Read Happy House Page 15


  CHAPTER XV

  GUNS AND STRING BEANS

  "Claire darling--

  "Almost two weeks since I wrote to you. Will you love me any more?

  "As I write I am all alone on the edge of a very little pool of lightreflected from my little lamp that was only intended to see me into bedand not to burn half the night through while I write to my pal.

  "Is this summer night as perfect where you are, Claire? (Tush--you'veprobably been playing tennis and dancing and flirting until you are tooexhausted to care about anything except the breakfast bell disturbingyou.) But up here it's _wonderful_! The sky is blue-black velvet, allstudded with stars that seem suspended--they are so very close. Andthe air just caresses you! And there are the sweetest smells, grassyand earthy and all fragrant of roses. There are queer little noises,too--as though the night was full of fairy creatures. And I heard awhip-or-will! And a screech-owl, way, way off.

  "Since I wrote to you last I have 'put my foot in it' again! Terribly!It's too long a story to write to you--there isn't nearly oil enoughfor that--but I skated over the thin ice and reached safety--in otherwords, I am still here! And, Nancy, I know, now, even Aunt Sabrina isbeginning to like me! Do you know why? Because I lost my head andtold her what I thought was the matter with her and Happy House and Idon't suppose anyone _dared_ to tell her that before. (I called herLeavitt traditions tommy-rot.) And I think she _enjoyed_ thesensation! Anyway, she seems to treat me now like Somebody and shesaid something the other day about how lovely the autumns were on theIsland, as though she took it for granted I'd be here then!

  "Claire, what if I can _never_ get away? Did I dream, when I tookAnne's shoes (to speak in figures) and put them on, where they'd leadme? And sometimes I think that I will not see the end of the trail fora long time. I'm not crazy to see it, either, for it _must_ end inDisaster!

  "I am beginning to understand these people, too. I--in my usual way,judged them too quickly! One must know their history to knowthem--know what a splendid background they have. Aunt Sabrina hastaken up Ezekiel where she left off and tells me stories about theChamplain Valley. Of course, I know she is doing it, because I calledthe Leavitt glories 'tommy-rot' and when I read, in B'lindy's book(gotten up, of course, to bait tourists) what these Islanders _have_done, I feel cheap and small and insignificant beside all these peoplewho have such heroic grandfathers and great grandfathers.

  "I suppose, all over the world, Island people must be different frompeople whose lands lie directly contingent with other lands and people.The very waters that shut away these precious Hero Islands wash theirlives back upon themselves--they live in--they can't help it. Theworld that rushes on so fast for us, living in the big cities, scarcelystirs them here! These folks talk about Ethan Allen and RemembranceBaker as though it was only yesterday they walked down under the elmsof the village street! They all eat off from very old china and sit invery old chairs--precious because some hero dear to the Island has satin them!

  "(All of this is not original with me--The Hired Man said it.)

  "So just as I finished grandly saying to Aunt Sabrina that it didn'tmatter at _all_ what the people, who are dead and gone, have done, I'mbeginning to see--like a picture opened before my eyes--that it _does_matter--quite a little! They, these dead and gone people, leave uswhat they have done; if it's bad, we have to pay for it, some way orother--if it's noble, we have to be worthy of it! _That_ philosophy isall mine and not the Hired Man's.

  "There are a great many things about the aforesaid Hired Man (I neverthink of him as that) that perplex me. He is a great big riddle. Heis more interesting than any one I ever met before. I wish you werehere so we could talk him over the way we used to the Knights of thePink Parlor. That he is good looking is not what seems so queer,because I suppose there _are_ good-looking hired men as well asgood-looking street car conductors or undertakers. He is sounderstandable--he is like you and Anne and Dad. And he knows so muchabout everything! He must have gone to college--he talks just like acollege man. But once when I hinted he smiled and told me that he was'still a student in the college of Experience, where after all onecould learn more than at even the great universities.'

  "He is Mysterious. After I've been with him I plan it all out--what hemust have been and why he fell to the level of this sort of work; thenthe next time I see him he says something that makes me change all myideas. I am sure he is concealing something--he simply will not sayone word about himself! I don't believe it's anything as bad as murderor forgery or--anything like that, because he has such honest eyes, andthey look right straight through you. It's probably some sorrow or--ordisappointment. Sometimes his eyes look very tired, as though they hadseen some terrible tragedy, though mostly always they're just jolly.

  "He's wonderful with Nonie and Davy--they adore him. He thinks of somany nice things for them to do. He says once he was a scoutmaster inthe Boy Scouts. I think he almost gave something away then, for, afterhe said it, he looked so funny and wouldn't say another word.

  "He treats me as though I was another boy just a little older thanDavy. And after the silly men we knew in college it's a relief to findanyone like Peter Hyde, even though he is a hired man. I suppose it'sbecause he's probably had a hard time--has had to make his way, he'shad all the nonsense knocked out of him! I am sure, if one could teachhim to dance and then set him down in the middle of your mother'sliving-room you'd all go crazy over him. Now isn't that some HiredMan? Dear me, I spend more time wondering about him! Then I laugh atmyself. Do you remember the Russian who came to college last year--howwe all thought he must be a Russian prince and then we found out he'dbeen born on the Lower East Side?"

  * * * * *

  There were other doubts concerning Peter Hyde that Nancy did _not_confide to Claire. For the past two years and more, in Nancy's honestsoul, all men between twenty-one and forty were divided into twoclasses; those who had gone over to France and those who had not. IfPeter Hyde _had_ gone there was nothing in any act or word thatsignified it; if he had _not_ gone, why not? Was _that_ what he washiding?

  She had resorted, feeling very contemptible as she did so, to littletraps to draw him out, but he had invariably escaped them--sometimeschanging the subject abruptly, other times openly laughing and sayingnothing. Very much against her will she felt growing within her acontempt for him; almost a dislike of his personal appearance, soobviously healthy and able to have fought for his country! And yet,loyalty had kept her from confiding this to Claire.

  A sense of fairness, too, urged her to give Peter the benefit of thedoubt until she knew. "I'll just ask him," she decided resolutely."I'll ask him right out--the very first chance I get!"

  The opportunity to learn the truth had come on the very afternoonfollowing the night she had written to Claire. Nonie and Davy had notappeared for a swim, so Peter had suggested a walk. He wanted Nancy togo over, with him, the new work he had started on the Judson ten-acrepiece, the improvements in the barns, the rotary gardens.

  It was the first time that Peter Hyde had talked much about his work.Nancy, who would have said turnips grew on bushes, for all she knew,found herself, under his instruction, suddenly absorbed in thescientific growing of beans and corn and potatoes; in the making of onestrip of garden produce three different food products in rotation; inirrigation and drainage; in sanitary stables and electrically lightedchicken houses.

  "You know there's poetry in these growing things," Peter cried, wavinghis hand out over the tender stalks of corn. "You get all the Art youwant! Can you find anywhere a more wonderful picture than that wavingfield of oats--pale green against that sky? And in a few weeks it'llbe yellow. See that lettuce green, too. And music--you can stand in afield of corn when the wind is blowing a little and you will hear asymphony!"

  Nancy, surprised, watched his glowing face with interest Here wasindeed a new side of the Hired Man! He went on:

  "And business, say, there's a pr
actical side to this farming that oughtto satisfy any man. Wits, science, strategy, instinct, plaincommon-sense--it's all as necessary right here as in the biggestbusiness concern in the world. And if a fellow wants a _fight_--well,he has it when he goes up against Mother Earth. We're used to thinkingof her as kindly, generous, lavishing her favors! I've had anotherpicture--she's worse than a Czar! She's exacting, she's moody, she'sundependable, at times. I suppose she does it to try out herchildren--but anyway, the farmer has to fight every minute!"

  He stopped suddenly. "I'm boring you to death, maybe!" He laughedapologetically. "It's always been a hobby of mine--this working withthe earth. I never thought I'd do anything with it--until the war!Then I realized how much a nation's prosperity depends upon how itssoil is used. And that's where our government's been short-sighted.They haven't paid enough attention to the small farmers. Of course,they try out some good things and publish bulletins, but the farmersought to _know_ how, by certain scientific changes, the productivenessof the land can be doubled! Take Judson, here. He's been farming thiswhole place just the way his grandfather did before him! He's readabout new-fangled things, but he's afraid to try them--he doesn't knowhow to begin! Think how many Judsons there are all over the world! SoI'm trying to show him by actually working out some experiments I'vetested. If it's a success, if his account at the bank at North Heroshows it at the end of the season--why, there isn't anything Judsonwill be afraid to try. And think what it would mean to this country ifit had a million farmers like Judson! And see how easily they can beshown!"

  Nancy's face was alight with enthusiasm. With her vivid imaginationshe pictured a glorious army of Peter Hydes going out over the land,rescuing the poor farmers, putting new weapons into their hands!

  "It's wonderful! And it's--brave!" she added, "because it isn't as ifyou went off with a whole lot of others with bands and flags flying!"

  She was suddenly struck with remorse that she had, in her heart, sowronged Peter Hyde! She had thought him a slacker when he hadshouldered the harder task! Something in the earnestness stillreflected on his face made her own her guilt.

  "I can't be glad _enough_ you've told me all this! I didn't know! Inever lived in the country. I just thought things to eat grew up anyold way. And all this time I have been thinking horrid things aboutyou because I thought you hadn't gone to war! I thought, maybe, youwere way off up here to escape the feeling everyone had for slackers!You can imagine, now, when I see what you really _are_ doing, howashamed I feel! Will you forgive me?"

  Peter's frank amusement made Nancy feel very uncomfortable and small.But then she deserved it! He held out his hand as a sign of hisforgiveness. There was still laughter in his eyes as he regarded her.

  "I suppose that was very natural! Most of the young fellows you knowmust have gone over!" he said, seriously enough.

  She wanted very much to tell him of her father--how he had followed themen over the top; how he had worked day after day getting the storiesback to the people at home and spent night after night tracing the"missing," or writing letters for the boys who never got further backthan the first dressing-stations and who wanted mothers and fathers andsweethearts to know that they'd had their chance and had made the mostof it! But she couldn't, for she was supposed to be Anne and Anne'sfather had died when she was a little girl.

  She told him of a few of the college men she had known, who had gone,eagerly, at the first call.

  "They didn't even want to wait to get commissions! _They_ just wantedto fight!"

  The revelation of Peter Hyde made her think of Claire's brother. Shetold him about Claire and Anne--she called Anne, vaguely, "anothergirl." "Claire's a darling and we just love her, but we can't _abide_her brother! Of course it's not reasonable, because we've never laideyes on him, but we've heard enough from Claire to know just what he'slike. I suppose the war made a few like him--he was brave enough overthere and lucky to have all his recommendations recognized, but it madehim _so_ conceited! He came back here and just strutted around,everywhere. Claire says her mother's friends used to have _teas_ forhim--he'd go to them and speak and show his medals! Claire was madover him. She was so disappointed because I came here instead of goingto Merrycliffe. But I couldn't see myself spending my time petting herbeloved Lion! I knew I'd be rude and say just what I thought."

  Nancy and Peter were sitting upon the stump of a tree near the cliff.Peter suddenly rose and walked to the edge--his back square to Nancy.After a moment he turned.

  "Thought I heard something down there," he explained, at herquestioning glance. "Don't blame you for disliking that sort--likeClaire's brother! They're a rummy kind! I had a friend a lot likehim. But--maybe, it wasn't all his fault--about the teas and things!Maybe his mother got 'em started and he didn't want to hurt her!"

  It was like Peter Hyde, so gentle with children and animals, to standup now for even Barry Wallace's kind.

  "You're just like Dad," Nancy cried warmly, then stopped, a littlefrightened. But of course Peter had not been in Freedom long enough toknow anything about the Leavitts.

  He bowed with great ceremony, one hand over his heart.

  "If Dad's like daughter, I thank you for the compliment. Now, if youwill linger longer with me I'd like to show you Mrs. Sally and herbabies. Sally is my experimental pig. I've built a piggery for herwith a plunge and a sunken garden, and if you don't declare that Sallyenjoys such improved surroundings, I'll know my whole summer's work's afailure."

  Nancy walked over the rough ground toward the barns with a light heart.She had a delightful sense of being "pals" with this new PeterHyde--who, while the Barry Wallaces were swaggering around with theirmedals, was up here in an out-of-the-way corner of the nation, fightinga new sort of a fight! He actually _wanted_ her approval of his newpiggery!