CHAPTER IX
A LIVE STOCK SALE
John Chester had prophesied that, in answer to his ill-advised jest ofan advertisement, it would "rain horses."
Apparently, it had. Not only horses but cows; and, trampled upon by thefirst, hooked by the latter, an assorted lot of pigs mingled with theother quadrupeds, squealing, twisting, doubling-and-turning upon theirleading ropes with the perversity native to swine.
These unlovely creatures frightened the high-bred team drawing thecarriage, setting them to rearing and plunging till an accident wasimminent. Their driver had made to pass directly through the assemblybefore Skyrie gate, leaving it for meaner turnouts to make way for him:with the result that the unmanageable pigs had set other horses into atumult.
Fortunately, the coachman was both cool and skillful, and with adexterity that seemed wonderful he brought the Montaigne equipage aroundand began a retreat, over the way he had just come. This saved thesituation, so far as an upset was concerned, and he did not again drawrein till well away from the scene. Then, all danger being past, Helenapromptly fainted, and saved her equally frightened mother from doing soby rousing her maternal anxiety.
John Chester never knew just how he managed to get out of that carriage.Certainly, with far less difficulty than he had found in entering it,for he was suddenly upon the ground, his crutches under his arms, andhimself hobbling forward with tremendous swings into the very midst ofthings.
"Come here, come here!" commanded Mrs. Calvert to Dorothy, withdrawingto the high bank bordering the road and that was topped by one of thosegreat stone walls which Simon Waterman had built. Amusement, surprise,and anxiety chased one another across her mobile old features, and witha sudden movement she turned upon Mrs. Chester, crying excitedly: "Well,my friend, you can't deny that plenty of things happen in the country,as well as in the city you bewail. Match me this in Baltimore, if youplease! And explain it--if you can!"
For it was mother Martha and not her daughter who had obeyed Mrs.Cecil's imperative: "Come here!" and who could only gasp, through herastonishment: "It's that advertisement. A 'joke' of John's that hedidn't mean to pass beyond our own doors. We need a horse, a cow, andpig to----"
"Add hens! to scratch up your neighbors' flower beds and givecompleteness to your lives!" laughed Mrs. Betty, who felt and declaredthat: "I haven't had so much fun in a single morning since--I can't tellwhen. I wouldn't have missed this!"
"Seems as if everybody in the whole town must have read and answeredthat foolish thing. I--_what shall we do_? How possibly get rid of allthese people!" cried the mistress of Skyrie in real distress.
As yet neither she nor Mrs. Cecil had observed Helena's faintness, forthe back of the carriage was toward them now and some distance down theroad. But they had observed Mr. Chester's swift departure houseward, andhad seen Dorothy leap like a flash over the intervening wall, toward thekitchen door and the well which was near it.
"Makes me think of the 'Light Brigade,' with horses for 'cannon.' That'sshameful for me! though, there _are_ cows to the right of them, pigsunderneath them, and horses--did anybody ever see such a collection?"asked Mrs. Calvert, clutching Mrs. Chester's arm to keep herself fromslipping downward from the bank into the briars below. Then suddenlyagain exclaiming: "Look at that child! She's carrying water in apitcher. She's making her way through those men out into the road again.Something has happened. Somebody is in trouble. Oh! it must be thatfrail-looking daughter of the Montaignes! See. Dorothy is running nowstraight toward the carriage."
This was sufficient to banish all amusement from Mrs. Cecil's manner andshe was instantly upon Dorothy's trail, moving with an ease andswiftness that amazed Mrs. Chester, active though she herself was.Indeed, the girl had to slacken her speed in order not to spill all thewater from the pitcher, and so the pair reached the side of thecarriage together; the old gentlewoman nodding approval for the presenceof mind which Dorothy had shown.
However, Helena was rapidly recovering from her brief swoon, and hermother looked askance at the cracked pitcher in which the water had beenbrought and the rusty tin cup in which it was offered; Dorothy havingseized the utensils always left lying beside the well, for theconvenience of passers-by, without waiting to secure more presentablearticles.
Still, it was Mrs. Calvert whose hand proffered the refreshing draught,and it was Mrs. Calvert's voice which was saying, in its mostaristocratic yet kindest accents:
"I did not at once see that your daughter was ill. Your husband left usat the very first crossroad toward your place and I was absorbed with mynew-old neighbors' affairs. Deerhurst is nearer than the Towers. Why notdrive there first and let Miss Helena rest awhile before going further?"
Now the invitation was given in all sincerity, though the mistress ofDeerhurst was inwardly smiling at the pictured face of Seth Winters, hadhe been there to hear her thus cordially soliciting for guests thepeople she had once declared she would never willingly know. Only theslightest reluctance accompanied her words. She had intended callingupon the Chesters in their home and upon having a plain business talkwith "Johnnie." However, from all appearances at the cottage beyond,this was not an opportune time for such an interview and one that couldeasily be postponed. At present, the Skyrie family had their handssufficiently full of more pressing affairs.
Helena Montaigne shared her father's social ambition, so it was with awan, sweet smile that she accepted from the mistress of Deerhurst thebattered tin cup that she would have rejected had Dorothy held itupwards. Also, after graciously sipping a few drops of the refreshingwater, she accepted for herself and mother--it was always Helena whosettled such matters--that most gratifying invitation to the mansion.More than that she rose from her place on the wide back seat of thecarriage and offered it to Mrs. Cecil, rather than that lady should beforced to ride backwards. But this sacrifice was declined:
"No, indeed, thank you. I will finish my trip as I begin it, by walking.It will take you as long to drive around by the entrance as for me to goacross lots, through the woods. I will meet you at the door. Good-by,Dorothy. I trust you'll all come well out of your present predicamentand I shall be anxious to hear results."
Mrs. Cecil was not prone to outward expressions of affection and thelittle girl was surprised to receive a kiss, as the pitcher was handedback to her, and this surprise was fully shared by the occupants of thecarriage. But, having bestowed this light caress, the nimble old ladygathered up her skirts and struck into a footpath running beneath thetrees, where every woodland creature was gay with the gladness of June.Yet as she passed among them, none seemed more glad than she; nor,maybe, in the sight of the Creator of them all was she alien to them.
Let alone, Dorothy sped backward to her home, and to the side of herparents, who stood together before the kitchen door, vainly endeavoringto hear what a half-dozen different men were saying at once. Her keeneyes scanned the odd collection of beasts with an ever increasingamusement, though she lifted her feet with a little shriek of fear as amighty hog, which had long outgrown its "pig" days, broke from itsowner's grasp and waddled up the path.
"I saw it in the _Local_, and if a man's goin' to start in farmin'----"began one.
"Pooh; neighbor! this feller's hoss ain't no kind o' use to a lame manlike you! That hoss? Why, that hoss has run away and smashed things moretimes 'an it's years old--and that's sayin' consid'able!" interrupted asecond trader, as the first one edged into the dooryard leading a gauntblack steed, himself dragging through the gateway a sorrel mare whichhad also reached the years of discretion.
At which number one retorted with fine scorn:
"Why, if that ain't Bill Barry! Huh! Lemme tell you, neighbor, a manthat trades hosses, or buys one outright, off _Bill_ gets left everytime. That there sorrel? Why, she's twenty-odd if she's a day!"
Amid the laugh that followed this sally a third man called over the wallfrom the road beyond:
"Hello, mister? Advertised for a cow, didn't you? Well, just step a-hereand take a peek at this
fine Alderney o' mine. New milker with a calfstill beside her--purty as a picture, the pair of 'em, and dirt cheap.Reason I sell, I've got more stawk 'an my land 'll keep. Come this way,won't you, Mr.--Mr.--'Skyrie,' is it?"
Poor father John scratched his perplexed head, shifted his weight uponhis crutches, and would fain have answered each and all at once as eachdemanded; but the affair was too much for him, who was always so readyto see the funny side of things. He cast one bewildered glance intoDorothy's laughing, sympathetic face and, also, began to laugh aloud.
The trader nearest, he of the gaunt black steed, caught the infection ofmerriment and augmented it by a hoarse guffaw. Already, while waitingfor the prospective purchasers, the many who had come to sell had seenthe absurdity of the situation, and each new arrival of pig, cow, orhorse, had caused an outburst of momentary mirth. Yet, hitherto, underthis passing amusement, had lain a half-angry resentment. Each hadclimbed the mountain, or traveled across it, for the sole purpose of"making a good trade," and none was pleased to find his chancesforestalled.
Now, however, personal feelings gave way before this good-naturedacceptance of an annoying state of things; and, before another momentpassed, the laughter which the master of Skyrie had started was echoedfrom man to man till Dorothy clapped her hands to her ears and motherMartha ran into the house, to escape the uproar.
The fun conquered, for a time at least, all ill feeling, but it had notsettled more important matters. The buying and selling had yet to come,and John Chester fairly groaned as he whispered to Dorothy:
"What shall I do with them! However get out of this mess! I know no moreabout the good points of a horse or a cow than a babe unborn, and yourmother who does--or should, for she's a farmer's daughter--hasignominiously fled!"
Seeing the pair in apparent consultation, the visiting owners of thevarious animals held their momentary peace, till Dorothy answered quiteseriously:
"Well, whether you do or do not know which is good and which is bad, youdid advertise for them, you know, and you ought to take one of eachkind, I s'pose. That is--have you got the money ready, to pay rightnow?"
"Oh, yes! The money's all right. Martha has that in her cupboard."
"Well, then, let's try it this way. Ask her to come out again; thenlet's begin with the pigs. They act the meanest of all the creatures andI hate them! _Must_ we have a pig, father John?"
"So your mother says. To eat up the milk!"
"Then I do think she ought to select it. I'll go and ask her, myself.Let everybody bring up his pig, one after another, like standing in lineat the post-office, you know; and let mother look them all over andchoose the one she wants. When we get through the pigs the rest of thepig-men will go away, and the cow-men show us their cows. Oh! it wouldbe just jolly to do it that way! Mother buy the pig, you the horse, andI the cow! I'll go and see if she will."
Either Dorothy's arguments were convincing or Mrs. Chester had repentedher retreat, thus leaving her more inexperienced husband to the mercy ofpossibly unscrupulous traders, for she promptly reappeared in thedooryard and announced:
"We will buy just what we advertised for: one cow, one horse, one pig.We will examine the pigs first, and in order, with lowest price statedat once. We will not dicker at all, but will buy as cheaply as we can.Now, begin."
The little woman had placed herself upon the doorstep, with an air ofpractical business which caused her husband to silently clap his handsand as silently applaud; nodding his head and saying, by his expression:
"Good enough, madam! Couldn't have done better if you'd been incontinual practice!"
The only difficulty of the proceeding was that each "pig-man" had grownweary of waiting and now crowded to the fore, intent upon selling _his_pig before another had a chance. Result: seven specimens of swine, invarying degrees of fatness, were forced into the inclosure; where eachimmediately proceeded to entangle himself with his neighbor and to runin a direction diametrically opposed to his owner's will.
"Oh! how glad I am our flower beds haven't been made yet!" criedDorothy, flying up the outside stairs of the cottage, where she feltquite safe, although one inquisitive porker did plant its fore-legs onthe lower step, intent to follow. Thence it was jerked back by itsowner, with the remark:
"Drat a hog, anyhow! They're plaguyest critters to drive of any thatlives. Next time I have a pig to sell I'll do it on my own premises--ornot at all!"
In mercy to the animals and to their owners Mrs. Chester made a quickselection and one that others, wiser than herself, knew to be afortunate one. Her choice fell upon a half-grown creature, whose bodyhad received a good scrubbing before being taken to Skyrie, and whoseskin looked pink and clean beneath its white bristles. She was asked alarger price than was quite just, as all the other dealers knew, but asall likewise considered "city folks" legitimate prey nobody enlightenedher, and she handed out the money at once; merely requesting its lateowner to take the animal to the corner of the old barn and securelyfasten it there.
Then there followed what father John remarked was "quite a lull in thehog market," and Dorothy begged:
"Let's buy the cow next! There's a lovely one yonder! A soft, fat,ecru-colored one, with the cutest little calf tied to it! Oh! do let'shave the calf any way even if we don't the cow. It's a perfectlyadorable little thing! see how it cocks its head and kicks up itsheels--the sweet!"
The swine and their owners having departed the dooryard wascomparatively clear; and it was noticeable that nobody crowded forwardwhen, at a nod from Mr. Chester, the proprietor of the "ecru-colored"cow and "adorable calf" led them up for closer inspection.
They certainly were attractive specimens of their race, and the Quakermiller who offered them had a most benignant countenance. He seemed topossess the respect and confidence of his neighbors and his words hadthe ring of truthfulness as he stated:
"Thee will go much further and fare much worse before thee has a cowlike Hannah offered thee, friend Martha. She is of good pedigree, as Ican show thee if thee will step over to my mill and look at my ledger.Her yield is ten quarts at a milking, twice a day, and her price isfifty dollars."
Martha Chester caught her breath. She had not anticipated paying morethan half that sum for "just a cow"; even the price of the pig hadstartled her, remembering the small amount of cash she had in her purse.But alas! The demon of possession had seized her! The fact that theporcine "beauty" already tied to her barn was her own roused all her oldfarm-born instinct for "stock," and though she hesitated she did not say"No." Besides, her own half-forgotten grandsire had been a Friend andthis man's speech carried her back to childhood's days and a roomyfarmhouse, with its rich abundance of good things. Was ever a Quakerreally poor?
Now nobody, in his senses, could have compared honest Oliver Sands to atempter; yet his very next words proved temptation to John and MarthaChester, whose Christian names he had somehow acquired and now used sonaturally.
"If thee buys Hannah thee will not regret it. Moreover, because I haveheard the surprising tale of the little maid yonder, I will bind thebargain by giving her the calf, free of charge. I do not like toseparate mother and child, even among brute creatures, unless fromnecessity; and, Dorothy Chester, thee may have my calf."
Of the astonishment of her parents and Dorothy's wild, almostincredulous delight, there is no need to tell. It can be easilysurmised. Sufficient to state that very shortly afterward thebroad-brimmed hat of Oliver Sands was disappearing down the road, whileHannah and her offspring had joined the squealing pig beside the barn.