CHAPTER XIV.
THE CABLEGRAM.
"Tingaling, aling, aling! Phome a ringin' agin! I bet that's Mr. Paul,"declared Caroline, the present queen of the Chatsworth kitchen. "I kintell his ring ev'y time. I'm a goin' ter answer it, Miss Molly."
Molly, who was ironing the baby's cap strings and bibs (work she nevertrusted any one to do), smiled. It was one of Caroline's notions thateach person had a particular way of ringing the telephone. She wasalways on the alert to answer the "phome," and would stop anything shewas doing and tear to be first to take down the receiver, although italways meant that some member of the family must come and receive themessage which usually was perfectly unintelligible to the willing girl.
The telephone was in the great old dining room, because, as Mrs. Brownsaid, every one would call up at meal time and if you were there, youwere there. Molly followed Caroline to the dining room, knowing fullwell that she would be needed when once the preliminaries were over. Shegathered the cap strings and bibs, now neatly ironed and ready for thetrip to Wellington that she would sooner or later have to take.
Still no news from the _Hirondelle de Mer_, that is, no news from Kent.The last boat load of sailors and passengers had been taken up, but noneof them could say for sure whether the two Kentuckians had been saved ornot. One man insisted he had seen the submarine stop and take somethingor some one on board, but when closely questioned he was quite hazy asto his announcement. Jimmy Lufton had kept the cables hot trying to findout something. The Browns and Jim Castleman's sister had communicatedwith each other on the subject of the shipwrecked boys.
"'Low!" she heard Caroline mutter with that peculiarly muffled tone thatmembers of her race always seem to think they must assume when speakingthrough the telephone. "This here is Mrs. Brown's res-i-d-e-n-c-e!Yessir! This here is Ca'line at the phome. Yessir! Miss Molly done madeyo' maw eat her breakfus' in the baid. No, sir, not to say sick in thebaid--yessir, kinder sick on the baid. Yessir! Miss Molly is alaunderin' of the cap ties fer the baby. We is all well, sir, yessir.I'll call Miss Molly."
Of course she hung up the receiver before Molly could drop her capstrings and reach the telephone.
"Oh, Caroline, why did you hang it up? Was it Mr. Paul?"
"Yassum! It were him. I done tole you I could tell his ring. I hung upthe reception cause I didn't know you was so handy, an' I thought if Ikep it down, it might was'e the phome somehow, while I went out to fetchyou."
Molly couldn't help laughing, although it was very irritating forCaroline to be so intensely stupid about telephoning. Paul, knowingCaroline's ways, rang up again in a moment and Molly was there ready toget the message herself.
"Molly, honey, are you well? Is Mother well? How is the baby?"
"All well, Paul! Any news?"
"Good news, Molly!" Molly dropped all the freshly ironed finery andleaned against the wall for support. "A cablegram from Spain! Kent waslanded there by the German submarine."
"Kent! Are you sure?"
"As sure as shootin'! Let me read it to you--'Safe--well, Kent.' TellMother as soon as you can, Molly, but go easy with it. Good news mightknock her out as much as bad news. I'll be out with John as fast as histin Lizzie can buzz us."
"Safe! Kent alive and well!"
Molly's knees were trembling so she could hardly get to her mother'sroom, where that good lady had been pretending to eat her breakfast inbed. Old Shep, standing by her bedside, had a suspiciously greasyexpression around his mouth and was very busy licking his lips, whichimparted the information to the knowing Molly that her mother's daintybreakfast had disappeared to a spot to which it was not destined by thetwo anxious cooks, Molly and Caroline.
"Molly, what is it? I heard the 'phone ring. Was it Paul?"
"Yes, Mother! Good news!"
Mrs. Brown closed her eyes and lay back on her pillows, looking so palethat Molly was scared. How fragile the good lady was! Her profile wasmore cameo-like than ever. These few weeks of waiting, in spite of thebrave front she had shown to the world, had told on her. Could she standgood news any better than she could bad?
"Kent?" she murmured faintly.
"Yes, Mother, a cablegram! 'Safe, well, Kent.'"
"Where?"
"Spain, I don't know what part."
And then the long pent-up flood gates were opened and Mrs. Brown andMolly had such a cry as was never seen or heard of. The cap strings thatMolly had dropped on the floor when she heard that there was news, shehad gathered up in one wild swoop on the way to her mother's room, andthese were first brought into requisition to weep on, and then thesheets and the napkin from the breakfast tray, and at last even old Shephad to get damp.
"I bus' stop ad gall up Zue ad Ad Zarah. Oh, Bother, Bother, how goodGod is!"
"Yes, darling, He is good whether our Kent was spared to us or not,"said Mrs. Brown, showing much more command of her consonants than poorMolly.
Caroline appeared, one big grin, bearing little Mildred in her arms.
"She done woke up an' say ter me: 'Ca'line, what all dis here rumpus'bout?'"
As Mildred had as yet said nothing more than "Goo! Goo!" that broughtthe smiles to Molly and Mrs. Brown.
"Lawd Gawd a mussy! Is Mr. Kent daid? Is that what Mr. Paul done phomed?I mus' run tell Aunt Mary. I boun' ter be the fust one."
"No, no, Caroline! Mr. Kent is alive and well."
"'Live an' well! Well, Gawd be praised! When I come in an' foun' youall a actin' lak what the preacher says will be in the las' day erjedgment, a weepin' an' wailin' an' snatchin' er teeth, I say termyse'f: 'Ca'line, that there dream you had 'bout gittin' ma'id was sho'sign er death, drownin' referred.' Well, Miss Molly, if'n you'll hol'the baby, I'll go tell Aunt Mary the good news, too. Cose 'tain't quiteso scrumptious to be the fust ter carry good news as 'tis bad, but thennews is news."
Sue was telephoned to immediately and joined in the general rejoicing.Aunt Sarah Clay was quite nonplussed for a moment because of theattitude she had taken about the family mourning, but her affection forher sister, which was really very sincere in spite of her successfulmanner of concealing it, came to the fore and she, too, rejoiced. Ofcourse she had to suggest, to keep in character, that Kent might havecommunicated with his family sooner if he only would have exertedhimself, but Molly was too happy to get angry and only laughed.
"Aunt Clay can no more help her ways than a chestnut can its burr." Andthen she remembered how as children they would take sticks and beat thechestnut burrs open and she wondered if a good beating administered onAunt Clay might not help matters. She voiced this sentiment to hermother, who said:
"My dear Molly, Life has administered the beating on your Aunt Clay longago. It is being childless that makes her so bitter. I know that andthat is the reason I am so patient, at least, I try to be patient withher. Of course, she always asserts she is glad she has no children, thatmy children have been a never ending anxiety to me and she is glad sheis spared a similar worry."
"But, Mother, we are not a never-ending anxiety, are we?"
"Yes, my darling, but an anxiety I would not be without for all thewealth of the Indies. Aren't you a little bit anxious all the time aboutyour baby?"
"Why, yes, just a teensy weensy bit, but then I haven't got used to heryet."
"Well, when you get used to her, she will be just that much moreprecious."
"But then I have just one, and you have seven."
"Do you think you love her seven times as much as I love you, or Kent orMilly or any of them?"
"Oh, Mother, of course I don't. I know you love all of us just as muchas I love my little Mildred, only I just don't see how you can."
"Maybe you will have to have seven children to understand how I can, butwhen you realize what it means to have Mildred, maybe you can understandwhat it has meant always to poor Sister Sarah never to have had anychildren."
"I suppose it is hard on her but, Mother dear, if she had had the sevenand you had never had any, do you think for a minute you would have been
as porcupinish and cactus-like in your attitude toward the world andespecially toward Aunt Clay's seven as she is toward yours? Never!"
Molly's statement was not to be combatted, although Mrs. Brown was notsure what she would have been like without her seven anxieties; butMolly knew that she would have been the same lovely person, no matterhow many or how few children she had had.
"I'm going to try to feel differently toward Aunt Clay," she whisperedinto her baby's ear, as she cuddled her up to her after the great riteof bathing her was completed that morning. "Just think what it must benever to hold your own baby like this! Poor Aunt Clay! No wonder she ishard and cold--but goodness me, I'm glad I did not draw her for aparent." The baby looked up into her mother's eyes with a gurgle andcrow, as though she, too, were pleased that her Granny was as she wasand not as Aunt Clay was.
"We are going to see Daddy soon, do you know that, honey baby?" AndMolly clasped her rosy infant to her breast with a heart full ofthanksgiving that now there was no dire reason for her remaining inKentucky longer.
A farewell visit must be paid to Aunt Mary. The baby was dressed inone of her very best slips and Molly put on her new blue suit for theoccasion, as she well knew how flattered the old woman was by such anattention.
"Well, bless Gawd, if here ain't my Molly baby and the little Miss Millyall dressed up in they best bibantucker! I been a lyin' here a dreamin'you was all back in the carstle, that there apple tree what youyoungsters done built a house up'n an' Miss Milly done sent me to sayyou mus' come an wash yo' faceanhans fer dinner, jes' lak she done amillium times, an' who should be up in the tree with you an' that thereKent but yo' teacher an' that there Judy gal."
Molly laughed as she always did when Aunt Mary called Professor EdwinGreen, her teacher.
"Yes, chile, they was up there with you an' Kent up'n had the imprenceto tell me to go tell his maw that he warn't comin' ter no dinner,'cause he an' that there Judy gal was a keepin' house up the tree." Theold woman chuckled with delight at Kent's "imprence."
"I shouldn't be astonished if they did go to housekeeping soon, AuntMary, but I don't fancy it will be up a tree."
"An' what I done say all the time 'bout that there Kent not beingdrownded? When the niggers came a whining 'roun' me a sayin' he was sho'daid 'cause they done had signs an' omens, I say ter them I done had mo'ter do with that there Kent than all of 'em put together an' I lak terknow what they be havin' omens 'bout him when I ain't had none. If'nthey was any omens a floatin' 'roun' they would a lit on me an' not onthat triflin' Buck Jourdan. He say he dream er teeth an' 'twas sho signer death. I tell him mebbeso but 'twas mo'n likely he done overworkedhis teeth a eatin' er my victuals, a settin' 'roun' here dayanight astrummin' on his gittah, an' what's mo' I done tole him he better gitthe blacksmith ter pull out one er his jaw teeth what ain't mo'n asnaggle. Sukey low she goin' ter send him in ter Lou'ville ter one erthese here tooth dentists, but I say the blacksmith is jes' as good ahan' at drawin' teeth as they is, an' he chawge the same as ter shoe amule, an' that ain't much."
"But Aunt Mary, I should think if there is anything serious the matterwith Buck's teeth he had better see a dentist. The blacksmith mightbreak his tooth off."
"Who? This here blacksmith? Lawsamussy, honey, why he's that strong an'survigorous that he would bust Buck's jaw long befo' he break his tooth.He'll grab hol' the tooth and put his knee in Buck's chist an' he gonterhol' on till either Buck or the tooth comes."
A groan from the next room, the lean-to kitchen, gave evidence that Buckwas in there, an unwilling eavesdropper since the method of theblacksmith on his suffering molar was the topic.
"Don't you think the baby has grown, Aunt Mary?" asked Molly, mercifullychanging the subject.
"Yes, she done growed some an' she done growed prettier. I seed all thetime she were gonter be pretty, an' when that there Paul came down herean' give it to me that the new baby looked lak a pink mummy--I donetol' him that I didn't know what a mummy were, but what ever it were,the new baby didn't look no mo' lak one than he did when he was born,'cause of all the wrinkly, scarlet little Injuns he would a fetched thecake. That done dried that there Paul up an he ain't been so bombastsince bout the looks er no new babies." The old woman chuckled withdelight in remembrance of her repartee.
"Aunt Mary, I think you are feeling better, aren't you? You seem muchmore lively than when I saw you last."
"'Cose I is feelin' better. Ain't we done heard good news from thatthere Kent?"
"But I thought you knew all the time he was all right."
"Well now, so I did, so fur as I knew anything, but they was times whenI doubted, an' those times pulled me back right smart. Why, honey, Iused ter pray the Almighty if he lacked a soul ter jes' tak me. I is ano 'count ole nigger on the outside but mebbe my soul is some good yit.If I could give up my life fur one er Miss Milly's chillun, I'd beproud ter do it!"
"Oh, Aunt Mary, you have been so good to us always!"
"Lawsamussy, chile! What I here fur but ter be good ter my whitefolks? They's been good ter me--as good as gole. I ain't never wantedfur nothin' an' I ain't never had a hard word from Carmichael orBrown, savin', of cose, Miss Sary. She is spoke some hard words in herday, but she didn' never mean nothin' by them words. I don't bear nogrudge against po' Miss Sary. The good Lord done made her a leetleawry an' 'tain't fur me ter be the one ter try to straighten her out.Sometimes whin I lies here a thinkin' it seems ter me mebbe some folksis made lak Miss Sary jes' so they kin be angels on earth like yo'maw. Miss Sary done sanctified yo' maw. She done tried her an' rubbedaginst her, burnt her in de fire of renunciation and drinched her inthe waters of reproachment until yo maw is come out refimed gold."
"Maybe you are right, Aunt Mary. I am trying to be nicer about the wayI feel about Aunt Clay myself. I think if I feel differently, maybe AuntClay would feel differently toward me. She does not like me, and whyshould she, since I don't really like her?"
"I don't want ter take no Christian thoughts from yo' min' an' heart,honey chile, but the good you'll git from thinkin' kin' things 'boutMiss Sary will be all yo' own good. Miss Sary ain't gonter be nodiffrent. She done got too sot in her ways. The leper ain't gonterchange his spots now no mo'n it did in the time er Noah, certainly noole tough leper lak Miss Sary."
It was hard to tell the old woman good-by. Every time Molly leftChatsworth she feared it would be the last farewell to poor old AuntMary. She had been bedridden now for many months, but she hung on tolife with a tenacity that was astonishing.
"Cose, I is ready ter go whin the Marster calls," she would say, "butI ain't a hurryin' of him. A creakin' do' hangs long on its hinges an'the white folks done iled up my hinges so, what with good victualswith plenty er suption in 'em an' a little dram now an' then 'cordin'ter the doctor's subscription, that sometimes I don't creak at all. Imay git up out'n this here baid 'fo long an' be as spry as the nex'. Iwouldn't min' goin' so much if I jes' had mo' idee what Heaven is lak.I'm so feard it will be strange ter me. I don't want ter walk on nogoldin' streets. Gold ain't no better ter walk on than bricks. MissMilly done read me the Psalm what say: 'He maketh me to lay down inthe green pastures.' Now that there piece sounds mighty pretty--jes'lak singin', but I ain't never been no han' to set on the damp groun'an' Heaven or no Heaven, I low it would give me a misery ter be adoin' it now; an' as fer layin' on it, no'm! I wants a good rockin'cheer, an' I wants it in the house, an' when I wants ter res' myse'f,a baid is good enough fer me."
The old woman's theology was a knotty problem for all of the Brownfamily. They would read to her from the Bible and reason with her, buther preconceived notion of Heaven was too much for them. She believedfirmly in the pearly gates and the golden streets, and freely announcedshe would rather have her own cabin duplicated on the other side thanall the many mansions, and her own whitewashed gate with hinges madefrom the soles of old shoes than the pearly gates.
"What I want with a mansion? The cabin whar I been a livin' all my lifeis plenty good enough for this old nigger. An
' what's mo, blue grass agrowin' on each side of a shady lane is better'n golden streets. I ain'ta goin' ter be hard-headed bout Heaven, but I hope the Marster will letme settle in some cottage an' let it be in the country where I kin raisea few chickens an' mebbe keep a houndog."
"I am sure the Master will let you have whatever you want, dear AuntMary," Molly would say.
"But if'n he does that, I'll get too rotten spiled ter stay in Heaven.He better limit me some, or I'll feel too proudified even fer a angel."