CHAPTER V
BIRD'S-NEST
"Joshua Leavitt was Justin's son and he married Abigail Clark over atIsle Le Motte, and they had three sons, Joshua and John and Jacob, allupright, settled young men. Let me see, it was either John or Jacobwas killed in the war of 1812, wasn't it, B'lindy?"
Nancy's mind was working faster than the knitting needles in herfingers. For three days now she had sat very close to Aunt Sabrina,learning "all about the Leavitts."
"It's lucky I have a good head for history," she said to herself,nodding to show Aunt Sabrina that she was deeply interested in theseJoshuas and Johns and Jacobs. "If I'm here long enough she _may_ getdown to the present generation! Joshua--John--Jacob," she repeatedsoftly.
"Dear me, where _is_ B'lindy? My memory isn't as good as it used tobe. I'm growing to be an old woman. But the Bible in there tells howeither John or Jacob fell at Fort Niagara. The Leavitts have alwaysbeen brave men--and men of honor!"
At this point Nancy, quite involuntarily, dropped a stitch. The suddencolor that flushed her cheeks escaped Aunt Sabrina's notice, forB'lindy's voice came suddenly through the open door.
"Miss Sabriny, if Jon'than don't get that cornstarch from Eaton's therewon't be no cornstarch puddin' for dinner. He's worse than no goodround the house and a body takes more steps huntin' him than doin' allhis chores for him!"
Nancy sprang to her feet. "Oh, _please_ let me find him! I--I'd loveto walk around a bit, too. I'll speak very sternly, B'lindy--you justsee if he doesn't go at once!" Tossing her red wool into the cushionof the old rocker she had been occupying, Nancy was off before theastonished B'lindy or Aunt Sabrina could utter a protest.
She found Jonathan at his everlasting digging. Nancy shook himplayfully by the arm. Jonathan could not guess that her eyes werebright because, for a few moments at least, she had escaped from theoppressiveness of Aunt Sabrina and her ancestors; his old heart warmedto her infectious smile.
"B'lindy's as cross as can _be_! She must have the cornstarch at_once_! I hate cornstarch pudding worse than poison, but you musthurry as fast as you can, and _please_ go by the lilac side of thehouse, because Miss Sabrina is sitting over on the hollyhock porchtalking ancestors and I want her to think that it's taking me foreverto find you!"
"Cornstarch! Bless my boots!" A hundred wrinkles crossed the weatherbeaten old face. "I'll go off to Eaton's fast's ever I can, Missy."
"Nice Jonathan," and picking a posy, Nancy stuck it into the buttonholeof the gardener's sweater. "And _I'm_ going fast's ever I can,straight out to the lake."
With a wave of her hand she flew down the path through the row of oldapple trees. She wanted to shout and to sing, but as that mightstartle the entire island, she indulged in a joyous handspring instead!
"Of course, Anne, darling, if _you_ could see me you'd lookshocked--you'd say, 'Nancy Leavitt, when _are_ you going to grow up!'But, Annie, if growing up and up and up is going to be to grow likeyour Aunt Sabrina, sitting all the day long dwelling on the gloriesthat are past and gone--never--never--_never_!" The girl flung herarms out toward the blue waters of the lake. "If I had a wish I'd wishthat I could swim straight out across you--to those purplemountains--over there!"
It was very still in the orchard; cool, too, for the hot June sun onlypenetrated in spots the outspreading branches of the old trees.Gradually the tumult of longing in Nancy's mind quieted; a sense ofdelicious quiet inspired her.
"It's heavenly here--just as though I was all alone in the world." Sheturned slowly around. Not a glimpse of any habitation could be seen,the rows of trees hid even Happy House. And beyond was the stretch ofsparkling water, with its rim of hazy, purple hills.
Nancy ran to the apple tree nearest the cliff. It was very old, itsbranches grew close to the ground. In a moment she had climbed themand had perched herself comfortably upon one with her back restingagainst another.
"It must be nice to be a bird," she mused, touching lightly the glossyleaves about her. "Playing in tree-tops and when you're bored todeath, simply flying off without so much as an excuse! Or awood-nymph," wistfully. Then her drooping shoulder suddenlystraightened, under the stimulation of an idea. She sprang to theground. "Oh, _rapture_!" she cried, and raced back toward Happy House.
Half an hour later Jonathan, having made peace with B'lindy, found herin the old carriage house. Two shiny nails protruding from her teethand a hammer in her hands betrayed that she had found his tool-box.Her face, through smudges of dust, wore a look of determination.
"You've come just in time to help me, Jonathan. I must get the top of_this_ box off and fasten it to _that_ box--so it'll open and shut.Then you must find a piece of leather for hinges and some oil cloth. Ithink that you have everything on earth hidden in this place--exceptcarriages!"
Because, with Jonathan, it had been love at first sight, he obeyed withonly a "well, well, Missy." With the boards of one box he made a snugdoor for the other box and he found, hidden away, some precious leatherthat could be cut into strips for hinges, and a square of oil cloth andcanvas, too. There were more nails in the tool-box, and though oldJonathan guarded that tool-box like a treasure-chest, he'd give Nancyanything it held!
They labored feverishly, and within an hour Nancy declared their workdone.
"Now come with me, Jonathan, and I'll show you my secret." She liftedthe box and started toward the orchard, Jonathan trudging after her.
When they reached the last tree near the cliff Nancy set her burdendown. She turned to her companion with a solemn face.
"Jonathan, no one is going to know this secret but you and me! I am adramatist. You don't look as though you knew what that was, but it issomething that it's very, _very_ hard to be, and I shall have towork--like everything! Right up on the branch of that tree is whereI'm going to work. I want you to take those nails I put in your pocketand fasten this box securely to the trunk of the tree. Then I'm goingto keep all my things right in it and fasten it with this padlockI--borrowed--from your tool-box. It'll be just like a nest--and I'llsteal out here and work and work and then, some day, when I'm famous,all the newspapers will print a story telling how I wrote my first playin an apple tree and that it was a secret between you and me, andthey'll want _your_ picture! Now, right here, Jonathan. I'll hold itand you nail it tight."
Jonathan _didn't_ know what a dramatist was, but he did know that his"little Missy," perched on the old branch, was as pretty as any birdand her eyes as bright as the sunshine that filtered through the leavesof the tree.
"Oh, that's just fine," cried Nancy, springing to the ground to surveytheir work. "It's as safe as can be and you've helped me a _lot_, youdear old thing, you. Now we must hurry home or B'lindy's dinner willbe cold and remember, cross your heart, this is a solemn, solemnsecret!"
She drew her fingers across his worn, gray sweater, and he nodded inacceptance of the mysterious sign. And as he followed her back throughthe orchard to the house something within his breast seemed to sing theway it did each spring when he found the first crocus peeping upthrough the frosty earth.
Nancy found it difficult to keep from bolting through her dinner. Buta tiny sense of guilt at having left "Joshua and Jacob" so abruptlymade her very attentive to Aunt Sabrina's long story of how the bluechina was first brought to Happy House.
Scarcely had Miss Sabrina's door closed upon her for her hour of rest,however, than Nancy flew to her own room. She gathered up her preciouspaper and pencils, a knife and a worn manuscript case, a few favoritebooks and a tattered dictionary, and started out on tip-toe through thehall toward the stairs. But, though her step was light, its soundcaught a certain patient ear nearby.
"Nancy! Oh, Nancy!"
Nancy remembered, then, remorsefully, that not once that day had sherun in to see poor little Aunt Milly. With her treasures in her armsshe went straight to her. In the smile that greeted her from the couchby the window, there was not one sign to indicate that Aunt Milly hadbeen waiting the w
hole long morning for her to come.
"I've been so busy," explained Nancy, dropping her load. "I have amind to tell you, Aunt Milly. I meant it to be a secret, only Jonathanknows, because he had to help me. And I'd like _you_ to know, too.Anyway, a secret's more fun when more of us know it! You see, I'dgotten as far as Jacob in my lessons on Leavitts, and then Aunt Sabrinacouldn't remember whether it was he or his brother that was killed inthe war of 1812, and B'lindy rudely interrupted just because she had nocorn starch! Oh, Aunt Milly, I'm dreadful, but I couldn't have stoodit another _minute_--I could have hugged B'lindy and her pudding! Why,I've sat for three days straight in a horrible stiff chair listening tomusty, dusty tales, and I wanted to scream! So I said _I'd_ findJonathan and I bolted--and I _stayed_ away! And out in the orchard,right close to the bank, the grandest idea came to me. To fix a nest!And Jonathan helped me. We made a little box, all waterproof, andnailed it to the tree to keep my things in--these," indicating the pileat her feet. "And I'm going to hide there--and work! And that'sanother secret. I'm writing a play! I wrote two in college and theEnglish professor said they were unusual and the Senior class gave one.And I have a _real_ one, almost done. _Now_ you know the secret."
"Oh, _Nancy_!" said Aunt Milly softly, two bright spots of color on hercheeks.
"You see I can steal out there and sit on that comfy branch and thinkI'm all alone in the world. Such beautiful thoughts will come to me!It'll be like a bird's nest."
"Oh, Nancy," Aunt Milly said again, with a tragic look in her eyes thatthe youthful Nancy could not read. "I wish I could see you there--justonce! Are the trees big, dear? And is the grass real green?" Therewas a little tremble in the sweet voice. "Seems to me it used to beploughed up 'round the apple trees."
Over Nancy rushed the heartbreaking thought that poor Miss Milly hadnot seen the orchard for years and years. She threw both arms aboutthe frail form. With a torrent of words she pictured the raspberrypatch, old Jonathan's lettuce and radishes and beets and beans andslender cornstalks working up through the soft earth, and the giantapple trees beyond, the lake "just like diamonds sprinkled oversapphire blue velvet" and the purple hills in the background. And allthe while she talked, Nancy felt little quivers passing through theform she held.
"It--isn't--_fair_!" she ended, enigmatically. She sat still for amoment, staring at Miss Milly. With her bright color Aunt Milly didn'tlook at all like a helpless invalid. "Maybe----" began Nancy, thenstopped short. She rose abruptly to her feet. "I've got an idea thatbeats my bird's-nest all to pieces! I can't tell you now because you'dbe frightened to death, but it's going to be wonderful! Let me hidethis truck under your couch and now be very, very good until I comeback. I must find B'lindy at once."
Nancy, fired by her sudden purpose, interrupted B'lindy in the last ofher "drying up" and demanded to know where she could find Mr. Webb.When B'lindy "'lowed she wa'n't his keeper, but he's most al'lashangin' 'round the smithy or Eaton's or the post-office or the hotel,'cept when you wanted him, and then he wa'n't hangin' 'round nowhere,"Nancy started off down the path, bareheaded.
Fortune favored her, for Mr. Webb was "hangin' round the smithy andvery delighted to see Miss Anne!" He had been wondering a lot aboutthe coming of the girl to Happy House. "Somethin' sure to come of it,"he had reflected again and again.
Of course, he assured Nancy, he'd do anything he could for her. AndNancy was sure they might find all that they needed right there in thesmithy.
"It must be very comfortable and have some springs--and be safe, too.And if you can find some wheels with rubber tires--off an old babycarriage, they'll run more smoothly. And the seat must be big enoughfor a lady--but she's a _small_ lady!"
Jonathan thought he "caught her idee. Old Mrs. King, over at NorthHero, couldn't walk a step 'count of rheumatism, and she had a rig-upsuch as Nancy was describing." Yes, Timothy Hopkins at the smithy hadmost every kind of a thing about and he'd see what he could do, andMiss Anne could run down in the morning, early, before the stagestarted for North Hero.
"And, Webb," Nancy levelled her sweetest smile, "don't even _try_ tothink whom it's for--it's a secret."