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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Madness of Philip - and Other Tales of Childhood - -Author: Josephine Dodge Daskam - -Illustrator: F. Y. Cory - -Release Date: July 21, 2017 [EBook #55161] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MADNESS OF PHILIP *** - - - - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<div class='tnotes covernote'> - -<p class='c000'><strong>Transcriber's Note:</strong></p> - -<p class='c000'>The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.</p> - -</div> - -<div> - <h1 class='c001'>THE MADNESS OF PHILIP<br /> <span class='xlarge'><em>AND OTHER TALES OF CHILDHOOD</em></span></h1> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><span class='xlarge'><em>BY</em></span></div> - <div><span class='xlarge'><span class='sc'>Josephine Dodge Daskam</span></span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id001'> -<img src='images/i_003.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><em>Illustrated by F. Y. Cory</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><span class='sc'>McClure, Phillips & Co.</span></div> - <div><span class='sc'>New York</span></div> - <div>1902</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div><span class='sc'>Copyright, 1902, by</span></div> - <div>McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO.</div> - <div class='c004'>1901, by Harper & Bros.</div> - <div>1900, 1901 and 1902, by S. S. McClure Co.</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><em>Published, March, 1902</em></div> - <div class='c004'><span class='sc'>Second Impression</span></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div><em>To my Father</em></div> - <div><em>kindest of many kind critics</em></div> - <div><em>these stories are</em></div> - <div><em>dedicated</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>CONTENTS</h2> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<table class='table0' summary='CONTENTS'> - <tr> - <th class='c006'></th> - <th class='c007'>PAGE</th> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>The Madness of Philip</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_1'>1</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>A Study in Piracy</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_31'>31</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Bobbert’s Merry Christmas</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_69'>69</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>The Heart of a Child</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_95'>95</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Ardelia in Arcady</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_119'>119</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>Edgar, the Choir Boy Uncelestial</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_153'>153</a></td> - </tr> - <tr><td> </td></tr> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><span class='sc'>The Little God and Dicky</span></td> - <td class='c008'><a href='#Page_191'>191</a></td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_1'>1</span> - <h2 class='c005'>THE MADNESS OF PHILIP</h2> -</div> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_011.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Checking her vivid denunciations by a judicious application of the pillow.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>His mother, being a woman of perception, -realized early that something was -wrong. Even before breakfast she -found Philip trying to put his sister into the -bolster case, checking her vivid denunciations by -a judicious application of the pillow. After -breakfast it was impossible -to get him -ready in time, as -his rubbers had -been hidden by a -revengeful sister, -and the bus was -kept waiting fully -five minutes, to the -irritation of the -driver, who made -up the lost interval -by a rapid pace. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_2'>2</span>This jolted the children about, and frightened the -youngest ones, so that they arrived at the kindergarten -bumped and breathless, and only too disposed -to take offense at the first opportunity. This -opportunity Philip supplied. As they swarmed -out of the bus he irritated Joseph Zukoffsky by a -flat contradiction of his pleased statement that he -was to lead the line into the house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, no, you ain’t!” said Philip.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Joseph stared and reiterated his assertion -Philip again denied it. He did nothing to prevent -Joseph from assuming the head of the line, -but his tone was most exasperating, and Joseph -sat down on the lowest step of the bus and -burst into angry tears—he was not a person of -strong character.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Some of the more sympathetic children joined -their tears to his, and the others disputed violently -if vaguely; they lacked a clear idea of the -difficulty, but that fact did not prevent eager -partisanship. Two perplexed teachers quieted -the outbreak and marshaled a wavering line, one -innocently upholding Philip to the disgusted -<span class='pageno' id='Page_3'>3</span>group, “because he walks along so quietly,” the -other supporting Joseph, whose shoulders heaved -convulsively as he burst out into irregular and -startling sobs. It was felt that the day had begun -inauspiciously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They sat down on the hall floor and began to -pull off their rubbers and mufflers. As Philip’s -eye fell to the level of his feet a disagreeable association -stirred his thoughts, and in a moment -it had taken definite form: his rubbers had been -stolen and hidden! His under lip crept slowly -out; a distinctly dangerous expression grew in -his eyes; he looked balefully about him. Marantha -Judd pirouetted across his field of vision, -vainglorious in a new plaid apron with impracticable -pockets. Her pigtails bobbed behind her. -She had just placed her diminutive rubbers -neatly parallel, and was attaching the one to the -other with a tight little clothes-pin provided for -the purpose.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_4'>4</span> -<img src='images/i_014.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Tore off the clothes-pin with a jerk.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Casually, and as if unconscious that Marantha -was curiosity incarnate, Philip took his own -clothes-pin and adjusted it to his nose. It gave -him an odd and, to Marantha, a distinguished -appearance, and she inquired of him if the sensations -he experienced were pleasurable. His answer -expressed unconditional affirmation, and unclasping -her clothes-pin Marantha snapped it -vigorously over her own tip-tilted little feature. -A sharp and uncompromising tweak was the -result, and Marantha, shrieking, tore off the -clothes-pin with a jerk that sent little Richard -Willetts reeling against his neighbor. Out of -the confusion—Richard was a timorous creature, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_5'>5</span>and fully convinced that the entire kindergarten -meditated continual assault upon his small person—rose -the chiding voice of Marantha:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are a bad, <em>bad</em> boy, Philup, you are!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>To her tangled accusations the bewildered -teacher paid scant heed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I can’t see why all you little children find so -much fault with Philip,” she said reprovingly. -“What if he did put his clothes-pin on his nose? -It was a foolish thing to do, but why need you -do it? <em>You</em> have made more trouble than he, -Marantha, for you frightened little Richard!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Marantha’s desperation was dreadful to witness. -She realized that her vocabulary was -hopelessly inadequate to her situation: she knew -herself unable to present her case effectively, but -she felt that she was the victim of a glaring injustice. -Her chin quivered, she sank upon the -stairs, and her tears were even as the tears of -Joseph Zukoffsky.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The youngest assistant now appeared on the -scene.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Miss Hunt wants to know why you’re so late -<span class='pageno' id='Page_6'>6</span>with them,” she inquired. “She hopes nothing’s -the matter. Mrs. R. B. M. Smith is here to-day -to visit the primary schools and kindergartens, -and——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, goodness!” the attempted consolation -of Marantha ceased abruptly. “I can’t <em>bear</em> that -woman! She’s always read Stanley Hall’s <em>last</em> -article that proves that what he said before was -wrong! Come along, Marantha, and don’t be a -foolish little girl any longer. We shall be late -for the morning exercise.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Upstairs a large circle was forming under the -critical scrutiny of a short, stout woman with -crinkly, gray hair. They took their places, -Marantha pink-nosed and mutinous, Joseph not -yet recovered from a distressing tendency to -burst out into gulping sobs—he was naturally -pessimistic and treasured his grievances indefinitely. -Philip’s eyes were fixed upon the floor.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now what shall we sing?” inquired the principal -briskly. “I think we will let Joseph -choose, because he doesn’t look very happy this -bright morning. Perhaps we can cheer him up.”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_7'>7</span> -<img src='images/i_017.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Marantha ... upheld Joseph with all her powers of heart and voice.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>In a husky voice Joseph suggested “My heart -is God’s little garden.” In reply to Miss Hunt’s -opening question Eddy Brown had proposed -“Happy greeting to the rain,” a sufficiently -maudlin request, as there was absolutely no indication -of that climatic condition, past, present, or -future. Eddy possessed the not unusual combination -of a weak mind and a strong voice, and -though the piano prelude was that of Joseph’s -choice, the effect of a voice near him starting the -well-known air of his own suggestion was overwhelming, -and Eddy began shouting -it lustily. Marantha, whose -susceptibilities were, like those of -others of her sex, distinctly sharpened -<span class='pageno' id='Page_8'>8</span>by suffering, knew well enough who was responsible -for the rival chorus, and upheld Joseph -with all her powers of heart and voice. The tunes -in question were, like many of the kindergarten -repertoire, somewhat similar, and a few seconds of -chaotic discords amazed Mrs. R. B. M. Smith and -vexed the teachers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Now see on what slight thread events are -strung! What she innocently supposed to be a -misunderstanding of the song selected, influenced -one of the teachers to announce the subsequent -songs herself. This led Mrs. R. B. M. Smith to -suppose that the teacher was selecting all the -songs, thus depriving the children of the divine, -not to say formative, privilege of individual -choice. This opinion, in turn, led her to beckon -one of the assistants to her and describe her own -system of awakening and continuing, by a ceaseless -series of questions, the interested coöperation -of the child’s intelligence. In order to do this, -she added, the subjects of song and story must be -more simple than was possible if complex historical -incidents were used. She indicated her willingness -<span class='pageno' id='Page_9'>9</span>to relate to the children a model story of -this order, calling the teachers’ attention in advance -to the almost incredible certainty that -would characterize the children’s anticipation of -the events thus judiciously and psychologically -selected.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The arm-chairs shortly to contain so much accurate -anticipation were ranged neatly on both -sides of the long room. Some malefic influence -caused the officiating teacher to appoint Philip to -lead one-half of the circle to the chairs and Marantha -the other. More than one visitor had -been wont to remark the unanimity with which -this exercise was performed. Each child grasped -his little chair by the arms, and holding it before -him, carried it to its appointed place in the circle. -So well had they learned this manœuver that the -piano chords were sufficient monitors, and the -three teachers, having seen the line safely started, -gathered around their visitor to hear more of the -theory.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_10'>10</span> -<img src='images/i_020.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>The effect was inexpressibly indiscreet.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Under what obsession Philip labored, with what -malignant power he had made pact, is unknown. -He had no appearance of planning darkly: his -actions seemed the result of instantaneous inspiration. -Standing -before his chair -as if about to -take his seat, -he subsided partially; then, -grasping the arms, half bent -over, he waddled toward the -circle. This natural method of transportation -commended itself in a twinkling to his line, and -without the slightest disturbance or hesitation, -they imitated him exactly. Experience should -have taught Marantha the futility of following -his example, but she was of an age when experience -appeals but slightly; and determined to -excel him, at the risk of falling at every step -on her already injured nose, she bent over so far -that the legs of her chair pointed almost directly -upward. Her line followed her, and waddling, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_11'>11</span>shuffling, gnome-like, they made for the circle. -It had all the effect of a carefully inculcated drill, -and to Mrs. R. B. M. Smith the effect was inexpressibly -indiscreet.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Is it possible that you—” she inquired, -pointing to the advancing children, many of -whom promptly fell over backward under the -sudden onslaught of the horrified teachers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Hunt colored angrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Something is the matter with the school to-day,” -she said sharply. “I never knew them to -behave so in my life! I can’t see what’s come -over them! They <em>always</em> carry their chairs in -front of them.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should hope so,” responded the visitor -placidly, “nothing could be worse for them than -that angle.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“At least they’re safe now,” the youngest assistant -whispered to her fellow-teacher, as the -children sat decorously attentive in their chairs, -their faces turned curiously toward the strange -lady with the fascinating plumes in her bonnet.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“——Nothing like animals to bring out the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_12'>12</span>protective instinct—feebler dependent on the -stronger,” she concluded rapidly, and then addressed -the objects of these theories.</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_022.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Sneezed loudly and unexpectedly.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, children, I’m going to tell you a nice -story—you all like stories, I’m sure.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At just that moment little Richard Willetts -sneezed loudly and unexpectedly to all, himself -included, with the result that his ever-ready suspicion -fixed upon his neighbor, Andrew Halloran, -as the direct cause of the convulsion. Andrew’s -well-meant efforts to detach from Richard’s vest -the pocket-handkerchief securely -fastened thereto by a large, black -safety-pin strengthened the latter’s -conviction of intended assault -and battery, and he squirmed -out of the circle and made a dash -for the hall—the first stage in -an evident homeward expedition.</p> - -<p class='c000'>This broke in upon the story, -and even when it got under way -again there was an atmosphere -<span class='pageno' id='Page_13'>13</span>of excitement quite unexplained by the tale -itself.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_023.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Yesterday, children, as I came out of my yard, what do you think I saw?</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Yesterday, children, as I came out of my -yard, <em>what</em> do you think I saw?” The elaborately -concealed surprise in store was so obvious -that Marantha rose to the occasion and suggested:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“An el’phunt!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, no! Why should I see an elephant -in my yard? It wasn’t <em>nearly</em> so big as that—it -was a <em>little</em> thing!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A fish!” ventured Eddy Brown, whose eye -fell upon the aquarium in the corner. The <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">raconteuse</span></i> -smiled patiently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, no! How could a fish, a live fish, get -in my front yard?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A dead fish?” persisted Eddy, who was never -known to relinquish voluntarily an idea.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_14'>14</span>“It was a little kitten,” said the story-teller, -decidedly. “A little white kitten. She was -standing right near a great big puddle of water. -And what else do you think I saw?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Another kitten?” suggested Marantha conservatively.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, a big Newfoundland dog. He saw the -little kitten near the water. Now cats don’t like -the water, do they? They don’t like a wet place. -What do they like?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mice!” said Joseph Zukoffsky abruptly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, yes, they do; but there were no mice -in my yard. I’m sure you know what I mean. -If they don’t like <em>water</em>, what do they like?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Milk!” cried Sarah Fuller confidently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“They like a dry place,” said Mrs. R. B. M. -Smith.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now what do you suppose the dog did?” -It may be that successive failures had disheartened -the listeners; it may be that the very range presented -alike to the dog and them for choice dazzled -their imaginations. At any rate they made no -answer.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_15'>15</span>“Nobody knows what the dog did?” repeated -the story-teller encouragingly. “What would -you do if you saw a little white kitten like that?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Again a silence. Then Philip remarked gloomily:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’d pull its tail.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Even this might have been passed over had -not the youngest assistant, who had not yet lost -her sense of humor, giggled convulsively. This, -though unnoticed by the visitor, was plainly observed -by fully half the children, with the result -that when Mrs. R. B. M. Smith inquired pathetically,</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And what do the rest of you think? I -hope <em>you</em> are not so cruel as that little boy!” a -jealous desire to share Philip’s success prompted -the quick response:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>I’d</em> pull it, too!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Hunt was oblivious to the story, which -finished somehow, the dog having done little, and -the kitten, if anything, less. She was lost in a -miserable wonder what was the matter with them? -Alas! she could not know that the root of all -<span class='pageno' id='Page_16'>16</span>the evil was planted in the breast of Philip, the -demon-ridden. His slightest effort was blessed -with a success beyond his hopes. He had but to -raise his finger, and his mates rallied all unconsciously -to his support. Nor did he require -thought; on the instant diabolical inspiration -seized him, and his conception materialized almost -before he had grasped it himself. The very -children of light were made to minister unto him, -as in the case of his next achievement.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With a feeling of absolute safety the teacher -called upon Eddy Brown to lead the waiting circle -in a game. Eddy was one of the stand-bys of the -kindergarten. He was a little old for it, but -being incapable of promotion owing to his inability -to grasp the rudiments of primary work, he -continued to adorn his present sphere. It would -almost seem that Fröbel had Eddy Brown in -mind in elaborating his educational schemes, for -his development, according to kindergarten standards, -was so absolutely normal as to verge on the -extraordinary. He was never <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ennuyé</span></i>, never cross, -never disobedient. He never anticipated; he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_17'>17</span>never saw what you meant before you said it; he -never upset the system by inventing anything -whatsoever—the vice of the too active-minded. -He was perennially surprised at the climaxes of -the stories, passionately interested in the games; -and clay balls and braided straw represented his -wildest dissipations. He sat in his chair till he -was told to rise, and remained standing till he -was urged to take his seat. His voice, if somewhat -off the key, was always prominent in song; -his feet, if not always in time, were always in -evidence when it was a question of marching.</p> - -<p class='c000'>To-day he took the middle of the ring and -beamed cheerfully on them all as they swayed -back and forth and sang to him:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>Now</em> Eddie <em>if you’ll</em> teach <em>us</em></div> - <div class='line in2'><em>A</em> new <em>game to</em> play,</div> - <div class='line'><em>We’ll</em> watch <em>you and</em> try <em>to</em></div> - <div class='line in2'><em>Do</em> just <em>as you</em> say!</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>There was a slight poetic exaggeration in the -idea of Eddy Brown’s being able to teach anybody -anything new, but this was felt by no one -but the youngest assistant, who, recalling his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_18'>18</span>regular programme upon such -occasions, smiled somewhat sardonically.</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_028.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Tripping lightly as we go.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>As she had expected, Eddy -inclined to play “Tripping -lightly as we go.” His conception -of the process implied in -the song was a laborious jumping -up on one toe and down on -the other. This exercise he -would keep up till the crack of -doom if undiverted from it. -When induced to stop, he signalled to Joseph -Zukoffsky to take his place. Joseph, on being -tunefully implored to produce something new in -the way of a game, declared for “Did you ever -see a laddie?” and the ring started in blithely:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>Did you</em> ever <em>see a</em> laddie, <em>a</em> laddie, <em>a</em> laddie;</div> - <div class='line'><em>Did you</em> ever <em>see a</em> laddie, <em>do</em> this <em>way or</em> that?</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>After some seconds of consideration Joseph -solemnly lifted his left heel from the floor and replaced -it. This enthralling diversion occupied -<span class='pageno' id='Page_19'>19</span>the ring for a moment, and then Marantha was -summoned. Though plump as a partridge, Marantha -was born for the ballet.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did you <em>ever</em> see a <em>lassie</em>, a <em>lassie</em>, a <em>lassie</em>,” -sang the children as Marantha, arching her little -instep and pointing her toe deliciously, kicked -out to one side, almost as high as her waist, with -a rhythmical precision good to see.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_029.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Marantha was born for the ballet</em>.”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Her eyes sought Philip’s, and with a coy little -smile, she took his hand to lead him to the centre. -Too many poets and novelists have analyzed the -inevitable longing of woman to allure him who -scorns her charms, the pathetic passion to attract -<span class='pageno' id='Page_20'>20</span>where she has been brutally repulsed, to make it -necessary for me to discuss her attempted endearments -as Philip sulkily flung away her hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Just then somebody wanted a drink; and as -one teacher led the thirsty child away, and the -other turned her head to attract the pianist’s attention -and propose a new tune, Philip, who had -not begun to set his model till the last moment, -suddenly lifted his thumb to his nose, contracting -and expanding his fingers in strict time.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her rapid glance had shown the teacher a ring -of children apparently tapping their noses, and -only a horrified snort from Mrs. R. B. M. Smith -and a murmured “<em>Heavens!</em>” from the returning -assistant called her attention to the circle of children -gravely assuming an attitude prescribed nowhere -in Fröbel, nor, indeed, in any system, social -or Delsartean.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Philip, now utterly abandoned to the spirit of -successful deviltry that intoxicated him beyond -control, danced up and down, inviting one, two, -and three out of the demoralized ring to share -his orgy. They pranced about wildly, shouting -<span class='pageno' id='Page_21'>21</span>snatches of song, pushing each other, deaf to -the shocked remonstrance of the teachers, while -in their midst, -flushed and -screaming, Philip -and Marantha, -satyr and bacchante, -leaped -high in the air.</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_031.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Leaped high in the air.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>In the door -there suddenly -appeared a woman -in a checked -apron with a shawl over her head. As the teachers -pulled the ring-leaders apart, and the pianist, -to a shocked murmur of remonstrance, played -Träumerei with the soft pedal down, while a circle -of flushed and palpitating “little birds” rocked -themselves to sleep with occasional reminiscent -giggles and twitters, the woman in the door advanced -to a little bird whose chief interest, as he -ruffled his gingham plumage, seemed to be to -evade an obviously maternal call.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_22'>22</span>“Philup, ye bad boy, where’s the carvin’ knife?” -she said angrily. This was too much for the -youngest assistant, who went off into something -very like hysteria, while the principal tried to -explain the inevitable bad effect of shocks and -slaps upon the delicate organization of the child.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“An’ it’s beggin’ y’r pardon, Miss, but it’s a -rale imp o’ Satan he’ll be some days, like, an’ I -see it in his eye this marnin’! An imp o’ Satan!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The principal smiled deprecatingly. “We -don’t like to hear a child called that,” she said, -gently. “Philip has not been so good as usual -this morning——”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_032.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Philup, ye bad boy, where’s the carvin’ knife?</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Ye may say so!” interrupted Philip’s parent. -“An’ whin it’s that way -he is, it’s little good soft -words’ll do, Miss. He -gets it from his father. -An’ me not able to cut -the mate fer his father’s -<span class='pageno' id='Page_23'>23</span>dinner! He’s a sly young one! It’s a good -spankin’ he needs, Miss—an’ he’ll get it, too!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Take her into the hall with him. Tell her -not to spank him. Tell her we’ll punish him. -We understand how to make him sorry,” murmured -the principal to the youngest assistant, as -she turned to quiet the circle.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The youngest assistant conducted Philip’s -mother, and dragged Philip to the hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, Philip, tell your mother where you hid -the carving knife,” she said invitingly. Philip -made a break for the outer door. He was caught -and reasoned with. Incidentally his naughtiness -in leading the game was mentioned. His mother -set her jaw and loosened her shawl.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“An’ that’s what ye did, ye bad boy? What -did I say the last time I see ye at it? Dirty -thrick! You come here to me, sir!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Philip kicked violently and pinched the youngest -assistant. Her lips assumed the set expression -of the other woman’s. The light of generations -of Philistine mothers kindled in her eye. -As Philip struggled silently but wildly, the voice -<span class='pageno' id='Page_24'>24</span>of Mrs. R. B. M. Smith, high and resonant, -floated through the transom.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And so we never strike a little child, Joseph, -and you must never talk about it. His mother -and Miss Ethel are going to <em>talk</em> with little -Philip, and try to make him see——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Philip ducked under his mother’s arm and almost -gained the door. The youngest assistant -caught him by his apron-string and towed him -back. His mother looked around hastily, noticed -a small door half open, and caught the youngest -assistant’s eye.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Cellar?” she inquired.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The youngest assistant nodded, and as his -mother lifted Philip bodily and made for the little -door, it was opened for her and closed after -her by the only other person in the hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His mother carried Philip to the coal-heap, -and upon it she sat and spanked her son—spanked -him systematically, and after an ancient -method upon which civilization has been able to -make few if any improvements. She had never -read that excellent work, “Child Culture, or</p> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_25'>25</span> -<img src='images/i_035.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>It was opened for her and closed after her.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_26'>26</span>How shall we Train our Mothers?” (R. B. M. -Smith).</p> - -<p class='c000'>Soon she led him in, subdued and remorseful, -the demon expelled, to the principal.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_036.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Spanked him systematically.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“He’ll throuble ye no more, Miss, an’ the carvin’ -knife is underneath th’ bolster av his bed—the -bad ’un that he is!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now that Philip is good again—and you see -<span class='pageno' id='Page_27'>27</span>how quiet he was out in the hall; I told you he -was thinking very hard—we’ll all sing a song to -show how glad we are, and he shall choose it. -What would Philip like to sing?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Philip murmured huskily that his heart was -God’s little garden, and there was more joy over -him than over the two dozen that needed no repentance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But the youngest assistant avoided Mrs. R. B. -M. Smith’s eye, for <em>she</em> had opened the cellar -door!</p> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_037.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Murmured huskily that his heart was God’s little garden.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_31'>31</span> - <h2 class='c005'>A STUDY IN PIRACY</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>It might not have occurred to you to find -the Head Captain terrible to look upon, -had you seen him first without his uniform. -There seems to be something essentially pacific -in the effect of a broad turn-over gingham collar, -a blue neck-ribbon, and a wide straw hat; and -you might be pardoned for thinking him a -rather mild person. But could you have encountered -him in a black cambric mask with pinked -edges, a broad sash of Turkey red wound tightly -about his waist, and that wide collar <em>turned up</em> -above his ears—the tie conspicuous for its absence—you -might have sung another tune. -His appearance was at such a time nothing short -of menacing.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant was distinctly less impressive. -His sash, though not so long as the Head Captain’s, -was forever coming untied and trailing -behind him, and as he often retreated rapidly, he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_32'>32</span>stumbled and fell over it twice out of three -times. This gave it a draggled and spiritless -look. Moreover, he was not allowed to turn his -collar up except on Saturdays, and the one his -sister had made him from wrapping paper had an -exotic, not to say amateur theatrical, effect that -was far from convincing. The eye-holes in his -mask, too, were much too large—showing, indeed, -the greater part of both cheeks, each of -which was provided with a deep dimple. Seen -in the daytime, he was not—to speak confidentially—very -awesome.</p> - -<p class='c000'>As for the Vicar—well, there were obstacles -in the way of her presenting such an appearance -as she would have liked. In the first place, there -was not enough Turkey red to go evenly round, -and to her disgust she had been obliged to put -up with a scant three-quarters of a yard—not a -wide strip at that. What was by courtesy -called the Vicar’s waist was not far from three-quarters -of a yard in circumference, which fact -compelled her to strain her sash tightly in order -to be able to make even a small hard knot, to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_33'>33</span>say nothing of bows and ends. She had no collar -of any kind—her frocks were gathered into -bands at the neck—and she was not allowed to -imitate the Lieutenant’s; who, though generally -speaking a mush of concession, held out very -strongly for this outward and visible sign of a -presumable inward and spiritual superiority. So -the Vicar, in a wild attempt at masculinity, had -privately borrowed a high linen collar of her uncle. -The shirts in her uncle’s drawer had printed inside -them, “<em>wear a seventeen-and-a-half collar with this -shirt</em>,” so you will not be surprised to learn that -the Vicar occasionally fell into the collar, so to -speak, and found herself most effectually muzzled.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_043.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p><em>The Vicar.</em></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>But the worst was her mask. Her hair came -down in a heavy bang almost to her straight -brown eyebrows; her round, -brown eyes were somewhat shortsighted; -her eye-holes were too -small. In consequence of these -facts, whenever it was desirable -<span class='pageno' id='Page_34'>34</span>or necessary to see an inch before her nose she was -obliged to push the mask up over her bang, when -it waved straight out and up, and looked like some -high priest’s mitre.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her title was due to her uncle, who, to do him -justice, was as innocent of his influence in the -matter as of the loss of his collar.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“When a person isn’t the head of the Pirates, -but is an officer just the same, and -has some say about things, what do you call -that?” she asked him abruptly one day. He -was reading at the time, and not unnaturally -understood her to say “the head of the -parish.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, that’s called a vicar, I suppose you -mean,” he answered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A vicker! Does he have some say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Some <em>say</em>?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes”—impatiently—“some say. He -hasn’t got to do the way the others tell him <em>all</em> -the time, has he?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, dear, no. Don’t you know Mr. Wright, -down at the chapel? He’s called the vicar. He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_35'>35</span>really manages it, I think. Of course it’s not -like being the rector——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Chapel? Is that the only kind of vicker, -like Mr. Wright?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, of course not, silly! There are lots of -different kinds.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh!” and she retired, practising the word. -The others were much impressed by her cleverness -in discovering such a fascinating title. It -savored of <em>wicked</em> and <em>villain</em>, to begin with; -and pursuing the advantage of their previous -ignorance of it, she invented several privileges -and perquisites of the office, which to deny -would argue their lack of information on the -subject, a thing she knew they would never -own.</p> - -<p class='c000'>One of these was the right to summon the -band, when the Head Captain had decided on an -expedition, to any meeting-place she saw fit; -and though in a great many ways her superiors -found her a nuisance, the Lieutenant in particular -objecting in a nagging, useless sort of way to -most of her suggestions, they could not but admit -<span class='pageno' id='Page_36'>36</span>that her selection of mysterious, unsuspected <em>rendezvous</em> -was often brilliantly original.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_046.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Crouching along beneath the perches.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>On one especial occasion, a warm afternoon late -in June, when the houses and yards were all -quiet, and the very dogs lay still in the shade, -the Vicar led them softly to the chicken yard, -mystified them by crawling through a broken -glass frame into the covered roost, crouching -along beneath the perches, and going out again -by the legitimate door without stopping to speak. -This effectually silenced the Lieutenant—the -chicken house seemed an old ruse to him, and he -was sniffing in preparation for the expression of -his opinion. Out across the yard and twice -around an enormous hogshead they walked solemnly. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_37'>37</span>Such a prelude must mean a great -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">finale</span></i>, and the Head Captain felt decidedly curious. -The Vicar paused, made a short detour for -the purpose of getting two empty boxes, piled -them one on the other, and lightly swung herself -into the cask. A loud thud announced her safe -arrival at the bottom, and flushed with delight -at the incomparable secrecy of the thing, the -Head Captain followed her. The Lieutenant, -grumbling as usual, and very nearly hanging -himself in his sash, which caught on the edge, -tumbled after, and standing close together in -the great barrel they grinned consciously at -each other.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain broke the silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are we all here?” he demanded, his voice -waking strange and hollow echoes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes!” replied the Vicar delightedly, bursting -with pride.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aye, aye!” said the Lieutenant with careful -formality.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then listen here!” the Head Captain spoke -in a hoarse whisper. “This’ll be a diff’rent -<span class='pageno' id='Page_38'>38</span>way. This is going to be the real thing. To-day -<em>we’re going to steal</em>!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Vicar gasped. “Really steal?” she whispered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Steal what?” said the Lieutenant with a -non-committal gruffness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t know till I get there,” replied the -Head Captain grandly. “Gold, I suppose, or -treasures or something like that. Of course, if -we’re caught——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant sucked in his breath with a -peculiar whistling noise—one of his most envied -accomplishments—and ran his finger-nail with a -grating sound around his side of the barrel.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Jim Elder stole some apples from my father’s -barn, and my father licked him good,” he suggested.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Apples! Apples!” The Head Captain -frowned terribly, adding with biting irony: “I -s’pose Jim Elder’s a Pirate! I s’pose he wears -a uniform! I s’pose he knows the ways this -gang knows! I s’pose he meets in a barrel like -this! Huh?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_39'>39</span>There was no answer, and the Head Captain -settled his mask more firmly. “Come on!” he -said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They looked at the sharp edge of the hogshead; -it was far away. They looked inquiringly -at the Vicar; she dropped her eyes. Oh, -Woman, in your hours of ease you can devise fine -secret places, you can lead us to them, but can -you bring us back to the outer world and the -reality you seduced us from? There was an embarrassing -pause. The seconds seemed hours. -Would they die in this old, smelly barrel?</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain smiled to himself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I guess you kids never’d git out o’ here unless -I showed you how!” he remarked cheerfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Forward! March!” He took the one step -possible, and scowled because they did not follow -him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t you see?” he said irritably. “When -I say ‘three,’ fall over. Now, one—two—<em>three</em>!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He pushed the Lieutenant and the Vicar -against the side of the barrel, and precipitated -himself against them. The barrel wavered, tottered, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_40'>40</span>and fell with a bang on its side, the subordinate -officers jouncing and gasping, unhappy -cushions for their Head Captain, who crawled -out over them, adjusted his collar, and strode off -across the chicken yard. At the gate they -caught up with him.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_050.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Now, one—two—three!</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Lieutenant!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aye, aye, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Go straight ahead and watch out for us. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_41'>41</span>Whistle three times if the coast is clear. Beware -of—of anything you see!”</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_051.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>A peculiar caution in the slope of his shoulders.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Aye, aye, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant slunk off, a peculiar caution in -the slope of his shoulders and his long, noiseless -stride. He rounded the barn and disappeared -from sight. There was a moment of suspense. -Suddenly he appeared -again, his -hand raised warningly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Sst, sst!</em>” he -hissed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Promptly they -skipped behind the -woodhouse door. In -a moment a man’s -footsteps were audible; -somebody was -swinging by the barn, -whistling as he went. He called out to the cook -as he went by: “Pretty hot, ain’t it? Hey! I -say it’s pretty hot!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_42'>42</span>He was gone. He had absolutely no idea of -their presence. The first of the delicious thrills -had begun. The Lieutenant, from his post behind -the barn door, could have leaned out and -touched him, but he had no idea. From that -moment the scenery changed. The yard was enchanted -ground, the buildings strange and doubtful, -the stretches between haven and haven full of -dangers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Presently three soft whistles broke the silence. -They glided out around the barn, and scaled the -first fence. The Head Captain stopped to caution, -the Lieutenant became hopelessly complicated in -his sash, so the Vicar got over first. Though -plump, she was light on her feet, and had been -known to push the others over in her nervous -haste; she threw herself upon a solid board fence -in an utterly reckless way, striking the top flat on -her stomach, and sliding, slipping down the other -side. Her method, thoroughly ridiculous and -unscientific as it was, invariably succeeded, and -she usually waited a few seconds for them after -picking herself up. When one climbs after the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_43'>43</span>most approved fashion, employing as few separate -motions as possible, making every one tell, the -result of such slippery, panting scrambles as the -Vicar’s is particularly irritating. The success of -the amateur is never pardonable.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_053.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>She threw herself over a solid board fence in an utterly reckless way.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Which way, Head Captain?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>A dusty forefinger indicated the neighboring -barn.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Secret way or door?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Secret way.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They cast hurried glances about them: nobody -<span class='pageno' id='Page_44'>44</span>was in sight. At the corner of the barn the -Lieutenant again performed scout duty, and his -three whistles brought them to a back entrance -hardly noticeable to the chance explorer of stable -yards—a low door into a disused cow-house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Softly they stole in, softly peeped into the -barn. It lay placid and empty, smelling of -leather and hay and horses, with barrels of grain -all about, odd bits of harness, and tins of wagon -grease, wisps of straw, and broken tools scattered -over the floor. Broad bands of sunlight -streaked everything. They crept through a lane -of barrels, and mounted a rickety stair, heart in -mouth. Who might be at the top?</p> - -<p class='c000'>A moment’s pause, and then the Head Captain -nodded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“All right, men,” he breathed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They went carefully through the thick hay -that strewed the upper floor, avoiding the cracks -and pits that loosened boards and decayed planking -offered the unwary foot. With unconscious -directness the Lieutenant turned to the great pile -of hay that usually marked the end of this expedition, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_45'>45</span>but the Head Captain frowned and passed -by the short ladder that led to the summit. He -pushed through an avenue of old machinery, -crawled over two old sleighs and under a grindstone -frame, and emerged into a dim, almost -empty corner.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The heat of the hay was intense. The stuffy, -dry smell of it filled their nostrils. Where the -bright, wide ray of sunlight fell from the little -window in the apex, the air was seen to be dancing -and palpitating with millions of tiny particles -that kept up a continuous churning motion. -The perspiration dripped from the Vicar’s round -cheeks; she panted with the heat.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Walking on his tiptoes, the Head Captain -sought the darkest depths of the corner, stumbling -over an old covered chest. He stopped, he -put his hand on the lid. The two attendant officers -gasped. The Head Captain, with infinite -caution, lifted that lid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly a dull, echoing crash shook the floor. -The Vicar squeaked in nervous terror. I say -squeaked, because with grand presence of mind -<span class='pageno' id='Page_46'>46</span>the Lieutenant smothered her certain scream in -the folds of his ever-ready sash, and only a faint -chirp disturbed the deathly silence that followed -the crash. The Head Captain’s hand trembled, -but he held the cover of the chest and waited. -Again that hollow boom, followed by a rustling, -as of hay being dragged down, and a champing, -swallowing, gurgling sound.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_056.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Smothered her certain scream in the folds of his ever-ready sash.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothin’ but the horses,” whispered the Lieutenant, -removing his sash. “Shut up, now!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_47'>47</span>The Vicar breathed again. The Head Captain -bent over the chest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! Oh! Oh, fellows! Look a-here!” -His voice shook. His eyes stared wide. They -crept nearer and caught big breaths.</p> - -<p class='c000'>There in the old chest, carelessly thrown together, -uncovered, unprotected, lay a glittering -wealth of strange gold and silver treasures. -Knobs, cups, odd pierced, shallow saucers, countless -rings as big as small cookies, plain bars of -metal, heavy rods.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain’s eyes shone feverishly, he -breathed quick.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here, here, here!” he whispered, and thrust -his hands into the box. He ladled out a handful -to the Vicar. For a moment she shrank away; -and then, as a shallow, carved gold-colored thing -touched her hand, her cheeks heated red, she -seized it and hid it in her pocket.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gimme another,” she begged softly, “gimme -that shiny, little cup!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>If there had been any doubt as to the heavenly -reality of the thing, it was all over now. No -<span class='pageno' id='Page_48'>48</span>more need the Head Captain’s swelling words fill -out the bare gaps of the actual state of the case. -Here were the things—this was no pretend-game. -Here was danger, here was crime, here -was glittering wealth all unguarded, and no one -knew but them!</p> - -<p class='c000'>They gloated over the chest; their hot fingers -handled eagerly every ring and big chain. Only -the Lieutenant, sucking in his breath, excitedly -broke the ecstatic silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain first mastered himself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hm, that’s enough—<em>from here</em>!” he commanded -with dreadful implication. “Come on. -They’ll kill us if they catch us! Soft, now. -Don’t breathe so loud, Vicar!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Off in a different direction he led them, having -closed the box softly, and instead of making for -the stairs, stopped before three square openings -in the floor. He lay flat on his stomach and -peered down one. It opened directly above the -manger, and when he had cast down two armfuls -of hay and measured the distance with his -eye, they saw that he meant to drop through, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_49'>49</span>and realized that his blood was up, and heaven -knew where he would stop that day.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Vicar caught the idea before the Lieutenant, -and with characteristic impatience, was through the -second hole before the third member of the band -had thrown down his first armful. Light as a cat -she dropped, scrambled out of the manger, and as -a step sounded in the outer barn, dragged the -Lieutenant through in an agony of apprehension, -stumbled across the great heap of stable refuse, and -crouched, palpitating, behind the cow-house door.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain, whom crises calmed and -immediate danger heartened, himself crept back -into the stable to gather from the sound of the -steps the direction taken by the intruder.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He was talking to the horse.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Want some dinner? I’ll bet you do. Stealing -hay, was you? That’ll never do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was enough. Soon he would go upstairs to -count over the treasures—who would ever have -supposed that this simple-looking stableman had -known for years of such a trove?—and then woe -to the Pirates!</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_50'>50</span>“Come on, you! Run for your life!” he shot -at them, and they tore across the yard, over a -back fence, and across a vacant lot, panting, -stumbling, muttering to each other, the Vicar -crying with excitement. The Lieutenant caught -his foot in his sash and fell miserably, mistaking -them for arms of the law, as they loyally turned -back to pick him up, and fighting them with -feeble punches. They dragged him through a -hedge and took refuge in an old tool-house.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Slowly they got back breath. The delicious -horror of pursuit was lifted from them. It appeared -that they were safe.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You goin’ home, now?” said the Lieutenant -huskily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Home? Home? Was the fellow mad? The -Head Captain vouchsafed no answer.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Forward! March!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He strode out of the tool-house and made for -the barn. A large dog barked, and a voice -called:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Down, Danny, down!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They returned hastily, and climbed laboriously -<span class='pageno' id='Page_51'>51</span>out of a little window on the other side of the -tool-house, striking a bee-line for the adjoining -property. The treasure jingled in their pockets -as they ran stealthily into this barn. The last -restraint was cast away, they were on new territory. -A succession of back-yard cuts had resulted -in their turning a corner, and had they -gone openly and in the light of day out into the -street, they would have found themselves in another -part of the town. The Head Captain -crept in through a low window. He was entirely -wrapped up in his dreadful character. Blind to -consequences, hardly looking to see if the others -followed him, he worked his way over the sill and -stared about him. Imagination was no longer -necessary. No fine-spun trickery was needed to -turn the too-familiar places into weird dens, the -well-known barns into menacing danger-traps. -Here all was new, untried, of endless possibilities.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was a clean, spacious spot. Great shadowy, -white-draped carriages stood along the sides; a -smell of varnish and new leather prevailed. On -the walls hung fascinating garden tools: quaint-nosed -<span class='pageno' id='Page_52'>52</span>watering-pots, coils of hose, a lawn fountain. -All was still. The Head Captain strode -across the floor, extending his hand with a majestic -sweep.</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_062.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Anything we want we can take!</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“All these things—all of ’em—anything we -want, we can take!” he muttered, but not to -them. They could plainly see he was talking to -himself. Rapt in wild dreams of unchecked -depredation he stamped about, fingering the garden -hose, prying behind the carriages, tossing -his head and breathing hard.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly came a step as of a -man walking on gravel. It drew -nearer, nearer. For one awful -moment the Lieutenant seemed -in danger of thinking himself a -frightened little boy in a strange -barn; he plucked at his sash nervously. -The next instant two -hands fell from opposite directions -on his shoulders.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Get into a carriage—quick, -quick, quick!” hissed the Head -<span class='pageno' id='Page_53'>53</span>Captain, and he heard the Vicar panting as she -shoved him under the flap of the sheet that -draped a high-swung victoria. She was with -him, huddled close beside him on the floor -of the carriage, and it seemed hardly credible -that the clatter of the Head Captain’s hasty -dive into the neighboring surrey could have -failed to catch the ear of the man who entered -the barn. But he heard nothing. He walked -by them lazily, he paused and struck a match on -the wheel of the victoria, and the smell of tobacco -crept in under the sheet. It seemed to the -Vicar that the thumping of her heart must shake -the carriage. She dared not gasp for breath, -but she knew she should burst if that man stood -there much longer. It could not be possible -that he wouldn’t find them. Ah, how little he -knew! Right under his very pipe lay those -who could take away everything in his old barn -if they chose. Perhaps the very surrey that -now held that terrible Head Captain might be -gone ere morning, he had such ambitions, such -vaulting dreams.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_54'>54</span>Thump! thump! thump! went her heart, and -the Lieutenant’s breath whistled through his -teeth. Never in their lives had such straining -excitement possessed their every nerve. Oh, go -on, go on, or we shall scream!</p> - -<p class='c000'>He sauntered by, he opened some door at -the rear. The latch all but clicked, when a -hollow but unmistakable sneeze burst from the -Head Captain’s -surrey. Immediately -the door -opened again. -The man took -a step back. -All was deathly -still, the echoes -of their leader’s -fateful sneeze -alone thrilled the -hearts of his anguished -followers.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_064.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>She knew she should burst if that man stood there much longer.”</em></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Humph!” -<span class='pageno' id='Page_55'>55</span>muttered a deep voice, “that’s queer. Anybody -out there?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Silence. Silence that buzzed and hummed and -roared in the Vicar’s ears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Queer—I thought I heard.... Damn -queer!” muttered the man. The Lieutenant -shuddered. That was a word whose possibilities -he hesitated to consider. Piracy is bad enough, -heaven knows, -but profanity is -surely worse.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Again the -latch clicked. -After an artful -pause the nose of -the Head Captain -appeared, -inserted at an -inquiring angle -between the two -sheets that -draped the surrey. -Cautiously -<span class='pageno' id='Page_56'>56</span>he swung himself down, cautiously he tiptoed -toward the others.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Sst! Sst!</em> All safe!” he whispered. They -scrambled out, and a glance at his reserved frown -taught them that the recent sneeze must not be -mentioned.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Like cats they crept up the stairs, and only -the Head Captain’s great presence of mind prevented -their falling backward down the flight, for -there on the hay before them lay a man stretched -at full length, breathing heavily. His face was a -deep red in color, and a strong, sweetish odor -filled the loft. They turned about at the Head -Captain’s warning gesture, and waited while he -stole fearfully up and examined the man. When -he rejoined them there was a new triumph in his -eyes, a greater exaltation in his hurried speech.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come here, Lieutenant!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aye, aye, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is a dead pirate. He died defending—defending -his life. He will be discovered if we -leave him here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This seemed eminently probable. The Lieutenant -<span class='pageno' id='Page_57'>57</span>looked alarmed. He took a step or two -on the loft floor and returned, relieved.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, he ain’t dead, either,” he announced, -“he’s only as——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He is dead,” repeated the Head Captain -firmly. “Dead, I say. You shut up, will you? -And we must bury him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant looked sulky and chewed the end -of his sash. To be so put down before the Vicar! -It was hardly decent. And she, in her usual and -irritating way, grasped the situation immediately.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We must bury him right off,” she whispered -excitedly, “before that man gets up here.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That man,” added the Head Captain, “is a -dreadful bad fellow, I tell you. If he was to -catch us up here, I don’t know—I don’t know -but he’d—here, come back, Lieutenant! Come -back, I say!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They stole up to the dead pirate, who had not -the appearance attributed by popular imagination -to those who have died nobly. The Lieutenant -was frankly in the dark as to his superior officer’s -intentions.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_58'>58</span>“If you take him off to bury him he’ll -wake——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hush your noise!” interrupted the Head -Captain angrily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Vicar could not wait for any one else’s -initiative, but began feverishly pulling up handfuls -of hay and piling them lightly over the dead -pirate’s boots. The Head Captain covered the -man’s body with two hastily snatched armfuls, -and as the Vicar’s courage gave out at this point, -coolly laid a thin wisp directly over the red face. -The pirate was buried. It gave one a thrill to -see hardly a dim outline of his figure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hats off, my men,” whispered the Head -Captain, hoarse with emotion, “and we will say -a prayer. Lieutenant,” with a noble renunciation -in his expression, “<em>you</em> may say the -prayer!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant was touched, and melted from -his sulky scorn.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What’ll I say? What’ll I say?” he muttered -excitedly. “Not ‘Hollow be thy Name’? That’s -a long one.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_59'>59</span>“Now I lay——” suggested the Vicar tremulously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pshaw, no!” interrupted the Head Captain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not a baby thing like that! If you don’t -know one, Lieutenant, I’ll make one up.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, I’ll say one,” urged the Lieutenant hastily. -“I’ll say one, Captain. I’ll say my colick -that I had yesterday. Wait up a second, till I -remember it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The heavy, regular breathing continued to -come out from under the hay, where lay the -martyred pirate. The hens in a near-by henyard -cackled shrilly, the trilling of an indefatigable -canary in the coachman’s rooms rose and fell -through the hot June air. Red and dripping -with the heat, dusty and sprinkled with the hay, -the outlaws stood, solemn and tense, starting at -the least fancied sound from below.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant cleared his throat, shut his eyes -tight to assist his memory, and began his burial -service:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Almighty ’n’ everlastin’ God, who’s given -unto us, Thy servants, grace by the c’nfession of a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_60'>60</span>true faith t’ acknowledge th’ glory of th’ Eternal -Trinity, and—and——</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>And in the power of the Divine Majesty——</em>” -prompted the Vicar ostentatiously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Will</em> you keep still, Miss? <em>Majesty to worship -the Unity, we beseech Thee that Thou wouldst -keep ’s—keep ’s steadfast, er, wouldst keep ’s -steadfast——</em>”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_070.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Almighty ’n everlastin’ God.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant paused helplessly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>In this faith</em>,” added the Vicar with triumph, -dashing on with almost unintelligible -rapidity, “<em>and evermore defend ’s from all ’dversities, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_61'>61</span>who livest ’n’ reignest one God, world ’thout -end. Amen!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She took a necessary breath, and pushed back -her mask still further from her tumbled bang.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain was visibly impressed. It -had never occurred to him to say a collect. The -Lieutenant was not such a poor stick, after all.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Gravely he led the way down-stairs and climbed -abstractedly through the little window. Something -was evidently on his mind.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The last time I saw that pirate,” he began.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant tripped, and sat down abruptly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The—the last time you saw him?” he -stammered.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That’s what I said,” responded the Head Captain -shortly. “The last time I saw him I didn’t -s’pose I’d have to bury him. He’d just got a lot -of treasure and stuff and—<em>Sst! Sst!</em> For your -lives!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They scuttled off desperately. The ground was -new to them, and had it not been for providential -garbage barrels and outhouses, they could hardly -have hoped to conceal themselves from the man -<span class='pageno' id='Page_62'>62</span>who was raking up the yard. To avoid him they -dashed straight through his barn, and rounded a -summer-house without perceiving a small tea-party -going on there, till they ran through it, to their -own sick terror, and the abject amazement of the -tea-party. They tore through a hedge, panted a -doubtful moment in a woodhouse, then took up -their headlong flight with the vague, straining -pace of crowded dreams. On, on, on. Slip behind -that lilac clump—wait! <em>Sst! Sst!</em> Then -get along! Oh, hurry, hurry! Pick up your -sash! Whose <em>is</em> this yard? Never mind! hurry!</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_072.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Then took up their headlong flight.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>They dropped exhausted under their own pear -tree.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_63'>63</span>“My, but that was a close shave! I thought -they’d got us sure!” breathed the Head Captain.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wh-who were they?” asked the Lieutenant, -round-eyed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Who were they? Who were they?” the -Head Captain repeated scornfully. “The idea! -I guess you’d find out who they were if they -caught you once!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Lieutenant shot a sly glance at the Vicar. -Did she know? You never could tell, she pretended -so. She shivered at the Head Captain’s implication.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yes, sirree, I guess you’d find out then,” she -assured him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly the Head Captain’s face fell. “The -treasure!” he gasped. “It’s gone!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>In dismay they turned out their pockets. All -those vessels of gold and vessels of silver were lost—lost -in that last mad rush. All but the shallow, -gold-colored saucer in the Vicar’s hand. -They looked at it enviously, but honor kept them -silent. To the Vicar belonged the spoils.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t see what good they were, anyhow,” -began the Lieutenant morosely.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_64'>64</span>“’Good’?” mimicked the Head Captain, enraged. -“’Good’? Why, didn’t we <em>steal</em> ’em?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Slowly they took off their uniforms and hid -them under the back piazza. Slowly the occasion -faded into the light of common day; objects lost -their mystery, the barn and the tool-house imperceptibly -divested themselves of all glamour. -It was only the back yard.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Head Captain and the Lieutenant threw -themselves down under the pear tree again and -fell into a doze. The Vicar, grasping her treasure, -stumbled up the back stairs and took an informal -nap on the landing. It must have been at -this time that the gold-colored saucer slipped from -her hand, for when she woke on the sofa in the -upper hall, it was nowhere about.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The same hands that had transferred her to -that more conventional resting-place, bathed and -attired her for supper, and though two hours ago -she would, as a pirate, have exulted in her guilty -possession, somehow as a neat, small person in -pink ribbons she felt shy at approaching the subject, -and ate her custard in silence.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_65'>65</span> -<img src='images/i_075.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>A neat small person in pink ribbons.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Some time during the hours of the next long -morning, as she played quietly on the piazza, she -caught her mother’s voice, slightly raised to reach -the cook’s ear:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, I suppose it is. I shouldn’t wonder, Maggie. -I suppose the child picked it up somewhere. -Did you hear that, Fred, about Mr. Van Tuyl’s -best harness? All scattered through half the back -yards on Winter Street. All those brass ornaments, -and parts of the very side-lamps, too. Fortunately -they found it all. Take that piece, Maggie, -and give it to the man when you see him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Vicar sighed. Just then she felt, with the -poet, that home-keeping hearts are happiest.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_69'>69</span> - <h2 class='c005'>BOBBERT’S MERRY CHRISTMAS</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>“And <em>that’s</em> how I came to be born in a -manger!” Bobbert concluded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The baby nodded, her mouth a comprehending -bud, her eyes big with interest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nuv’ ’tory! Tell Babe nuv’ ’tory!” she demanded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So then the wise men came. They were shepherds. -They came with their flocks-by-night——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Huh?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Flocks-by-night, I say. It was something -they had. They brought me some Frank’s incense——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Unka F’ank! <em>Goo-ood</em> Unka F’ank!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Will</em> you keep still? It wasn’t that Frank.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Warum nicht?</span></i>” inquired the baby, with a -startling intelligibility. Her German, for some -reason best known to herself, was as distinct as -her English was garbled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because it isn’t, silly. Uncle Frank isn’t a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_70'>70</span>wise man—he’s a p’fessor in college. And they -brought me——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look here, Bobbert, what on earth are you -talking about?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m telling her all about Christmas, Uncle -Frank.” Bobbert removed the corner of the rug -from the baby’s mouth and handed her her silk -rag doll. “Minna said to amuse her, and I was. -About the manger I was telling——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“So I heard. But why do you cast it in that -form precisely? You see, you weren’t born in -one, and—and—er—you really oughtn’t to -talk that way, don’t you know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why wasn’t I?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because you weren’t.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, where was I, then?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You were born in this house.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where in this house?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where? Why, upstairs, I suppose.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Are people always born upstairs?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Usually.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Never born down-stairs at all? Didn’t you -ever know anybody that was born down—”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_71'>71</span>“Oh, stop, Bobbert! Go on amusing your -sister. You have a genius for pure idiocy. -Where’s your mother?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert’s face fell. The baby tore off a bit -of her doll and swallowed it unrebuked—it was -one of her swallowing days—and began wetting -her finger and following in a smudgy outline the -figures on the Kate Greenaway wall-paper, without -one reprimand from her brother.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’F I’m goin’ to have a tree, I want to make -it myself. They’re all down in the lib’r’y, and I -have to keep out. They’ve got a ladder in there, -too. And they laugh all the time. I have to -stay here with <em>her</em>! What’s the good o’ calling -it my tree if I can’t help? Aunt Helena says -won’t my eyes pop out when I see; but they -won’t.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>(“Hadn’t she better keep the doll to play with -and eat something else?”)</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think I might go in! Here, stop eating -that, Baby! Let go! Somebody fell off the -ladder, too, and there I was out in the hall! I -don’t believe they had the little back thing up -<span class='pageno' id='Page_72'>72</span>that keeps it from doubling up, sort of, that way -it does, you know. Do you? I could ’a’ told -them about that. What’s the good of a tree, -anyway?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>(“Do you think she improves the wall-paper -with that border? Perhaps the color comes -off.”)</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here, stop that! Don’t suck your hand, -Baby. Oh, goodness! I wish Minna was here. -I’m not a nurse. I never made such a fuss when -I was little, I know. If I had a tree for anybody, -I’d let them have the fun of it. Wouldn’t you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His audience looked uncertain. In his heart -he felt that his nephew was right, but prudence -restrained him, and he rose to go with a temporizing -air. “Well, you know, it’s usually done -this way,” he suggested. “It’s supposed to be in -the nature of a surprise. If you arranged the -whole thing, there wouldn’t be anybody to surprise, -would there?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert sniffed. “Oh, if you stay out, we -could s’prise you, I s’pose,” he said, somewhat -cynically.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_73'>73</span>“But I’ve seen so many trees——” The defence -was very feeble, and he knew it.</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_083.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Here, stop that.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, all right,” said Bobbert testily, jerking -the baby away from the high fender. “And -they’re popping corn -over the fire in there; -I heard it pop. And -Aunt Helena said -that it was so good -sugared, and that -fat one—the one -with the yellow mustache—said -that -he should think all -that she ate would -taste——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How do you know what they said?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I heard.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I heard.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How did you hear?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Through the key-hole!” Bobbert set his jaw -and twisted a piece of the baby’s dress nervously.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_74'>74</span>“And since when have you adopted that -method of obtaining information, Robertson?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t care! I only did a moment! I don’t -care if it is sneaky—I might just as well be -sneaky if I’m not going to Annapolis! If I do -anything at all, everybody says: ‘Oh dear! I’m -afraid you’ll never be a lieutenant, after all. -They never do so!’ And if I say I’m going to -be one, they say, ‘I wouldn’t count on it, Bobbert,’ -till I’m just sick and tired! Am I going -to Annapolis? Am I? I don’t care about the -old tree if I know that.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear boy, how do I know? It will depend -on—on—on circumstances,” he concluded -weakly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert stamped his foot. His uncle slipped -out of the room.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the library the tree was towering to completion. -A gilt angel held ropes of pop-corn -that straggled artistically downward; snowy, -ribbon-bound packets dangled from the boughs; -candles dotted the ends. Aunts and uncles chattered -and laughed and quarrelled amicably, while -<span class='pageno' id='Page_75'>75</span>Bobbert’s father and mother, bubbling over with -delight and busyness and vague Christmas good -feeling, ran about holding the same parcels, -straightening the same red candle, pulling at the -same rope of cranberries.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Isn’t it grand, Frank? This is really the -best we’ve ever had. How are the children? -Do they suspect anything?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nothing—nothing whatever,” he assured her. -“Bobbert thinks the odor of hemlock and pop-corn -is to be attributed to the window-boxes, and -I have no doubt that he supposes you’re conducting -a funeral down here. It’s so still and solemn.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Frank, how absurd! Well, I suppose -he does begin to suspect——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“My dear sister, your penetration does you -credit. Bobbert is only nine, and he has only -seen this performance nine times, so it would be -odd if he should have any <em>exact</em> idea of what you -are all doing, but he probably has a dim——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, Frank, you are tiresome. Of course he -knows, but how can he know the size of it? He -<span class='pageno' id='Page_76'>76</span>never saw one so big. And we never had so -many candles—there are three boxes here. And -look at this. What do you think Uncle Ritch. -has sent him?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>One of the aunts waved at him a set of red, -blue and yellow balls attached by elastic cords to -a brightly colored stick.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I suppose the dear old man thinks Bobbert -is about two years old! Where have you put -that Japanese juggler’s outfit, Kate? See, Frank, -that beautiful French puzzle! It’s awfully interesting. -I hope he’ll like it. More candy? The -idea! The child would die! Where’s Father -Robertson’s bird-book, dear? I sha’n’t dare let -him take it alone; it’s too exquisite. See, Frank, -there are two hundred and fifty colored plates. -Isn’t it beautiful?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert’s uncle fell upon the book. “By -George!” he said, “but that’s a beauty! Rather -wasted on Bobbert, isn’t it? Doesn’t know an -ostrich from a canary, does he?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, that’s what Father Robertson wants -him to learn!” they cried in chorus.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_77'>77</span>He nodded doubtfully. “Pity he can’t come in -and help,” he suggested, “he’d enjoy this rumpus.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They stared at him in consternation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Francis Robertson, what are you thinking -of? Have Bobbert help on his own tree? -Are you crazy?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I suppose it wouldn’t do,” he admitted, “but -you see that’s just what a little fellow likes—all -the noise and fuss and running about and the—smells,” -he added vaguely.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The smells?” demanded Bobbert’s mother.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“The hemlock and the candy and the <em>new</em> -smell of all the things,” he persisted.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“In short,” said the fat one with the yellow -mustache, looking up from a box of many-colored -baubles with which he and Aunt Helena were -playing in undisguised joy, “just what we like!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Precisely,” remarked Uncle Frank.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Really,” said Aunt Kate, somewhat stiffly, -“if Bobbert and Babe should help about the tree, -I can’t quite see whom we’d call in to see it this -evening! What are we working so hard for—to -please ourselves?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_78'>78</span>“Oh, no! great heavens, no!” cried Uncle -Frank.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert’s father appeared with an armful of -steel rails and cross-pieces. “What do you say -to this, Robertson?” he called delightedly. -“Jove! these are heavy. Three switches to the -thing, and you ought to see the engine! There’s -a parlor-car, a smoker, and two passengers. See -the tender? Jove! I call that pretty good. -Ring the bell, Kate. Look at that piston-rod, -Frank!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They clustered about him excitedly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Father sent it round just now. Wouldn’t -tell what he paid for the thing. You clamp it -down to the carpet—right through it goes. There -are forty-two feet of railing—how’s that? Four -curves and three switches—regular thing, you -know. We’ll put it right through the library, -across the hall, and loop it back in front of the -conservatory. What do you say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Won’t he be delighted!” sighed the aunts.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Can we get it down before evening?” said -Bobbert’s mother nervously.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_79'>79</span>“Well, I should say so!” The fat one with -the yellow mustache seized an armful of rails and -began to study the joinings; Bobbert’s father and -Uncle Christopher explained the switch-workings -eagerly to each other; and Bobbert’s mother flew -about wondering how the rugs could stand it, -and picturing Bobbert’s joy as the train puffed -out from the base of the tree.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This is great!” Uncle Christopher cried, as -the rails went down with wonderful celerity. -“Haven’t had such fun in an age! Half the fun’s -in getting it ready!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The fat one with the mustache glanced up and -caught Uncle Frank’s eye.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps he’d rather——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert’s mother shook her head at them. -“Now stop right there,” she said merrily, “if -you’re going to suggest that he should come -down and help! You don’t seem to see my plan -at all, Frank. I want this thing to be perfect—I -want it all to burst on him at once. How can -we put it down in the evening when we’re all -dressed? And there wouldn’t be time, anyway. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_80'>80</span>Oh, Chris, you didn’t get him that, too? See -that lovely dog collar! And the chain, too! -Now Don will look respectable. Just step up -stairs, won’t you, Frank, and keep Bob on that -floor till supper? Minna will bring it to him -up there. He’ll see the rails, you see, if he comes -down into the hall. Helena, if you and Mr. -Ferris eat any more of that broken candy, you’ll -certainly be sick. No, I don’t mean ill—I mean -plain sick.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Do you mean to say you’re not going to let -that child out into the dining-room? He’ll be -so disgusted there’ll be no managing him.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert’s mother looked plaintive. “I wish to -heaven, Frank,” she said, “that you had some -children of your own! Perhaps you wouldn’t be -so ridiculous then. How on earth is it going to -hurt Bobbert, to-night of all nights, to stay in -the nursery a few hours, just so that we may all -toil for his own particular amusement? Tell -him a story, or something. We’ll barely have -time——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>A burst of laughter interrupted her. Uncle -<span class='pageno' id='Page_81'>81</span>Christopher had wound up the train and started -it on what extent of rail was already laid, to his -own great comfort and the disgust of Bobbert’s -father and the fat one with the mustache, who -shrieked at him to -“stop it off,” and -nervously waved -their hands at the -engine as it hove -down upon the unfinished -curve at the -hearth rug, while -Aunt Helena waved -a red flag wildly, and -Aunt Kate began to -pass round a hat for -a purse for “the brave girl who risked her life so -gallantly to save the train.”</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_091.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>What are they doing in the hall?</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>He left them with a chuckle, and began to -mount the stairs two steps at a time, just saving -himself from falling upon a huddled group at the -top of the flight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What <em>are</em> they doing in the hall?” Bobbert -<span class='pageno' id='Page_82'>82</span>demanded, abruptly, clutching the baby’s skirts -with one hand and supporting himself in a peering -attitude with the other. “What makes ’em -scream that way? Why do they say, ‘Down -brakes’? Is it a game? When Aunt Helena -laughs and laughs that way, she us’ally cries -afterward.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Uncle Frank towed them back into the nursery, -and led the conversation story-ward, but Bobbert -was not to be beguiled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m tired of stories. I’d rather be down-stairs,” -he yawned. “I know one thing—if I get -another old carpenter’s set, I’ll sell it to-morrow -for five cents. I hate ’em. All I want’s a boat, -and I can’t have that. I don’t see why I can’t go -out, if it <em>is</em> snowing. I never can do a single thing -I want, anyway.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You are a little cross,” observed his uncle, -surveying him critically, “but I don’t know that -I blame you. Minna’s coming up soon.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, she better.” Bobbert scowled at the -baby, who smiled sweetly back.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You’re bad,” he said, shortly.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_83'>83</span>“Oh, <i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">nein</span></i>,” she -smiled.</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_093.jpg' alt='Oh, nein, she smiled. Oh, ja, he scowled.' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, <i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">ja</span></i>,” he -scowled. “You’re -always chewing -the wrong thing. -Look at -your shoe, -all wet! -What’ll Minna -say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She screwed her -face into wrinkles -<span class='pageno' id='Page_84'>84</span>and shook her head, wringing her hands with -Minna’s gesture. “<i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Pfui! pfui doch! ’s ist -abscheulich!</span></i>” she scolded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t believe you’ll get a present at all,” he -continued.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Babe get p’es’t! Babe get big p’es’t!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not a one! Not a one!” he persisted.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her eyes filled; she implored him earnestly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>P’ease</em>, Babe get big p’es’t!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Not a——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Stop teasing your sister, Bobbert. Of course -she’ll get a present. Why not?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because she swore.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What on earth do you mean?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I mean what I say.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“When did she swear?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Day before yesterday night. She said she -was going to be bad when she got up, and -they kept at her to say she wouldn’t and she -said she would. She can be the worst you ever -saw.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Worse ever saw!” echoed the baby.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And all day they were afraid she would be, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_85'>85</span>and she wasn’t and she wasn’t, and she wasn’t. -Not till she went to bed. And she said her -prayers—that one she says, ‘<i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Herr Jesus, mild -und</span></i>—something—<i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Du</span></i>’—and -then she -just looked right up -at the ceiling and -swore as hard as she -could.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What in th—time -did she say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She said: ‘O -Lord! Good Heavens! -Damn!’”</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_095.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Oh Lord! Good Heavens! Damn!</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And she got her -little hands mighty well slapped, too. She must -never say it again, must you, Baby?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The baby laughed impishly. There was no -telling what more she knew.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At exactly half-past six the library doors flew -open with a bang, the piano struck up a brilliant -march and Minna escorted her charges pompously -<span class='pageno' id='Page_86'>86</span>down the stairs, the baby in white, with a bewildering -number of pink bows, Bobbert in a blue -sailor suit.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Around the gleaming tree stood a ring of -aunts, uncles and grandparents, flushed and -happy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Merry Christmas, Bobbert! Merry Christmas, -Babe! How do you like it? Isn’t it grand? -See the angel? See the pop-corn? Don’t look -at the floor yet! (No, it isn’t time so soon. -Chris will start it.) Well, was it lovely, bless -her little heart? <i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Wunderschön, Liebchen<a id='t86'></a>, nicht -wahr?</span></i>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert smiled perfunctorily at the tree, -blinked a little, leaped through the ring of bright-frocked -relatives, and fell upon a red-faced, apologetic -man standing with the group of delighted -servants near the door.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hello David!” he cried. “When did you -come back? Are you going to stay? Did you -know I could swim? Will you tell me a story -to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>David, whose only fault was too great an attachment -<span class='pageno' id='Page_87'>87</span>to the cup that cheered him too frequently, -and who had been devoted to Bobbert, -coughed deprecatingly and explained: “Only -dropped in for the tree, Mr. Bob, your papa -havin’ asked me in with the rest. And a fine -tree it is, I’m sure. I expect most o’ them presents -will be for you, Mr. Bob?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>David prefixed the title of respect in public, -but his private relations with Bobbert had been -anything but formal.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Aunt Kate, dancing with impatience, had begun -to detach the presents from the lower boughs, -and soon they were piling up around him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Master Robertson Wheeler. Master Robertson -Wheeler—oh, Bobbert, that’s a whopping -fine present. Miss Dorothea Wheeler. <i><span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Siehst -du, mein süsses Kind?</span></i> Master Robertson Wheeler. -See what Uncle Ritch. sent you, Bob! He -forgot how you had grown!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They were laughing, explaining, thanking, -eating, all at once.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And the candy, mother’ll keep till to-morrow. -Now, Bob, see! Under the tree!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_88'>88</span>The engine rattled proudly forth. The uncles -and aunts fell upon it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There! I told you it wasn’t oiled enough! -See, where the smoke-stack joins on! Will she -take the curve by the rug? See, Bobbert, how -the switches work! Real switches! Father! -Here, this way, Father Robertson! Mr. Ferris -is going to work the switch. Isn’t it wonderful, -Bobbert? It’s from Grandpa Wheeler. Thank -him. It goes through the hall. Oh, Kate, you -can’t work that switch, can you? See Aunt -Kate work the switch, dear.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Bobbert watched it curiously. He ran forward -to the third switch.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Want to see how it goes, Bob? Here, I’ll -work it for you. It’s a little catchy at first. -Yes indeed, Mr. Robertson, we had more fun -than a little getting this ready, I assure you. -Quite complete, isn’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Uncle Christopher began to juggle with the -Japanese outfit, to the intense delight of the servants. -The aunties and Mr. Ferris played with -the engine explaining its mechanism to the wondering -<span class='pageno' id='Page_89'>89</span>grandfathers. Grandma Wheeler marvelled -at the French dissecting puzzle. Bobbert’s mother -happily guarding the candy, laughed at the baby, -who, harnessed into the dog collar, pranced along -before her father, waving the colored balls in the -air, a woolly lamb under her free arm. The -merry moments passed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly Grandfather Wheeler looked up from -the bird-book, which he was sharing with Uncle -Frank. “But where is Robertson, Jr.?” he inquired -mildly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They stared. “Why, right here,” they said. -But he was not right there.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Uncle Frank looked about comprehensively at -the relatives and smiled a superior smile. Then -his eye fell on the bird-book in his lap, and the -smile changed its quality.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He glanced at the ring of servants. “And -where is David?” he added. Suddenly he sprang -to his feet. “Come on!” he said. “We’ll -find him. Don’t make a noise—walk softly, -now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And still holding the presents, they trooped -<span class='pageno' id='Page_90'>90</span>after him through the hall, Bobbert’s mother -close to the leader, the aunties and Mr. Ferris at -the end of the line. Through the dining-room, -through the wide pantry, through the hall, and -up to the kitchen door they tiptoed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Uncle Frank paused a moment, nodded, and -made room for Bobbert’s father, while the grandfathers -crowded up and the aunties peeped under -and over.</p> - -<p class='c000'>On the floor before the well-swept kitchen -hearth sat David; beside him, a little space away, -squatted Bobbert, a long black hockey-stick in -his hand. Between them were arranged large -pieces of coal from the hod—arranged in what -appeared to be nine-pin patterns.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I shall attack from the right at daybreak. -You’ll see what the Mosquito Fleet can do, Mr. -David! Your clumsy old Spanish ships can’t -move quick enough! Can they?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wait and see, Bob, my boy!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“This coal makes dandy ships—don’t it? A -lot of coal would be a fine present—wouldn’t it? -They use wood upstairs, and I don’t believe I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_91'>91</span>could get hold of any. Are you enjoying yourself, -David?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You bet I am, Bob. Put your flagship in -line.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, I will. She was out for—for repairs. -When I go skating, David, I’ll never use any -other hockey-stick. I wanted a black one next -to a boat. You were lovely to give it to me. -I’ll be big enough for a boat next year, I -hope.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, now it’s daybreak. Lieutenant, are -you ready?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aye, aye, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Begin the fight!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aye, aye, sir.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The coal flew about thick and fast, the commanders -shuffled the lumps into place, cheering -and encouraging their officers and crews. Ship -after ship sank, to rise no more, in a clatter of -coal on the hearth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Under cover of the noise Uncle Frank led -them away, silent, through the empty rooms, to -where the deserted Christmas tree sheltered only -<span class='pageno' id='Page_92'>92</span>Minna, cooing German cradle-songs to her sleeping -baby.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now look here,” he said. “Let’s be sensible, -dear people. We’ll go on enjoying our presents -and sports—and let Bobbert enjoy his. Why -not, eh?”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_95'>95</span> - <h2 class='c005'>THE HEART OF A CHILD</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>The sun-glare lies on the road and the -field and the house. The beetles buzz -and buzz, and the hens chuckle drowsily, -half sunk in the gray dust. There are only three -little white clouds in all the warm blue sky. It is -quite still, except for the hens and the beetles and -the occasional flap of the collie’s tail on the warm -flags. No one passes up or down the road. It is -the hot noon sleep of the country in August.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly comes the grating sound of something -dragged over the floor, and the door opens. The -Child pushes out with a little wooden rocking-chair -and a great tin pan heaped with unshelled -peas. She stands the chair carefully in the coolest -patch of shade and squeezes her plump little body -between the curved arms. Her blue-checked -apron is tied by the waistband around her neck—it -is a grown woman’s apron, and covers her -and the chair, which is far too small for her, now. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_96'>96</span>But one cannot be always eight years old, and -when one is eleven shall one relinquish without a -pang the birthday gifts of one’s childhood?</p> - -<p class='c000'>She lays the pan beside her and puts a handful -of peas into her blue-checked lap. She presses -her brown little thumb against the sharp green -edge and drags it down the pod. Out patter the -little green balls, and rattle into the pan. Truly, -a pleasant sound! Like the rain on the roof. -When she was very little and slept with her -mother, she woke once in the night, and it was -raining hard. The thunder frightened her, and -her mother comforted her and sang her to sleep -in the bed. And when the lightning flashed and -all the room was bright and dreadful, her mother -told her to keep her eyes shut and then the flashes -would not trouble her. So she screwed her eyes -hard together and held her mother’s hand and -drifted off to sleep.</p> - -<p class='c000'>That was so long ago! But whenever anything -rattles and patters she shuts her eyes quickly, -and sees for a moment the dark room and the -square white counterpane, and hears her mother -<span class='pageno' id='Page_97'>97</span>singing “Mary of Argyle.” She wonders if when -we die and go to heaven we are reminded by little -sights and sounds of what we used to do on earth. -Of course, we shall do only pleasant things there, -but they might remind us of the pleasant things -here—the pasture in the early morning, when it -is so still and cool and almost strange; the barn, -full of sweet piles of hay, musical with pigeons, -checkered with amber sunlight, a fairy palace on -whose fragrant divans one sits with sultans and -slave girls, and listens to Sindbad and Aladdin; -the shady porch, where cool white milk and dark -shiny gingerbread wait the weary, berry-stained -wanderer. In the brown book in the parlor is a -poem about a little girl who used to “take her -little porringer and eat her supper there.” The -Child feels like that little girl when she eats in -the porch.</p> - -<p class='c000'>There is another little girl in the brown book—“Sweet -Lucy Gray.” She thinks of Lucy when she -comes home alone at dusk, and quickens her steps.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>For some maintain unto this day</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>She is a living child</em>——</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_98'>98</span>How frightened she would be! Not that the -Child has been foolishly taught to fear. Only that -she is imaginative, and knows enough to be afraid.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In that poem there is mention of one “minster-clock.” -What may that be? She connects it -hazily with the watch that the minister takes out -before the sermon. But that could never strike. -If she could have one wish in all her life she -knows what it would be. A beautiful gold watch -all chased with figures and a cherry-colored ribbon -tied into the handle. Then she would put it into -her waist—but her dresses open in the back! The -disadvantages of youth are obvious enough, in -all conscience, without that last pathetic touch. -When can she have a separate waist and skirt?</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suppose she should die before she grows old -enough to attain this glory? People have died -when they were young—much younger than she. -The little Waters girl died, and she was only nine. -The Child went to the funeral, but not with her -mother. She slipped into the kitchen and listened -at the door. When she told her mother that she -had gone her mother looked at her so strangely.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_99'>99</span>“Why did you want to go?” she said. The -Child could not tell.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It made me cry,” she answered, “but I felt -good, too. I want her to tell my brother that I -am pretty well, and that I hope he is the same, -when she gets to heaven. Do you suppose she -will get there by to-night?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They talked about her conduct on that occasion -so strangely and so long that she never spoke any -more with them about death or the life after it. -But she thought about these things.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She wondered whether Mary Waters remembered -the secret place they made together in a -hollow gate-post. Mary Waters had a way of -sometimes telling things not quite as they really -were. Did she do so now? Or had she told -enough lies to send her to hell? For liars inherit -hell. It is not that this fact has been impressed -upon her mind by others, but she has read it in -the Bible and heard it read.</p> - -<p class='c000'>There are strange things in the Bible. One is -commanded to refrain from doing so many things -that one never would do anyway. But those -<span class='pageno' id='Page_100'>100</span>things must have been done by the Israelites and -the Pharisees and the Hittites and the Publicans. -Then did God mean that the Americans must -keep the same laws? But Americans were free -and equal. They threw over the tea, and with -a wild whoop—wait! let us pretend!</p> - -<p class='c000'>This is Boston. It is still and quiet. Night -is dark all around. Soft and stealthy come footsteps—the -Indians! They gather from the -shadows of the trees and houses, they wave their -tomahawks exultantly, they glide to the wharf. -In their path stands a little girl in a blue-checked -apron. She falls upon her knees in terror.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Save me!” she cries. The chief laughs a -horrid laugh; he raises his tomahawk—the dog -barks loud and the Child nearly drops the peas -in her lap, so frightened she is.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I thought they were real! I thought they -were coming!” she whispers to herself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Let us think of pleasant things! Peas are so -small if you count them by ones! If people considered -whenever they gobbled peas so quickly -that every one had to be shelled by one poor, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_101'>101</span>tired little girl! But no, they eat them without -a thought of how she sat in the little tight -chair and rattled them into the pan. If they -were only rich enough to leave the chair and the -peas and the farm and go to a city! What -city? Oh, New York or Boston or Persia. In -Persia the days are full of richness and the -nights are Arabian. Along the streets walk -veiled and lovely women—does it matter that to -the Child their veils are of the dull blue cotton -that wreathes her mother’s hat? By all the Persian -monarchs, no!—driving black dogs and -white hinds, followed by turbaned slaves and -glaring eunuchs, with misty genii hovering in the -background. They enter a frowning portal—but -let us pretend!</p> - -<p class='c000'>This is Persia. The streets are narrow; the -people jostle and crowd to one side a little girl in -a blue-checked apron. She walks along unknown, -unnoticed. Wait! Who is this? It is a slave -in a turban with a scimitar flashing with jewels. -He bows low.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I am bidden to tell you that your presence -<span class='pageno' id='Page_102'>102</span>is desired by my master, lovely maiden!” The -lovely maiden looks haughtily at him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will follow you, Slave,” she says. They go -on to a low narrow door. The slave says a magic -word and the door swings open. Through a long -passage and a great hall they go. There bursts -upon them a radiance of light. Flowers fill the -air with an unearthly fragrance. Golden goblets -and ruby pitchers stand on silver salvers with -“dried fruit, cakes, and sweetmeats, which give an -appetite for drinking.” Lovely slave girls lead -the maiden to the bath, and attire her in rich and -costly robes. They seat her in a golden chair -and give her a bowl of seed-pearls to string. -(These are the pearls.) She lifts her lovely head -and says in a voice of silver music, “Where is -your master?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Lady,” says one of the slaves, bowing low, -“he comes.” She hears the feet of the approaching -prince; she dares not raise her eyes. How -will he look? What gift will he bring? She -sinks her hands deep in the pearls. Ah, what is -that? A great sweet-bough drops in the pan.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_103'>103</span>“Your gran’ma wants them peas!” says the -prince in genial rebuke. Alas! And did Haroun-al-Raschid -speak through his nose?</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Child stares at him, dazed.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_113.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>These are the pearls.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“These—these are pearls!” she says. “I am -stringing them for my girdle! Does your Highness -desire that I should wear this—this <em>carbuncle</em>?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His Highness laughs loud and long.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s a sweet-bough,” he chuckles, “and I -guess you better eat it right up, now.” One moment -of wavering: shall awful wrath come upon -this desecrator of the soul’s best rites, or good -<span class='pageno' id='Page_104'>104</span>fellowship and feasting be given him? She -scowls, she shrugs her aproned shoulders, she -glances from beneath her lashes, she smiles.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’ll give you half,” she announces. After all, -it is hardly probable that the prince would have -helped her shell the peas. And William Searles -will, if he <em>is</em> only the chore-boy. Vain hope!</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I got to drive the chickens ’round back,” he -demurs. “I can’t spend my time shellin’ peas. -Your gran’ma says if you don’t get ’em done -pretty soon you can’t go over to Miss Salome’s -this afternoon. She says you’re a dreadful slow -child!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This is the last straw. The Child rises with -what would indeed be a freezing dignity were it -not that with her rises the birthday-chair. -“William,” she begins. But more suddenly than -is consistent with her tone she sinks back. William -sits upon the grass shaking with laughter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You looked so awful funny, so awful funny!” -he gasps. The Child hangs for a moment between -tears and laughter. Then she accepts the -situation and laughs as merrily as the chore-boy</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_105'>105</span>“I was pretending I was a princess,” she explains. -“I——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ho!” rejoins William, “you ain’t like a princess! -You don’t look like the ones you tell about, -anyway! Why”—as she glares at him over the -apron, “your hair’s red, red! An’ your eyes are -kind o’ green, they are! An’ you’re just jam-packed -full o’ freckles! I guess I know well -enough how they look, and you ain’t like ’em!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The tears stand in her eyes, but she will not -let them fall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I don’t care, William Searles,” she says -bravely, “I may <em>look</em> freckled, but I don’t <em>feel so</em>! -And it’s better to know how they look than—” -But no! She is an honest Child, with all her -imaginings. She knows that it is better to look -like them than to know about them: better for -the maiden and the prince, at least. William -waits for the sentence. She begins again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“William Searles,” she says solemnly, “wouldn’t -you rather I could <em>tell</em> you about those princesses -than <em>look</em> like them?” William’s eyes sparkle -greedily.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_106'>106</span>“You bet!” he replies with fervor. The -Child sighs with relief.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“All right,” she says, “then don’t complain.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She is alone again, and only William’s faint -and fainter invitations to the chickens break the -silence. The peas fly into the pan. Suppose -she should be kept from Miss Salome’s! But no, -that shall not be. She looks ahead to the -happy afternoon, singing as she works.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And now, and now the time has come. The -dishes are wiped, the cat fed, and the fennel -picked for the long sermon to-morrow. She, her -very self, in her new dotted lawn walks carefully -up the hill to the big house, terraced and gravel-pathed. -She knocks timidly at the brass ring -and the tall colored butler lets her in. He is the -only indoor man-servant she has ever seen, and -she reverences him greatly. He smiles condescendingly -at her, as he smiles not upon all the -country people.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If Miss will walk up,” he says. She goes up -the soft-carpeted stairs into the upstairs drawing-room. -She draw’s a long breath of happiness and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_107'>107</span>wonder ever new, and makes her little curtsy<a id='t107'></a> to -Miss Salome.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Out of the dim delicious dusk of the room -come slowly the familiar treasures: the high polished -desk, the great piano, the marvelous service -of Delft that fills a monstrous sideboard in the -distance, the chairs, all silk and satin and shining -wood, the great pictures in gilt frames. In the -largest chair sits Miss Salome. Will the Child -ever tire of looking at her pale lined face, her silver -high-dressed hair, her beautiful hands sparkling -with rings, her haughty mouth, her tired, -troubled eyes? She must have been almost as -lovely as the Princess Angelica, once. But she -smiles so seldom. She puts out her hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And what has happened since last Saturday?” -she says.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Child laughs for pure joy. To talk, to -describe, to venture at analysis, to ask the why -and wherefore, to illustrate by gesture as vivid as -her speech—these things are her happiness. To -be suffered this joy in snatches is much, to have -it demanded, and for one whole afternoon! Here -<span class='pageno' id='Page_108'>108</span>is no one to reprove, no one to blame the idle -hands, no one to question the propriety of mimicry, -or to insist on her sitting in her little chair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Salome watches her flitting about the -dusky parlor, her reddish gold hair gleaming now -against the Delft blue, now against the polished -mahogany desk. She tells of the chickens that -lost their mother. She wanders about clucking -for her brood and cooing over the returned prodigals. -She walks across the room as William does—her -slouching gait, open mouth, drawling voice, -irresistibly perfect. She describes the shooting -star that seemed to her like a lost spirit, gone to -sorrow and the earth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It made me think of ‘Lucifer, son of the -morning, how art thou fallen!’” she says solemnly. -“I wonder how that star felt, Miss Salome?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There is a long pause. The lady sighs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Then, “You may read, if you like,” she says -at last.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Child’s face flushes for joy. She runs to -the book-cases and brings out a small brown -<span class='pageno' id='Page_109'>109</span>book. She fingers lovingly the tree-calf that -covers the precious pages, and opens them before -she finds her chair. She curls up on a great satin -ottoman and smooths the leaves. Where is the -farm? Where the peas? Where William? -They are less than shadows, more unreal than -dreams. Her voice trembles as she begins:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’And now, your Highness permitting, I shall -relate to your Majesty one of the most surprising -adventures ever known to your Majesty—’” -Ah, it is good to have been a child and perfectly -happy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>What do children know of life, she thinks, who -play with tops and dogs and kittens? There are -books in the world. And they own all lands -and seas and peoples, who own those printed -leaves. Even Miss Salome does not know as -much as the books. Even Miss Salome cannot -say such curious wonderful things. Why is Miss -Salome so good to her? In heaven, will they -see each other? “In my Father’s house are -many mansions.” Suppose she should be put in -Miss Salome’s? Will the “Arabian Nights” be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_110'>110</span>there? When she lifts her eyes from the book -they fall on an immense peacock-feather fan. It -glows on the wall, and the eyes dilate and tremble -and satisfy her hungry little soul with the -color she loves. On a small table near her stands -a sandal-wood cabinet. Its faint sweet smell -mingles with the spices and gums of the tale, and -should a Genius spring from the cover and bow -to the ground before them, she would not be surprised.</p> - -<p class='c000'>With a sigh of pleasure she releases the princess -and outwits the evil spirit.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’And now if your Majesty would care to -listen to the story of the Fisherman——’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That is enough,” says Miss Salome. “Are -you tired?” The Child’s eyes answer her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Then sing to me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What shall I sing?” says the Child. “’Lord -Lovell’”?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If you like,” answers Miss Salome.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Child rises and stands before the great -chair. Her face is raised and serious. She -knows only ballads, but to her they are opera -<span class='pageno' id='Page_111'>111</span>and symphony in one. She clasps her hands and -begins:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>Lord Lovell he stood at his castle gate,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>A-combing his milk-white steed,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>When out came Lady Nancy Bell,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>To wish her lover good spee-ee-eed,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>To wish her lover good speed.</em></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Her voice rings true as a bell. Miss Salome -smiles at the eager little face.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_121.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>“Now where are you going, Lord Lovell?” she said,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>“Now where are you going?” said she.</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>“I’m going away, dear Nancy Bell,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Strange countries for to see-ye-ye,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Strange countries for to see!”</em></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>She carries them through fateful verses and unconsciously -softens and saddens her voice at the -woful ending, where</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>They buried the lady in the nave of the church,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>They buried the lord in the choir,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>And out of her bosom there grew a red rose,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>And out of her lover’s a brier-ier-ier,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>And out of her lover’s a brier.</em></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_112'>112</span>Miss Salome applauds vigorously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“One more,” she begs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The Child’s heart grows big with happiness. -That she should love it so, and yet with it pleasure -others! It is too much joy. She will make -a special prayer to-night and thank God, as does -her grandmother, for unexpected bounty.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will sing, ‘Come with thy lute,’” she says. -It is a quaint, old-fashioned tune, and her voice -rises and falls, and reaches for the notes with an -almost pathetic feeling for their beauty:</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_122.jpg' alt='Moderato.' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>Come with thy lute to the fountain,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Sing me a song of the mountain,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Sing of the happy and free:</em>—</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>She looks at the lovely lady in the white satin -gown in the great gold frame before her. How -beautiful she must have been! She died when -she was very young. Her husband shot himself -with grief for her. She might have sung that -<span class='pageno' id='Page_113'>113</span>song to him—who knows? The Child chokes -and swallows her tears at the end of the song, -and when she looks at Miss Salome she sees that -her eyes, too, are full of tears.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I have made you cry! I am sorry—so -sorry!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Salome wipes her eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“If I make my guests unhappy, they will not -care to come again,” she says. “Ring for Peter, -dear child.” So the Child taps the bell, and -Peter comes gravely in with the beautiful silver -tray, and in a flutter of delight the Child forgets -the song and the picture. Miss Salome cuts the -dark frosted cake, and dishes into glass plates -the candied ginger, floating in syrup, and pours -out cups of real tea. And the Fairy Princess is -served with a banquet worthy of her dreams. -Oh, to be at last in Miss Salome’s mansion!</p> - -<p class='c000'>The clock chimes for half-past five. Heaven -is over. She brushes the crumbs to a little heap -on her gilt-rimmed plate.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I must go now, I think,” she says with obvious -effort. Her hostess smiles.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_114'>114</span>“But you will come next week?” she asks. -And the Child’s face lights up.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yes! I’ll surely come next week, <em>surely</em>,” -she replies with emphasis. So she goes around -to Miss Salome’s chair, and the beautiful ringed -hand raises her face and strokes her little freckled -cheek.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good-by, my Sunshine!” she says. The -Child catches the hand in a rush of loving worship -and kisses it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will never be cross to William Searles -again, never!” she cries. “I will be good to -everybody—even to stupid people!” Miss Salome -pinches her cheek and laughs.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the Child goes out and down the steps of -the terrace, rapt, wondering, lifted to a height of -love and admiration that keeps her little soul to -its sweetest, highest pitch for—ah, measure not -the time, I beg you! The children who are -older, how long do the glow and the flush remain -with them? They can only say, “There will be -another!” and wait for it as well and patiently -as may be.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_115'>115</span>The Child goes back to the life of everyday, -and embroiders its dull web with eyes of peacocks -and sifts into it the scent of sandal-wood, and -sets it weaving to the tune of ballads, quaint and -sweet. Yet she has taken into another’s web, -unknowing, a tiny scarlet thread of happiness, -that weaves through the tarnished cloth of silver -and blesses the pattern as it grows. And the -Master of the Looms has planned it all.</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_119'>119</span> - <h2 class='c005'>ARDELIA IN ARCADY</h2> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_129.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Throwing assorted refuse.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>When first the young lady from the -College Settlement dragged Ardelia -from her degradation—she was sitting -on a dirty pavement and throwing assorted -refuse at an unconscious policeman—like many -of her companions in misery, -she totally failed to realize -the pit from which she was -digged. It had never occurred -to her that her situation was anything less -than refined, and though, like most of us, she had -<span class='pageno' id='Page_120'>120</span>failed to come up to her wildest ideals of happiness, -in that respect she differed very little from -the young lady who rescued her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come here, little girl,” said the young lady -invitingly. “Wouldn’t you like to come with -me and have a nice, cool bath?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Naw,” said Ardelia, in tones rivaling the bath -in coolness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You wouldn’t? Well, wouldn’t you like -some bread and butter and jam?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wha’s jam?” said Ardelia conservatively.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, it’s—er—marmalade,” the young -lady explained. “All sweet, you know.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Naw!” and Ardelia turned away and fingered -the refuse with an air of finality that caused the -young lady to sigh with vexation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I thought you might like to go on a picnic,” -she said helplessly. “I thought all little girls -liked——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Picnic? When?” cried Ardelia, moved instantly -to interest. “I’m goin’!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She brushed the garbage from her dress—Ardelia -was of that emancipated order of women -<span class='pageno' id='Page_121'>121</span>who disapprove of the senseless multiplication of -feminine garments, and wore, herself, but one—and -regarded her rescuer impatiently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What’s the matter?” she asked. “I’m all -ready. Hump along!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We’ll go and ask your mother first, won’t -we?” suggested the young lady, a little bewildered -at this sudden change of attitude.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Jagged,” Ardelia returned laconically. “She’d -lift y’r face off yer! Is it the Dago picnic?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The young lady shuddered, and seizing the -hand which she imagined to have had least to do -with the refuse, she led Ardelia away—the first -stage of her journey to Arcady.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia’s origin, like that of the civilization of -ancient Egypt, was shrouded in mystery. At the -age of two months she had been handed to a policeman -by a scared-looking boy, who said vaguely -that he found her in the park under a bench. The -policeman had added her to the other foundling -waiting that day at headquarters, and carried -them to the matron of the institution devoted -to their interest. Around the other baby’s neck -<span class='pageno' id='Page_122'>122</span>was a medal of the Blessed Virgin, and a slip of -paper pinned to her flannel petticoat labeled her -Mary Katharine. The impartial order of the -institution therefore delivered Ardelia, who was -wholly unlabeled, to the Protestant fold, and one -of the scrubbing-women named her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Later she had taken up her residence with -Mrs. Michael Fahey, who had consented to add -to her precarious income by this means, and at -the age of four she became the official nurse of -Master John Sullivan Fahey. A terribly hot -August, unlimited cold tea, and a habit of playing -in the gutter in the noon glare proved too -much for her charge, and he died on his third -birthday. The ride to the funeral was the most -exciting event of Ardelia’s life. For years she -dated from it. Mrs. Fahey had so long regarded -her as one of the family, that though her occupation -was gone, and her board was no longer paid, -she was whipped as regularly and cursed as comprehensively, -in her foster-mother’s periodical -sprees, as if they had been closely related.</p> - -<p class='c000'>What time she could spare from helping Mrs. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_123'>123</span>Fahey in her somewhat casual household labor, -and running errands to tell that lady’s perennially -hopeful employers that her mother wasn’t -feeling well to-day, but would it do if she came -to-morrow, Ardelia spent in playing up and -down the street with a band of little girls, or, in -the very hottest days, sitting drowsy and vindictive -at the head of a flight of stone steps that led -into a down-stairs saloon. The damp, flat, beer-sweetened -air that rushed out as the men pushed -open the swing-doors was cool and refreshing to -her; she was in a position to observe any possible -customers at the three push-carts in her line -of vision, and could rouse a flagging interest in -life by listening to any one of the altercations -that resounded from the tenements night and -day. Drays clattered incessantly over the pavement, -peddlers shouted, sharp gongs punctuated -the steadier din. A policeman was almost always -in sight, and one of them, Mr. Halloran, had -more than once given her a penny for lemonade. -In the room above her head an Italian band practised -every evening, and then Ardelia was perfectly -<span class='pageno' id='Page_124'>124</span>happy, for she loved music. Often before the -band began, a hurdy-gurdy would station itself -at the corner, and Ardelia and the other little -girls would dance about, singly and in pairs, -shouting the tunes they knew, rejoicing in the -comparative coolness and the generally care-free -atmosphere. Ardelia was the lightest-footed of -them all; her hands held her skirts out almost -gracefully, her thin little legs flew highest. Sometimes -the saloon-keeper—they called him “Old -Dutchy”—would nod approval as Ardelia -skipped and pranced, and beckon her to him mysteriously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You trow your legs goot,” he would say. -“We shall see you already dancing, no? Here -is an olluf; eat her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Ardelia, who loved olives to distraction, -would nibble off small, sour, salty mouthfuls and -suck the pit luxuriously while she listened to the -Italian band.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Except for Mrs. Fahey’s errands, which never -carried her far off the street, Ardelia had never -left it in her life, and her journey to the Settlement-house -<span class='pageno' id='Page_125'>125</span>was one of interest to her. She was -a silent child, but for occasional fits of gabbling -and chattering with the little girls in the street; -and though she did not understand why the -young lady from the Settlement should cry when -she introduced her to two other ladies, nor why -so many messages should be left for her mother, -and so many local and general baths administered, -she said very little. She was not accustomed -to question fate, and when it sent her two -fried eggs—she refused to eat them boiled—for -her breakfast, she quietly placed them in the -credit column as opposed to the baths, and held -her peace.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Later, arrayed in starched and creaking garments -which had been made for a slightly smaller -child, she was transported to the station, and for -the first time introduced to a railroad car. She -sat stiffly on the red plush seat with furtive eyes -and sucked-in lips, while the young lady talked -reassuringly of daisies and cows and green grass. -As Ardelia had never seen any of these things, it -is hardly surprising that she was somewhat unenthusiastic; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_126'>126</span>but the young lady was disappointed -by this lack of ardor. She was so thoroughly -convinced of the essential right of every child to -a healthy country life, that she was almost disposed -to blame Ardelia for not sharing her eminently -creditable conviction.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You can roll in the daisies, my dear, and -pick all you want—all!” she urged eagerly. -But no answering gleam woke in Ardelia’s eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aw right,” she answered guardedly, and -stared into her lap.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Look out, dear, and see the fields and houses—see -that handsome dog, and see the little -pond!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia shot a quick glance at the blurring -green that dizzied her as it rushed by; the train -was a fast express making up for lost time. -Then with a scowl she resumed the contemplation -of her starched gingham lap. The swelteringly -hot day, and the rapid, unaccustomed -motion combined to afflict her with a strange -internal anticipation of future woe. Once last -summer, when she ate the liquid dregs of the ice-cream -<span class='pageno' id='Page_127'>127</span>man’s great tin, and fell asleep in the room -where her mother was frying onions, she had experienced -this same foreboding, and the climax of -that dreadful day lingered yet in her memory. -So she set her teeth and waited with stoical resignation -for the end, while the young lady babbled -of green fields, and wondered why the child -should be so sullen. Finally she laid it to homesickness, -and recovered her faith in human -nature.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At last they stopped. The young lady seized -her hand, and led her through the narrow aisle, -down the steep steps, across the little country-station -platform, and Ardelia was in Arcady.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A bare-legged boy in blue overalls and a wide -straw hat then drove them many miles along a -hot, dusty road, that wound endlessly through -the parched country fields. To the young lady’s -remark that they needed rain sadly, he replied, -“Yep!” and held his peace for the following -hour. Occasionally they passed another horse, -but for the most part the only sight or sound of -life was afforded by the hens clucking angrily as -<span class='pageno' id='Page_128'>128</span>the travelers drove them from their dust baths in -the powdery road. Released from her horror of -foreboding, Ardelia took a more apparent interest -in her situation, and would perhaps have -spoken if her chaperone had opened conversation; -but the young lady was weary of such efforts, disposed -to a headache from the blinding heat, and -altogether inclined to silence. At last they -turned into a driveway, and drew up before a -gray wooden house. Ardelia, cramped with sitting -still, for she had not altered her position -since she was placed stiffly on the seat between -her fellow-passengers, was lifted down and escorted -up the shingle-walk to the porch. A -spare, dark-eyed woman in a checked apron advanced -to meet them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Terrible hot to-day, ain’t it?” she sighed. -“I’m real glad to see you, Miss Forsythe. Won’t -you cool off a little before you go on? This is -the little girl, I s’pose. I guess it’s pretty cool to -what <em>she’s</em> accustomed to, ain’t it, Delia?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, I thank you, Mrs. Slater, I’ll go right on -to the house. Now, Ardelia, here you are in the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_129'>129</span>country. I’m staying with my friend in a big -white house about a quarter of a mile farther on. -You can’t see it from here, but if you want anything -you can just walk over. Day after to-morrow -is the picnic I told you about. You’ll see -me then, any way. Now run right out -in the grass and pick all the daisies -you want. Don’t be afraid; no one -will drive you off <em>this</em> grass!”</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_139.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Huh?</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>The force of this was lost on -Ardelia, who had never been -driven off any grass whatever, -but she gathered that she -was expected to walk out into -the thick, rank growth of -the unmowed side yard, and -strode downward obediently, turning when in the -exact center of the plot, for further orders.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now pick them! Pick the daisies!” cried -Miss Forsythe excitedly. “I want to see you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia looked blank.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Huh?” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_130'>130</span>“Gather them. Get a bunch. Oh, you poor -child! Mrs. Slater, she doesn’t know how!” -Miss Forsythe was deeply moved and illustrated -by picking imaginary daisies on the porch. Ardelia’s -quick eyes followed her gestures, and stooping, -she scooped the heads from three daisies and -started back with them, staring distrustfully into -the depths of the thick clinging grass as she -pushed through it. Miss Forsythe gasped.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No, no, dear! Pull them up! Take the -stem, too,” she explained. “Pick the whole -flower!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia bent over again, tugged at a thick-stemmed -clover, brought it up by the roots, recovered -her balance with difficulty, and assaulted -a neighboring daisy. On this she cut her hands, -and sucking off the blood angrily, she grabbed a -handful of coarse grass, and plowing through the -tangled mass about her feet, laid the spoils awkwardly -on the young lady’s lap.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Forsythe stared at the dirty, trailing -roots that stained her linen skirt and sighed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thank you, dear,” she said politely, “but I -<span class='pageno' id='Page_131'>131</span>meant them for you. I meant you to have a -bunch. Don’t you want them?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Naw!” said Ardelia decidedly, nursing her -cut hand and stepping with relief on the smooth -floor of the porch.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Forsythe’s eyes brightened suddenly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I know what you want,” she cried, “you’re -thirsty! Mrs. Slater, won’t you get us some of -your good, creamy milk? Don’t you want a -drink, Ardelia?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia nodded. She felt very tired, and the -glare of the sun seemed reflected from everything -into her dazed eyes. When Mrs. Slater appeared -with the foaming yellow glasses she wound her -nervous little hands about the stem of the goblet -and began a deep draught. She did not like it, -it was hard to swallow, and instinct warned her -not to go on with it; but all the thirst of a long -morning—Ardelia was used to drinking frequently—urged -her on, and its icy coldness enabled her -to finish the glass. She handed it back with a -deep sigh. The young lady clapped her hands.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There!” she cried. “Now, how do you like -<span class='pageno' id='Page_132'>132</span>real milk, Ardelia? I declare, you look like -another child already! You can have all you -want every day—why, what’s the matter?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>For Ardelia was growing ghastly pale before -them; her eyes turned inward, her lips tightened. -A blinding horror surged from her -toes upward, and the memory of the -liquid ice-cream and the frying -onions faded before the awful reality -of her present agony.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_142.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>A blinding horror surged from her toes upward.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Later, as she lay limp and white on -the slippery hair-cloth sofa in Mrs. Slater’s musty -parlor, she heard them discussing her situation.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There was a lot of Fresh Air children over -at Mis’ Simms’s,” her hostess explained, “and -they ’most all of ’em said the milk was too strong—did -you ever! Two or three of ’em was sick, -like this one, but they got to love it in a little -while. She will, too.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_133'>133</span>Ardelia shook her head feebly. She had learned -her lesson. If success, as we are told, consists -not in omitting to make mistakes, but in omitting -to make the same one twice, Ardelia’s treatment -of the milk question was eminently successful.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After a while Miss Forsythe went away, and at -her urgent suggestion Ardelia came out and sat -on the porch under the shade of a black umbrella. -She sat motionless, staring into the grass, lost in -the rapture of content that follows such a crisis -as her recent misery, forgetful of all her earthly -woes in the blessed certainty of her present calm. -In a few minutes she was asleep.</p> - -<p class='c000'>When she awoke she was in a strange place. -Outside the umbrella all was dusk and shadow. -Only a square white mist filled the place of the -barn, the tall trees loomed vaguely toward the -dark sky, the stars were few. As she gazed in -half-terror about her, a strange jangling came -nearer and nearer, and a great animal with swinging -sides, panting terribly, ran clumsily by, followed -by a bare-legged boy, whose thudding feet -sounded loud on the beaten path. Ardelia shrank -<span class='pageno' id='Page_134'>134</span>against the wall with a cry that brought Mrs. -Slater to her side.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“There, there, Delia, it’s only a cow. She won’t -hurt you. She gives the milk—” Ardelia shuddered—“and -the butter, too. Here’s some bread -and butter for you. We’ve had our supper, but I -thought the sleep would do you more good.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Still shaken by the shock of that panting, hairy -beast, Ardelia put out her hand for the bread and -butter, and ate it greedily. Then she stretched -her cramped limbs and looked over the umbrella. -On the porch sat a bearded man in shirt-sleeves -and stocking feet, his head thrown back against -his chair, his mouth open. He snored audibly. -Tipped back in another chair, his feet raised and -pressed against one of the supports of the porch -roof, sat a younger man. He was not asleep, for -he was smoking a pipe, but he was as motionless -as the other. Curled up on the steps was the boy -who had brought them from the station. Occasionally -he patted a mongrel collie beside him, -and yawning, stretched himself, but he did not -speak.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_135'>135</span>“That’s Mr. Slater,” said the woman softly, -“and the young man is my oldest son, William. -Henry brought you up with the team. They’re -out in the field all day, and they get pretty -tired. It gets nice an’ cool out here by evenin’, -don’t it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She leaned back and rocked silently to and fro, -and Ardelia waited for the events of the evening. -There were none. She wondered why the gas -was not lit in all that shadowy darkness, why the -people didn’t come along. She felt scared and -lonely. Now that her stomach was filled, and -her nerves refreshed by her long sleep, she was in -a condition to realize that aside from all bodily -discomfort she was sad—very sad. A new, unknown -depression weighed her down. It grew -steadily, something was happening, something -constant and mournful—what? Suddenly she -knew. It was a steady, recurrent noise, a buzzing, -monotonous click. Now it rose, now it fell, -accentuating the silence dense about it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Zig-a-zig! Zig-a-zig!</em>” then a rest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Zig-a-zig! Zig-a-zig-a-zig!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_136'>136</span>She looked restlessly at Mrs. Slater. “Wha’s -’at?” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That? Oh, those are katydids. I s’pose -you never heard ’em, that’s a fact. Kind o’ cozy, -I think. Don’t you like ’em?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Naw,” said Ardelia.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Another long silence intervened. The rocking-chair -swayed back and forth, and Mr. Slater -snored. Little bright eyes glowed and disappeared, -now high, now low, against the dark. It -will never be known whether Ardelia thought -them defective gaslights or the flashing, changing -electric signs that add color to the night advertisements -of her native city, for contrary to all -fictional precedent, she did not inquire with interest -what they were. She did not care, in fact.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After half an hour of the katydids William -spoke.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Nick Damon’s helpin’ in the south lot t’day,” -he observed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Was he?” asked his mother, pausing a moment -in her rocking.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yep.”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_137'>137</span>Again he smoked, and the monotonous clamor -was uninterrupted.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Zig-a-zig! Zig-zig! Zig-a-zig-a-zig!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Slowly, against the background of this machine-like -clicking, there grew other sounds, -weird, unhappy, far away.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Wheep, wheep, wheep!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This was a high, thin crying.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Buroom! Brrroom! broom!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>This was low and resonant and solemn. Ardelia -scowled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Wha’s ’at?” she asked again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That’s the frogs. Bull-frogs and peepers. -Never heard them, either, did ye? Well, that’s -what they are.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>William took his pipe out of his mouth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come here, sissy, ’n I’ll tell y’ a story,” he -said lazily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia obeyed, and glancing timorously at -the shadows, slipped around to his side.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Onc’t they was an ol’ feller comin’ ’long -cross-lots, late at night, an’ he come to a pond, -an’ he kinder stopped up an’ says to himself, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_138'>138</span>’Wonder how deep th’ ol’ pond is, anyhow?’ -He was just a leetle—well, he’d had a drop too -much, y’ see——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Had a what?” interrupted Ardelia.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He was sort o’ rollin’ ’round—he didn’t -know just what he <em>was</em> doin’——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! Jagged!” said Ardelia comprehendingly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I guess so. An’ he heard a voice singin’ out, -’Knee <em>deep</em>! Knee <em>deep</em>! Knee <em>deep</em>!’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>William gave a startling imitation of the peepers: -his voice was a high, shrill wail.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’Oh, well,’ s’ he, ‘’f it’s just knee deep I’ll -wade through,’ an’ he starts in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Just then he hears a big feller singin’ out, -‘Better go <em>rrrround</em>! Better go <em>rrround! better-goround</em>!’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>William rolled out a vibrating bass note that -startled the bull-frogs themselves.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’Lord!’ says he, ‘is it s’deep’s that? Well, -I’ll go round, then.’ ’N’ off he starts to walk -around.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’<em>Knee deep! Knee deep! Knee deep!</em>’ says -the peepers.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_139'>139</span>“An’ there it was. Soon’s he’d start to do -one thing, they’d tell him another. Make up -his mind he couldn’t, so he stands there still, -they do say, askin’ ’em every night which he -better do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Stands where?” Ardelia looked fearfully -behind her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, I d’know. Out in that swamp, mebbe.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Again he smoked, and the younger boy -chuckled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Time passed by. To Ardelia it might have -been minutes, hours, or generations. An unspeakable -boredom, an <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">ennui</span></i> that struck to the -roots of her soul, possessed her. Her muscles -twitched from nervousness. Her feet ached and -burned in the stiff boots.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Suddenly Mr. Slater coughed and arose. -“Well, guess I’ll be gettin’ to bed,” he said. -“Come on, boys. Hello, little girl! Come to -visit with us, hey? Mind you don’t pick poison -vine.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He shuffled into the house, and the boys followed -him in silence. Mrs. Slater led Ardelia -<span class='pageno' id='Page_140'>140</span>upstairs into a little hot room, and told her to get -into bed quick, for the lamp drew the mosquitoes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia kicked off her shoes and approached -the bed distrustfully. It sank down with her -weight and smelled hot and queer. Rolling -off, she stretched herself on the floor, and lay -there disconsolately. Sharp, quick stabs from the -swarming mosquitoes stung her to rage; she -tossed about, slapping at them with exclamations -that would have shocked Mrs. Slater. The eternal -chatter of the katydids maddened her. She -could not sleep. Across the swamp came the -wail of the peepers.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Knee deep! Knee deep! Knee deep!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>At home the hurdy-gurdy was playing, the -women were gossiping on every step, the lights -were everywhere—the blessed fearless gaslights—the -little girls were dancing in the breeze that -drew in from the East River, Old Dutchy was -giving Maggie Kelly an olive;—Ardelia slapped -viciously at a mosquito on her hot cheek, heard a -great June bug flopping into the room through -<span class='pageno' id='Page_141'>141</span>the loosely waving netting, and burst into tears -of pain and fright, wrapping her head tightly in -her gingham skirt.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the morning Miss Forsythe came over to -inquire after her charge’s health, accompanied by -another young lady.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“How do you do, my dear?” said the new lady -kindly. “How terribly the mosquitoes have -stung you! What makes you stay in the house, -and miss the beautiful fresh air? See that great -plot of daisies—does she know that she can pick -all she wants, poor little thing? I suppose she -never had a chance! Come out with me, Ardelia, -and let’s see which can pick the biggest -bunch.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And Ardelia, fortified by ham and eggs, went -stolidly forth into the grass and silently attacked -the daisies.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the middle of her bunch the new young lady -paused. “Why, Ethel, she isn’t barefoot!” she -cried. “Come here, Ardelia, and take off your -shoes and stockings directly. Shoes and stockings -in the country! <em>Now</em> you’ll know what comfort -<span class='pageno' id='Page_142'>142</span>is,” as she unlaced the boots rapidly on the -porch.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, she’s been barefoot in the city,” explained -Miss Forsythe, “but this will be different, of -course.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>And so it was, but not in the sense she intended. -To patter about bare-legged on the -clear, safe pavement, was one thing; to venture -unprotected into that waving, tripping tangle was -another. She stepped cautiously upon the short -grass near the house, and with jaw set and narrowed -lids felt her way into the higher growth. -The ladies clapped their hands at her happiness -and freedom. Suddenly she stopped, she shrieked, -she clawed the air with outspread fingers. Her -face was gray with terror.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, gee! Oh, gee!” she screamed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is it, Ardelia, what is it?” they -cried lifting up their skirts in sympathy, “a -snake?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Slater rushed out, seized Ardelia, half rigid -with fear, and carried her to the porch. They -elicited from her as she sat with her feet tucked -<span class='pageno' id='Page_143'>143</span>under her and one hand convulsively clutching -Mrs. Slater’s apron that something had rustled by -her “down at the bottom,” that it was slippery, -that she had stepped on it, and wanted to go -home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Toad,” explained Mrs. Slater briefly. “Only -a little hop-toad, Delia, that wouldn’t harm a -baby, let alone a big girl nine years old, like -you.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Ardelia, chattering with nervousness, wept -for her shoes, and sat high and dry in a rocking-chair -for the rest of the morning.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She’s a queer child,” Mrs. Slater confided to -the young ladies. “Not a drop of anything will -she drink but cold tea. It don’t seem reasonable -to give it to her all day, and I won’t do it, so she -has to wait till meals. She makes a face if I say -milk, and the water tastes slippery, she says, and -salty-like. She won’t touch it. I tell her its -good well water, but she just shakes her head. -She’s stubborn’s a bronze mule, that child. Just -mopes around. ’S morning she asked me when -did the parades go by. I told her there wa’n’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_144'>144</span>any but the circus, an’ that had been already. I -tried to cheer her up, sort of, with that Fresh Air -picnic of yours to-morrow, Miss Forsythe, and -s’she, ‘Oh, the Dago picnic,’ s’she, ‘will they have -Tony’s band?’</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She don’t seem to take any int’rest in th’ -farm, like those Fresh Air children, either. I -showed her the hens an’ the eggs, an’ she said it -was a lie about the hens layin’ ’em. ‘What d’you -take me for?’ s’she. The idea! Then Henry -milked the cow, to show her—she wouldn’t believe -that, either—and with the milk streamin’ -down before her, what do you s’pose she said? -‘You put it in!’ s’she. I never should ’a’ -believed that, Miss Forsythe, if I hadn’t -heard it.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, she’ll get over it,” said Miss Forsythe -easily, “just wait a few days. Good-by, Ardelia, -eat a good supper.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But this Ardelia did not do. She gazed fascinated -at Mr. Slater, who loaded his fork with cold -green peas, shot them into his mouth, and before -disposing of them ultimately added to them half -<span class='pageno' id='Page_145'>145</span>a slice of rye bread and a great gulp of tea in one -breath, repeating this operation at regular intervals -in voracious silence. She regarded William, -who consumed eight large molasses cookies and -three glasses of frothy milk, as a mere afterthought -to the meal, gulping furiously. He never spoke. -Henry she dared not look at, for he burst into -laughter whenever she did, and cried out, “You -put it in! You put it in!” which irritated her -exceedingly. But she knew that he was biting -great round bites out of countless slices of buttered -bread, and in utter silence. Now Ardelia -had never in her life eaten in silence. Mrs. Fahey, -when eating, gossiped and fought alternately -with Mr. Fahey’s old, half-blind mother; her son -Danny, in a state of chronic dismissal from his -various “jobs,” sang, whistled and performed -clog dances under the table during the meal; -their neighbor across the narrow hall shrieked her -comments, friendly or otherwise; and all around -and above and below resounded the busy noise of -the crowded, clattering city street. It was the -breath in her nostrils, the excitement of her nervous -<span class='pageno' id='Page_146'>146</span>little life, and this cold-blooded stoking took -away her appetite, never large.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Through the open door the buzz of the katydids -was beginning tentatively. In the intervals -of William’s gulps a faint bass note warned them -from the swamp:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Better go rrround! Better go round!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Slater filled their plates in silence. Henry -slapped a mosquito and chuckled interiorly at -some reminiscence. A cow-bell jangled sadly out -of the gathering dusk.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia’s nerves strained and snapped. Her -eyes grew wild.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Fer Gawd’s sake, <em>talk</em>!” she cried sharply. -“Are youse dumbies?”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>The morning dawned fresh and fair; the trees -and the brown turf smelled sweet, the homely -barnyard noises brought a smile to Miss Forsythe’s -sympathetic face, as she waited for Ardelia -to join her in a drive to the station. But Ardelia -did not smile. Her eyes ached with the great -green glare, the strange scattered objects, the long -<span class='pageno' id='Page_147'>147</span>unaccustomed vistas. Her cramped feet wearied -for the smooth pavements, her ears hungered for -the dear familiar din. She scowled at the winding, -empty road; she shrieked at the passing -oxen.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At the station Miss Forsythe shook her limp -little hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Good-by, dear,” she said. “I’ll bring the -other little children back with me. You’ll enjoy -that. Good-by.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I’m comin’, too,” said Ardelia.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why—no, dear—you wait for us. You’d -only turn around and come right back, you -know,” urged Miss Forsythe, secretly touched by -this devotion to herself.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come back nothin’,” said Ardelia doggedly. -“I’m goin’ home.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why—why, Ardelia! Don’t you really like -it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Naw, it’s too hot.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Forsythe stared.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But Ardelia, you don’t want to go back to -that horrible smelly street? Not truly?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_148'>148</span>“Betcher life I do!” said Ardelia.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The train steamed in; Miss Forsythe mounted -the steps uneasily, Ardelia clinging to her hand.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s so lovely and quiet,” the young lady -pleaded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia shuddered. Again she seemed to hear -that fiendish, mournful wailing:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Knee deep! Knee deep! Knee deep!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It smells so good, Ardelia! All the green -things!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Good! that hot, rustling breeze of noonday, -that damp and empty evening wind!</p> - -<p class='c000'>They rode in silence. But the jar and jolt of -the engine made music in Ardelia’s ears; the -crying of the hot babies, the familiar jargon of -the newsboy:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“N’Yawk moyning paypers! Woyld! Joynal!” -were a breath from home to her little -cockney heart.</p> - -<p class='c000'>They pushed through the great station, they -climbed the steps of the elevated track, they jingled -on a cross-town car. And at a familiar corner -Ardelia slipped loose her hand, uttered a -<span class='pageno' id='Page_149'>149</span>grunt of joy, and Miss Forsythe looked for her in -vain. She was gone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But late in the evening, when the great city -turned out to breathe, and sat with opened shirt -and loosened bodice on the dirty steps; when the -hurdy-gurdy executed brassy scales and the lights -flared in endless sparkling rows; when the trolley -gongs at the corner pierced the air, and feet -tapped cheerfully down the cool stone steps of -the beer-shop, Ardelia, bare-footed and abandoned, -nibbling at a section of bologna sausage, -secure in the hope of an olive to come, cakewalked -insolently with a band of little girls behind -a severe policeman, mocking his stolid gait, -to the delight of Old Dutchy, who beamed approvingly -at her prancings.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ja, ja, you trow out your feet goot. Some -day we pay to see you, no? You like to get -back already?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Ardelia performed an audacious <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">pas seul</span></i> and -reached for her olive.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ja, danky shun, Dutchy,” she said airily, and -as the hurdy-gurdy moved away, and the oboe of -<span class='pageno' id='Page_150'>150</span>the Italian band began to run up and down the -scale, she sank upon her cool step, stretched her -toes and sighed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Gee!” she murmured, “N’Yawk’s the -place!”</p> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_153'>153</span> - <h2 class='c005'>EDGAR, THE CHOIR BOY UNCELESTIAL</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>You all know how they look in the pictures—enlarged -photogravures, mostly: -they have appealing violet eyes and -drooping mouths and oval faces. They tip their -heads back and to the side, and there is usually a -broad beam of light falling across their little official -nighties. People frame them in Flemish oak -and hang them over the piano, and little girls -long to resemble them.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Edgar was not that kind. So greatly did -he differ, in fact, that even the choirmaster, who -ought to have known better, was deceived, and -discovered him with difficulty. When that gentleman -confronted them in the parish house, a -mob of suspicious little boys, shoving, growling, -snickering, and otherwise fulfilling their natures, -he promptly selected Tim Mullaly, who possessed -to an amazing degree the violet eyes and the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_154'>154</span>drooping mouth and the oval face, as his first -soprano. The choirmaster was young in years -and his profession.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But Tim refused to sing the scale alone, and as -the others scorned to accompany him in this exercise, -Mr. Fellowes, determinedly patient, suggested -in the hilarious “come-on-boys!” fashion -consecrated to childhood by adults, that they -should all join in some popular melody, to limber -them up and dispel their uneasiness.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_164.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>But Tim refused to sing the scale alone.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_155'>155</span>“What shall we sing?” he called out breezily, -from the piano-stool, faintly indicating a “ragtime” -rhythm with his left hand, still facing -them as he searched the forbidding countenances -before him for a gleam of friendship.</p> - -<p class='c000'>After all, they were human boys, and they -could all sing after a fashion, or they would not -have been induced by relatives who had read the -qualifications for choir membership to attend this -trying function.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“’Hot time!’” burst from one of the youngsters.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“All right!” and the inviting melody drew -them in; soon they were shouting lustily. Raucous -altos, nasal sopranos, fatal attempts to compass -a bass—at any rate, they were started. -The verse was over, the chorus had begun, when -a sudden sound sent the choirmaster’s heart to his -throat, his hands left the keys. Into the medley -of coarse, boyish shouting dropped a silvery -thread of purest song, a very bird-note. For a -moment it flowed on the level of the chorus, then -suddenly, with an indescribable leap, a slurring -<span class='pageno' id='Page_156'>156</span>rush, it rose to an octave above and led them all. -The choirmaster twirled around on the stool.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Who’s that? Which boy is singing up -there?” he demanded excitedly. There was no -reply. They grinned consciously at each other; -one could imagine them all guilty.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Come, come, boys! Don’t be silly—who -was it?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Silence, of the most sepulchral sort. Mr. Fellowes -shrugged his shoulders, swung round again, -and started the second verse. They dashed -through it noisily; he picked out here and there -a sweet little treble, one real alto. But his ears -were pricked for something better, and presently -it came. The rhythm was too enticing.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>Please, oh, please, oh, don’t you let me fall——</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“By George, he’s a human blackbird!”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>You’re all mine, an’ I love you best of all——</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“That’s high C!”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>An you mus’ be my man, ’r I’ll have no man at all——</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>The choirmaster burst into a joyous if somewhat -reedy tenor.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>There’ll be a hot time in the old town to-night!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_157'>157</span>He whirled about, still singing, and caught the -ecstatic, dreamy gaze of Tim Mullaly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s you!” he cried, pouncing on him. Tim -giggled feebly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yessir,” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now sing this scale, and I’ll give you five cents.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>An envious sigh quavered through the parish -hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Tim threw back his head and opened his drooping -mouth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Do, re——</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was a flash of blue gingham, a snarl of -rage, a sound as of fifty pounds of small boy suddenly -seated on the floor.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where’s yer fi’ cents?” a new voice inquired -easily.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The choirmaster perceived with amazement -that the owner of the voice, a freckled boy with -an excessively <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">retroussé</span></i> nose, was sitting on the -prostrate Tim.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What is the meaning of this? Get up!” he -said sternly. “What’s your name? I can’t have -any of this sort of thing in my choir!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_158'>158</span>The freckled boy did not rise. In fact, he -seated himself more comfortably on Master Mullaly, -and demanded again:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where’s yer fi’ cents?”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_168.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Where’s yer fi’ cents?</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>The choirmaster stepped forward and seized the -offender’s collar. As his fingers tightened, the -captive burst into the chorus of the moment before—it -was the blackbird voice! So obstinate -was the choirmaster’s first impression that he -looked instinctively at the fallen Tim to catch -the notes, but Tim was struggling meekly but -firmly for breath, and this free trilling came from -above him. The choirmaster relaxed his hold.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_159'>159</span>“It was you all the time!” he said in a stupor -of surprise.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Yep,” replied the singer, “it was me. Did -yer think it was him?” with a slight jounce to -indicate his victim.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Get up, won’t you, and sing me something -else,” the choirmaster urged. The boy rose -promptly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What’ll I sing?” he returned amicably. -There had been a different tone in the choirmaster’s -voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Happy Home! Happy Home!” the crowd -demanded. They had stood to one side in the -most neutral manner during the brief struggle -that had laid Tim low, and listened respectfully -to the brief colloquy that followed. It was evident -that past experience had suggested this -attitude on their part.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The choirmaster looked relieved. He had no -narrow prejudices, but he realized that a hymn -like “My Happy Home” comes with good effect -from the parish-hall windows.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where’s your mouth organ?” demanded the -<span class='pageno' id='Page_160'>160</span>freckled one of a larger boy in the -crowd. The latter promptly produced -the instrument in question, -cuddled it in both hands a moment -after the fashion of the virtuoso, -and drew forth the jerky and complex -series of strains peculiar to it. -It was evidently a prelude—a -tune vaguely familiar to the choirmaster. -Suddenly the boy’s voice -burst into this sombre background:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>I’d leave my yappy yome fer you,</em></div> - <div class='line in10'><em>Oo-oo-oo-oo!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_170.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>I’d leave my yappy yome fer you, Oo-oo-oo-oo!</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>The choirmaster sighed ecstatically. -A voice so tender, so soft, so rich in appealing -inflections he had never heard. The repeated -vowels cooed, they caressed, they allured.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>You’re the nices’ man n’ I ever knoo,</em></div> - <div class='line in16'><em>Oo-oo-oo-oo!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>If you remember how Madame Melba cooes, -“Edgardo! Edgardo-o-o!” when she sings the -mad scene from “Lucia,” you will have an idea -<span class='pageno' id='Page_161'>161</span>of the liquid, slipping notes of that snub-nosed, -freckled boy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What’s your name?” asked the choirmaster -respectfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It appeared at first to be Egg-nog, but resolved -into Edgar Ogden under careful cross-examination, -and its owner agreed to attend three -weekly rehearsals and two Sunday services for the -princely salary of twenty-five cents a week, the -same to be increased in proportion to his progress.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Subsequent efforts proved that it was utterly -hopeless to attempt to teach him to read -music. When Tim Mullaly and the stupidest -alto in the United States—as the choirmaster assured -him—could stumble through what was considerately -known as a duet at sight, and that was -the work of many months, Edgar was still learning -his solos by ear. It was wasted effort to insist, -and the choirmaster spent long hours and -nearly wore his forefinger to the bone, fixing in -his pupil’s mind the succession of notes in anthems -and <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Te Deums</span></i>. Once learned, however, he never -<span class='pageno' id='Page_162'>162</span>forgot them, and Mr. Fellowes thrilled with pride -as the silver stream of his voice flowed higher, -higher, above the organ, beyond the choir at his -side, till the people in the church sighed and -craned their necks to look at the wonderful boy.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_172.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>As a matter of fact, they looked, most of them, at Tim.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>As a matter of fact, they looked, most of them, -at Tim Mullaly, who, fresh from his Saturday -bath, in his little cassock and cotta, realized the -dreams of the most exigent lithographer. He -stood next to Edgar, and owing to a certain weakness -of mind invariably followed with his lips the -entire libretto, so to speak, of the work in hand. -As his appealing expression and violet eyes were -undetachable, he had all the effect of the soloist, -and received most of the credit from that vast -majority who fail to distinguish one little boy, -like one Chinaman, from another, unless he possesses -<span class='pageno' id='Page_163'>163</span>some such salient feature as Tim’s pleading -gaze.</p> - -<p class='c000'>This little apprehension was mercifully unsuspected -by Edgar, otherwise it is to be feared that -the services of a physician would have been required -in the Mullaly household. Not that Edgar -had any professional pride in his voice. He possessed, -according to his own ideas, many more valuable -and decorative qualities. His power of song -was entirely hereditary, and came to him from his -father, who was of English descent. The elder Mr. -Ogden, whom rumor reported to run frequent risks -of being bitten like a serpent and stung like an -adder at the last, had mounted to a dizzy height in -the Knights of Pythias entirely through his voice, -a sweet and powerful tenor, and was accustomed -to spend the greater part of his time in committing -to memory and practising dramatic songs of a -highly moral variety with choruses on this order:</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>‘You lie! I saw you steal that ace!’</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>A crashing blow right in the face—</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>A pistol shot and death’s disgrace</em></div> - <div class='line in4'><em>Was in that pack of cards!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_164'>164</span>At the proper point, a friend in another room -would shoot off a blank cartridge to a stormy -accompaniment on the Pythian piano, and the -Knights would become so appreciative that the -soloist, to borrow a classical phrase, rarely got -home until morning. What time Mr. Ogden -found himself able to spare from getting up his -repertoire was judiciously employed in borrowing -money for the purchase of new articles of regalia, -for with the Pythians to rise was to shine.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His elder son Samuel, familiarly known as -Squealer, inherited both his father’s tendencies, -and was in great demand among the saloons and -pool-rooms, where he sang ballads of a tender -and moral nature, dealing mostly with the Home, -and the sanctity of the family relation in general. -One of these in especial, in which Squealer assumed -a hortatory attitude and besought an imaginary -parent to “take her back, Dad,” adding -in a melting baritone,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>She’s my mother and your wife!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>so affected a certain bar-room <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">habitué</span></i>, whose -habit of chasing his family through the tenement -<span class='pageno' id='Page_165'>165</span>with a carving-knife had led them to move out of -town, that he had been known to lay his head on -the bar and weep audibly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was a moot point among his friends as to -which was Squealer’s real <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">chef d’œuvre</span></i>, the song -just mentioned or another which ran,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>You’ll only have one mother, boy,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>You can’t treat her too well!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Very often after singing this Squealer would -become too affected to endure the thought of -what the song described as “the old home, -empty now,” and would repair to some scene -which drew less heavily on the emotions, thus -assuring a sleepless if wrathful night to Mrs. Ogden, -and fluent altercation on his return to the -old home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mrs. Ogden was not musical herself, and devoted -most of her energies to fine laundry work, -a less emotional but more lucrative occupation. -Edgar’s professional duties interested her chiefly -by reason of the weekly salary, now grown to -fifty cents, of which one-tenth was allowed him -for his private purse, the remainder being applied -<span class='pageno' id='Page_166'>166</span>to the very obvious necessities of the household. -His consequent position as wage-earner was -firmly established, and his mother, though she -cherished a natural contempt for the mental calibre -of any young man who considered Edgar’s -voice worth fifty cents a week, saw to it that so -remunerative an organ received all the consideration -it deserved.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_176.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Shiny storm rubbers were urged upon the artist’s reluctant feet.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>To Mr. Ogden’s undisguised horror, two new -suits of under flannels were purchased at the beginning -<span class='pageno' id='Page_167'>167</span>of the winter, and shiny storm rubbers -were urged upon the artist’s reluctant feet on -every slushy day. The most unconvincing cough -was rewarded with black licorice, purchased from -the general household fund, and when Edgar had -the measles, the Prince of Wales, to use Mr. Ogden’s -irritated phrase, might have been glad to -taste the mutton broth and cocoa that fattened -that impudent kid.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_177.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>She was not in the habit of applying her disciplinary measures to the throat.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Nor was her system limited to this soft indulgence, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_168'>168</span>as the occasion of one of the choirmaster’s -visits proved. Fearful lest the purpose of his -call should become evident too abruptly, he began -by one of his customary eulogies of his first -soprano’s voice. She received his enthusiasm -coldly, indicated forcibly her own lack of musical -ability, and boasted, with a pride inexplicable to -one who has not been accustomed to consider -this gift synonymous with penitentiary qualifications, -that she could not carry a tune. On his -mentioning somewhat diffidently that Edgar’s -fines for tardiness, absence, etc., must in the nature -of things make appreciable inroads upon his -salary, the interview assumed a different aspect.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Wiping her hands on her apron, Mrs. Ogden -assured the choirmaster that if Edgar wasn’t -earning his wages she’d attend to that part of it, -all right. So intent was her expression that he -felt obliged to put in a plea for gentleness, on -the ground that such a delicate mechanism as -the human throat could not be too carefully -treated. Mrs. Ogden assured him that she was -not in the habit of applying her disciplinary -<span class='pageno' id='Page_169'>169</span>measures to the throat, and -the audience was at an end. -The day happened to be Saturday, -and at the evening rehearsal -it seemed to the choirmaster -that things had never -gone so smoothly. After all, -he thought, it needed a mother -to reason with the boys—he -had made several calls of the -same nature that week—a -mother knew best how to influence -them. And he was -abundantly justified in his -conclusions.</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_179.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>A mild and stolid youth.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>On Sunday afternoon Edgar -marched into the church, impassive -and uninteresting to the outward vision, -with Tim beside him, rapt and effective. Edgar -stared vacantly into space, his feet marked the -time at the proper distance from the crucifer, a -mild and stolid youth, who could never understand -why it was that just as he turned the corner -<span class='pageno' id='Page_170'>170</span>and began to climb the steps to the choir-stalls -his cassock should suddenly tighten below the -knees and almost throw him. Edgar’s partner -in the column could have informed him, but prudence -rendered him uncommunicative.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>The brightest hopes we cherish here,</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>How fast they tire and faint!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Edgar’s brows met, he took a longer stride in -reaching for his B flat, and the crucifer grasped -his pole nervously and broke step a moment—his -cassock had caught again.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>How many a spot defiles the robe</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>That wraps an earthly saint!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“He sings like an angel,” the rector mused. -“How clumsy that Waters boy is!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Once through with the Psalter, which he -loathed because he was not always certain of his -pointing, and could not endure Tim’s look of horror -at his occasional slips, Edgar, having hunched -his shoulders at just the angle to prevent the -tenor behind him from looking across into the -transept, and ostentatiously opened his service at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_171'>171</span>the <i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Nunc dimittis</span></i>, so that Tim might by his -innocent nudging and indications of his own -<i><span lang="la" xml:lang="la">Magnificat</span></i> page call a frown and a fine from the -choirmaster, devoted himself to a study of the -rose-window over the transept.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The decoration of this window was a standing -subject of quarrel between him and the first alto, -Howard Potter. Edgar had advanced the somewhat -untenable proposition that the various figures -in the stained-glass windows represented the -successive rectors and choirmasters of St. Mark’s. -Howard had objected that the dedications under -the windows referred (as he had discovered by -adroit questions that gave his informants no -idea whatever of what he was driving at) to persons -who had never held office of any kind in the -church.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Edgar had then fallen back on the theory that -the figures were portraits of the persons whom the -windows commemorated. Howard triumphantly -queried why, then, should the legend, “Sacred to -the memory of Walter, beloved husband of Mary -Bird Ferris,” appear under a tall woman in dark -<span class='pageno' id='Page_172'>172</span>green glass with a most feminine amount of hair -and a long red sash? Edgar was staggered, but -suddenly recalled his father’s glowing account of -a costume ball given by the Knights of Pythias, -in which many of the Knights appeared in women’s -clothes, one in particular, the proprietor of a -fish market, having rented a long and flowing wig -the better to deceive his fellow-Knights and their -delighted guests. This had impressed Edgar as -intensely humorous; he greatly enjoyed picturing -the scene to his imagination, and he strengthened -his wavering infallibility by declaring that the -beloved husband of Mary Bird Ferris was beyond -doubt a Pythian in costume.</p> - -<p class='c000'>This had silenced Howard for a week, but one -afternoon at evensong, just before the electric bell -sounded in the robing-room to summon them to -the hall, he had rapidly inquired in a hissing -whisper, “Who that white puppy carryin’ the -flag in the round window on the side, where the -bird was, was a picture of?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The bird was the lectern-eagle, and neither of -the antagonists had ever seen a lamb. Edgar -<span class='pageno' id='Page_173'>173</span>had recognized the fact that it was a poorly drawn -puppy, and he did not believe that it could possibly -have balanced in one crooked-up knee and -at that perilous angle any such banner as the artist -had given it. It was also crushingly apparent -to him that no Knight of Pythias, with all the -assistance in the world, could transform himself -into such a woolly, curly, four-legged object as -that.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_183.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Who that white puppy carryin’ the flag ... was.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Then why should the brass plate beneath it declare -that this rose-window was placed in “loving -memory of Alice Helen Worden, who departed -this life June nineteenth, eighteen hundred and -ninety”? That was no name for a puppy, to -<span class='pageno' id='Page_174'>174</span>begin with. The whole affair irritated Edgar -exceedingly. He saw no explanation whatever. -He perceived that he should have to fight the -first alto. This was not only a great responsibility -in itself, but the necessity of evading the parental -eye added to the nervous strain, and the consciousness -that on this particular Sunday afternoon Mr. -Ogden occupied one of the rear pews, with the idea -of seeing how he behaved during service, and subsequently -accompanying him home, so weighed -upon the spirits of the first soprano that William -Waters accomplished the choir steps, in the recessional, -without a stumble.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Throughout the service Edgar was as one in a -dream. His vision was turned inward, and he -even forgot his effective trick of frightening the -choirmaster into cold chills by looking vacantly -uncertain of the proper moment to take up the -choir’s share of the responses. The fact that he -invariably came in at the precise beat had never -fortified Mr. Fellowes against that nervous shudder -as he saw his first soprano’s mouth open hesitatingly -two seconds before the time. To-day he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_175'>175</span>was spared all anxiety. Edgar’s voice and Tim’s -eyes were the perfection of tuneful devotion.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>And blèss thine in-hèr-i-tànce!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>they implored softly. Neither of them had the remotest -idea what inheritance meant—they would -have besought as willingly a blessing for irrelevance -or inelegance; but to the assistant clergyman, -whose nervous scratching of his nose, while -waiting for the alms-basin to reach him, was to -Edgar and Tim as definite and eagerly awaited a -part of the service as any other detail, the slow-syllabled -Gregorian cadence brought the word in -a sudden new light and he made it the text for a -sermon so successful as to get him, a little later, -a parish of his own. This leads us to many interesting -conclusions, musical and other.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The rector noticed with pleasure the seedy-looking -man in the back of the church: he was -just then smarting a little under the accusation of -“aristocratic tendencies”: a body of conservatives -had never approved of the boy-choir. He hoped -to get the man into the Brotherhood of St. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_176'>176</span>Andrew, if he were allied to no other organization.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Mr. Ogden, as we know, was on business of his -own—business that kept him glaring fixedly in -the rector’s direction, which encouraged that good -man still further. It is to be doubted if the -Brotherhood would have appealed to him, however. -Not that he would have been hindered by -any narrow sectarian tendencies. Mrs. Ogden, -who did up the shirt-waists of the Presbyterian -minister’s daughter, was by her presented regularly -with a missionary bank in the form of a -<em>papier-maché</em> cottage with a chimney imitating -red brick; and Edgar, employing a Napoleonic -strategy, triumphantly attended the Methodist -Christmas festivals and the Baptist Sunday-school -picnics, the latter society offering a merry-go-round -on a larger scale, the former providing the -infant faithful with more practicable presents and -larger candy-bags. Squealer, moreover, had sung -“The Holy City” more than once for the Congregational -Christian Endeavor Society, so that -Mr. Ogden felt, with a certain justice, that his -<span class='pageno' id='Page_177'>177</span>church connection did him credit on the whole, -and excused himself from any undue energy in -that direction.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He watched his son keenly, but Edgar’s ecclesiastical -demeanor was without a flaw. Moreover, -his plans were gradually maturing. He -sang <em>Amen</em> at proper intervals and by a process -of unconscious cerebration managed to get between -the organist and the tenor, who depended -on Mr. Fellowes to mark the time for him with -his left hand, and in consequence of being unable -to see him, bungled his offertory solo; but his -thoughts were otherwhere. He had decided to -slip out of the south transept door, thus eluding -parental pursuit, and fight Howard Potter in his -own back yard before he slept. He would practise -upon his victim a recent scientific acquisition -proudly styled by him “the upper-cut,” which he -had learned from an acquaintance at the cost of -ten cents and three sugar-cookies.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At this point the anthem-prelude drew him to -his feet. He had saved his voice, according to -directions, for his solo, and in the waiting hush -<span class='pageno' id='Page_178'>178</span>every word flowed, soft and pure, to the end of -the church.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Mercy and truth, mercy and truth, mercy—</em>” -Ah, that exquisite soft swoop downward! The -organ rippled on contentedly, a continuation of -Edgar’s flutelike tones—“<em>and truth are me-et -together</em>!” There was all the richness of a woman’s -voice, all the passionless clearness of a -boy’s, all the morning innocence of a child’s.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It occurred to him suddenly that the north -transept would be safer—it was on the side -farthest from home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Righteousness and peace, righteousness and -peace have kissèd each other!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He wondered if Howard had learned the upper-cut -since their last encounter.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Tim’s face was as the face of an angel; a long -slanting ray from the rose-window fell across his -curls.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>Have kissèd each other</em>,” Edgar sighed softly. -“<em>Have kissèd each other</em>—” the caressing tones -melted into the organ’s, whispered once more, -“<em>each other</em>,” and died lingeringly. A long -<span class='pageno' id='Page_179'>179</span>breath, an audible “Ah-h-h!” drifted through -the church. The choirmaster kicked his feet -together under the organ for joy. He little -knew that at that very moment the future of -his vested choir was swinging lightly in the -balance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>But such was the fact. Fate, who links together -events seemingly isolated, smoothed Edgar’s -way to his fight, but allowed him to be -beaten. If this had not happened, his wrath -would not have vented itself in hectoring a bad-tempered -bass at the Wednesday rehearsal, by -scampering in front of him and mimicking with -wonderful accuracy his gruff, staccato voice.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>He taketh up the isles—as a ver-ry—little -thing!</em>” mocked Edgar.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Shut up!” growled the bass.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>A ver-ry lit-tle thing!</em>” Edgar continued -malignantly, slipping across his victim’s path.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, all right, young feller!” called the bass, -enraged at the grins and applause of the other -men, “all right! Just you wait till Sunday, -that’s all!” If Edgar had not teased him so, he -<span class='pageno' id='Page_180'>180</span>would not have added: “I know what’ll happen -then, if you don’t.”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_190.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>You’re going to be bounced, that’s what.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“What?” Edgar inquired derisively, catching -up with him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You’re going to be bounced, that’s what,” -said the bass irritably.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aw, come off! I ain’t either!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_181'>181</span>“Well, you ought to be, the whole pack of -you,” the bass continued decidedly. “Bag and -baggage! And a good riddance, too. No choirboy -camping-out <em>this</em> summer!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Edgar dropped behind and mused. “Who -told yer?” he called.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ask Fellowes—and if he don’t lick you, I -will!” retorted the bass, making a quick grab, -which Edgar easily evaded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He summoned his mates immediately; the -question was laid before them. Had they heard -that they were to be bounced? Did they believe -that the two weeks’ camping-out, the object -of all their endurance and loyalty, the prize of -their high calling, was to be discontinued? Tim -was deputed to inquire on Saturday afternoon. -He returned disconsolate; they shoved each other -significantly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What’d he say? What’d he say?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He says mos’ prob’ly not. Says it costs too -much. Says maybe a picnic——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Aw! old chump! Goin’ to bounce us, -too?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_182'>182</span>“I dunno. I guess so. I didn’t ask him that. -I just says to him, ‘Aw, say, Mr. Fellowes, ain’t -us boys goin’ campin’?’ An’ he says, ‘I guess -not this year, Tim, mos’ prob’ly. Maybe a picnic——”</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_192.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Well, I bet he don’t bounce me!</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, I bet he don’t bounce me! I betcher -that, I betcher, now!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Edgar strutted before them. They regarded -him with interest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Whatcher goin’ to do?” they asked respectfully.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_183'>183</span>“What’ll I do? I’ll—I’ll bounce myself!” -he called over his shoulder, as he strode home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His moody air during supper convinced Mr. -Ogden that something was up. Ever since he -had discovered Edgar’s demand for an additional -ten cents a Sunday, on the ground that his mother -thought him worth more, and his later daring -strike for five cents further salary, which the -choirmaster had innocently considered abundantly -justified and paid out of his own pocket, Mr. -Ogden, who, having heard rumors of wild dissipations -in the peanut and root-beer line, had pounced -upon his son returning plethoric from pay day, -and promptly annexed the extra fifteen cents, was -convinced of the necessity of surveillance for this -wily wage-earner, and formed the habit of escorting -him regularly on pay nights, alone at first, -later assisted by Mrs. Ogden, who accompanied -the family group as a self-constituted and final -auditor. It has frequently been remarked that a -great grief may bind together once disunited members -of a family; it is extremely improbable that -any affliction whatever could have produced among -<span class='pageno' id='Page_184'>184</span>the Ogdens such a gratifying <i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">esprit de corps</span></i> as -resulted from their unfeigned interest in pay day. -But when Mr. Ogden had shadowed his son to -no more secluded and dangerous spot than the -church-yard, and saw him in earnest conclave with -his attentive mates, he went, relieved, about his -own business, reassured by the words “campin’ -out” and “Sunday afternoon,” that he caught -from behind a convenient tombstone. He was -utterly unconscious that the scene he had left was -far more menacing to his household than even the -most disfiguring fight of his warlike son’s varied -repertoire. But so it was. Haranguing, promising, -taunting, threatening, Edgar led them, finally -subdued, into one of the most satisfactory -rehearsals of the year.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>They waited till quarter of eleven on Sunday, -and finally the men marched in alone, somewhat -conscious and ill at ease, followed by a red-faced, -determined rector, and a puzzled visiting clergyman. -They sang “<em>O happy band of pilgrims</em>,” -but it was remarked by the wondering congregation -<span class='pageno' id='Page_185'>185</span>that they did not look happy themselves. -There was no music but the hymns, which, as -they had been altered to well-known numbers, -were chanted lustily by the inhabitants of the -pews, thus winning the sincere admiration of the -visiting clergyman.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_195.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>And made a speech that will adorn the parish annals for many a year.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Really, such well-trained congregational singing -<span class='pageno' id='Page_186'>186</span>is quite rare,” he remarked afterward to -the rector, and was somewhat surprised at the -short answer: “It shall certainly never occur -again.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>It had gone hard with the vested choir but for -Mrs. Ogden. Mr. Fellowes pleaded in vain; in -vain the Ladies’ Auxiliary passed resolutions; -the rector was firm. It was only when Mrs. Ogden -swept in upon him in his study, a chastened, -still apprehensive boy under one arm, followed by -half a dozen women similarly equipped, and made -a speech that will adorn the parish annals for -many a year, that he yielded, respectfully convinced.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Edgar had met his Waterloo, and lived, so to -speak, under a consequent military surveillance, -with much of his prestige gone, his pay docked -for a month, and the certainty of approaching -warm weather, when it would be impossible to -take cold, and nothing but a summons to the -choir invisible could excuse him from rehearsals -here, to render the future all too clear to him. -In the words of the processional,</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='pageno' id='Page_187'>187</span>“<em>His tongue could never tire</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Of singing with the choir.</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>To-day, if you should attend evensong at St. -Mark’s, you will beyond a doubt be delighted -with a silver voice that appears to proceed from -a violet-eyed boy with a sweet expression.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>It is a good thing to give thanks unto the -Lord!</em>” the voice declares melodiously, but it is -doubtful if its owner is in a thankful frame of -mind. He would in all probability prefer to be -with his brother Samuel, who is at present touring -the West triumphantly with a Methodist revivalist, -rendering “<em>Where is my wandering boy -to-night?</em>” to weeping congregations for ten dollars -a week and his traveling expenses. And -even this success leaves Squealer dissatisfied; he -would far rather be in his father’s position—first -tenor in the Denman Thompson Old -Homestead Quartette—and sing “The Palms” -behind the scenes, when the stereopticon vision -of the repentant prodigal thrills the audience.</p> - -<p class='c000'>It would seem that your artistic temperament -<span class='pageno' id='Page_188'>188</span>is doomed to discontent. Whereas Mrs. Ogden, -who cannot carry a tune, is perfectly satisfied -with fine laundry work.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id005'> -<img src='images/i_198.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Perfectly satisfied with fine laundry work.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='chapter'> - <span class='pageno' id='Page_191'>191</span> - <h2 class='c005'>THE LITTLE GOD AND DICKY</h2> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0_6 c009'>“Where are you going?” said somebody, -as he slunk out toward the hatrack.</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<img src='images/i_201.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>He turned like a stag at bay.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, out,” he returned, with what a vaudeville -artist would call a good imitation of a person -wishing to appear blamelessly forgetful of -something he remembered quite distinctly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, see that you don’t stay -long. Remember what it is this -afternoon.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He turned like a stag at bay.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>What</em> is it this afternoon?” he -demanded viciously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You know very well.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>What?</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“See that you’re here, that’s all. -You’ve got to get dressed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I will not go to that old dancing-school -<span class='pageno' id='Page_192'>192</span>again, and I tell you that I won’t, and I -won’t. And I won’t!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, Dick, don’t begin that all over again. -It’s so silly of you. You’ve got to go.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because it’s the thing to do.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Because you must learn to dance.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Every nice boy learns.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That will do, Richard. Go and find your -pumps. Now, get right up from the floor, and -if you scratch the Morris chair I shall speak to -your father. Aren’t you ashamed of yourself? -Get right up—you must expect to be hurt, if -you pull so. Come, Richard! Now, stop crying—a -great boy like you! I am sorry I hurt your -elbow, but you know very well you aren’t crying -for that at all. Come along!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His sister flitted by the door in an engaging -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">déshabillé</span></i>, her accordeon-pleated skirt held carefully -from the floor, her hair in two glistening -<span class='pageno' id='Page_193'>193</span>blue-knotted pigtails. A trail of rose-scented -soap floated through the hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Hurry up, Dick, or we’ll be late,” she called -back sweetly, secure in the knowledge that if such -virtuous accents maddened him still further, no -one could blame her. His rage justified her faith.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, you shut up, will you!” he snarled.</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_203.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Secure in the knowledge that if such virtuous accents maddened him still further, no one could blame her.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>She looked meek, and listened to his deprivation -of dessert for the rest -of the week with an air of -love for the sinner and hatred -for the sin that deceived -even her older sister, who -was dressing her.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A desperately patient -monologue from the next -room indicated the course -of events there.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Your necktie is on the -bed. No, I don’t know -where the blue one is—it -doesn’t matter; that is just -as good. Yes, it is. No, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_194'>194</span>you can <em>not</em>. You will have to wear one. Because -no one ever goes without. I don’t know -why.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Many a boy would be thankful and glad to -have silk stockings. Nonsense—your legs are -warm enough. I don’t believe you. Now, Richard, -how perfectly ridiculous! There is no left -and right to stockings. You have no time to -change. Shoes are a different thing. Well, -hurry up, then. Because they are made so, I -suppose. I don’t know why.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_204.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Stop your scowling, for goodness’ sake, Dick.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Brush it more on that side—no, you can’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_195'>195</span>go to the barber’s. You went last week. It -looks perfectly well. I cut it? Why, I don’t -know how to trim hair. Anyway, there isn’t -time now. It will have to do. Stop your -scowling, for goodness’ sake, Dick. Have you a -handkerchief? It makes no difference, you must -carry one. You <em>ought</em> to want to use it. Well, -you should. Yes, they always do, whether they -have colds or not. I don’t know why.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Your Golden Text! The idea! No, you -cannot. You can learn that Sunday before -church. This is not the time to learn Golden -Texts. I never saw such a child. Now take your -pumps and find the plush bag. Why not? Put -them right with Ruth’s. That’s what the bag -was made for. Well, how do you want to carry -them? Why, I never heard of anything so silly! -You will knot the strings. I don’t care if they do -carry skates that way—skates are not slippers. -You’d lose them. Very well, then, only hurry up. -I should think you’d be ashamed to have them -dangling around your neck that way. Because -people never <em>do</em> carry them so. I don’t know why.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_196'>196</span>“Now, here’s your coat. Well, I can’t help it, -you have no time to hunt for them. Put your -hands in your pockets—it’s not far. And mind -you don’t run for Ruth every time. You don’t -take any pains with her, and you hustle her about, -Miss Dorothy says. Take another little girl. -Yes, you must. I shall speak to your father if -you answer me in that way, Richard. Men don’t -dance with their sisters. Because they don’t. I -don’t know why.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He slammed the door till the piazza shook, and -strode along beside his scandalized sister, the -pumps flopping noisily on his shoulders. She -tripped along contentedly—she liked to go. -The personality capable of extracting pleasure -from the hour before them baffled his comprehension, -and he scowled fiercely at her, rubbing his -silk stockings together at every step, to enjoy the -strange smooth sensation thus produced. This -gave him a bow-legged gait that distressed his -sister beyond words.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I think you might stop. Everybody’s looking -at you! Please stop, Dick Pendleton; you’re -<span class='pageno' id='Page_197'>197</span>a mean old thing. I should think you’d be -ashamed to carry your slippers that way. If you -jump in that wet place and spatter me I shall tell -papa—you <em>will</em> care, when I tell him, just the -same! You’re -just as bad as you -can be. I shan’t -speak with you -to-day!”</p> - -<div class='figright id003'> -<img src='images/i_207.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Going daintily and dutifully to dancing-school.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>She pursed up -her lips and maintained -a determined -silence. He -rubbed his legs -together with renewed -emphasis. -Acquaintances -met them and -passed, unconscious of anything but the sweet -picture of a sister and a brother and a plush -bag going daintily and dutifully to dancing-school; -but his heart was hot at the injustice of -the world and the hypocritical cant of girls, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_198'>198</span>her thoughts were busy with her indictment of -him before the family tribunal—she hoped he -would be sent to bed. Life is full and running -over with just such rosy deceits.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He jumped over the threshold of the long room -and aimed his cap at the head of a boy he knew, -who was standing on one foot to put on a slipper. -This destroyed his friend’s balance, and a cheering -scuffle followed. Life assumed a more hopeful -aspect. In the other dressing-room his sister -had fluttered into a whispering, giggling, many-colored -throng; buzzing and chuckling with the -rest, she adjusted her slippers, and perked out -her bows, her braids quivering with sociability.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A shrill whistle called them out in two crowding -bunches to the polished floor.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Hoping against hope, he had clung to the beautiful -thought that Miss Dorothy would be sick, that -she had missed her train—but no! there she was, -with her shiny high-heeled slippers, her pink skirt -that pulled out like a fan, and her silver whistle on -a chain. The little clicking castanets that rang -out so sharply were in her hand beyond a doubt.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_199'>199</span>“Ready, children! Spread out. Take your -lines. First position. Now!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>The large man at the piano, who always looked -half asleep, thundered out the first bars of the -latest waltz, and the business began.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_209.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>A line of toes rose gradually.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Their eyes were fixed solemnly on Miss Dorothy’s -pointed shoes. They slipped and slid and -crossed their legs and arched their pudgy insteps; -the boys breathed hard over their gleaming collars. -On the right side of the hall thirty hands -held out their diminutive skirts at an alluring -angle. On the left, neat black legs pattered diligently -through mystic evolutions.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The chords rolled out slower, with dramatic -<span class='pageno' id='Page_200'>200</span>pauses between; sharp clicks of the castanets -rang through the hall; a line of toes rose gradually -towards the horizontal, whirled more or less -steadily about, crossed behind, bent low, bowed, -and with a flutter of skirts resumed the first position.</p> - -<p class='c000'>A little breeze of laughing admiration circled -the row of mothers and aunts.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Isn’t that too cunning! Just like a little -ballet! Aren’t they graceful, really, now!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>One</em>, two, three! <em>One</em>, two, three! Slide, -slide, cross; <em>one</em>, two, three!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>There are those who find pleasure in the aimless -intricacies of the dance; self-respecting men -even have been known voluntarily to frequent assemblies -devoted to this nerve-racking attitudinizing -futility. Among such, however, you shall -seek in vain in future years for Richard Carr Pendleton.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“<em>One</em>, two, three! <em>Reverse</em>, two, three!” If -you want your heels clipped, step back inadvertently -into Master Pendleton’s domain. No matter -how pure your purposes, you will illustrate -<span class='pageno' id='Page_201'>201</span>the inevitable doom of the transgressor against -nature’s immutable limitations; you will be severely -nipped. And it will be just—he is triumphantly -following the rules.</p> - -<p class='c000'>The whistle shrilled.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ready for the two-step, children!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>A mild tolerance grew on him. If dancing must -be, better the two-step than anything else. It is -not an alluring dance, your two-step; it does not -require temperament. Any one with a firm intention -of keeping the time and a strong arm can -drag a girl through it very acceptably. It was -Dicky’s custom to hurl himself at the colored -bunch nearest him, seize a Sabine, so to speak, -and plunge into the dance. He had his eye on -Louise Hetherington, a large, plump girl, with a -tremendous braid of hair. She was a size too big -for the class, but everybody liked to dance with -her, for she knew how, and piloted her diminutive -partners with great skill. But she had been -snapped up by the six-year-old Harold, and was -even now guiding his infant steps around the -hall.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_202'>202</span>Dicky skirted the row of mothers and aunts -cautiously. Heaven send Miss Dorothy was not -looking at him! She seemed to have eyes in the -back of her head, that woman.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, look! Did you ever see anything so -sweet!” said somebody. Involuntarily he turned. -There in a corner, all by herself, a little girl was -gravely performing a dance. He stared at her -curiously. For the first time, free from all personal -connection with them, he discovered that -those motions were pretty.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was ethereally slender, brown eyed, brown -haired, brown skinned. A little fluffy white dress -spread fan-shaped above her knees; her ankles -were bird-like. The foot on which she poised -seemed hardly to rest on the ground; the other, -pointed outward, hovered easily—now here, now -there. Her eyes were serious, her hair hung loose. -She swayed lightly; one little gloved hand held -out her skirt, the other marked the time. Her -performance was an apotheosis of the two-step: -that metronomic dance would not have recognized -itself under her treatment.</p> - -<div class='figleft id003'> -<span class='pageno' id='Page_203'>203</span> -<img src='images/i_213.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p><em>“Thethelia,” she lisped.</em></p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>Dicky admired. But the admiration -of his sex is notoriously -fatal to the art that attracts it. -He advanced and bowed jerkily, -grasped one of the loops of her -sash in the back, stamped gently -a moment to get the time, and -the artist sank into the partner, -the pirouette grew coarse to -sympathize with clay.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Don’t they do it well, -though! See those little things near the door!” -he caught as they went by, and his heart swelled -with pride.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What’s your name?” he asked abruptly after -the dance.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Thethelia,” she lisped, and shook her hair -over her cheek. She was very shy.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mine’s Richard Carr Pendleton. My father’s -a lawyer. What’s yours?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I—I don’t know!” she gasped, obviously -considering flight.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He chuckled delightedly. Was ever such -<span class='pageno' id='Page_204'>204</span>engaging idiocy? She didn’t know. Well, -well!</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Pooh!” he said grandly, “I guess you know. -Don’t you, really?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She looked hopelessly at her fan, and shook her -head. Suddenly a light dawned in her big eyes.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Maybe I know,” she murmured. “I gueth I -know. He—he’th a really thtate!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“A really state? That isn’t anything—nothing -at all. A really state?” he frowned at her -judicially. Her lip quivered; she turned and ran -away.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Here, come back!” he called, but she was gone.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Ready for the cotillion, children!” and Miss -Dorothy, her arms full of long, colored ribbons, -was upon him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>There was a rumbling chord from the piano, a -mad rush for the head of the line. A rosy blonde, -with big, china blue eyes, dragged her protesting -sailor-suited partner to the front, and glared -triumphantly at the roly-poly couple behind her. -They stared at each other desperately—they had -had their dreams of precedence—and suddenly, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_205'>205</span>as the robbers stood far apart and swung their -arms carelessly high, the roly-poly couple crouched -down, slipped between them, and emerged at the -head of the procession!</p> - -<p class='c000'>The march began. Dicky, linked to a tomboy -in white duck, who whistled the march correctly -as she swung along, had fought for a place -behind his late partner, and as they clambered -into adjacent chairs he nudged her violently and -whispered, “I’m going to choose you!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She smiled shyly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“All right,” she said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Miss Dorothy approached with the favors. A -violent hissing and snapping of fingers burst out -from the line. They wriggled on their chairs. -Miss Dorothy paused, threateningly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Perhaps we had better not have any cotillion,” -she said sternly. “If I hear another -hiss—” There was a dead silence.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Dicky sat primly, looking at the ceiling. As -he had expected, a broad violet streamer fell in -his lap. He leaped to the floor, seized Cecelia by -her skirt, hustled the tomboy, as in duty bound, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_206'>206</span>within the purple leash, and beckoned to the next -girl in the row. They arranged themselves three -abreast, and he drove them, to the inspiring two-step, -across the room, in line with two other -drivers similarly equipped. On the return trip -they were confronted by three bands of prancing -little boys, perilously realistic in their interpretation -of the pretty figure, and as they met in the -middle, with a scramble of adjustment, the steeds -paired off neatly, and the flushed drivers, more -or less entangled in their long ribbons, accomplished -an ultimate two-step.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Now, you choose me,” he commanded, as they -scrambled into the chairs. Again she smiled, -again she hid her cheek with her hair.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“All right,” she said again.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In vain Louise Hetherington made signs to him; -in vain the rosy blonde snapped her fingers—he -was blind and deaf. He slipped into the broad -blue ribbon she held out to him at arm’s length, -and cantered cheerfully before her, her slave forever. -How lightly she floated on behind them! -Not like that tomboy Frances, who clucked at -<span class='pageno' id='Page_207'>207</span>her team as if they were horses, and nearly ran -them down; nor like that silly, fat, yellow-curled -Gladys, who bubbled with laughter and -hung back on the satin reins until her team -nearly fell over. Cecelia swam like thistledown -in their wake, and slipped the ribbon over their -heads with all the effect of a scarf dance.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_217.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>How lightly she floated on behind them!</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“That will do for to-day,” said Miss Dorothy, -gathering up the ribbons, and they surged into -the dressing-rooms, to be buttoned up and pulled -out of draughts and trundled home.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She was swathed carefully in a wadded silk -jacket, and then enveloped in a hooded Mother -Hubbard cloak; she looked like an angelic -<span class='pageno' id='Page_208'>208</span>brownie. Dicky ran up to her as a woman led -her out to a coupé at the curb, and tugged at the -ribbon of her cloak.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Where do you live? Say, where do you?” -he demanded.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her hair was under the hood, but she hid her -face behind the woman.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I—I don’t know,” she said softly. The -woman laughed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, yes, you do, Cissy,” she reproved. -“Tell him directly, now.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She put one tiny finger in her mouth.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I—I gueth I live on Chethnut Thtreet,” she -called as the door slammed and shut her in.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His sister amicably offered him half the plush -bag to carry, and opened a running criticism of -the afternoon.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Did you ever see anybody act like that Frannie -Leach? She’s awfully rough. Miss Dorothy -spoke to her twice—wasn’t that dreadful? What -made you dance all the time with Cissy Weston? -She’s an awful baby—a regular ’fraid-cat! We -girls tease her just as easy—do you like her?”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_209'>209</span>“She’s the prettiest one there!” he said.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His sister stared at him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, Dick Pendleton, she is not! She’s so -little—she’s not half so pretty as Agnes, or—or -lots of the girls. She’s such a baby. She puts -her finger in her mouth if anybody says anything -at all. If you ask her a single thing she does -like this: ‘I don’t know, I don’t know!’”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He smiled scornfully. Did he not know how -she did it? Had he not seen that adorable finger, -those appealing eyes?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“And she can’t talk plain! She lisps—truly -she does!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Heavens! Was ever a girl so thick-headed as -that sister of his! Brains, technical knowledge, -experience of the world, these he had never looked -to find in her; but perceptions, feminine intuitions—were -they lacking, too?</p> - -<p class='c000'>Poor deluded sex! What shall emancipation, -what shall higher education profit you that cannot -even now discern what charm has entangled your -brothers and husbands?</p> - -<p class='c000'>“She puts her finger in her mouth! She can’t -<span class='pageno' id='Page_210'>210</span>talk plain!” Alas, my sisters, it was Helen’s -finger that toppled over Troy, and Diane de Poitiers -stammered!</p> - -<p class='c000'>He listened calmly to his sister’s account of his -infatuation and its causelessness.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why, she’s a nice little girl,” said his aunt, -smiling, “but, really, she can’t be called exactly -pretty. There is something rather attractive -about her eyes.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>In this wise may Mark Antony’s aunt have dismissed -the very Serpent of old Nile herself!</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I should like,” he said to his mother the next -day, “to go and see her.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, you can go with me to-morrow, perhaps, -when I call on Mrs. Weston,” she assented.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“What? Why, of course not! Men don’t -go calling in pumps. Your best shoes will do. -Are you crazy? A straw hat in February! -You will wear your middy cap. Now don’t argue -the matter, Richard, or you can’t go at all.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Seated opposite her on a hassock, their mothers -chatting across the room, his assurance withered -away. There was nothing whatever to say, -<span class='pageno' id='Page_211'>211</span>and he said it, adequately perhaps, but with a -sense of deepening embarrassment. She took refuge -behind her hair, and they stared uncomfortably -at each other.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_221.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“<em>Seated opposite her on a hassock.</em>”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“And he has never condescended to have anything -to do with little girls before, so we are -much impressed.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Oh, why did not the hassock yawn beneath him -and swallow him up! To discuss him as if he -were a piece of furniture! Laugh away! The -crackling of thorns under a pot....</p> - -<p class='c000'>Day before yesterday he had been so easily -<i><span lang="fr" xml:lang="fr">grand seigneur</span></i>, so tolerantly charmed: to-day he -wished he had not come. Why didn’t she speak? -If only they were out of doors; in a room with -pictures and cushions a man is at such a disadvantage.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_212'>212</span>“If you’ll come over to my house, I’ll show -you the biggest rat-hole you ever saw—it’s in -the stable!” he said desperately. It was a good -deal to do for a girl, but she was worth it.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! Oh!” she breathed, and her eyes -widened.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Maybe you can see the rat—he doesn’t often -come out, though,” he added honestly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She shuddered and twisted her fingers violently.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“No! No!” she whispered revoltedly. “I—I -hate ratths! I dreamed about one! I had -to have the gath lit! Oh, no!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Frightened at this long speech, she looked obstinately -in her lap, though he tried persistently -to catch her eye and smile.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Their mothers’ voices rose and fell; they chattered -meaninglessly. Ladies talked and talked: -they never did anything to speak of, they only -talked.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She would not look at him: at his wits’ ends, -he played his highest card. If she were of mortal -flesh and blood, this would interest her.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_213'>213</span>“Look here! Do you know what Boston bull -pups are? Do you?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She nodded vigorously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, you know their tails?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She nodded uncertainly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You know they’re just little stumps?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, yeth!” she beamed at him. “My Uncle -Harry’th got a bulldog. Hith name ith Eli. -He liketh me.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Well, see here! Do you know how they -make their tails short? <em>A man bites ’em off!</em> A -fellow told me——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh! Oh! Oh!” She shuddered off the -hassock, and rushed to her mother, gasping with -horror.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“He thayth—he thayth—” words failed her. -Broken sobs of “Eli! Oh, Eli!” filled the parlor. -He was dazed, terrified. What had happened? -What had he done? He was shuffled -disgracefully from the room; apologies rose above -her sobbing; the door closed behind Dicky and -his mother.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Waves of rebuke rolled over his troubled spirit.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_214'>214</span>“Of all dreadful things to say to a poor, nervous -little girl! I am too mortified. Richard, -how do you learn such dreadful, dreadful things? -It’s not true.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But, mamma, it <em>is</em>! It truly is. When -they are little a man bites them off. Peter told -me so. He puts his mouth right down——”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Richard! Not another word! You are -disgusting—perfectly disgusting. You trouble -me very much.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He retired to the clothes-tree in the side yard—there -were no junipers there—and cursed his -gods. To have made her cry! They thought -he didn’t care, but oh, he did! He felt as if he -had eaten a cold, gray stone that weighed down -his stomach. The cat slunk by, but he threw -nothing at her, and his neighbor’s St. Bernard -puppy rolled inquiringly into the hedge, stuck -there, and thrashed about helplessly, but he said -nothing to frighten it. He thought of supper—they -had spoken of cinnamon rolls and little -yellow custards—but without the usual thrill. -What was the matter? Was he going to be -<span class='pageno' id='Page_215'>215</span>sick? There seemed no outlook to life—one -thing was as good as another. He regarded going -to bed with a dull acquiescence. As well -that as anything else. It might be eight o’clock -now for all he cared.</p> - -<p class='c000'>At night his mother came and sat for a moment -on the side of the bed.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Papa doesn’t want you to feel too bad, dear,” -she said. “He knows that you never meant to -frighten Cecelia so. You know that little girls -are very different from little boys in some ways. -Things that seem—er—amusing to you, seem -very cruel to them. To-morrow would you like -to send her some flowers and write her a little -note, and tell her how sorry you are?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>He could not speak, but he seized his mother’s -hand and kissed it up to her lace ruffle. The -cold, gray stone melted away from his stomach; -again the future stretched rosily vague before -him. In happy dreams he did the honors of the -rat-hole to a sweet, shy guest.</p> - -<p class='c000'>In the morning he applied himself to his note -of apology; his sister ruled the lines on a beautiful -<span class='pageno' id='Page_216'>216</span>sheet of paper with a curly gold “P” at the -top, and he bent to his task with extended -tongue and lines between his eyes. Hitherto his -mother had been his only correspondent. He -carried her the note with a sense of justifiable -pride.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“It’s spelled all right,” he said, “because -every word I didn’t know I asked Bess, and she -told me.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-l c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><em>My dear Cecelia</em>:</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c011'>I am going to send you some flowrs. I am sory they -bite them of but they do. I hope you did not hafto lite -the gas. we are all well and haveing a good time. with -much love I am your loving son.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'><span class='sc'>Richard Carr Pendleton.</span></div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Bess did the periods, but I remembered the -large I’s myself,” he added comfortably. “Is it -all right?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>His mother left the room abruptly, and he, -supposing it to be one of her many suddenly-remembered -errands, was mercifully unconscious -of any connection between himself and the roars -of laughter that came from his father’s study.</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_217'>217</span>“Just as it is, mind you. Lizzie, just as it is!” -his father called after her as she came out again; -and though she insisted that it was too absurd, -and that something was the matter with her children, -she was sure, nevertheless she kissed him -with no particular occasion, and held her peace -nobly when he selected a hideous purple blossom -with spotty leaves, assisted by the interested -florist.</p> - -<p class='c000'>His offering was acceptable, and if, on the renewal -of an acquaintance destined to grow into a -gratifying intimacy, he learned from bitter experience -that more than one subject was tabooed, -that more than one sudden emotion must expect -no answering sympathy, how was he to evade the -tribulations of his kind? This cup was prepared -for them from the beginning. If earthly bliss -were flawless, should we concern ourselves at all -with heaven?</p> - -<p class='c000'>That day she met him on her walk, and smiling -almost fearlessly, offered him a camel animal -cracker! True, the most obvious projection -was bitten off, and that process is the best part -<span class='pageno' id='Page_218'>218</span>of animal crackers; but then, she was only -seven! It is not an age to which one looks for -the most brilliant altruism.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He gave her in return a long-cherished cane-top -of polished wood, cut in the shape of a greyhound’s -head, with eyes of orange-colored glass. -She seemed almost to appreciate it. He had -been offered a white mouse for it more than once.</p> - -<p class='c000'>For two long months the Little God led him -along the primrose way. The poor fellow -thought it was the main road; he had yet to -learn it was but a by-path. But the Little God -was not through with him.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her brother, an uninteresting fellow at first, -had improved on acquaintance, and though he -scoffed at Dicky’s devotion to his sister—thinking -her a great baby—he had come to consider -him a friend. One day, late in April, he led -Dick out to a deserted corner of the grounds, and -for the sum of a small red top and a blue glass -eye that had been a doll’s most winning feature, -consented to impart to him a song of such delicious -badness that it had to be sung in secret. -<span class='pageno' id='Page_219'>219</span>He had just learned it himself, and the knowledge -of it admitted one to a sort of club, whose -members were bound together by the vicious syllables. -Dicky was pleasantly uncertain of its -meaning, but it contained words that custom has -banished from the family circle. They crooned -it fearfully, with faces averted from the house, -and an exhilarating sense of dissipation.</p> - -<div class='figcenter id004'> -<img src='images/i_229.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -<div class='ic003'> -<p>“’<em>Yelly belly, yelly belly.</em>’”</p> -</div> -</div> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>Yellow belly, yellow belly, come an’ take a swim!</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Yes, by golly, when the tide comes in!</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>As he slipped back to the house alone, practising -it furtively and foretasting the joys of imparting -it to Peter, the stableman, Cecelia appeared -suddenly from behind a large tree. She -was all smiles—she was not afraid of him any -<span class='pageno' id='Page_220'>220</span>more. Dancing lightly on one foot, she waved -her bonnet and began to sing, bubbling with -laughter. Horror! What did he hear?</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>Yelly belly, yelly belly, comin’ take a thwim!</em></div> - <div class='line'><em>Yith, by——</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, stop! Cissy, stop it! You mustn’t -sing that!” he cried wildly.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She looked elfish.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Why not? Dicky thingth it,” she said with -a happy smile.</p> - -<p class='c000'>She had a heavenly habit, left from babyhood, -of referring to her interlocutor and occasionally -to herself in the third person.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“But girls mustn’t sing it,” he warned her -sternly. “Don’t you dare to—it’s a secret.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>She danced farther away.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Dicky thingth it. Thithy thingth it!” she -persisted, and as he scowled she pursed her lips -again.</p> - -<div class='lg-container-b c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>“<em>Yelly belly, yelly belly——</em>”</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>“I won’t sing it! I won’t!” he cried desperately. -“I won’t if you’ll keep still! So there! -I tell you I won’t!”</p> - -<p class='c000'><span class='pageno' id='Page_221'>221</span>She stopped, amused at his emotion. All ignorant -of his sacrifice, all careless of his heroic -defense of her, she only knew that she could tease -him in an entirely new way.</p> - -<p class='c000'>And the Little God, knowing that Dicky -would keep his word, and that Peter would never -get the chance for the scandalized admiration -once in store for him, strutted proudly away and -polished up his chains. His victim was secure.</p> - -<p class='c000'>Her brother, on learning the facts, suggested -slapping her well—good heavens!—and having -nothing more to do with her, for a mean, sneaking -tattle-tale. Here was an opportunity to -break his bonds. But to those who have served -the Little God it will be no surprise to learn that -it was on that very evening that he made his famous -proposal to the assembled family, namely, -that he and Cecelia should be really engaged like -her Uncle Harry and Miss Merriam, and in a little -while marry and set up housekeeping in the -guest chamber.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That’s what Miss Merriam is going to do,” -he explained, “and Cissy’s grandma is sorry, too; -<span class='pageno' id='Page_222'>222</span>it doesn’t leave her any place for company but -the hall bedroom. But they’ve got to have the -room, she s’poses.”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“That will do, Richard! You are not to repeat -everything you hear. And I am afraid I -need the guest chamber. What should we do -when Aunt Nannie comes?”</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Oh, Cissy could have her crib right in the -room. She wouldn’t mind Aunt Nanny,” he replied -superbly. “She always sleeps in a crib, -and she always will. A bed scares her—she’s -afraid she’ll fall out. I could sleep on the couch, -like Christmas time!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>But in the manner of age the wide world over, -they merely urged him to wait. There was -plenty of time. Time! and she might be living -in the house with them!</p> - -<p class='c000'>It was that very night that he reached the top -of the wave, and justified the Little God’s selection.</p> - -<p class='c000'>He came down to breakfast rapt and quiet. -He salted his oatmeal by mistake and never knew -the difference. His sister laughed derisively, and -<span class='pageno' id='Page_223'>223</span>explained his folly to him as he swallowed the -last spoonful, but he only smiled kindly at her. -After his egg he spoke.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“I dreamed that it was dancing-school. And -I went. And I was the only fellow there. And -what do you think? <em>All the little girls were Cecelia!</em>”</p> - -<p class='c000'>They gasped.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“You don’t suppose he’ll be a poet, do you, -Ritch.? Or a genius, or anything?” his mother -inquired anxiously.</p> - -<p class='c000'>“Lord, no!” his father returned. “I should -say he was more likely to be a Mormon!”</p> - -<p class='c000'>Dick knew nothing of either class. But the -Little God knew very well what he was, and was -at that moment making out his diploma.</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div><em>The End</em></div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_225'>225</span></div> -<div class='ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>By A. Conan Doyle</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE HOUND OF THE BASKERVILLES</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>A Sherlock Holmes Novel</div> - <div class='c004'>Illustrated by Sidney Paget</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='c000'><cite>The London Chronicle</cite>, in a review headed</p> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>“THE ZENITH OF SHERLOCK HOLMES,”</div> - </div> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>says:</p> - -<p class='c000'>“We should like to pay Dr. Doyle the -highest compliment at our command. It is not -simply that this book is superior in originality -and construction to the earlier adventures of -the great detective. Dr. Doyle has provided a -criminal who, as Mr. Holmes admits, is indeed -a foeman worthy of his steel.<a id='r1' /><a href='#f1' class='c012'><sup>[1]</sup></a> Hitherto he -has found it comparatively easy to unmask his -antagonists. But in the present case he finds -himself checkmated again and again. There is -pitted against him a skill nearly equal to his -own, and he wins the game almost by a hair.”</p> - -<div class='footnote' id='f1'> -<p class='c000'><span class='label'><a href='#r1'>1</a>. </span>“I tell you, Watson, this time we have a foeman -who is worthy of our steel.”—<em>Sherlock Holmes.</em></p> -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>$1.25</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_226'>226</span></div> -<div class='ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>By Stewart Edward White</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE BLAZED TRAIL</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0 c000'>A tale from beyond the bounds of civilization. -The second in Mr. White’s series of -thoroughly American stories.</p> - -<p class='c011'>The inspiriting breath of the great pine woods is in this -dramatic novel of frontier struggle in which a green -“land looker” plays a lone hand against a powerful and -unscrupulous land company for a vast tract of timber -land.</p> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='50%' /> -<col width='50%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><em>Third Edition.</em></td> - <td class='c008'>$1.50.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<hr class='c013' /> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div><em>By the same author</em>:</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE WESTERNERS</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0 c000'>MR. WHITE shows us the rough-and-ready -life of a Western mining camp.</p> - -<p class='c011'>“’The Westerners’ lays strong hold on the reader. -The thing is vital. There is a force and a sincerity distinctly -Western—of the frontier; the grim naturalness -of elemental things. Furthermore Mr. White knows his -West, his plains, his Indians and his mining camps.”</p> - -<div class='lg-container-r c010'> - <div class='linegroup'> - <div class='group'> - <div class='line'>—<cite>Chicago Record-Herald</cite>.</div> - </div> - </div> -</div> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='50%' /> -<col width='50%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'><em>Third Edition.</em></td> - <td class='c008'>$1.50.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_227'>227</span></div> -<div class='ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>By George Douglas</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>THE HOUSE WITH THE GREEN SHUTTERS</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='drop-capa0_0 c000'>The first novel of a new master. The work -has gained wide-spread recognition on both -sides of the water. Three of the most conservative -and authoritative publications in England -include it among the first twelve of the -year. In this country <cite>Harper’s Weekly</cite> gives -it as one of the two most interesting novels of -the year.</p> - -<p class='c000'><em>The critics differ as to with what other master -George Douglas should be compared</em>:</p> - -<p class='c011'><cite>The London Times</cite> says: “Worthy of the hand that -drew ‘Weir of Hermiston,’” and that “Balzac and -Flaubert, had they been Scotch, would have written -such a book.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><cite>The Spectator</cite>: “His masters are Zola and Balzac, but -there are few traces of the novice and none of the imitator.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><cite>Vanity Fair</cite>: “It moves to its end with all the terrible -unity of an Æschylean tragedy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'><cite>Harper’s Weekly</cite>: “If Thomas Hardy had written of -Scotland, instead of Wessex, it would have been something -like ‘The House with the Green Shutters’.... If -any man is his (Douglas’) master it is Thomas Hardy.”</p> - -<p class='c011'>Hardy, Stevenson, Zola, Flaubert, Balzac, and Æschylus.</p> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='50%' /> -<col width='50%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>Eighth Edition.</td> - <td class='c008'>$1.50.</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div><span class='pageno' id='Page_228'>228</span></div> -<div class='ph2'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c003'> - <div>By Henry Wallace Phillips</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>RED SAUNDERS</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> - <div class='nf-center'> - <div>His Adventures, West and East</div> - </div> -</div> - -<div class='figcenter id002'> -<img src='images/acorn.jpg' alt='' class='ig001' /> -</div> - -<p class='c000'>There is plenty of dash and adventure in -this book, told with a humor whose most delightful -quality is its unstudied naturalness. -The critics are all laughing, not at the book, -but with it.</p> - -<hr class='c013' /> - -<p class='c000'>“Chantay Seechee Red is the sort of cowpuncher -it benefits one to meet even between -the covers of a book.”—<cite>N. Y. Evening Post.</cite></p> - -<p class='c000'>“Mark Twain has written no more delicious -stories.”—<cite>Philadelphia Inquirer.</cite></p> - -<p class='c000'>“A delightful study of life in the West.”—<cite>Newark -Call.</cite></p> - -<p class='c000'>“The wind blows through it, and the meaning -of it is health and joy.”—<cite>N. Y. Sun.</cite></p> - -<p class='c000'>“The creator of Red Saunders has an exuberant -sense of humor.”—<cite>N. -Y. Evening Telegram.</cite></p> - -<table class='table1' summary=''> -<colgroup> -<col width='50%' /> -<col width='50%' /> -</colgroup> - <tr> - <td class='c006'>Second Edition</td> - <td class='c008'>$1.25</td> - </tr> -</table> - -<div class='ph3'> - -<div class='nf-center-c1'> -<div class='nf-center c002'> - <div>McClure, Phillips & Co.</div> - </div> -</div> - -</div> - -<div class='pbb'> - <hr class='pb c004' /> -</div> -<div class='tnotes'> - -<div class='chapter'> - <h2 class='c005'>TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES</h2> -</div> - <ol class='ol_1 c002'> - <li>Changed “her little courtesy” to “her little curtsy” on p. <a href='#t107'>107</a>. - - </li> - <li>Changed “liebchen” to “<span lang="de" xml:lang="de">Liebchen</span>” on p. <a href='#t86'>86</a>. - - </li> - <li>Silently corrected typographical errors. - - </li> - <li>Retained anachronistic and non-standard spellings as printed. - </li> - </ol> - -</div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of Project Gutenberg's The Madness of Philip, by Josephine Dodge Daskam - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE MADNESS OF PHILIP *** - -***** This file should be named 55161-h.htm or 55161-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/1/6/55161/ - -Produced by Richard Tonsing and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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