not to know how fast his bills grew. + +Then came a week in August when the heat invaded even the cool retreat +along the river. Out on the highway passing wheels rolled back the dust +like water, and raised it in clouds after them. The rag weeds hung +wilted heads along the road. The goldenrod and purple ironwort were +dust-colored and dust-choked. The trees were thirsty, and their leaves +shriveling. The river bed was bare its width in places, and while the +Kingfisher made merry with his family, and rattled, feasting from Abram +Johnson's to the Gar-hole, the Black Bass sought its deep pool, and lay +still. It was a rare thing to hear it splash in those days. + +The prickly heat burned until the souls of men were tried. Mary slipped +listlessly about or lay much of the time on a couch beside a window, +where a breath of air stirred. Despite the good beginning he had made +in the spring, Jimmy slumped with the heat and exposures he had risked, +and was hard to live with. + +Dannie was not having a good time himself. Since Jimmy's wedding, life +had been all grind to Dannie, but he kept his reason, accepted his lot, +and ground his grist with patience and such cheer as few men could have +summoned to the aid of so poor a cause. Had there been any one to +notice it, Dannie was tired and heat-ridden also, but as always, Dannie +sank self, and labored uncomplainingly with Jimmy's problems. On a +burning August morning Dannie went to breakfast, and found Mary white +and nervous, little prepared to eat, and no sign of Jimmy. + +"Jimmy sleeping?" he asked. + +"I don't know where Jimmy is," Mary answered coldly. + +"Since when?" asked Dannie, gulping coffee, and taking hasty bites, for +he had begun his breakfast supposing that Jimmy would come presently. + +"He left as soon as you went home last night," she said, "and he has +not come back yet." + +Dannie did not know what to say. Loyal to the bone to Jimmy, loving +each hair on the head of Mary Malone, and she worn and neglected; the +problem was heartbreaking in any solution he attempted, and he felt +none too well himself. He arose hastily, muttering something about +getting the work done. He brought in wood and water, and asked if there +was anything more he could do. + +"Sure!" said Mary, in a calm, even voice. "Go to the barn, and shovel +manure for Jimmy Malone, and do all the work he shirks, before you do +anything for yoursilf." + +Dannie always had admitted that he did not understand women, but he +understood a plain danger signal, and he almost ran from the cabin. In +the fear that Mary might think he had heeded her hasty words, he went +to his own barn first, just to show her that he did not do Jimmy's +work. The flies and mosquitoes were so bad he kept his horses stabled +through the day, and turned them to pasture at night. So their stalls +were to be cleaned, and he set to work. When he had finished his own +barn, as he had nothing else to do, he went on to Jimmy's. He had +finished the stalls, and was sweeping when he heard a sound at the back +door, and turning saw Jimmy clinging to the casing, unable to stand +longer. Dannie sprang to him, and helped him inside. Jimmy sank to the +floor. Dannie caught up several empty grain sacks, folded them, and +pushed them under Jimmy's head for a pillow. + +"Dannish, didsh shay y'r nash'nal flowerish wash shisle?" asked Jimmy. + +"Yes," said Dannie, lifting the heavy auburn head to smooth the folds +from the sacks. + +"Whysh like me?" + +"I dinna," answered Dannie wearily. + +"Awful jagsh on," murmured Jimmy, sighed heavily, and was off. His +clothing was torn and dust-covered, his face was purple and bloated, +and his hair was dusty and disordered. He was a repulsive sight. As +Dannie straightened Jimmy's limbs he thought he heard a step. He lifted +his head and leaned forward to listen. + +"Dannie Micnoun?" called the same even, cold voice he had heard at +breakfast. "Have you left me, too?" + +Dannie sprang for a manger. He caught a great armload of hay, and threw +it over Jimmy. He gave one hurried toss to scatter it, for Mary was in +the barn. As he turned to interpose his body between her and the +manger, which partially screened Jimmy, his heart sickened. He was too +late. She had seen. Frightened to the soul, he stared at her. She came +a step closer, and with her foot gave a hand of Jimmy's that lay +exposed a contemptuous shove. + +"You didn't get him complately covered," she said. "How long have you +had him here?" + +Dannie was frightened into speech. "Na a minute, Mary; he juist came in +when I heard ye. I was trying to spare ye." + +"Him, you mane," she said, in that same strange voice. "I suppose you +give him money, and he has a bottle, and he's been here all night." + +"Mary," said Dannie, "that's na true. I have furnished him money. He'd +mortgage the farm, or do something worse if I didna; but I dinna WHERE +he has been all nicht, and in trying to cover him, my only thought was +to save ye pain." + +"And whin you let him spind money you know you'll never get back, and +loaf while you do his work, and when you lie mountain high, times +without number, who is it for?" + +Then fifteen years' restraint slid from Dannie like a cloak, and in the +torture of his soul his slow tongue outran all its previous history. + +"Ye!" he shouted. "It's fra Jimmy, too, but ye first. Always ye first!" +Mary began to tremble. Her white cheeks burned red. Her figure +straightened, and her hands clenched. + +"On the cross! Will you swear it?" she cried. + +"On the sacred body of Jesus Himself, if I could face Him," answered +Dannie. "Anything! Everything is fra ye first, Mary!" + +"Then why?" she panted between gasps for breath. "Tell me why? If you +have cared for me enough to stay here all these years and see that I +had the bist tratemint you could get for me, why didn't you care for me +enough more to save me this? Oh, Dannie, tell me why?" + +And then she shook with strangled sobs until she scarce could stand +alone. Dannie Macnoun cleared the space between them and took her in +his arms. Her trembling hands clung to him, her head dropped on his +breast, and the perfume of her hair in his nostrils drove him mad. Then +the tense bulk of her body struck against him, and horror filled his +soul. One second he held her, the next, Jimmy smothering under the hay, +threw up an arm, and called like a petulant child, "Dannie! Make shun +quit shinish my fashe!" + +And Dannie awoke to the realization that Mary was another man's, and +that man, one who trusted him completely. The problem was so much too +big for poor Dannie that reason kindly slipped a cog. He broke from the +grasp of the woman, fled through the back door, and took to the woods. + +He ran as if fiends were after him, and he ran and ran. And when he +could run no longer, he walked, but he went on. Just on and on. He +crossed forests and fields, orchards and highways, streams and rivers, +deep woods and swamps, and on, and on he went. He felt nothing, and saw +nothing, and thought nothing, save to go on, always on. In the dark he +stumbled on and through the day he staggered on, and he stopped for +nothing, save at times to lift water to his parched lips. + +The bushes took his hat, the thorns ripped his shirt, the water soaked +his shoes and they spread and his feet came through and the stones cut +them until they bled. Leaves and twigs stuck in his hair, and his eyes +grew bloodshot, his lips and tongue swollen, and when he could go no +further on his feet, he crawled on his knees, until at last he pitched +forward on his face and lay still. The tumult was over and Mother +Nature set to work to see about repairing damages. + +Dannie was so badly damaged, soul, heart, and body, that she never +would have been equal to the task, but another woman happened that way +and she helped. Dannie was carried to a house and a doctor dressed his +hurts. When the physician got down to first principles, and found a +big, white-bodied, fine-faced Scotchman in the heart of the wreck, he +was amazed. A wild man, but not a whiskey bloat. A crazy man, but not a +maniac. He stood long beside Dannie as he lay unconscious. + +"I'll take oath that man has wronged no one," he said. "What in the +name of God has some woman been doing to him?" + +He took money from Dannie's wallet and bought clothing to replace the +rags he had burned. He filled Dannie with nourishment, and told the +woman who found him that when he awoke, if he did not remember, to tell +him that his name was Dannie Macnoun, and that he lived in Rainbow +Bottom, Adams County. Because just at that time Dannie was halfway +across the state. + +A day later he awoke, in a strange room and among strange faces. He +took up life exactly where he left off. And in his ears, as he +remembered his flight, rang the awful cry uttered by Mary Malone, and +not until then did there come to Dannie the realization that she had +been driven to seek him for help, because her woman's hour was upon +her. Cold fear froze Dannie's soul. + +He went back by railway and walked the train most of the way. He +dropped from the cars at the water tank and struck across country, and +again he ran. But this time it was no headlong flight. Straight as a +homing bird went Dannie with all speed, toward the foot of the Rainbow +and Mary Malone. + +The Kingfisher sped rattling down the river when Dannie came crashing +along the bank. + +"Oh, God, let her be alive!" prayed Dannie as he leaned panting against +a tree for an instant, because he was very close now and sickeningly +afraid. Then he ran on. In a minute it would be over. At the next turn +he could see the cabins. As he dashed along, Jimmy Malone rose from a +log and faced him. A white Jimmy, with black-ringed eyes and shaking +hands. + +"Where the Hell have you been?" Jimmy demanded. + +"Is she dead?" cried Dannie. + +"The doctor is talking scare," said Jimmy. "But I don't scare so easy. +She's never been sick in her life, and she has lived through it twice +before, why should she die now? Of course the kid is dead again," he +added angrily. + +Dannie shut his eyes and stood still. He had helped plant star-flowers +on two tiny cross-marked mounds at Five Mile Hill. Now, there were +three. Jimmy had worn out her love for him, that was plain. "Why should +she die now?" To Dannie it seemed that question should have been, "Why +should she live?" + +Jimmy eyed him belligerently. "Why in the name of sinse did you cut out +whin I was off me pins?" he growled. "Of course I don't blame you for +cutting that kind of a party, me for the woods, all right, but what I +can't see is why you couldn't have gone for the doctor and waited until +I'd slept it off before you wint." + +"I dinna know she was sick," answered Dannie. "I deserve anything ony +ane can say to me, and it's all my fault if she dees, but this ane +thing ye got to say ye know richt noo, Jimmy. Ye got to say ye know +that I dinna understand Mary was sick when I went." + +"Sure! I've said that all the time," agreed Jimmy. "But what I don't +understand is, WHY you went! I guess she thinks it was her fault. I +came out here to try to study it out. The nurse-woman, domn pretty +girl, says if you don't get back before midnight, it's all up. You're +just on time, Dannie. The talk in the house is that she'll wink out if +you don't prove to her that she didn't drive you away. She is about +crazy over it. What did she do to you?" + +"Nothing!" exclaimed Dannie. "She was so deathly sick she dinna what +she was doing. I can see it noo, but I dinna understand then." + +"That's all right," said Jimmy. "She didn't! She kapes moaning over and +over 'What did I do?' You hustle in and fix it up with her. I'm getting +tired of all this racket." + +All Dannie heard was that he was to go to Mary. He went up the lane, +across the garden, and stepped in at the back door. Beside the table +stood a comely young woman, dressed in blue and white stripes. She was +doing something with eggs and milk. She glanced at Dannie, and finished +filling a glass. As she held it to the light, "Is your name Macnoun?" +she inquired. + +"Yes," said Dannie. + +"Dannie Macnoun?" she asked. + +"Yes," said Dannie. + +"Then you are the medicine needed here just now," she said, as if that +were the most natural statement in the world. "Mrs. Malone seems to +have an idea that she offended you, and drove you from home, just prior +to her illness, and as she has been very sick, she is in no condition +to bear other trouble. You understand?" + +"Do ye understand that I couldna have gone if I had known she was ill?" +asked Dannie in turn. + +"From what she has said in delirium I have been sure of that," replied +the nurse. "It seems you have been the stay of the family for years. I +have a very high opinion of you, Mr. Macnoun. Wait until I speak to +her." + +The nurse vanished, presently returned, and as Dannie passed through +the door, she closed it after him, and he stood still, trying to see in +the dim light. That great snowy stretch, that must be the bed. That +tumbled dark circle, that must be Mary's hair. That dead white thing +beneath it, that must be Mary's face. Those burning lights, flaming on +him, those must be Mary's eyes. Dannie stepped softly across the room, +and bent over the bed. He tried hard to speak naturally. + +"Mary" he said, "oh, Mary, I dinna know ye were ill! Oh, believe me, I +dinna realize ye were suffering pain." + +She smiled faintly, and her lips moved. Dannie bent lower. + +"Promise," she panted. "Promise you will stay now." + +Her hand fumbled at her breast, and then she slipped on the white cover +a little black cross. Dannie knew what she meant. He laid his hand on +the emblem precious to her, and said softly, "I swear I never will +leave ye again, Mary Malone." + +A great light swept into her face, and she smiled happily. + +"Now ye," said Dannie. He slipped the cross into her hand. "Repeat +after me," he said. "I promise I will get well, Dannie." + +"I promise I will get well, Dannie, if I can," said Mary. + +"Na," said Dannie. "That winna do. Repeat what I said, and remember it +is on the cross. Life hasna been richt for ye, Mary, but if ye will get +well, before the Lord in some way we will make it happier. Ye will get +well?" + +"I promise I will get well, Dannie," said Mary Malone, and Dannie +softly left the room. + +Outside he said to the nurse, "What can I do?" + +She told him everything of which she could think that would be of +benefit. + +"Now tell me all ye know of what happened," commanded Dannie. + +"After you left," said the nurse, "she was in labor, and she could not +waken her husband, and she grew frightened and screamed. There were men +passing out on the road. They heard her, and came to see what was the +matter." + +"Strangers?" shuddered Dannie, with dry lips. + +"No, neighbors. One man went for the nearest woman, and the other drove +to town for a doctor. They had help here almost as soon as you could. +But, of course, the shock was a very dreadful thing, and the heat of +the past few weeks has been enervating." + +"Ane thing more," questioned Dannie. "Why do her children dee?" + +"I don't know about the others," answered the nurse. "This one simply +couldn't be made to breathe. It was a strange thing. It was a fine big +baby, a boy, and it seemed perfect, but we couldn't save it. I never +worked harder. They told me she had lost two others, and we tried +everything of which we could think. It just seemed as if it had grown a +lump of flesh, with no vital spark in it." + +Dannie turned, went out of the door, and back along the lane to the +river where he had left Jimmy. "'A lump of flesh with na vital spark in +it,'" he kept repeating. "I dinna but that is the secret. She is almost +numb with misery. All these days when she's been without hope, and +these awful nichts, when she's watched and feared alone, she has no +wished to perpetuate him in children who might be like him, and so at +their coming the 'vital spark' is na in them. Oh, Jimmy, Jimmy, have ye +Mary's happiness and those three little graves to answer for?" + +He found Jimmy asleep where he had left him. Dannie shook him awake. "I +want to talk with ye," he said. + +Jimmy sat up, and looked into Dannie's face. He had a complaint on his +lips but it died there. He tried to apologize. "I am almost dead for +sleep," he said. "There has been no rest for anyone here. What do you +think?" + +"I think she will live," said Dannie dryly. "In spite of your neglect, +and my cowardice, I think she will live to suffer more frae us." + +Jimmy's mouth opened, but for once no sound issued. The drops of +perspiration raised on his forehead. + +Dannie sat down, and staring at him Jimmy saw that there were patches +of white hair at his temples that had been brown a week before; his +colorless face was sunken almost to the bone, and there was a peculiar +twist about his mouth. Jimmy's heart weighed heavily, his tongue stood +still, and he was afraid to the marrow in his bones. + +"I think she will live," repeated Dannie. "And about the suffering +more, we will face that like men, and see what can be done about it. +This makes three little graves on the hill, Jimmy, what do they mean to +ye?" + +"Domn bad luck," said Jimmy promptly. + +"Nothing more?" asked Dannie. "Na responsibility at all. Ye are the +father of those children. Have ye never been to the doctor, and asked +why ye lost them?" + +"No, I haven't," said Jimmy. + +"That is ane thing we will do now," said Dannie, "and then we will do +more, much more." + +"What are you driving at?" asked Jimmy. + +"The secret of Mary's heart," said Dannie. + +The cold sweat ran from the pores of Jimmy's body. He licked his dry +lips, and pulled his hat over his eyes, that he might watch Dannie from +under the brim. + +"We are twa big, strong men," said Dannie. "For fifteen years we have +lived here wi' Mary. The night ye married her, the licht of happiness +went out for me. But I shut my mouth, and shouldered my burden, and +went on with my best foot first; because if she had na refused me, I +should have married her, and then ye would have been the one to suffer. +If she had chosen me, I should have married her, juist as ye did. Oh, +I've never forgotten that! So I have na been a happy mon, Jimmy. We +winna go into that any further, we've been over it once. It seems to be +a form of torture especially designed fra me, though at times I must +confess, it seems rough, and I canna see why, but we'll cut that off +with this: life has been Hell's hottest sweat-box fra me these fifteen +years." + +Jimmy groaned aloud. Dannie's keen gray eyes seemed boring into the +soul of the man before him, as he went on. + +"Now how about ye? Ye got the girl ye wanted. Ye own a guid farm that +would make ye a living, and save ye money every year. Ye have done +juist what ye pleased, and as far as I could, I have helped ye. I've +had my eye on ye pretty close, Jimmy, and if YE are a happy mon, I +dinna but I'm content as I am. What's your trouble? Did ye find ye +dinna love Mary after ye won her? Did ye murder your mither or blacken +your soul with some deadly sin? Mon! If I had in my life what ye every +day neglect and torture, Heaven would come doon, and locate at the foot +of the Rainbow fra me. But, ye are no happy, Jimmy. Let's get at the +root of the matter. While ye are unhappy, Mary will be also. We are +responsible to God for her, and between us, she is empty armed, near to +death, and almost dumb with misery. I have juist sworn to her on the +cross she loves that if she will make ane more effort, and get well, we +will make her happy. Now, how are we going to do it?" + +Another great groan burst from Jimmy, and he shivered as if with a +chill. + +"Let us look ourselves in the face," Dannie went on, "and see what we +lack. What can we do fra her? What will bring a song to her lips, licht +to her beautiful eyes, love to her heart, and a living child to her +arms? Wake up, mon! By God, if ye dinna set to work with me and solve +this problem, I'll shake a solution out of ye! What I must suffer is my +own, but what's the matter with ye, and why, when she loved and married +ye, are ye breakin' Mary's heart? Answer me, mon!" + +Dannie reached over and snatched the hat from Jimmy's forehead, and +stared at an inert heap. Jimmy lay senseless, and he looked like death. +Dannie rushed down to the water with the hat, and splashed drops into +Jimmy's face until he gasped for breath. When he recovered a little, he +shrank from Dannie, and began to sob, as if he were a sick ten-year-old +child. + +"I knew you'd go back on me, Dannie," he wavered. "I've lost the only +frind I've got, and I wish I was dead." + +"I havena gone back on ye," persisted Dannie, bathing Jimmy's face. +"Life means nothing to me, save as I can use it fra Mary, and fra ye. +Be quiet, and sit up here, and help me work this thing out. Why are ye +a discontented mon, always wishing fra any place save home? Why do ye +spend all ye earn foolishly, so that ye are always hard up, when ye +might have affluence? Why does Mary lose her children, and why does she +noo wish she had na married ye?" + +"Who said she wished she hadn't married me?" cried Jimmy. + +"Do ye mean to say ye think she doesn't?" blazed Dannie. + +"I ain't said anything!" exclaimed Jimmy. + +"Na, and I seem to have damn poor luck gettin' ye TO say anything. I +dinna ask fra tears, nor faintin' like a woman. Be a mon, and let me +into the secret of this muddle. There is a secret, and ye know it. What +is it? Why are ye breaking the heart o' Mary Malone? Answer me, or +'fore God I'll wring the answer fra your body!" + +And Jimmy keeled over again. This time he was gone so far that Dannie +was frightened into a panic, and called the doctor coming up the lane +to Jimmy before he had time to see Mary. The doctor soon brought Jimmy +around, prescribed quiet and sleep; talked about heart trouble +developing, and symptoms of tremens, and Dannie poured on water, and +gritted his teeth. And it ended by Jimmy being helped to Dannie's +cabin, undressed, and put into bed, and then Dannie went over to see +what he could do for the nurse. She looked at him searchingly. + +"Mr. Macnoun, when were you last asleep?" she asked. + +"I forget," answered Dannie. + +"When did you last have a good hot meal?" + +"I dinna know," replied Dannie. + +"Drink that," said the nurse, handing him the bowl of broth she +carried, and going back to the stove for another. "When I have finished +making Mrs. Malone comfortable, I'm going to get you something to eat, +and you are going to eat it. Then you are going to lie down on that cot +where I can call you if I need you, and sleep six hours, and then +you're going to wake up and watch by this door while I sleep my six. +Even nurses must have some rest, you know." + +"Ye first," said Dannie. "I'll be all richt when I get food. Since ye +mention it, I believe I am almost mad with hunger." + +The nurse handed him another bowl of broth. "Just drink that, and drink +slowly," she said, as she left the room. + +Dannie could hear her speaking softly to Mary, and then all was quiet, +and the girl came out and closed the door. She deftly prepared food for +Dannie, and he ate all she would allow him, and begged for more; but +she firmly told him her hands were full now, and she had no one to +depend on but him to watch after the turn of the night. So Dannie lay +down on the cot. He had barely touched it when he thought of Jimmy, so +he got up quietly and started home. He had almost reached his back door +when it opened, and Jimmy came out. Dannie paused, amazed at Jimmy's +wild face and staring eyes. + +"Don't you begin your cursed gibberish again," cried Jimmy, at sight of +him. "I'm burning in all the tortures of fire now, and I'll have a +drink if I smash down Casey's and steal it." + +Dannie jumped for him, and Jimmy evaded him and fled. Dannie started +after. He had reached the barn before he began to think. "I depend on +you," the nurse had said. "Jimmy, wait!" he called. "Jimmy, have ye any +money?" Jimmy was running along the path toward town. Dannie stopped. +He stood staring after Jimmy for a second, and then he deliberately +turned, went back, and lay down on the cot, where the nurse expected to +find him when she wanted him to watch by the door of Mary Malone. + + + +Chapter VII + +THE APPLE OF DISCORD BECOMES A JOINTED ROD + +"What do you think about fishing, Dannie?" asked Jimmy Malone. + +"There was a licht frost last nicht," said Dannie. "It begins to look +that way. I should think a week more, especially if there should come a +guid rain." + +Jimmy looked disappointed. His last trip to town had ended in a sodden +week in the barn, and at Dannie's cabin. For the first time he had +carried whiskey home with him. He had insisted on Dannie drinking with +him, and wanted to fight when he would not. He addressed the bottle, +and Dannie, as the Sovereign Alchemist by turns, and "transmuted the +leaden metal of life into pure gold" of a glorious drunk, until his +craving was satisfied. Then he came back to work and reason one +morning, and by the time Mary was about enough to notice him, he was +Jimmy at his level best, and doing more than he had in years to try to +interest and please her. + +Mary had fully recovered, and appeared as strong as she ever had been, +but there was a noticeable change in her. She talked and laughed with a +gayety that seemed forced, and in the midst of it her tongue turned +bitter, and Jimmy and Dannie fled before it. + +The gray hairs multiplied on Dannie's head with rapidity. He had gone +to the doctor, and to Mary's sister, and learned nothing more than the +nurse could tell him. Dannie was willing to undertake anything in the +world for Mary, but just how to furnish the "vital spark," to an unborn +babe, was too big a problem for him. And Jimmy Malone was growing to be +another. Heretofore, Dannie had borne the brunt of the work, and all of +the worry. He had let Jimmy feel that his was the guiding hand. Jimmy's +plans were followed whenever it was possible, and when it was not, +Dannie started Jimmy's way, and gradually worked around to his own. +But, there never had been a time between them, when things really came +to a crisis, and Dannie took the lead, and said matters must go a +certain way, that Jimmy had not acceded. In reality, Dannie always had +been master. + +Now he was not. Where he lost control he did not know. He had tried +several times to return to the subject of how to bring back happiness +to Mary, and Jimmy immediately developed symptoms of another attack of +heart disease, a tendency to start for town, or openly defied him by +walking away. Yet, Jimmy stuck to him closer than he ever had, and +absolutely refused to go anywhere, or to do the smallest piece of work +alone. Sometimes he grew sullen and morose when he was not drinking, +and that was very unlike the gay Jimmy. Sometimes he grew wildly +hilarious, as if he were bound to make such a racket that he could hear +no sound save his own voice. So long as he stayed at home, helped with +the work, and made an effort to please Mary, Dannie hoped for the best, +but his hopes never grew so bright that they shut out an awful fear +that was beginning to loom in the future. But he tried in every way to +encourage Jimmy, and help him in the struggle he did not understand, so +when he saw that Jimmy was disappointed about the fishing, he suggested +that he should go alone. + +"I guess not!" said Jimmy. "I'd rather go to confission than to go +alone. What's the fun of fishin' alone? All the fun there is to fishin' +is to watch the other fellow's eyes when you pull in a big one, and try +to hide yours from him when he gets it. I guess not! What have we got +to do?" + +"Finish cutting the corn, and get in the pumpkins before there comes +frost enough to hurt them." + +"Well, come along!" said Jimmy. "Let's get it over. I'm going to begin +fishing for that Bass the morning after the first black frost, if I do +go alone. I mean it!" + +"But ye said--" began Dannie. + +"Hagginy!" cried Jimmy. "What a lot of time you've wasted if you've +been kaping account of all the things I've said. Haven't you learned by +this time that I lie twice to the truth once?" + +Dannie laughed. "Dinna say such things, Jimmy. I hate to hear ye. Of +course, I know about the fifty coons of the Canoper, and things like +that; honest, I dinna believe ye can help it. But na man need lie about +a serious matter, and when he knows he is deceiving another who trusts +him." Jimmy became so white that he felt the color receding, and turned +to hide his face. "Of course, about those fifty coons noo, what was the +harm in that? Nobody believed it. That wasna deceiving any ane." + +"Yes, but it was," answered Jimmy. "The Boston man belaved it, and I +guiss he hasn't forgiven me, if he did take my hand, and drink with me. +You know I haven't had a word from him about that coon skin. I worked +awful hard on that skin. Some way, I tried to make it say to him again +that I was sorry for that night's work. Sometimes I am afraid I killed +the fellow." + +"O-ho!" scoffed Dannie. "Men ain't so easy killed. I been thinkin' +about it, too, and I'll tell ye what I think. I think he goes on long +trips, and only gets home every four or five months. The package would +have to wait. His folks wouldna try to send it after him. He was a +monly fellow, all richt, and ye will hear fra him yet." + +"I'd like to," said Jimmy, absently, beating across his palm a spray of +goldenrod he had broken. "Just a line to tell me that he don't bear +malice." + +"Ye will get it," said Dannie. "Have a little patience. But that's your +greatest fault, Jimmy. Ye never did have ony patience." + +"For God's sake, don't begin on me faults again," snapped Jimmy. "I +reckon I know me faults about as well as the nixt fellow. I'm so domn +full of faults that I've thought a lot lately about fillin' up, and +takin' a sleep on the railroad." + +A new fear wrung Dannie's soul. "Ye never would, Jimmy," he implored. + +"Sure not!" cried Jimmy. "I'm no good Catholic livin', but if it come +to dyin', bedad I niver could face it without first confissin' to the +praste, and that would give the game away. Let's cut out dyin', and cut +corn!" + +"That's richt," agreed Dannie. "And let's work like men, and then fish +fra a week or so, before ice and trapping time comes again. I'll wager +I can beat ye the first row." + +"Bate!" scoffed Jimmy. "Bate! With them club-footed fingers of yours? +You couldn't bate an egg. Just watch me! If you are enough of a watch +to keep your hands runnin' at the same time." + +Jimmy worked feverishly for an hour, and then he straightened and +looked about him. On the left lay the river, its shores bordered with +trees and bushes. Behind them was deep wood. Before them lay their open +fields, sloping down to the bottom, the cabins on one side, and the +kingfisher embankment on the other. There was a smoky haze in the air. +As always the blackbirds clamored along the river. Some crows followed +the workers at a distance, hunting for grains of corn, and over in the +woods, a chewink scratched and rustled among the deep leaves as it +searched for grubs. From time to time a flock of quail arose before +them with a whirr and scattered down the fields, reassembling later at +the call of their leader, from a rider of the snake fence, which +inclosed the field. + +"Bob, Bob White," whistled Dannie. + +"Bob, Bob White," answered the quail. + +"I got my eye on that fellow," said Jimmy. "When he gets a little +larger, I'm going after him." + +"Seems an awful pity to kill him," said Dannie. "People rave over the +lark, but I vow I'd miss the quail most if they were both gone. They +are getting scarce." + +"Well, I didn't say I was going to kill the whole flock," said Jimmy. +"I was just going to kill a few for Mary, and if I don't, somebody else +will." + +"Mary dinna need onything better than ane of her own fried chickens," +said Dannie. "And its no true about hunters. We've the river on ane +side, and the bluff on the other. If we keep up our fishing signs, and +add hunting to them, and juist shut the other fellows out, the birds +will come here like everything wild gathers in National Park, out West. +Ye bet things know where they are taken care of, well enough." + +Jimmy snipped a spray of purple ironwort with his corn-cutter, and +stuck it through his suspender buckle. "I think that would be more fun +than killin' them. If you're a dacint shot, and your gun is clane" +(Jimmy remembered the crow that had escaped with the eggs at +soap-making), "you pretty well know you're goin' to bring down anything +you aim at. But it would be a dandy joke to shell a little corn as we +husk it, and toll all the quail into Rainbow Bottom, and then kape the +other fellows out. Bedad! Let's do it." + +Jimmy addressed the quail: + + "Quailie, quailie on the fince, + We think your singin's just imminse. + Stay right here, and live with us, + And the fellow that shoots you will strike a fuss." + + +"We can protect them all richt enough," laughed Dannie. "And when the +snow comes we can feed Cardinals like cheekens. Wish when we threshed, +we'd saved a few sheaves of wheat. They do that in Germany, ye know. +The last sheaf of the harvest they put up on a long pole at Christmas, +as a thank-offering to the birds fra their care of the crops. My father +often told of it." + +"That would be great," said Jimmy. "Now look how domn slow you are! Why +didn't you mintion it at harvest? I'd like things comin' for me to take +care of them. Gee! Makes me feel important just to think about it. Next +year we'll do it, sure. They'd be a lot of company. A man could work in +this field to-day, with all the flowers around him, and the colors of +the leaves like a garden, and a lot of birds talkin' to him, and not +feel afraid of being alone." + +"Afraid?" quoted Dannie, in amazement. + +For an instant Jimmy looked startled. Then his love of proving his +point arose. "Yes, afraid!" he repeated stubbornly. "Afraid of being +away from the sound of a human voice, because whin you are, the voices +of the black divils of conscience come twistin' up from the ground in a +little wiry whisper, and moanin' among the trees, and whistlin' in the +wind, and rollin' in the thunder, and above all in the dark they +screech, and shout, and roar,'We're after you, Jimmy Malone! We've +almost got you, Jimmy Malone! You're going to burn in Hell, Jimmy +Malone!'" + +Jimmy leaned toward Dannie, and began in a low voice, but he grew so +excited as he tried to picture the thing that he ended in a scream, and +even then Dannie's horrified eyes failed to recall him. Jimmy +straightened, stared wildly behind him, and over the open, hazy field, +where flowers bloomed, and birds called, and the long rows of shocks +stood unconscious auditors of the strange scene. He lifted his hat, and +wiped the perspiration from his dripping face with the sleeve of his +shirt, and as he raised his arm, the corn-cutter flashed in the light. + +"My God, it's awful, Dannie! It's so awful, I can't begin to tell you!" + +Dannie's face was ashen. "Jimmy, dear auld fellow," he said, "how long +has this been going on?" + +"A million years," said Jimmy, shifting the corn-cutter to the hand +that held his hat, that he might moisten his fingers with saliva and +rub it across his parched lips. + +"Jimmy, dear," Dannie's hand was on Jimmy's sleeve. "Have ye been to +town in the nicht, or anything like that lately?" + +"No, Dannie, dear, I ain't," sneered Jimmy, setting his hat on the back +of his head and testing the corn-cutter with his thumb. "This ain't +Casey's, me lad. I've no more call there, at this minute, than you +have." + +"It is Casey's, juist the same," said Dannie bitterly. "Dinna ye know +the end of this sort of thing?" + +"No, bedad, I don't!" said Jimmy. "If I knew any way to ind it, you can +bet I've had enough. I'd ind it quick enough, if I knew how. But the +railroad wouldn't be the ind. That would just be the beginnin'. Keep +close to me, Dannie, and talk, for mercy sake, talk! Do you think we +could finish the corn by noon?" + +"Let's try!" said Dannie, as he squared his shoulders to adjust them to +his new load. "Then we'll get in the pumpkins this afternoon, and bury +the potatoes, and the cabbage and turnips, and then we're aboot fixed +fra winter." + +"We must take one day, and gather our nuts," suggested Jimmy, +struggling to make his voice sound natural, "and you forgot the apples. +We must bury thim too." + +"That's so," said Dannie, "and when that's over, we'll hae nothing left +to do but catch the Bass, and say farewell to the Kingfisher." + +"I've already told you that I would relave you of all responsibility +about the Bass," said Jimmy, "and when I do, you won't need trouble to +make your adieus to the Kingfisher of the Wabash. He'll be one bird +that won't be migrating this winter." + +Dannie tried to laugh. "I'd like fall as much as any season of the +year," he said, "if it wasna for winter coming next." + +"I thought you liked winter, and the trampin' in the white woods, and +trappin', and the long evenings with a book." + +"I do," said Dannie. "I must have been thinkin' of Mary. She hated last +winter so. Of course, I had to go home when ye were away, and the +nichts were so long, and so cold, and mony of them alone. I wonder if +we canna arrange fra one of her sister's girls to stay with her this +winter?" + +"What's the matter with me?" asked Jimmy. + +"Nothing, if only ye'd stay," answered Dannie. + +"All I'll be out of nights, you could put in one eye," said Jimmy. "I +went last winter, and before, because whin they clamored too loud, I +could be drivin' out the divils that way, for a while, and you always +came for me, but even that won't be stopping it now. I wouldn't stick +my head out alone after dark, not if I was dying!" + +"Jimmy, ye never felt that way before," said Dannie. "Tell me what +happened this summer to start ye." + +"I've done a domn sight of faleing that you didn't know anything +about," answered Jimmy. "I could work it off at Casey's for a while, +but this summer things sort of came to a head, and I saw meself for +fair, and before God, Dannie, I didn't like me looks." + +"Well, then, I like your looks," said Dannie. "Ye are the best company +I ever was in. Ye are the only mon I ever knew that I cared fra, and I +care fra ye so much, I havna the way to tell ye how much. You're +possessed with a damn fool idea, Jimmy, and ye got to shake it off. +Such a great-hearted, big mon as ye! I winna have it! There's the +dinner bell, and richt glad I am of it!" + +That afternoon when pumpkin gathering was over and Jimmy had invited +Mary out to separate the "punk" from the pumpkins, there was a +wagon-load of good ones above what they would need for their use. +Dannie proposed to take them to town and sell them. To his amazement +Jimmy refused to go along. + +"I told you this morning that Casey wasn't calling me at prisent," he +said, "and whin I am not called I'd best not answer. I have promised +Mary to top the onions and bury the cilery, and murder the bates." + +"Do what wi' the beets?" inquired the puzzled Dannie. + +"Kill thim! Kill thim stone dead. I'm too tinder-hearted to be burying +anything but a dead bate, Dannie. That's a thousand years old, but +laugh, like I knew you would, old Ramphirinkus! No, thank you, I don't +go to town!" + +Then Dannie was scared. "He's going to be dreadfully seek or go mad," +he said. + +So he drove to the village, sold the pumpkins, filled Mary's order for +groceries, and then went to the doctor, and told him of Jimmy's latest +developments. + +"It is the drink," said that worthy disciple of Esculapius. "It's the +drink! In time it makes a fool sodden and a bright man mad. Few men +have sufficient brains to go crazy. Jimmy has. He must stop the drink." + +On the street, Dannie encountered Father Michael. The priest stopped +him to shake hands. + +"How's Mary Malone?" he asked. + +"She is quite well noo," answered Dannie, "but she is na happy. I live +so close, and see so much, I know. I've thought of ye lately. I have +thought of coming to see ye. I'm na of your religion, but Mary is, and +what suits her is guid enough for me. I've tried to think of everything +under the sun that might help, and among other things I've thought of +ye. Jimmy was confirmed in your church, and he was more or less regular +up to his marriage." + +"Less, Mr. Macnoun, much less!" said the priest. "Since, not at all. +Why do you ask?" + +"He is sick," said Dannie. "He drinks a guid deal. He has been reckless +about sleeping on the ground, and noo, if ye will make this +confidential?"--the priest nodded--"he is talking aboot sleeping on the +railroad, and he's having delusions. There are devils after him. He is +the finest fellow ye ever knew, Father Michael. We've been friends all +our lives. Ye have had much experience with men, and it ought to count +fra something. From all ye know, and what I've told ye, could his +trouble be cured as the doctor suggests?" + +The priest did a queer thing. "You know him as no living man, Dannie," +he said. "What do you think?" + +Dannie's big hands slowly opened and closed. Then he fell to polishing +the nails of one hand on the palm of the other. At last he answered, +"If ye'd asked me that this time last year, I'd have said 'it's the +drink,' at a jump. But times this summer, this morning, for instance, +when he hadna a drop in three weeks, and dinna want ane, when he could +have come wi' me to town, and wouldna, and there were devils calling +him from the ground, and the trees, and the sky, out in the open +cornfield, it looked bad." + +The priest's eyes were boring into Dannie's sick face. "How did it +look?" he asked briefly. + +"It looked," said Dannie, and his voice dropped to a whisper, "it +looked like he might carry a damned ugly secret, that it would be +better fra him if ye, at least, knew." + +"And the nature of that secret?" + +Dannie shook his head. "Couldna give a guess at it! Known him all his +life. My only friend. Always been togither. Square a mon as God ever +made. There's na fault in him, if he'd let drink alone. Got more faith +in him than any ane I ever knew. I wouldna trust mon on God's +footstool, if I had to lose faith in Jimmy. Come to think of it, that +'secret' business is all old woman's scare. The drink is telling on +him. If only he could be cured of that awful weakness, all heaven would +come down and settle in Rainbow Bottom." + +They shook hands and parted without Dannie realizing that he had told +all he knew and learned nothing. Then he entered the post office for +the weekly mail. He called for Malone's papers also, and with them came +a slip from the express office notifying Jimmy that there was a package +for him. Dannie went to see if they would let him have it, and as Jimmy +lived in the country, and as he and Dannie were known to be partners, +he was allowed to sign the book, and carry away a long, slender, wooden +box, with a Boston tag. The Thread Man had sent Jimmy a present, and +from the appearance of the box, Dannie made up his mind that it was a +cane. + +Straightway he drove home at a scandalous rate of speed, and on the +way, he dressed Jimmy in a broadcloth suit, patent leathers, and a silk +hat. Then he took him to a gold cure, where he learned to abhor whiskey +in a week, and then to the priest, to whom he confessed that he had +lied about the number of coons in the Canoper. And so peace brooded in +Rainbow Bottom, and all of them were happy again. For with the passing +of summer, Dannie had learned that heretofore there had been happiness +of a sort, for them, and that if they could all get back to the old +footing it would be well, or at least far better than it was at +present. With Mary's tongue dripping gall, and her sweet face souring, +and Jimmy hearing devils, no wonder poor Dannie overheated his team in +a race to carry a package that promised to furnish some diversion. + +Jimmy and Mary heard the racket, and standing on the celery hill, they +saw Dannie come clattering up the lane, and as he saw them, he stood in +the wagon, and waved the package over his head. + +Jimmy straightened with a flourish, stuck the spade in the celery hill, +and descended with great deliberation. "I mintioned to Dannie this +morning," he said "that it was about time I was hearin' from the Thrid +Man." + +"Oh! Do you suppose it is something from Boston?" the eagerness in +Mary's voice made it sound almost girlish again. + +"Hunt the hatchet!" hissed Jimmy, and walked very leisurely into the +cabin. + +Dannie was visibly excited as he entered. "I think ye have heard from +the Thread Mon," he said, handing Jimmy the package. + +Jimmy took it, and examined it carefully. He never before in his life +had an express package, the contents of which he did not know. It +behooved him to get all there was out of the pride and the joy of it. + +Mary laid down the hatchet so close that it touched Jimmy's hand, to +remind him. "Now what do you suppose he has sent you?" she inquired +eagerly, her hand straying toward the packages. + +Jimmy tested the box. "It don't weigh much," he said, "but one end of +it's the heaviest." + +He set the hatchet in a tiny crack, and with one rip, stripped off the +cover. Inside lay a long, brown leather case, with small buckles, and +in one end a little leather case, flat on one side, rounding on the +other, and it, too, fastened with a buckle. Jimmy caught sight of a +paper book folded in the bottom of the box, as he lifted the case. With +trembling fingers he unfastened the buckles, the whole thing unrolled, +and disclosed a case of leather, sewn in four divisions, from top to +bottom, and from the largest of these protruded a shining object. Jimmy +caught this, and began to draw, and the shine began to lengthen. + +"Just what I thought!" exclaimed Dannie. "He's sent ye a fine cane." + +"A hint to kape out of the small of his back the nixt time he goes +promenadin' on a cow-kitcher! The divil!" exploded Jimmy. + +His quick eyes had caught a word on the cover of the little book in the +bottom of the box. + +"A cane! A cane! Look at that, will ye?" He flashed six inches of +grooved silvery handle before their faces, and three feet of shining +black steel, scarcely thicker than a lead pencil. "Cane!" he cried +scornfully. Then he picked up the box, and opening it drew out a little +machine that shone like a silver watch, and setting it against the +handle, slipped a small slide over each end, and it held firmly, and +shone bravely. + +"Oh, Jimmy, what is it?" cried Mary. + +"Me cane!" answered Jimmy. "Me new cane from Boston. Didn't you hear +Dannie sayin' what it was? This little arrangemint is my cicly-meter, +like they put on wheels, and buggies now, to tell how far you've +traveled. The way this works, I just tie this silk thrid to me door +knob and off I walks, it a reeling out behind, and whin I turn back it +takes up as I come, and whin I get home I take the yardstick and +measure me string, and be the same token, it tells me how far I've +traveled." As he talked he drew out another shining length and added it +to the first, and then another and a last, fine as a wheat straw. +"These last jints I'm adding," he explained to Mary, "are so that if I +have me cane whin I'm riding I can stritch it out and touch up me +horses with it. And betimes, if I should iver break me old cane fish +pole, I could take this down to the river, and there, the books call it +'whipping the water.' See! Cane, be Jasus! It's the Jim-dandiest little +fishing rod anybody in these parts iver set eyes on. Lord! What a +beauty!" + +He turned to Dannie and shook the shining, slender thing before his +envious eyes. + +"Who gets the Black Bass now?" he triumphed in tones of utter +conviction. + +There is no use in taking time to explain to any fisherman who has read +thus far that Dannie, the patient; Dannie, the long-suffering, felt +abused. How would you feel yourself? + +"The Thread Man might have sent twa," was his thought. "The only decent +treatment he got that nicht was frae me, and if I'd let Jimmy hit him, +he'd gone through the wall. But there never is anything fra me!" + +And that was true. There never was. + +Aloud he said, "Dinna bother to hunt the steelyards, Mary. We winna +weigh it until he brings it home." + +"Yes, and by gum, I'll bring it with this! Look, here is a picture of a +man in a boat, pullin' in a whale with a pole just like this," bragged +Jimmy. + +"Yes," said Dannie. "That's what it's made for. A boat and open water. +If ye are going to fish wi' that thing along the river we'll have to +cut doon all the trees, and that will dry up the water. That's na for +river fishing." + +Jimmy was intently studying the book. Mary tried to take the rod from +his hand. + +"Let be!" he cried, hanging on. "You'll break it!" + +"I guess steel don't break so easy," she said aggrievedly. "I just +wanted to 'heft' it." + +"Light as a feather," boasted Jimmy. "Fish all day and it won't tire a +man at all. Done--unjoint it and put it in its case, and not go +dragging up everything along the bank like a living stump-puller. This +book says this line will bear twinty pounds pressure, and sometimes +it's takin' an hour to tire out a fish, if it's a fighter. I bet you +the Black Bass is a fighter, from what we know of him." + +"Ye can watch me land him and see what ye think about it," suggested +Dannie. + +Jimmy held the book with one hand and lightly waved the rod with the +other, in a way that would have developed nerves in an Indian. He +laughed absently. + +"With me shootin' bait all over his pool with this?" he asked. "I guess +not!" + +"But you can't fish for the Bass with that, Jimmy Malone," cried Mary +hotly. "You agreed to fish fair for the Bass, and it wouldn't be fair +for you to use that, whin Dannie only has his old cane pole. Dannie, +get you a steel pole, too," she begged. + +"If Jimmy is going to fish with that, there will be all the more glory +in taking the Bass from him with the pole I have," answered Dannie. + +"You keep out," cried Jimmy angrily to Mary. "It was a fair bargain. He +made it himself. Each man was to fish surface or deep, and with his own +pole and bait. I guess this IS my pole, ain't it?" + +"Yes," said Mary. "But it wasn't yours whin you made that agreemint. +You very well know Dannie expected you to fish with the same kind of +pole and bait that he did; didn't you, Dannie?" + +"Yes," said Dannie, "I did. Because I never dreamed of him havin' any +other. But since he has it, I think he's in his rights if he fishes +with it. I dinna care. In the first place he will only scare the Bass +away from him with the racket that reel will make, and in the second, +if he tries to land it with that thing, he will smash it, and lose the +fish. There's a longhandled net to land things with that goes with +those rods. He'd better sent ye one. Now you'll have to jump into the +river and land a fish by hand if ye hook it." + +"That's true!" cried Mary. "Here's one in a picture." + +She had snatched the book from Jimmy. He snatched it back. + +"Be careful, you'll tear that!" he cried. "I was just going to say that +I would get some fine wire or mosquito bar and make one." + +Dannie's fingers were itching to take the rod, if only for an instant. +He looked at it longingly. But Jimmy was impervious. He whipped it +softly about and eagerly read from the book. + +"Tells here about a man takin' a fish that weighed forty pounds with a +pole just like this," he announced. "Scat! Jumpin' Jehosophat! What do +you think of that!" + +"Couldn't you fish turn about with it?" inquired Mary. + +"Na, we couldna fish turn about with it," answered Dannie. "Na with +that pole. Jimmy would throw a fit if anybody else touched it. And he's +welcome to it. He never in this world will catch the Black Bass with +it. If I only had some way to put juist fifteen feet more line on my +pole, I'd show him how to take the Bass to-morrow. The way we always +have come to lose it is with too short lines. We have to try to land it +before it's tired out and it's strong enough to break and tear away. It +must have ragged jaws and a dozen pieces of line hanging to it, fra +both of us have hooked it time and again. When it strikes me, if I only +could give it fifteen feet more line, I could land it." + +"Can't you fix some way?" asked Mary. + +"I'll try," answered Dannie. + +"And in the manetime, I'd just be givin' it twinty off me dandy little +reel, and away goes me with Mr. Bass," said Jimmy. "I must take it to +town and have its picture took to sind the Thrid Man." + +And that was the last straw. Dannie had given up being allowed to touch +the rod, and was on his way to unhitch his team and do the evening +work. The day had been trying and just for the moment he forgot +everything save that his longing fingers had not touched that beautiful +little fishing rod. + +"The Boston man forgot another thing," he said. "The Dude who shindys +'round with those things in pictures, wears a damn, dinky, little +pleated coat!" + + + +Chapter VIII + +WHEN THE BLACK BASS STRUCK + + "Lots of fish down in the brook, + All you need is a rod, and a line, and a hook," + +hummed Jimmy, still lovingly fingering his possessions. + +"Did Dannie iver say a thing like that to you before?" asked Mary. + +"Oh, he's dead sore," explained Jimmy. "He thinks he should have had a +jinted rod, too." + +"And so he had," replied Mary. "You said yoursilf that you might have +killed that man if Dannie hadn't showed you that you were wrong." + +"You must think stuff like this is got at the tin-cint store," said +Jimmy. + +"Oh, no I don't!" said Mary. "I expect it cost three or four dollars." + +"Three or four dollars," sneered Jimmy. "All the sinse a woman has! +Feast your eyes on this book and rade that just this little reel alone +cost fifteen, and there's no telling what the rod is worth. Why it's +turned right out of pure steel, same as if it were wood. Look for +yoursilf." + +"Thanks, no! I'm afraid to touch it," said Mary. + +"Oh, you are sore too!" laughed Jimmy. "With all that money in it, I +should think you could see why I wouldn't want it broke." + +"You've sat there and whipped it around for an hour. Would it break it +for me or Dannie to do the same thing? If it had been his, you'd have +had a worm on it and been down to the river trying it for him by now." + +"Worm!" scoffed Jimmy. "A worm! That's a good one! Idjit! You don't +fish with worms with a jinted rod." + +"Well what do you fish with? Humming birds?" + +"No. You fish with--" Jimmy stopped and eyed Mary dubiously. "You fish +with a lot of things," he continued. "Some of thim come in little books +and they look like moths, and some like snake-faders, and some of them +are buck-tail and bits of tin, painted to look shiny. Once there was a +man in town who had a minnie made of rubber and all painted up just +like life. There were hooks on its head, and on its back, and its +belly, and its tail, so's that if a fish snapped at it anywhere it got +hooked." + +"I should say so!" exclaimed Mary. "It's no fair way to fish, to use +more than one hook. You might just as well take a net and wade in and +seine out the fish as to take a lot of hooks and rake thim out." + +"Well, who's going to take a lot of hooks and rake thim out?" + +"I didn't say anybody was. I was just saying it wouldn't be fair to the +fish if they did." + +"Course I wouldn't fish with no riggin' like that, when Dannie only has +one old hook. Whin we fish for the Bass, I won't use but one hook +either. All the same, I'm going to have some of those fancy baits. I'm +going to get Jim Skeels at the drug store to order thim for me. I know +just how you do," said Jimmy flourishing the rod. "You put on your bait +and quite a heavy sinker, and you wind it up to the ind of your rod, +and thin you stand up in your boat----" + +"Stand up in your boat!" + +"I wish you'd let me finish!--or on the bank, and you take this little +whipper-snapper, and you touch the spot on the reel that relases the +thrid, and you give the rod a little toss, aisy as throwin' away chips, +and off maybe fifty feet your bait hits the water, 'spat!' and 'snap!' +goes Mr. Bass, and 'stick!' goes the hook. See?" + +"What I see is that if you want to fish that way in the Wabash, you'll +have to wait until the dredge goes through and they make a canal out of +it; for be the time you'd throwed fifty feet, and your fish had run +another fifty, there'd be just one hundred snags, and logs, and stumps +between you; one for every foot of the way. It must look pretty on deep +water, where it can be done right, but I bet anything that if you go to +fooling with that on our river, Dannie gets the Bass." + +"Not much, Dannie don't 'gets the Bass,'" said Jimmy confidently. "Just +you come out here and let me show you how this works. Now you see, I +put me sinker on the ind of the thrid, no hook of course, for practice, +and I touch this little spring here, and give me little rod a whip and +away goes me bait, slick as grase. Mr. Bass is layin' in thim bass +weeds right out there, foreninst the pie-plant bed, and the bait +strikes the water at the idge, see! and 'snap,' he takes it and sails +off slow, to swally it at leisure. Here's where I don't pull a morsel. +Jist let him rin and swally, and whin me line is well out and he has me +bait all digistid, 'yank,' I give him the round-up, and THIN, the fun +begins. He leps clear of the water and I see he's tin pound. If he rins +from me, I give him rope, and if he rins to, I dig in, workin' me +little machane for dear life to take up the thrid before it slacks. +Whin he sees me, he makes a dash back, and I just got to relase me line +and let him go, because he'd bust this little silk thrid all to thunder +if I tried to force him onpleasant to his intintions, and so we kape it +up until he's plum wore out and comes a promenadin' up to me boat, bank +I mane, and I scoops him in, and that's sport, Mary! That's MAN'S +fishin'! Now watch! He's in thim bass weeds before the pie-plant, like +I said, and I'm here on the bank, and I THINK he's there, so I give me +little jinted rod a whip and a swing----" + +Jimmy gave the rod a whip and a swing. The sinker shot in air, struck +the limb of an apple tree and wound a dozen times around it. Jimmy said +things and Mary giggled. She also noticed that Dannie had stopped work +and was standing in the barn door watching intently. Jimmy climbed the +tree, unwound the line and tried again. + +"I didn't notice that domn apple limb stickin' out there," he said. +"Now you watch! Right out there among the bass weeds foreninst the +pie-plant." + +To avoid another limb, Jimmy aimed too low and the sinker shot under +the well platform not ten feet from him. + +"Lucky you didn't get fast in the bass weeds," said Mary as Jimmy +reeled in. + +"Will, I got to get me range," explained Jimmy. "This time----" + +Jimmy swung too high. The spring slipped from under his unaccustomed +thumb. The sinker shot above and behind him and became entangled in the +eaves, while yards of the fine silk line flew off the spinning reel and +dropped in tangled masses at his feet, and in an effort to do something +Jimmy reversed the reel and it wound back on tangles and all until it +became completely clogged. Mary had sat down on the back steps to watch +the exhibition. Now, she stood up to laugh. + +"And THAT'S just what will happen to you at the river," she said. +"While you are foolin' with that thing, which ain't for rivers, and +which you don't know beans about handlin', Dannie will haul in the +Bass, and serve you right, too!" + +"Mary," said Jimmy, "I niver struck ye in all me life, but if ye don't +go in the house, and shut up, I'll knock the head off ye!" + +"I wouldn't be advisin' you to," she said. "Dannie is watching you." + +Jimmy glanced toward the barn in time to see Dannie's shaking shoulders +as he turned from the door. With unexpected patience, he firmly closed +his lips and went after a ladder. By the time he had the sinker loose +and the line untangled, supper was ready. By the time he had mastered +the reel, and could land the sinker accurately in front of various +imaginary beds of bass weeds, Dannie had finished the night work in +both stables and gone home. But his back door stood open and therefrom +there protruded the point of a long, heavy cane fish pole. By the light +of a lamp on his table, Dannie could be seen working with pincers and a +ball of wire. + +"I wonder what he thinks he can do?" said Jimmy. + +"I suppose he is trying to fix some way to get that fifteen feet more +line he needs," replied Mary. + +When they went to bed the light still burned and the broad shoulders of +Dannie bent over the pole. Mary had fallen asleep, but she was awakened +by Jimmy slipping from the bed. He went to the window and looked toward +Dannie's cabin. Then he left the bedroom and she could hear him +crossing to the back window of the next room. Then came a smothered +laugh and he softly called her. She went to him. + +Dannie's figure stood out clear and strong in the moonlight, in his +wood-yard. His black outline looked unusually powerful in the silvery +whiteness surrounding it. + +He held his fishing pole in both hands and swept a circle about him +that would have required considerable space on Lake Michigan, and made +a cast toward the barn. The line ran out smoothly and evenly, and +through the gloom Mary saw Jimmy's figure straighten and his lips close +in surprise. Then Dannie began taking in line. That process was so +slow, Jimmy doubled up and laughed again. + +"Be lookin' at that, will ye?" he heaved. "What does the domn fool +think the Black Bass will be doin' while he is takin' in line on that +young windlass?" + +"There'd be no room on the river to do that," answered Mary serenely. +"Dannie wouldn't be so foolish as to try. All he wants now is to see if +his line will run, and it will. Whin he gets to the river, he'll swing +his bait where he wants it with his pole, like he always does, and whin +the Bass strikes he'll give it the extra fifteen feet more line he said +he needed, and thin he'll have a pole and line with which he can land +it." + +"Not on your life he won't!" said Jimmy. + +He opened the back door and stepped out just as Dannie raised the pole +again. + +"Hey, you! Quit raisin' Cain out there!" yelled Jimmy. "I want to get +some sleep." + +Across the night, tinged neither with chagrin nor rancor, boomed the +big voice of Dannie. + +"Believe I have my extra line fixed so it works all right," he said. +"Awful sorry if I waked you. Thought I was quiet." + +"How much did you make off that?" inquired Mary. + +"Two points," answered Jimmy. "Found out that Dannie ain't sore at me +any longer and that you are." + +Next morning was no sort of angler's weather, but the afternoon gave +promise of being good fishing by the morrow. Dannie worked about the +farms, preparing for winter; Jimmy worked with him until mid-afternoon, +then he hailed a boy passing, and they went away together. At supper +time Jimmy had not returned. Mary came to where Dannie worked. + +"Where's Jimmy?" she asked. + +"I dinna, know" said Dannie. "He went away a while ago with some boy, I +didna notice who." + +"And he didn't tell you where he was going?" + +"No." + +"And he didn't take either of his fish poles?" + +"No." + +Mary's lips thinned to a mere line. "Then it's Casey's," she said, and +turned away. + +Dannie was silent. Presently Mary came back. + +"If Jimmy don't come till morning," she asked, "or comes in shape that +he can't fish, will you go without him?" + +"To-morrow was the day we agreed on," answered Dannie. + +"Will you go without him?" persisted Mary. + +"What would HE do if it were me?" asked Dannie. + +"When have you iver done to Jimmy Malone what he would do if he were +you?" + +"Is there any reason why ye na want me to land the Black Bass, Mary?" + +"There is a particular reason why I don't want your living with Jimmy +to make you like him," answered Mary. "My timper is being wined, and I +can see where it's beginning to show on you. Whativer you do, don't do +what he would." + +"Dinna be hard on him, Mary. He doesna think," urged Dannie. + +"You niver said twer words. He don't think. He niver thought about +anybody in his life except himself, and he niver will." + +"Maybe he didna go to town!" + +"Maybe the sun won't rise in the morning, and it will always be dark +after this! Come in and get your supper." + +"I'd best pick up something to eat at home," said Dannie. + +"I have some good food cooked, and it's a pity to be throwin' it away. +What's the use? You've done a long day's work, more for us than +yoursilf, as usual; come along and get your supper." + +Dannie went, and as he was washing at the back door, Jimmy came through +the barn, and up the walk. He was fresh, and in fine spirits, and where +ever he had been, it was a sure thing that it was nowhere near Casey's. + +"Where have you been?" asked Mary wonderingly. + +"Robbin' graves," answered Jimmy promptly. "I needed a few stiffs in me +business so I just went out to Five Mile and got them." + +"What are ye going to do with them, Jimmy?" chuckled Dannie. + +"Use thim for Bass bait! Now rattle, old snake!" replied Jimmy. + +After supper Dannie went to the barn for the shovel to dig worms for +bait, and noticed that Jimmy's rubber waders hanging on the wall were +covered almost to the top with fresh mud and water stains, and Dannie's +wonder grew. + +Early the next morning they started for the river. As usual Jimmy led +the way. He proudly carried his new rod. Dannie followed with a basket +of lunch Mary had insisted on packing, his big cane pole, a can of +worms, and a shovel, in case they ran out of bait. + +Dannie had recovered his temper, and was just great-hearted, big Dannie +again. He talked about the south wind, and shivered with the frost, and +listened for the splash of the Bass. Jimmy had little to say. He seemed +to be thinking deeply. No doubt he felt in his soul that they should +settle the question of who landed the Bass with the same rods they had +used when the contest was proposed, and that was not all. + +When they came to the temporary bridge, Jimmy started across it, and +Dannie called to him to wait, he was forgetting his worms. + +"I don't want any worms," answered Jimmy briefly. He walked on. Dannie +stood staring after him, for he did not understand that. Then he went +slowly to his side of the river, and deposited his load under a tree +where it would be out of the way. + +He lay down his pole, took a rude wooden spool of heavy fish cord from +his pocket, and passed the line through the loop next the handle and so +on the length of the rod to the point. Then he wired on a sharp bass +hook, and wound the wire far up the doubled line. As he worked, he kept +an eye on Jimmy. He was doing practically the same thing. But just as +Dannie had fastened on a light lead to carry his line, a souse in the +river opposite attracted his attention. Jimmy hauled from the water a +minnow bucket, and opening it, took out a live minnow, and placed it on +his hook. "Riddy," he called, as he resank the bucket, and stood on the +bank, holding his line in his fingers, and watching the minnow play at +his feet. + +The fact that Dannie was a Scotchman, and unusually slow and patient, +did not alter the fact that he was just a common human being. The lump +that rose in his throat was so big, and so hard, he did not try to +swallow it. He hurried back into Rainbow Bottom. The first log he came +across he kicked over, and grovelling in the rotten wood and loose +earth with his hands, he brought up a half dozen bluish-white grubs. He +tore up the ground for the length of the log, and then he went to +others, cramming the worms and dirt with them into his pockets. When he +had enough, he went back, and with extreme care placed three of them on +his hook. He tried to see how Jimmy was going to fish, but he could not +tell. + +So Dannie decided that he would cast in the morning, fish deep at noon, +and cast again toward evening. + +He rose, turned to the river, and lifted his rod. As he stood looking +over the channel, and the pool where the Bass homed, the Kingfisher +came rattling down the river, and as if in answer to its cry, the Black +Bass gave a leap, that sent the water flying. + +"Ready!" cried Dannie, swinging his pole over the water. + +As the word left his lips, "whizz," Jimmy's minnow landed in the middle +of the circles widening about the rise of the Bass. There was a rush +and a snap, and Dannie saw the jaws of the big fellow close within an +inch of the minnow, and he swam after it for a yard, as Jimmy slowly +reeled in. Dannie waited a second, and then softly dropped his grubs on +the water just before where he figured the Bass would be. He could hear +Jimmy smothering oaths. Dannie said something himself as his untouched +bait neared the bank. He lifted it, swung it out, and slowly trailed it +in again. "Spat!" came Jimmy's minnow almost at his feet, and again the +Bass leaped for it. Again he missed. As the minnow reeled away the +second time, Dannie swung his grubs higher, and struck the water +"Spat," as the minnow had done. "Snap," went the Bass. One instant the +line strained, the next the hook came up stripped clean of bait. + +Then Dannie and Jimmy really went at it, and they were strangers. Not a +word of friendly banter crossed the river. They cast until the Bass +grew suspicious, and would not rise to the bait; then they fished deep. +Then they cast again. If Jimmy fell into trouble with his reel, Dannie +had the honesty to stop fishing until it worked again, but he spent the +time burrowing for grubs until his hands resembled the claws of an +animal. Sometimes they sat, and still-fished. Sometimes, they warily +slipped along the bank, trailing bait a few inches under water. Then +they would cast and skitter by turns. + +The Kingfisher struck his stump, and tilted on again. His mate, and +their family of six followed in his lead, so that their rattle was +almost constant. A fussy little red-eyed vireo asked questions, first +of Jimmy, and then crossing the river besieged Dannie, but neither of +the stern-faced fishermen paid it any heed. The blackbirds swung on the +rushes, and talked over the season. As always, a few crows cawed above +the deep woods, and the chewinks threshed about among the dry leaves. A +band of larks were gathering for migration, and the frosty air was +vibrant with their calls to each other. + +Killdeers were circling above them in flocks. A half dozen robins +gathered over a wild grapevine, and chirped cheerfully, as they pecked +at the frosted fruit. At times, the pointed nose of a muskrat wove its +way across the river, leaving a shining ripple in its wake. In the deep +woods squirrels barked and chattered. Frost-loosened crimson leaves +came whirling down, settling in a bright blanket that covered the water +several feet from the bank, and unfortunate bees that had fallen into +the river struggled frantically to gain a footing on them. Water +beetles shot over the surface in small shining parties, and schools of +tiny minnows played along the banks. Once a black ant assassinated an +enemy on Dannie's shoe, by creeping up behind it and puncturing its +abdomen. + +Noon came, and neither of the fishermen spoke or moved from their work. +The lunch Mary had prepared with such care they had forgotten. A little +after noon, Dannie got another strike, deep fishing. Mid-afternoon +found them still even, and patiently fishing. Then it was not so long +until supper time, and the air was steadily growing colder. The south +wind had veered to the west, and signs of a black frost were in the +air. About this time the larks arose as with one accord, and with a +whirr of wings that proved how large the flock was, they sailed +straight south. + +Jimmy hauled his minnow bucket from the river, poured the water from +it, and picked his last minnow, a dead one, from the grass. Dannie was +watching him, and rightly guessed that he would fish deep. So Dannie +scooped the remaining dirt from his pockets, and found three grubs. He +placed them on his hook, lightened his sinker, and prepared to skitter +once more. + +Jimmy dropped his minnow beside the Kingfisher stump, and let it sink. +Dannie hit the water at the base of the stump, where it had not been +disturbed for a long time, a sharp "Spat," with his worms. Something +seized his bait, and was gone. Dannie planted his feet firmly, squared +his jaws, gripped his rod, and loosened his line. As his eye followed +it, he saw to his amazement that Jimmy's line was sailing off down the +river beside his, and heard the reel singing. + +Dannie was soon close to the end of his line. He threw his weight into +a jerk enough to have torn the head from a fish, and down the river the +Black Bass leaped clear of the water, doubled, and with a mighty shake +tried to throw the hook from his mouth. + +"Got him fast, by God!" screamed Jimmy in triumph. + +Straight toward them rushed the fish. Jimmy reeled wildly; Dannie +gathered in his line by yard lengths, and grasped it with the hand that +held the rod. Near them the Bass leaped again, and sped back down the +river. Jimmy's reel sang, and Dannie's line jerked through his fingers. +Back came the fish. Again Dannie gathered in line, and Jimmy reeled +frantically. Then Dannie, relying on the strength of his line thought +he could land the fish, and steadily drew it toward him. Jimmy's reel +began to sing louder, and his line followed Dannie's. Instantly Jimmy +went wild. + +"Stop pullin' me little silk thrid!" he yelled. "I've got the Black +Bass hooked fast as a rock, and your domn clothes line is sawin' across +me. Cut there! Cut that domn rope! Quick!" + +"He's mine, and I'll land him!" roared Dannie. "Cut yoursel', and let +me get my fish!" + +So it happened, that when Mary Malone, tired of waiting for the boys to +come, and anxious as to the day's outcome, slipped down to the Wabash +to see what they were doing, she heard sounds that almost paralyzed +her. Shaking with fear, she ran toward the river, and paused at a +little thicket behind Dannie. + +Jimmy danced and raged on the opposite bank. "Cut!" he yelled. "Cut +that domn cable, and let me Bass loose! Cut your line, I say!" + +Dannie stood with his feet planted wide apart, and his jaws set. He +drew his line steadily toward him, and Jimmy's followed. "Ye see!" +exulted Dannie. "Ye're across me. The Bass is mine! Reel out your line +till I land him, if ye dinna want it broken." + +"If you don't cut your domn line, I will!" raved Jimmy. + +"Cut nothin'!" cried Dannie. "Let's see ye try to touch it!" + +Into the river went Jimmy; splash went Dannie from his bank. He was +nearer the tangled lines, but the water was deepest on his side, and +the mud of the bed held his feet. Jimmy reached the crossed lines, +knife in hand, by the time Dannie was there. + +"Will you cut?" cried Jimmy. + +"Na!" bellowed Dannie. "I've give up every damn thing to ye all my +life, but I'll no give up the Black Bass. He's mine, and I'll land him!" + +Jimmy made a lunge for the lines. Dannie swung his pole backward +drawing them his way. Jimmy slashed again. Dannie dropped his pole, and +with a sweep, caught the twisted lines in his fingers. + +"Noo, let's see ye cut my line! Babby!" he jeered. + +Jimmy's fist flew straight, and the blood streamed from Dannie's nose. +Dannie dropped the lines, and straightened. "You--" he panted. "You--" +And no other words came. + +If Jimmy had been possessed of any small particle of reason, he lost it +at the sight of blood on Dannie's face. + +"You're a domn fish thief!" he screamed. + +"Ye lie!" breathed Dannie, but his hand did not lift. + +"You are a coward! You're afraid to strike like a man! Hit me! You +don't dare hit me!" + +"Ye lie!" repeated Dannie. + +"You're a dog!" panted Jimmy. "I've used you to wait on me all me life!" + +"THAT'S the God's truth!" cried Dannie. But he made no movement to +strike. Jimmy leaned forward with a distorted, insane face. + +"That time you sint me to Mary for you, I lied to her, and married her +meself. NOW, will you fight like a man?" + +Dannie made a spring, and Jimmy crumpled up in his grasp. + +"Noo, I will choke the miserable tongue out of your heid, and twist the +heid off your body, and tear the body to mince-meat," raved Dannie, and +he promptly began the job. + +With one awful effort Jimmy tore the gripping hands from his throat a +little. "Lie!" he gasped. "It's all a lie!" + +"It's the truth! Before God it's the truth!" Mary Malone tried to +scream behind them. "It's the truth! It's the truth!" And her ears told +her that she was making no sound as with dry lips she mouthed it over +and over. And then she fainted, and sank down in the bushes. + +Dannie's hands relaxed a little, he lifted the weight of Jimmy's body +by his throat, and set him on his feet. "I'll give ye juist ane +chance," he said. "IS THAT THE TRUTH?" + +Jimmy's awful eyes were bulging from his head, his hands were clawing +at Dannie's on his throat, and his swollen lips repeated it over and +over as breath came, "It's a lie! It's a lie!" + +"I think so myself," said Dannie. "Ye never would have dared. Ye'd have +known that I'd find out some day, and on that day, I'd kill ye as I +would a copperhead." + +"A lie!" panted Jimmy. + +"Then WHY did ye tell it?" And Dannie's fingers threatened to renew +their grip. + +"I thought if I could make you strike back," gasped Jimmy, "my hittin' +you wouldn't same so bad." + +Then Dannie's hands relaxed. "Oh, Jimmy! Jimmy!" he cried. "Was there +ever any other mon like ye?" + +Then he remembered the cause of their trouble. + +"But, I'm everlastingly damned," Dannie went on, "if I'll gi'e up the +Black Bass to ye, unless it's on your line. Get yourself up there on +your bank!" + +The shove he gave Jimmy almost upset him, and Jimmy waded back, and as +he climbed the bank, Dannie was behind him. After him he dragged a +tangled mass of lines and poles, and at the last up the bank, and on +the grass, two big fish; one, the great Black Bass of Horseshoe Bend; +and the other nearly as large, a channel catfish; undoubtedly, one of +those which had escaped into the Wabash in an overflow of the Celina +reservoir that spring. + +"NOO, I'll cut," said Dannie. "Keep your eye on me sharp. See me cut my +line at the end o' my pole." He snipped the line in two. "Noo watch," +he cautioned, "I dinna want contra deection about this!" + +He picked up the Bass, and taking the line by which it was fast at its +mouth, he slowly drew it through his fingers. The wiry silk line +slipped away, and the heavy cord whipped out free. + +"Is this my line?" asked Dannie, holding it up. + +Jimmy nodded. + +"Is the Black Bass my fish? Speak up!" cried Dannie, dangling the fish +from the line. + +"It's yours," admitted Jimmy. + +"Then I'll be damned if I dinna do what I please wi' my own!" cried +Dannie. With trembling fingers he extracted the hook, and dropped it. +He took the gasping big fish in both hands, and tested its weight. +"Almost seex," he said. "Michty near seex!" And he tossed the Black +Bass back into the Wabash. + +Then he stooped, and gathered up his pole and line. + +With one foot he kicked the catfish, the tangled silk line, and the +jointed rod, toward Jimmy. "Take your fish!" he said. He turned and +plunged into the river, recrossed it as he came, gathered up the dinner +pail and shovel, passed Mary Malone, a tumbled heap in the bushes, and +started toward his cabin. + +The Black Bass struck the water with a splash, and sank to the mud of +the bottom, where he lay joyfully soaking his dry gills, parched +tongue, and glazed eyes. He scooped water with his tail, and poured it +over his torn jaw. And then he said to his progeny, "Children, let this +be a warning to you. Never rise to but one grub at a time. Three is too +good to be true! There is always a stinger in their midst." And the +Black Bass ruefully shook his sore head and scooped more water. + + + +Chapter IX + +WHEN JIMMY MALONE CAME TO CONFESSION + +Dannie never before had known such anger as possessed him when he +trudged homeward across Rainbow Bottom. His brain whirled in a tumult +of conflicting passions, and his heart pained worse than his swelling +face. In one instant the knowledge that Jimmy had struck him, possessed +him with a desire to turn back and do murder. In the next, a sense of +profound scorn for the cowardly lie which had driven him to the rage +that kills encompassed him, and then in a surge came compassion for +Jimmy, at the remberence of the excuse he had offered for saying that +thing. How childish! But how like Jimmy! What was the use in trying to +deal with him as if he were a man? A great spoiled, selfish baby was +all he ever would be. + +The fallen leaves rustled about Dannie's feet. The blackbirds above him +in chattering debate discussed migration. A stiff breeze swept the +fields, topped the embankment, and rushed down circling about Dannie, +and setting his teeth chattering, for he was almost as wet as if he had +been completely immersed. As the chill struck in, from force of habit +he thought of Jimmy. If he was ever going to learn how to take care of +himself, a man past thirty-five should know. Would he come home and put +on dry clothing? But when had Jimmy taken care of himself? Dannie felt +that he should go back, bring him home, and make him dress quickly. + +A sharp pain shot across Dannie's swollen face. His lips shut firmly. +No! Jimmy had struck him. And Jimmy was in the wrong. The fish was his, +and he had a right to it. No man living would have given it up to +Jimmy, after he had changed poles. And slipped away with a boy and +gotten those minnows, too! And wouldn't offer him even one. Much good +they had done him. Caught a catfish on a dead one! Wonder if he would +take the catfish to town and have its picture taken! Mighty fine fish, +too, that channel cat! If it hadn't been for the Black Bass, they would +have wondered and exclaimed over it, and carefully weighed it, and +commented on the gamy fight it made. Just the same he was glad, that he +landed the Bass. And he got it fairly. If Jimmy's old catfish mixed up +with his line, he could not help that. He baited, hooked, played, and +landed the Bass all right, and without any minnows either. + +When he reached the top of the hill he realized that he was going to +look back. In spite of Jimmy's selfishness, in spite of the blow, in +spite of the ugly lie, Jimmy had been his lifelong partner, and his +only friend, and stiffen his neck as he would, Dannie felt his head +turning. He deliberately swung his fish pole into the bushes, and when +it caught, as he knew it would, he set down his load, and turned as if +to release it. Not a sight of Jimmy anywhere! Dannie started on. + +"We are after you, Jimmy Malone!" + +A thin, little, wiry thread of a cry, that seemed to come twisting as +if wrung from the chill air about him, whispered in his ear, and Dannie +jumped, dropped his load, and ran for the river. He couldn't see a sign +of Jimmy. He hurried over the shaky little bridge they had built. The +catfish lay gasping on the grass, the case and jointed rod lay on a +log, but Jimmy was gone. + +Dannie gave the catfish a shove that sent it well into the river, and +ran for the shoals at the lower curve of Horseshoe Bend. The tracks of +Jimmy's crossing were plain, and after him hurried Dannie. He ran up +the hill, and as he reached the top he saw Jimmy climb on a wagon out +on the road. Dannie called, but the farmer touched up his horses and +trotted away without hearing him. "The fool! To ride!" thought Dannie. +"Noo he will chill to the bone!". + +Dannie cut across the fields to the lane and gathered up his load. With +the knowledge that Jimmy had started for town came the thought of Mary. +What was he going to say to her? He would have to make a clean breast +of it, and he did not like the showing. In fact, he simply could not +make a clean breast of it. Tell her? He could not tell her. He would +lie to her once more, this one time for himself. He would tell her he +fell in the river to account for his wet clothing and bruised face, and +wait until Jimmy came home and see what he told her. + +He went to the cabin and tapped at the door; there was no answer, so he +opened it and set the lunch basket inside. Then he hurried home, built +a fire, bathed, and put on dry clothing. He wondered where Mary was. He +was ravenously hungry now. He did all the evening work, and as she +still did not come, he concluded that she had gone to town, and that +Jimmy knew she was there. Of course, that was it! Jimmy could get dry +clothing of his brother-in-law. To be sure, Mary had gone to town. That +was why Jimmy went. + +And he was right. Mary had gone to town. When sense slowly returned to +her she sat up in the bushes and stared about her. Then she arose and +looked toward the river. The men were gone. Mary guessed the situation +rightly. They were too much of river men to drown in a few feet of +water; they scarcely would kill each other. They had fought, and Dannie +had gone home, and Jimmy to the consolation of Casey's. WHERE SHOULD +SHE GO? Mary Malone's lips set in a firm line. + +"It's the truth! It's the truth!" she panted over and over, and now +that there was no one to hear, she found that she could say it quite +plainly. As the sense of her outraged womanhood swept over her she grew +almost delirious. "I hope you killed him, Dannie Micnoun," she raved. +"I hope you killed him, for if you didn't, I will. Oh! Oh!" + +She was almost suffocating with rage. The only thing clear to her was +that she never again would live an hour with Jimmy Malone. He might +have gone home. Probably he did go for dry clothing. She would go to +her sister. She hurried across the bottom, with wavering knees she +climbed the embankment, then skirting the fields, she half walked, half +ran to the village, and selecting back streets and alleys, tumbled, +half distracted, into the home of her sister. + +"Holy Vargin!" screamed Katy Dolan. "Whativer do be ailin' you, Mary +Malone?" + +"Jimmy! Jimmy!" sobbed the shivering Mary. + +"I knew it! I knew it! I've ixpicted it for years!" cried Katy. + +"They've had a fight----" + +"Just what I looked for! I always told you they were too thick to last!" + +"And Jimmy told Dannie he'd lied to me and married me himsilf----" + +"He did! I saw him do it!" screamed Katy. + +"And Dannie tried to kill him----" + +"I hope to Hivin he got it done, for if any man iver naded killin'! A +carpse named Jimmy Malone would a looked good to me any time these +fiftane years. I always said----" + +"And he took it back----" + +"Just like the rid divil! I knew he'd do it! And of course that +mutton-head of a Dannie Micnoun belaved him, whativer he said." + +"Of course he did!" + +"I knew it! Didn't I say so first?" + +"And I tried to scrame and me tongue stuck----" + +"Sure! You poor lamb! My tongue always sticks! Just what I ixpicted!" + +"And me head just went round and I keeled over in the bushes----" + +"I've told Dolan a thousand times! I knew it! It's no news to me!" + +"And whin I came to, they were gone, and I don't know where, and I +don't care! But I won't go back! I won't go back! I'll not live with +him another day. Oh, Katy! Think how you'd feel if some one had +siparated you and Dolan before you'd iver been togither!" + +Katie Dolan gathered her sister into her arms. "You poor lamb," she +wailed. "I've known ivery word of this for fiftane years, and if I'd +had the laste idea 'twas so, I'd a busted Jimmy Malone to smithereens +before it iver happened!" + +"I won't go back! I won't go back!" raved Mary. + +"I guess you won't go back," cried Katy, patting every available spot +on Mary, or making dashes at her own eyes to stop the flow of tears. "I +guess you won't go back! You'll stay right here with me. I've always +wanted you! I always said I'd love to have you! I've told thim from the +start there was something wrong out there! I've ixpicted you ivry day +for years, and I niver was so surprised in all me life as whin you +came! Now, don't you shed another tear. The Lord knows this is enough, +for anybody. None at all would be too many for Jimmy Malone. You get +right into bid, and I'll make you a cup of rid-pipper tay to take the +chill out of you. And if Jimmy Malone comes around this house I'll lav +him out with the poker, and if Dannie Micnoun comes saft-saddering +after him I'll stritch him out too; yis, and if Dolan's got anything to +say, he can take his midicine like the rist. The min are all of a pace +anyhow! I've always said it! If I wouldn't like to get me fingers on +that haythen; never goin' to confission, spindin' ivrything on himself +you naded for dacent livin'! Lit him come! Just lit him come!" + +Thus forestalled with knowledge, and overwhelmed with kindness, Mary +Malone cuddled up in bed and sobbed herself to sleep, and Katy Dolan +assured her, as long as she was conscious, that she always had known +it, and if Jimmy Malone came near, she had the poker ready. + +Dannie did the evening work. When he milked he drank most of it, but +that only made him hungrier, so he ate the lunch he had brought back +from the river, as he sat before a roaring fire. His heart warmed with +his body. Irresponsible Jimmy always had aroused something of the +paternal instinct in Dannie. Some one had to be responsible, so Dannie +had been. Some way he felt responsible now. With another man like +himself, it would have been man to man, but he always had spoiled +Jimmy; now who was to blame that he was spoiled? + +Dannie was very tired, his face throbbed and ached painfully, and it +was a sight to see. His bed never had looked so inviting, and never had +the chance to sleep been further away. With a sigh, he buttoned his +coat, twisted an old scarf around his neck, and started for the barn. +There was going to be a black frost. The cold seemed to pierce him. He +hitched to the single buggy, and drove to town. He went to Casey's, and +asked for Jimmy. + +"He isn't here," said Casey. + +"Has he been here?" asked Dannie. + +Casey hesitated, and then blurted out, "He said you wasn't his keeper, +and if you came after him, to tell you to go to Hell." + +Then Dannie was sure that Jimmy was in the back room, drying his +clothing. So he drove to Mrs. Dolan's, and asked if Mary were there for +the night. Mrs. Dolan said she was, and she was going to stay, and he +might tell Jimmy Malone that he need not come near them, unless he +wanted his head laid open. She shut the door forcibly. + +Dannie waited until Casey closed at eleven, and to his astonishment +Jimmy was not among the men who came out. That meant that he had drank +lightly after all, slipped from the back door, and gone home. And yet, +would he do it, after what he had said about being afraid? If he had +not drank heavily, he would not go into the night alone, when he had +been afraid in the daytime. Dannie climbed from the buggy once more, +and patiently searched the alley and the street leading to the footpath +across farms. No Jimmy. Then Dannie drove home, stabled his horse, and +tried Jimmy's back door. It was unlocked. If Jimmy were there, he +probably would be lying across the bed in his clothing, and Dannie knew +that Mary was in town. He made a light, and cautiously entered the +sleeping room, intending to undress and cover Jimmy, but Jimmy was not +there. + +Dannie's mouth fell open. He put out the light, and stood on the back +steps. The frost had settled in a silver sheen over the roofs of the +barns and the sheds, and a scum of ice had frozen over a tub of +drippings at the well. Dannie was bitterly cold. He went home, and +hunted out his winter overcoat, lighted his lantern, picked up a heavy +cudgel in the corner, and started to town on foot over the path that +lay across the fields. He followed it to Casey's back door. He went to +Mrs. Dolan's again, but everything was black and silent there. There +had been evening trains. He thought of Jimmy's frequent threat to go +away. He dismissed that thought grimly. There had been no talk of going +away lately, and he knew that Jimmy had little money. Dannie started +for home, and for a rod on either side he searched the path. As he came +to the back of the barns, he rated himself for not thinking of them +first. He searched both of them, and all around them, and then wholly +tired, and greatly disgusted, he went home and to bed. He decided that +Jimmy HAD gone to Mrs. Dolan's and that kindly woman had relented and +taken him in. Of course that was where he was. + +Dannie was up early in the morning. He wanted to have the work done +before Mary and Jimmy came home. He fed the stock, milked, built a +fire, and began cleaning the stables. As he wheeled the first barrow of +manure to the heap, he noticed a rooster giving danger signals behind +the straw-stack. At the second load it was still there, and Dannie went +to see what alarmed it. + +Jimmy lay behind the stack, where he had fallen face down, and as +Dannie tried to lift him he saw that he would have to cut him loose, +for he had frozen fast in the muck of the barnyard. He had pitched +forward among the rough cattle and horse tracks and fallen within a few +feet of the entrance to a deep hollow eaten out of the straw by the +cattle. Had he reached that shelter he would have been warm enough and +safe for the night. + +Horrified, Dannie whipped out his knife, cut Jimmy's clothing loose and +carried him to his bed. He covered him, and hitching up drove at top +speed for a doctor. He sent the physician ahead and then rushed to Mrs. +Dolan's. She saw him drive up and came to the door. + +"Send Mary home and ye come too," Dannie called before she had time to +speak. "Jimmy lay oot all last nicht, and I'm afraid he's dead." + +Mrs. Dolan hurried in and repeated the message to Mary. She sat +speechless while her sister bustled about putting on her wraps. + +"I ain't goin'," she said shortly. "If I got sight of him, I'd kill him +if he wasn't dead." + +"Oh, yis you are goin'," said Katy Dolan. "If he's dead, you know, it +will save you being hanged for killing him. Get on these things of mine +and hurry. You got to go for decency sake; and kape a still tongue in +your head. Dannie Micnoun is waiting for us." + +Together they went out and climbed into the carriage. Mary said +nothing, but Dannie was too miserable to notice. + +"You didn't find him thin, last night?" asked Mrs. Dolan. + +"Na!" shivered Dannie. "I was in town twice. I hunted almost all nicht. +At last I made sure you had taken him in and I went to bed. It was +three o'clock then. I must have passed often, wi'in a few yards of him." + +"Where was he?" asked Katy. + +"Behind the straw-stack," replied Dannie. + +"Do you think he will die?" + +"Dee!" cried Dannie. "Jimmy dee! Oh, my God! We mauna let him!" + +Mrs. Dolan took a furtive peep at Mary, who, dry-eyed and white, was +staring straight ahead. She was trembling and very pale, but if Katy +Dolan knew anything she knew that her sister's face was unforgiving and +she did not in the least blame her. + +Dannie reached home as soon as the horse could take them, and under the +doctor's directions all of them began work. Mary did what she was told, +but she did it deliberately, and if Dannie had taken time to notice her +he would have seen anything but his idea of a woman facing death for +any one she ever had loved. Mary's hurt went so deep, Mrs. Dolan had +trouble to keep it covered. Some of the neighbors said Mary was +cold-hearted, and some of them that she was stupefied with grief. + +Without stopping for food or sleep, Dannie nursed Jimmy. He rubbed, he +bathed, he poulticed, he badgered the doctor and cursed his inability +to do some good. To every one except Dannie, Jimmy's case was hopeless +from the first. He developed double pneumonia in its worst form and he +was in no condition to endure it in the lightest. His labored breathing +could be heard all over the cabin, and he could speak only in gasps. On +the third day he seemed a little better, and when Dannie asked what he +could do for him, "Father Michael," Jimmy panted, and clung to Dannie's +hand. + +Dannie sent a man and remained with Jimmy. He made no offer to go when +the priest came. + +"This is probably in the nature of a last confession," said Father +Michael to Dannie, "I shall have to ask you to leave us alone." + +Dannie felt the hand that clung to him relax, and the perspiration +broke on his temples. "Shall I go, Jimmy?" he asked. + +Jimmy nodded. Dannie arose heavily and left the room. He sat down +outside the door and rested his head in his hands. + +The priest stood beside Jimmy. "The doctor tells me it is difficult for +you to speak," he said, "I will help you all I can. I will ask +questions and you need only assent with your head or hand. Do you wish +the last sacrament administered, Jimmy Malone?" + +The sweat rolled off Jimmy's brow. He assented. + +"Do you wish to make final confession?" + +A great groan shook Jimmy. The priest remembered a gay, laughing boy, +flinging back a shock of auburn hair, his feet twinkling in the lead of +the dance. Here was ruin to make the heart of compassion ache. The +Father bent and clasped the hand of Jimmy firmly. The question he asked +was between Jimmy Malone and his God. The answer almost strangled him. + +"Can you confess that mortal sin, Jimmy?" asked the priest. + +The drops on Jimmy's face merged in one bath of agony. His hands +clenched and his breath seemed to go no lower than his throat. + +"Lied--Dannie," he rattled. "Sip-rate him--and Mary." + +"Are you trying to confess that you betrayed a confidence of Dannie +Macnoun and married the girl who belonged to him, yourself?" + +Jimmy assented. + +His horrified eyes hung on the priest's face and saw it turn cold and +stern. Always the thing he had done had tormented him; but not until +the past summer had he begun to realize the depth of it, and it had +almost unseated his reason. But not until now had come fullest +appreciation, and Jimmy read it in the eyes filled with repulsion above +him. + +"And with that sin on your soul, you ask the last sacrament and the +seal of forgiveness! You have not wronged God and the Holy Catholic +Church as you have this man, with whom you have lived for years, while +you possessed his rightful wife. Now he is here, in deathless devotion, +fighting to save you. You may confess to him. If he will forgive you, +God and the Church will ratify it, and set the seal on your brow. If +not, you die unshriven! I will call Dannie Macnoun." + +One gurgling howl broke from the swollen lips of Jimmy. + +As Dannie entered the room, the priest spoke a few words to him, +stepped out and closed the door. Dannie hurried to Jimmy's side. + +"He said ye wanted to tell me something," said Dannie. "What is it? Do +you want me to do anything for you?" + +Suddenly Jimmy struggled to a sitting posture. His popping eyes almost +burst from their sockets as he clutched Dannie with both hands. The +perspiration poured in little streams down his dreadful face. + +"Mary," the next word was lost in a strangled gasp. Then came "yours" +and then a queer rattle. Something seemed to give way. "The Divils!" he +shrieked. "The Divils have got me!" + +Snap! his heart failed, and Jimmy Malone went out to face his record, +unforgiven by man, and unshriven by priest. + + + +Chapter X + +DANNIE'S RENUNCIATION + +So they stretched Jimmy's length on Five Mile Hill beside the three +babies that had lacked the "vital spark." Mary went to the Dolans for +the winter and Dannie was left, sole occupant of Rainbow Bottom. +Because so much fruit and food that would freeze were stored there, he +was even asked to live in Jimmy's cabin. + +Dannie began the winter stolidly. All day long and as far as he could +find anything to do in the night, he worked. He mended everything about +both farms, rebuilt all the fences and as a never-failing resource, he +cut wood. He cut so much that he began to realize that it would get too +dry and the burning of it would become extravagant, so he stopped that +and began making some changes he had long contemplated. During fur time +he set his line of traps on his side of the river and on the other he +religiously set Jimmy's. + +But he divided the proceeds from the skins exactly in half, no matter +whose traps caught them, and with Jimmy's share of the money he started +a bank account for Mary. As he could not use all of them he sold +Jimmy's horses, cattle and pigs. With half the stock gone he needed +only half the hay and grain stored for feeding. He disposed of the +chickens, turkeys, ducks, and geese that Mary wanted sold, and placed +the money to her credit. He sent her a beautiful little red bank book +and an explanation of all these transactions by Dolan. Mary threw the +book across the room because she wanted Dannie to keep her money +himself, and then cried herself to sleep that night, because Dannie had +sent the book instead of bringing it. But when she fully understood the +transactions and realized that if she chose she could spend several +hundred dollars, she grew very proud of that book. + +About the empty cabins and the barns, working on the farms, wading the +mud and water of the river bank, or tingling with cold on the ice went +two Dannies. The one a dull, listless man, mechanically forcing a +tired, overworked body to action, and the other a self-accused murderer. + +"I am responsible for the whole thing," he told himself many times a +day. "I always humored Jimmy. I always took the muddy side of the road, +and the big end of the log, and the hard part of the work, and filled +his traps wi' rats from my own; why in God's name did I let the Deil o' +stubbornness in me drive him to his death, noo? Why didna I let him +have the Black Bass? Why didna I make him come home and put on dry +clothes? I killed him, juist as sure as if I'd taken an ax and broken +his heid." + +Through every minute of the exposure of winter outdoors and the torment +of it inside, Dannie tortured himself. Of Mary he seldom thought at +all. She was safe with her sister, and although Dannie did not know +when or how it happened, he awoke one day to the realization that he +had renounced her. He had killed Jimmy; he could not take his wife and +his farm. And Dannie was so numb with long-suffering, that he did not +much care. There come times when troubles pile so deep that the edge of +human feeling is dulled. + +He would take care of Mary, yes, she was as much Jimmy's as his farm, +but he did not want her for himself now. If he had to kill his only +friend, he would not complete his downfall by trying to win his wife. +So through that winter Mary got very little consideration in the +remorseful soul of Dannie, and Jimmy grew, as the dead grow, by leaps +and bounds, until by spring Dannie had him well-nigh canonized. + +When winter broke, Dannie had his future well mapped out. And that +future was devotion to Jimmy's memory, with no more of Mary in it than +was possible to keep out. He told himself that he was glad she was away +and he did not care to have her return. Deep in his soul he harbored +the feeling that he had killed Jimmy to make himself look victor in her +eyes in such a small matter as taking a fish. And deeper yet a feeling +that, everything considered, still she might mourn Jimmy more than she +did. + +So Dannie definitely settled that he always would live alone on the +farms. Mary should remain with her sister, and at his death, everything +should be hers. The night he finally reached that decision, the +Kingfisher came home. Dannie heard his rattle of exultation as he +struck the embankment and the suffering man turned his face to the wall +and sobbed aloud, so that for a little time he stifled Jimmy's dying +gasps that in wakeful night hours sounded in his ears. Early the next +morning he drove through the village on his way to the county seat, +with a load of grain. Dolan saw him and running home he told Mary. "He +will be gone all day. Now is your chance!" he said. + +Mary sprang to her feet, "Hurry!" she panted, "hurry!" + +An hour later a loaded wagon, a man and three women drew up before the +cabins in Rainbow Bottom. Mary, her sister, Dolan, and a scrub woman +entered. Mary pointed out the objects which she wished removed, and +Dolan carried them out. They took up the carpets, swept down the walls, +and washed the windows. They hung pictures, prints, and lithographs, +and curtained the windows in dainty white. They covered the floors with +bright carpets, and placed new ornaments on the mantle, and comfortable +furniture in the rooms. There was a white iron bed, and several rocking +chairs, and a shelf across the window filled with potted hyacinths in +bloom. Among them stood a glass bowl, containing three wonderful little +gold fish, and from the top casing hung a brass cage, from which a +green linnet sang an exultant song. + +You should have seen Mary Malone! When everything was finished, she was +changed the most of all. She was so sure of Dannie, that while the +winter had brought annoyance that he did not come, it really had been +one long, glorious rest. She laughed and sang, and grew younger with +every passing day. As youth surged back, with it returned roundness of +form, freshness of face, and that bred the desire to be daintily +dressed. So of pretty light fabrics she made many summer dresses, for +wear mourning she would not. + +When calmness returned to Mary, she had told the Dolans the whole +story. "Now do you ixpict me to grieve for the man?" she asked. +"Fiftane years with him, through his lying tongue, whin by ivery right +of our souls and our bodies, Dannie Micnoun and I belanged to each +other. Mourn for him! I'm glad he's dead! Glad! Glad! If he had not +died, I should have killed him, if Dannie did not! It was a happy thing +that he died. His death saved me mortal sin. I'm glad, I tell you, and +I do not forgive him, and I niver will, and I hope he will burn----" + +Katy Dolan clapped her hand over Mary's mouth. "For the love of marcy, +don't say that!" she cried. "You will have to confiss it, and you'd be +ashamed to face the praste." + +"I would not," cried Mary. "Father Michael knows I'm just an ordinary +woman, he don't ixpict me to be an angel." But she left the sentence +unfinished. + +After Mary's cabin was arranged to her satisfaction, they attacked +Dannie's; emptying it, cleaning it completely, and refurnishing it from +the best of the things that had been in both. Then Mary added some new +touches. A comfortable big chair was placed by his fire, new books on +his mantle, a flower in his window, and new covers on his bed. While +the women worked, Dolan raked the yards, and freshened matters outside +as best he could. When everything they had planned to do was +accomplished, the wagon, loaded with the ugly old things Mary despised, +drove back to the village, and she, with little Tilly Dolan for +company, remained. + +Mary was tense with excitement. All the woman in her had yearned for +these few pretty things she wanted for her home throughout the years +that she had been compelled to live in crude, ugly surroundings; +because every cent above plainest clothing and food, went for drink for +Jimmy, and treats for his friends. Now she danced and sang, and flew +about trying a chair here, and another there, to get the best effect. +Every little while she slipped into her bedroom, stood before a real +dresser, and pulled out its trays to make sure that her fresh, light +dresses were really there. She shook out the dainty curtains +repeatedly, watered the flowers, and fed the fish when they did not +need it. She babbled incessantly to the green linnet, which with +swollen throat rejoiced with her, and occasionally she looked in the +mirror. + +She lighted the fire, and put food to cook. She covered a new table, +with a new cloth, and set it with new dishes, and placed a jar of her +flowers in the center. What a supper she did cook! When she had waited +until she was near crazed with nervousness, she heard the wagon coming +up the lane. Peeping from the window, she saw Dannie stop the horses +short, and sit staring at the cabins, and she realized that smoke would +be curling from the chimney, and the flowers and curtains would change +the shining windows outside. She trembled with excitement, and than a +great yearning seized her, as he slowly drove closer, for his brown +hair was almost white, and the lines on his face seemed indelibly +stamped. And then hot anger shook her. Fifteen years of her life +wrecked, and look at Dannie! That was Jimmy Malone's work. + +Over and over, throughout the winter, she had planned this home-coming +as a surprise to Dannie. Book-fine were the things she intended to say +to him. When he opened the door, and stared at her and about the +altered room, she swiftly went to him, and took the bundles he carried +from his arms. + +"Hurry up, and unhitch, Dannie," she said. "Your supper is waiting." + +And Dannie turned and stolidly walked back to his team, without +uttering a word. + +"Uncle Dannie!" cried a child's voice. "Please let me ride to the barn +with you!" + +A winsome little maid came rushing to Dannie, threw her arms about his +neck, and hugged him tight, as he stooped to lift her. Her yellow curls +were against his cheek, and her breath was flower-sweet in his face. + +"Why didn't you kiss Aunt Mary?" she demanded. "Daddy Dolan always +kisses mammy when he comes from all day gone. Aunt Mary's worked so +hard to please you. And Daddie worked, and mammy worked, and another +woman. You are pleased, ain't you, Uncle Dannie?" + +"Who told ye to call me Uncle?" asked Dannie, with unsteady lips. + +"She did!" announced the little woman, flourishing the whip in the +direction of the cabin. Dannie climbed down to unhitch. "You are goin' +to be my Uncle, ain't you, as soon as it's a little over a year, so +folks won't talk?" + +"Who told ye that?" panted Dannie, hiding behind a horse. + +"Nobody told me! Mammy just SAID it to Daddy, and I heard," answered +the little maid. "And I'm glad of it, and so are all of us glad. Mammy +said she'd just love to come here now, whin things would be like white +folks. Mammy said Aunt Mary had suffered a lot more'n her share. Say, +you won't make her suffer any more, will you?" + +"No," moaned Dannie, and staggered into the barn with the horses. He +leaned against a stall, and shut his eyes. He could see the bright +room, plainer than ever, and that little singing bird sounded loud as +any thunder in his ears. And whether closed or open, he could see Mary, +never in all her life so beautiful, never so sweet; flesh and blood +Mary, in a dainty dress, with the shining, unafraid eyes of girlhood. +It was that thing which struck Dannie first, and hit him hardest. Mary +was a careless girl again. When before had he seen her with neither +trouble, anxiety or, worse yet, FEAR, in her beautiful eyes? + +And she had come to stay. She would not have refurnished her cabin +otherwise. Dannie took hold of the manger with both hands, because his +sinking knees needed bracing. + +"Dannie," called Mary's voice in the doorway, "has my spickled hin +showed any signs of setting yet?" + +"She's been over twa weeks," answered Dannie. "She's in that barrel +there in the corner." + +Mary entered the barn, removed the prop, lowered the board, and +kneeling, stroked the hen, and talked softly to her. She slipped a hand +under the hen, and lifted her to see the eggs. Dannie staring at Mary +noted closer the fresh, cleared skin, the glossy hair, the delicately +colored cheeks, and the plumpness of the bare arms. One little wisp of +curl lay against the curve of her neck, just where it showed rose-pink, +and looked honey sweet. And in one great surge, the repressed stream of +passion in the strong man broke, and Dannie swayed against his horse. +His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and he caught at the harness +to steady himself, while he strove to grow accustomed to the fact that +Hell had opened in a new form for him. The old heart hunger for Mary +Malone was back in stronger force than ever before; and because of him +Jimmy lay stretched on Five Mile Hill. + +"Dannie, you are just fine!" said Mary. "I've been almost wild to get +home, because I thought iverything would be ruined, and instid of that +it's all ixactly the way I do it. Do hurry, and get riddy for supper. +Oh, it's so good to be home again! I want to make garden, and fix my +flowers, and get some little chickens and turkeys into my fingers." + +"I have to go home, and wash, and spruce up a bit, for ladies," said +Dannie, leaving the barn. + +Mary made no reply, and it came to him that she expected it. "Damned if +I will!" he said, as he started home. "If she wants to come here, and +force herself on me, she can, but she canna mak' me." + +Just then Dannie stepped in his door, and slowly gazed about him. In a +way his home was as completely transformed as hers. He washed his face +and hands, and started for a better coat. His sleeping room shone with +clean windows, curtained in snowy white. A freshly ironed suit of +underclothing and a shirt lay on his bed. Dannie stared at them. + +"She think's I'll tog up in them, and come courtin'" he growled. "I'll +show her if I do! I winna touch them!" + +To prove that he would not, Dannie caught them up in a wad, and threw +them into a corner. That showed a clean sheet, fresh pillow, and new +covers, invitingly spread back. Dannie turned as white as the pillow at +which he stared. + +"That's a damn plain insinuation that I'm to get into ye," he said to +the bed, "and go on living here. I dinna know as that child's jabber +counts. For all I know, Mary may already have picked out some town dude +to bring here and farm out on me, and they'll live with the bird cage, +and I can go on climbin' into ye alone." + +Here was a new thought. Mary might mean only kindness to him again, as +she had sent word by Jimmy she meant years ago. He might lose her for +the second time. And again a wave of desire struck Dannie, and left him +staggering. + +"Ain't you comin', Uncle Dannie?" called the child's voice at the back +door. + +"What's your name, little lass?" inquired Dannie. + +"Tilly," answered the little girl promptly. + +"Well, Tilly, ye go tell your Aunt Mary I have been in an eelevator +handlin' grain, and I'm covered wi' fine dust and chaff that sticks me. +I canna come until I've had a bath, and put on clean clothing. Tell her +to go ahead." + +The child vanished. In a second she was back. "She said she won't do +it, and take all the time you want. But I wish you'd hurry, for she +won't let me either." + +Dannie hurried. But the hasty bath and the fresh clothing felt so good +he was in a softened mood when he approached Mary's door again. Tilly +was waiting on the step, and ran to meet him. Tilly was a dream. +Almost, Dannie understood why Mary had brought her. Tilly led him to +the table, and pulled back a chair for him, and he lifted her into +hers, and as Mary set dish after dish of food on the table, Tilly +filled in every pause that threatened to grow awkward with her chatter. +Dannie had been a very lonely man, and he did love Mary's cooking. +Until then he had not realized how sore a trial six months of his own +had been. + +"If I was a praying mon, I'd ask a blessing, and thank God fra this +food," said Dannie. + +"What's the matter with me?" asked Mary. + +"I have never yet found anything," answered Dannie. "And I do thank ye +fra everything. I believe I'm most thankful of all fra the clean +clothes and the clean bed. I'm afraid I was neglectin' myself, Mary." + +"Will, you'll not be neglected any more," said Mary. "Things have +turned over a new leaf here. For all you give, you get some return, +after this. We are going to do business in a businesslike way, and +divide even. I liked that bank account, pretty will, Dannie. Thank you, +for that. And don't think I spint all of it. I didn't spind a hundred +dollars all togither. Not the price of one horse! But it made me so +happy I could fly. Home again, and the things I've always wanted, and +nothing to fear. Oh, Dannie, you don't know what it manes to a woman to +be always afraid! My heart is almost jumping out of my body, just with +pure joy that the old fear is gone." + +"I know what it means to a mon to be afraid," said Dannie. And vividly +before him loomed the awful, distorted, dying face of Jimmy. + +Mary guessed, and her bright face clouded. + +"Some day, Dannie, we must have a little talk," she said, "and clear up +a few things neither of us understand. 'Til thin we will just farm, and +be partners, and be as happy as iver we can. I don't know as you mean +to, but if you do, I warn you right now that you need niver mintion the +name of Jimmy Malone to me again, for any reason." + +Dannie left the cabin abruptly. + +"Now you gone and made him mad!" reproached Tilly. + +During the past winter Mary had lived with other married people for the +first time, and she had imbibed some of Mrs. Dolan's philosophy. + +"Whin he smells the biscuit I mane to make for breakfast, he'll get +glad again," she said, and he did. + +But first he went home, and tried to learn where he stood. WAS HE TRULY +RESPONSIBLE FOR JIMMY'S DEATH? Yes. If he had acted like a man, he +could have saved Jimmy. He was responsible. Did he want to marry Mary? +Did he? Dannie reached empty arms to empty space, and groaned aloud. +Would she marry him? Well, now, would she? After years of neglect and +sorrow, Dannie knew that Mary had learned to prefer him to Jimmy. But +almost any man would have been preferable to a woman, to Jimmy. Jimmy +was distinctly a man's man. A jolly good fellow, but he would not deny +himself anything, no matter what it cost his wife, and he had been very +hard to live with. Dannie admitted that. So Mary had come to prefer him +to Jimmy, that was sure; but it was not a question between him and +Jimmy, now. It was between him, and any marriageable man that Mary +might fancy. + +He had grown old, and gray, and wrinkled, though he was under forty. +Mary had grown round, and young, and he had never seen her looking so +beautiful. Surely she would want a man now as young, and as fresh as +herself; and she might want to live in town after a while, if she grew +tired of the country. Could he remember Jimmy's dreadful death, realize +that he was responsible for it, and make love to his wife? No, she was +sacred to Jimmy. Could he live beside her, and lose her to another man +for the second time? No, she belonged to him. It was almost daybreak +when Dannie remembered the fresh bed, and lay down for a few hours' +rest. + +But there was no rest for Dannie, and after tossing about until dawn he +began his work. When he carried the milk into the cabin, and smelled +the biscuit, he fulfilled Mary's prophecy, got glad again, and came to +breakfast. Then he went about his work. But as the day wore on, he +repeatedly heard the voice of the woman and the child, combining in a +chorus of laughter. From the little front porch, the green bird warbled +and trilled. Neighbors who had heard of her return came up the lane to +welcome a happy Mary Malone. The dead dreariness of winter melted +before the spring sun, and in Dannie's veins the warm blood swept up, +as the sap flooded the trees, and in spite of himself he grew gladder +and yet gladder. + +He now knew how he had missed Mary. How he had loathed that empty, +silent cabin. How remorse and heart hunger had gnawed at his vitals, +and he decided that he would go on just as Mary had said, and let +things drift; and when she was ready to have the talk with him she had +mentioned, he would hear what she had to say. And as he thought over +these things, he caught himself watching for furrows that Jimmy was not +making on the other side of the field. He tried to talk to the robins +and blackbirds instead of Jimmy, but they were not such good company. +And when the day was over, he tried not to be glad that he was going to +the shining eyes of Mary Malone, a good supper, and a clean bed, and it +was not in the heart of man to do it. + +The summer wore on, autumn came, and the year Tilly had spoken of was +over. Dannie went his way, doing the work of two men, thinking of +everything, planning for everything, and he was all the heart of Mary +Malone could desire, save her lover. By little Mary pieced it out. +Dannie never mentioned fishing; he had lost his love for the river. She +knew that he frequently took walks to Five Mile Hill. His devotion to +Jimmy's memory was unswerving. And at last it came to her, that in +death as in life, Jimmy Malone was separating them. She began to +realize that there might be things she did not know. What had Jimmy +told the priest? Why had Father Michael refused to confess Jimmy until +he sent Dannie to him? What had passed between them? If it was what she +had thought all year, why did it not free Dannie to her? If there was +something more, what was it? + +Surely Dannie loved her. Much as he had cared for Jimmy, he had vowed +that everything was for her first. She was eager to be his wife, and +something bound him. One day, she decided to ask him. The next, she +shrank in burning confusion, for when Jimmy Malone had asked for her +love, she had admitted to him that she loved Dannie, and Jimmy had told +her that it was no use, Dannie did not care for girls, and that he had +said he wished she would not thrust herself upon him. On the strength +of that statement Mary married Jimmy inside five weeks, and spent years +in bitter repentance. + +That was the thing which held her now. If Dannie knew what she did, and +did not care to marry her, how could she mention it? Mary began to grow +pale, and lose sleep, and Dannie said the heat of the summer had tired +her, and suggested that she go to Mrs. Dolan's for a weeks rest. The +fact that he was willing, and possibly anxious to send her away for a +whole week, angered Mary. She went. + + + +Chapter XI + +THE POT OF GOLD + +Mary had not been in the Dolan home an hour until Katy knew all she +could tell of her trouble. Mrs. Dolan was practical. "Go to see Father +Michael," she said. "What's he for but to hilp us. Go ask him what +Jimmy told him. Till him how you feel and what you know. He can till +you what Dannie knows and thin you will understand where you are at." + +Mary was on the way before Mrs. Dolan fully finished. She went to the +priest's residence and asked his housekeeper to inquire if he would see +her. He would, and Mary entered his presence strangely calm and +self-possessed. This was the last fight she knew of that she could make +for happiness, and if she lost, happiness was over for her. She had +need of all her wit and she knew it. Father Michael began laughing as +he shook hands. + +"Now look here, Mary," he said, "I've been expecting you. I warn you +before you begin that I cannot sanction your marriage to a Protestant." + +"Oh, but I'm going to convart him!" cried Mary so quickly that the +priest laughed harder than ever. + +"So that's the lay of the land!" he chuckled. "Well, if you'll +guarantee that, I'll give in. When shall I read the banns?" + +"Not until we get Dannie's consint," answered Mary, and for the first +her voice wavered. + +Father Michael looked his surprise. "Tut! Tut!" he said. "And is Dannie +dilatory?" + +"Dannie is the finest man that will ever live in this world," said +Mary, "but he don't want to marry me." + +"To my certain knowledge Dannie has loved you all your life," said +Father Michael. "He wants nothing here or hereafter as he wants to +marry you." + +"Thin why don't he till me so?" sobbed Mary, burying her burning face +in her hands. + +"Has he said nothing to you?" gravely inquired the priest. + +"No, he hasn't and I don't belave he intinds to," answered Mary, wiping +her eyes and trying to be composed. "There is something about Jimmy +that is holding him back. Mrs. Dolan thought you'd help me." + +"What do you want me to do, Mary?" asked Father Michael. + +"Two things," answered Mary promptly. "I want you to tell me what Jimmy +confissed to you before he died, and then I want you to talk to Dannie +and show him that he is free from any promise that Jimmy might have got +out of him. Will you?" + +"A dying confession--" began the priest. + +"Yes, but I know--" broke in Mary. "I saw them fight, and I heard Jimmy +till Dannie that he'd lied to him to separate us, but he turned right +around and took it back and I knew Dannie belaved him thin; but he +can't after Jimmy confissed it again to both of you." + +"What do you mean by 'saw them fight?'" Father Michael was leaning +toward Mary anxiously. + +Mary told him. + +"Then that is the explanation to the whole thing," said the priest. +"Dannie did believe Jimmy when he took it back, and he died before he +could repeat to Dannie what he had told me. And I have had the feeling +that Dannie thought himself in a way to blame for Jimmy's death." + +"He was not! Oh, he was not!" cried Mary Malone. "Didn't I live there +with them all those years? Dannie always was good as gold to Jimmy. It +was shameful the way Jimmy imposed on him, and spint his money, and +took me from him. It was shameful! Shameful!" + +"Be calm! Be calm!" cautioned Father Michael. "I agree with you. I am +only trying to arrive at Dannie's point of view. He well might feel +that he was responsible, if after humoring Jimmy like a child all his +life, he at last lost his temper and dealt with him as if he were a +man. If that is the case, he is of honor so fine, that he would +hesitate to speak to you, no matter what he suffered. And then it is +clear to me that he does not understand how Jimmy separated you in the +first place." + +"And lied me into marrying him, whin I told him over and over how I +loved Dannie. Jimmy Malone took iverything I had to give, and he left +me alone for fiftane years, with my three little dead babies, that died +because I'd no heart to desire life for thim, and he took my youth, and +he took my womanhood, and he took my man--" Mary arose in primitive +rage. "You naden't bother!" she said. "I'm going straight to Dannie +meself." + +"Don't!" said Father Michael softly. "Don't do that, Mary! It isn't the +accepted way. There is a better! Let him come to you." + +"But he won't come! He don't know! He's in Jimmy's grip tighter in +death than he was in life." Mary began to sob again. + +"He will come," said Father Michael. "Be calm! Wait a little, my child. +After all these years, don't spoil a love that has been almost +unequaled in holiness and beauty, by anger at the dead. Let me go to +Dannie. We are good friends. I can tell him Jimmy made a confession to +me, that he was trying to repeat to him, when punishment, far more +awful than anything you have suffered, overtook him. Always remember, +Mary, he died unshriven!" Mary began to shiver. "Your suffering is +over," continued the priest. "You have many good years yet that you may +spend with Dannie; God will give you living children, I am sure. Think +of the years Jimmy's secret has hounded and driven him! Think of the +penalty he must pay before he gets a glimpse of paradise, if he be not +eternally lost!" + +"I have!" exclaimed Mary. "And it is nothing to the fact that he took +Dannie from me, and yet kept him in my home while he possessed me +himsilf for years. May he burn----" + +"Mary! Let that suffice!" cried the priest. "He will! The question now +is, shall I go to Dannie?" + +"Will you till him just what Jimmy told you? Will you till him that I +have loved him always?" + +"Yes," said Father Michael. + +"Will you go now?" + +"I cannot! I have work. I will come early in the morning." + +"You will till him ivirything?" she repeated. + +"I will," promised Father Michael. + +Mary went back to Mrs. Dolan's comforted. She was anxious to return +home at once, but at last consented to spend the day. Now that she was +sure Dannie did not know the truth, her heart warmed toward him. She +was anxious to comfort and help him in the long struggle which she saw +that he must have endured. By late afternoon she could bear it no +longer and started back to Rainbow Bottom in time to prepare supper. + +For the first hour after Mary had gone Dannie whistled to keep up his +courage. By the second he had no courage to keep. By the third he was +indulging in the worst fit of despondency he ever had known. He had +told her to stay a week. A week! It would be an eternity! There alone +again! Could he bear it? He got through to mid-afternoon some way, and +then in jealous fear and foreboding he became almost frantic. One way +or the other, this thing must be settled. Fiercer raged the storm +within him and at last toward evening it became unendurable. + +At its height the curling smoke from the chimney told him that Mary had +come home. An unreasoning joy seized him. He went to the barn and +listened. He could hear her moving about preparing supper. As he +watched she came to the well for water and before she returned to the +cabin she stood looking over the fields as if trying to locate him. +Dannie's blood ran hotly and his pulses were leaping. "Go to her! Go to +her now!" demanded passion, struggling to break leash. "You killed +Jimmy! You murdered your friend!" cried conscience, with unyielding +insistence. Poor Dannie gave one last glance at Mary, and then turned, +and for the second time he ran from her as if pursued by demons. But +this time he went straight to Five Mile Hill, and the grave of Jimmy +Malone. + +He sat down on it, and within a few feet of Jimmy's bones, Dannie took +his tired head in his hands, and tried to think, and for the life of +him, he could think but two things. That he had killed Jimmy, and that +to live longer without Mary would kill him. Hour after hour he fought +with his lifelong love for Jimmy and his lifelong love for Mary. Night +came on, the frost bit, the wind chilled, and the little brown owls +screeched among the gravestones, and Dannie battled on. Morning came, +the sun arose, and shone on Dannie, sitting numb with drawn face and +bleeding heart. + +Mary prepared a fine supper the night before, and patiently waited, and +when Dannie did not come, she concluded that he had gone to town, +without knowing that she had returned. Tilly grew sleepy, so she put +the child to bed, and presently she went herself. Father Michael would +make everything right in the morning. But in the morning Dannie was not +there, and had not been. Mary became alarmed. She was very nervous by +the time Father Michael arrived. He decided to go to the nearest +neighbor, and ask when Dannie had been seen last. As he turned from the +lane into the road a man of that neighborhood was passing on his wagon, +and the priest hailed him, and asked if he knew where Dannie Macnoun +was. + +"Back in Five Mile Hill, a man with his head on his knees, is a-settin' +on the grave of Jimmy Malone, and I allow that would be Dannie Macnoun, +the damn fool!" he said. + +Father Michael went back to the cabin, and told Mary he had learned +where Dannie was, and to have no uneasiness, and he would go to see him +immediately. + +"And first of all you'll tell him how Jimmy lied to him?" + +"I will!" said the priest. + +He entered the cemetery, and walked slowly to the grave of Jimmy +Malone. Dannie lifted his head, and stared at him. + +"I saw you," said Father Michael, "and I came in to speak with you." He +took Dannie's hand. "You are here at this hour to my surprise." + +"I dinna know that ye should be surprised at my comin' to sit by Jimmy +at ony time," coldly replied Dannie. "He was my only friend in life, +and another mon so fine I'll never know. I often come here." + +The priest shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and then he +sat down on a grave near Dannie. "For a year I have been waiting to +talk with you," he said. + +Dannie wiped his face, and lifting his hat, ran his fingers through his +hair, as if to arouse himself. His eyes were dull and listless. "I am +afraid I am no fit to talk sensibly," he said. "I am much troubled. +Some other time----" + +"Could you tell me your trouble?" asked Father Michael. + +Dannie shook his head. + +"I have known Mary Malone all her life," said the priest softly, "and +been her confessor. I have known Jimmy Malone all his life, and heard +his dying confession. I know what it was he was trying to tell you when +he died. Think again!" + +Dannie Macnoun stood up. He looked at the priest intently. "Did ye come +here purposely to find me?" + +"Yes." + +"What do ye want?" + +"To clear your mind of all trouble, and fill your heart with love, and +great peace, and rest. Our Heavenly Father knows that you need peace of +heart, and rest, Dannie." + +"To fill my heart wi' peace, ye will have to prove to me that I'm no +responsible fra the death of Jimmy Malone; and to give it rest, ye will +have to prove to me that I'm free to marry his wife. Ye can do neither +of those things." + +"I can do both," said the priest calmly. "My son, that is what I came +to do." + +Dannie's face grew whiter and whiter, as the blood receded, and his big +hands gripped at his sides. + +"Aye, but ye canna!" he cried desperately. "Ye canna!" + +"I can," said the priest. "Listen to me! Did Jimmy get anything at all +said to you?" + +"He said, 'Mary,' then he choked on the next word, then he gasped out +'yours,' and it was over." + +"Have you any idea what he was trying to tell you?" + +"Na!" answered Dannie. "He was mortal sick, and half delirious, and I +paid little heed. If he lived, he would tell me when he was better. If +he died, nothing mattered, fra I was responsible, and better friend mon +never had. There was nothing on earth Jimmy would na have done for me. +He was so big hearted, so generous! My God, how I have missed him! How +I have missed him!" + +"Your faith in Jimmy is strong," ventured the bewildered priest, for he +did not see his way. + +Dannie lifted his head. The sunshine was warming him, and his thoughts +were beginning to clear. + +"My faith in Jimmy Malone is so strong," he said, "that if I lost it, I +never should trust another living mon. He had his faults to others, I +admit that, but he never had ony to me. He was my friend, and above my +life I loved him. I wad gladly have died to save him." + +"And yet you say you are responsible for his death!" + +"Let me tell ye!" cried Dannie eagerly, and began on the story the +priest wanted to hear from him. As he finished Father Michael's face +lighted. + +"What folly!" he said, "that a man of your intelligence should torture +yourself with the thought of responsibility in a case like that. Any +one would have claimed the fish in those circumstances. Priest that I +am, I would have had it, even if I fought for it. Any man would! And as +for what followed, it was bound to come! He was a tortured man, and a +broken one. If he had not lain out that night, he would a few nights +later. It was not in your power to save him. No man can be saved from +himself, Dannie. Did what he said make no impression on you?" + +"Enough that I would have killed him with my naked hands if he had na +taken it back. Of course he had to retract! If I believed that of +Jimmy, after the life we lived together, I would curse God and mon, and +break fra the woods, and live and dee there alone." + +"Then what was he trying to tell you when he died?" asked the +bewildered priest. + +"To take care of Mary, I judge." + +"Not to marry her; and take her for your own?" + +Dannie began to tremble. + +"Remember, I talked with him first," said Father Michael, "and what he +confessed to me, he knew was final. He died before he could talk to +you, but I think it is time to tell you what he wanted to say. +He--he--was trying--trying to tell you, that there was nothing but love +in his heart for you. That he did not in any way blame you. That--that +Mary was yours. That you were free to take her. That----" + +"What!" cried Dannie wildly. "Are ye sure? Oh, my God!" + +"Perfectly sure!" answered Father Michael. "Jimmy knew how long and +faithfully you had loved Mary, and she had loved you----" + +"Mary had loved me? Carefu', mon! Are ye sure?" + +"I know," said Father Michael convincingly. "I give you my priestly +word, I know, and Jimmy knew, and was altogether willing. He loved you +deeply, as he could love any one, Dannie, and he blamed you for nothing +at all. The only thing that would have brought Jimmy any comfort in +dying, was to know that you would end your life with Mary, and not hate +his memory." + +"Hate!" cried Dannie. "Hate! Father Michael, if ye have come to tell me +that Jimmy na held me responsible fra his death, and was willing fra me +to have Mary, your face looks like the face of God to me!" Dannie +gripped the priest's hand. "Are ye sure? Are ye sure, mon?" He almost +lifted Father Michael from the ground. + +"I tell you, I know! Go and be happy!" + +"Some ither day I will try to thank ye," said Dannie, turning away. +"Noo, I'm in a little of a hurry." He was half way to the gate when he +turned back. "Does Mary know this?" he asked. + +"She does," said the priest. "You are one good man, Dannie, go and be +happy, and may the blessing of God go with you." + +Dannie lifted his hat. + +"And Jimmy, too," he said, "put Jimmy in, Father Michael." + +"May the peace of God rest the troubled soul of Jimmy Malone," said +Father Michael, and not being a Catholic, Dannie did not know that from +the blessing for which he asked. + +He hurried away with the brightness of dawn on his lined face, which +looked almost boyish under his whitening hair. + +Mary Malone was at the window, and turmoil and bitterness were +beginning to burn in her heart again. Maybe the priest had not found +Dannie. Maybe he was not coming. Maybe a thousand things. Then he WAS +coming. Coming straight and sure. Coming across the fields, and leaping +fences at a bound. Coming with such speed and force as comes the strong +man, fifteen years denied. Mary's heart began to jar, and thump, and +waves of happiness surged over her. And then she saw that look of dawn, +of serene delight on the face of the man, and she stood aghast. Dannie +threw wide the door, and crossed her threshold with outstretched arms. + +"Is it true?" he panted. "That thing Father Michael told me, is it +true? Will ye be mine, Mary Malone? At last will you be mine? Oh, my +girl, is the beautiful thing that the priest told me true?" + +"THE BEAUTIFUL THING THAT THE PRIEST TOLD HIM!" + +Mary Malone swung a chair before her, and stepped back. "Wait!" she +cried sharply. "There must be some mistake. Till me ixactly what Father +Michael told you?" + +"He told me that Jimmy na held me responsible fra his death. That he +loved me when he died. That he was willing I should have ye! Oh, Mary, +wasna that splendid of him. Wasna he a grand mon? Mary, come to me. Say +that it's true! Tell me, if ye love me." + +Mary Malone stared wide-eyed at Dannie, and gasped for breath. + +Dannie came closer. At last he had found his tongue. "Fra the love of +mercy, if ye are comin' to me, come noo, Mary" he begged. "My arms will +split if they dinna get round ye soon, dear. Jimmy told ye fra me, +sixteen years ago, how I loved ye, and he told me when he came back how +sorry ye were fra me, and he--he almost cried when he told me. I never +saw a mon feel so. Grand old Jimmy! No other mon like him!" + +Mary drew back in desperation. + +"You see here, Dannie Micnoun!" she screamed. "You see here----" + +"I do," broke in Dannie. "I'm lookin'! All I ever saw, or see now, or +shall see till I dee is 'here,' when 'here' is ye, Mary Malone. Oh! If +a woman ever could understand what passion means to a mon! If ye knew +what I have suffered through all these years, you'd end it, Mary +Malone." + +Mary gave the chair a shove. "Come here, Dannie," she said. Dannie +cleared the space between them. Mary set her hands against his breast. +"One minute," she panted. "Just one! I have loved you all me life, me +man. I niver loved any one but you. I niver wanted any one but you. I +niver hoped for any Hivin better than I knew I'd find in your arms. +There was a mistake. There was an awful mistake, when I married Jimmy. +I'm not tillin' you now, and I niver will, but you must realize that! +Do you understand me?" + +"Hardly," breathed Dannie. "Hardly!" + +"Will, you can take your time if you want to think it out, because +that's all I'll iver till you. There was a horrible mistake. It was YOU +I loved, and wanted to marry. Now bend down to me, Dannie Micnoun, +because I'm going to take your head on me breast and kiss your dear +face until I'm tired," said Mary Malone. + +An hour later Father Michael came leisurely down the lane, and the +peace of God was with him. + +A radiant Mary went out to meet him. + +"You didn't till him!" she cried accusingly. "You didn't till him!" + +The priest laid a hand on her head. + +"Mary, the greatest thing in the whole world is self-sacrifice," he +said. "The pot at the foot of the rainbow is just now running over with +the pure gold of perfect contentment. But had you and I done such a +dreadful thing as to destroy the confidence of a good man in his +friend, your heart never could know such joy as it now knows in this +sacrifice of yours; and no such blessed, shining light could illumine +your face. That is what I wanted to see. I said to myself as I came +along, 'She will try, but she will learn, as I did, that she cannot +look in his eyes and undeceive him. And when she becomes reconciled, +her face will be so good to see.' And it is. You did not tell him +either, Mary Malone!" + + + + + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's At the Foot of the Rainbow, by Gene Stratton-Porter + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW *** + +***** This file should be named 532.txt or 532.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/5/3/532/ + + + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. Special rules, +set forth in the General Terms of Use part of this license, apply to +copying and distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works to +protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm concept and trademark. 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