CHAPTER XIII
"THE GOOD LUCK"
Billy went to work the very next day at "The Good Luck." First, heput up a little hut, which looked more like an Indian wigwam thanany thing else. This was for him and Mr. Scholfield to sleep in.
"We can't take time to go home nights till we get this thingstarted," said Billy. "If we've got ore here, the sooner we get someon't out the better; an' if we hain't got ore here, the sooner wefind that out the better."
All day long, day after day, Billy and Mr. Scholfield dug, till theyhad a big hole, as deep as a well, dug in the ground. Then they puta windlass at the top, with a long rope fastened to it, and a bucketon the end of the rope. This bucket they lowered down into the hole,just as you lower a water-bucket down into a well; then they filledit full of the stones which they thought had silver in them, andthen turned the windlass and drew it up.
Mr. Scholfield pounded some of these stones very fine, and meltedthem with his blow-pipe, and got quite big buttons of silver out ofthem. He gave some of these to Mr. March. When he showed these toNelly, she exclaimed:---
"Oh! these are a great deal bigger than any I saw in Mr. Kleesman'soffice. Our mine must be a good one."
Mr. Scholfield was in great glee. He made the most extravagantstatements, and talked very foolishly about the mine: said he wouldnot take half a million of dollars for his third of it; and so on,till old, experienced miners shook their heads and said he wascrazy. But, when they saw the round buttons of shining silver whichhe had extracted from the stones, they stopped shaking their heads,and thought perhaps he was right. The fame of "The Good Luck" spreadall over town; and, as Billy had said there would be, there weremany who persisted in calling the mine "The Nelly." Almost everybodyin Rosita knew Nelly by sight by this time; and it gave the minemuch greater interest in their eyes that it had been found by thisgood, industrious little girl, whom everybody liked. Whenever Nellywent to town now, people asked her about her mine. She alwaysanswered:--
"It isn't my mine: it is my papa's."
"But you found it," they would say.
"I found the black hat it wore on its head," was Nelly's usualreply: "that is all. Mr. Scholfield and Billy found the silver."
It happened that it was nearly three weeks before Rob and Nelly wentto Mr. Kleesman's house again. They had now a new interest, whichmade them hurry through with all they had to do in Rosita, so as tohave time on their way home to stop at "The Good Luck," and watchBilly and Mr. Scholfield at work. It was an endless delight to themto see the windlass wind, wind, wind, and watch the heavy bucket ofstone slowly coming up to the mouth of the hole. Then Billy wouldlet Rob take the bucket and empty it on the pile of shining gray orewhich grew higher and higher every day. Sometimes the childrenstayed here so late that it was after dark when they reached home;and at last Mrs. March told them that they must not go to the mineevery time they went to Rosita: it made their walk too long. Shesaid they might go only every other time.
"Let's go Tuesdays," said Rob.
"Why?" said Nelly.
"It never seems half so long from Tuesday till Friday as it doesfrom Friday to Tuesday," said Rob.
"Why, why not?" asked Nelly.
"Oh, I don't know," said Rob. "Sunday's twice as long as any otherday: I guess that's it."
"But you've got the Sunday each week," exclaimed Nelly: "it isn'tany shorter from Tuesday to Tuesday than from Friday to Friday: whata silly boy! The Sunday comes in all the same. Don't you see?"
Rob looked puzzled.
"I don't care," he said "it seems ever so much shorter."
The first day that they were not to go to the mine, Rob said:--
"See here, Nell: if we can't go to the mine, let's go and see oldMr. Kleesman. His furnace must be done by this time. Perhaps he'llbe making an assay to-day."
"Oh, good!" said Nelly. "I declare I'd almost forgotten all abouthim: hadn't you?"
"No, indeed!" said Rob: "I liked the mine better; but let's go thereto-day."
"And we'll go and eat our lunch at Ulrica's too," said Nelly. "Wehaven't taken it there for ever so long: she said so Tuesday. We'llgo to-day."
"So we will," said Rob. "Perhaps she'll have stewed chicken."
"Oh, for shame, Rob!" said Nelly.
"What for?" said Rob: "I don't see any shame. Where's the shame?"
"Shame to think about something to eat when you go to see people,"replied Nelly.
"Now, Nell March, didn't you think of it, honest Indian?" said Rob.
"Well, it's worse to say it," stammered Nelly. "Perhaps I did thinkof it, just a little, little bit; but I always try not to."
"Ha! ha! Miss Nell! I've caught you this time; and I don't thinkit's a bit worse to say it: so, there! Stewed chicken! stewedchicken!" And Rob danced along in front of Nelly, shouting the wordsin her very face. Nelly could not help laughing, though she wasangry.
"Rob," she said, "you can be the worst torment I ever saw."
"That's only because you haven't had any other torment but me,"cried Rob, still dancing along backwards in front of Nelly.
"Hullo! hullo!" said a loud, gruff voice just behind him: "don't runme down, young man! Which side of the way will you have, or will youhave both?"
Very much confused, Rob turned and found himself nearly in the armsof an old man with rough clothes on, but with such a nice,benevolent face that Rob knew he was not going to be angry with him.
"I beg your pardon, sir," he said. "I didn't see you."
"Naturally you didn't, since you have no eyes in the back of yourhead," said the old man. "Do you always walk backwards, or is itonly when you are teasing your sister?"
Nelly hastened to defend Rob.
"Oh, sir," she said, "he was not really teasing me: he was only infun."
The old man smiled and nodded.
"That's right! that's right!" he said.
They had just now reached Mr. Kleesman's steps. Rob sprang up, twosteps at a time.
"What!" said the old man, "are you going in here? So am I." And theyall went in together.
Mr. Kleesman was very glad to see Nelly.
"I haf miss you for many days," he said. "Vy is it you not come moreto see assay?"
"We have been very busy," said Nelly: "and have not stayed in townany longer than we needed to sell our things."
"I know! I know!" said Mr. Kleesman: "you haf been at the Goot Luckmine!"
"Why, who told you about it?" exclaimed Rob.
"Ach!" said Mr. Kleesman, "you tink dat mines be to be hid in distown? Not von but knows of 'Goot Luck,' dat the little maid-childhaf found;" and he looked at Nelly and smiled affectionately. "Andnot von but iss glad," he added, patting her on the head.
Then he turned to the old man who had come in with the children, andsaid, politely:--
"Vat can I do for you, sir?"
The man took off his hat and sat down, and pulled out of his pocketa little bag of stones, and threw it on the table.
"Tell me if that's worth any thing," he said.
Mr. Kleesman took a small stone out of the bag, and called:--
"Franz! Franz!"
Franz was Mr. Kleesman's servant. He tended the fires, and poundedup the stones fine in an iron mortar, and did all Mr. Kleesman'serrands.
Franz came running; and Mr. Kleesman gave him the stone, and saidsomething to him in German. Franz took the stone, and disappeared inthe back room.
"After he haf make it fine," said Mr. Kleesman, "I shall assay itfor you." Then, turning to Nelly and Rob, he said:--
"Can you stay? I make three assay now in three cups."
"Yes, indeed, we can!" said Nelly: "thank you! That is what we camefor. We thought the furnace must be mended by this time."
While Franz was pounding the stone, the old man told Mr. Kleesmanabout his mine. Nelly listened with attentive ears to all he said:but Rob was busy studying the pretty little brass scales in theglass box. The man said that he and two other men had been at workfor some months at this mine. The othe
r two men were sure the orewas good; one of them had tried it with the blow-pipe, he said, andgot plenty of silver.
"But I just made up my mind," said the man, "that, before I put anymore money in there, I'd come to somebody that knew. I ain't such asodhead as to think I can tell so well about things as a man that'sstudied 'em all his life; and I asked all about, and they all said,'Kleesman's the man: he'd give you an honest assay of his own mindif he could get at it and weigh it.'"
Mr. Kleesman laughed heartily. He was much pleased at thiscompliment to his honesty.
"Yes, I tell you all true," he said. "If it be bad, or if it begood, I tell true."
"That's what I want," said the man.
Then Franz came in with the fine-powdered stone in a paper. Mr.Kleesman took some of it and weighed it in the little brass scales.Then he took some fine-powdered lead and weighed that. Then he mixedthe fine lead and the powdered stone together with a knife.
"I take twelve times as much lead as there iss of the stone," hesaid.
"What is the lead for?" asked Nelly.
"The lead he will draw out of the stone all that are bad: you willsee."
Then he put the powdered stone and the lead he had mixed togetherinto a little clay cup, and covered it over with more of thefine-powdered lead. Then he put in a little borax.
"He helps it to melt," he said.
Then he went through into the back room, carrying this cup and twoothers which were standing on the table already filled with powderready to be baked.
Rob and Nelly and the old man followed him. He opened the door ofthe little oven and looked in: it was glowing red hot. Then he tookup each cup in tongs, and set it in the oven. When all three werein, he took some burning coals from the fire above, and put them inthe mouth of the oven, in front of the cups.
"Dat iss dat cold air from door do not touch dem," he said. Then heshut the door tight, and said:--
"Now ve go back. Ve vait fifteen minute."
He held his watch in his hand, so as not to make a mistake. When thefifteen minutes were over he opened the oven-door to let a currentof cool air blow above the little cups. Nelly stood on a box, as shehad before, and looked in through the queer board with holes in itfor the eyes. The metal in the little cups was bubbling and as redas fire. Rob tried to look, but the heat hurt his eyes so he couldnot bear it.
"Ven de cold air strike the cups," said Mr. Kleesman, "then the slagare formed."
"Oh, what is slag?" cried Rob.
"All that are bad go into the slag," said Mr. Kleesman.
Then he put on a pair of thick gloves, and a hat on his head, andwent close up to the fiery oven door, and took out the cups, andemptied them into little hollow places in a sheet of zinc. Theinstant the hot metal touched the cool zinc, it spread out into afiery red rose.
"Oh, how lovely!" cried Nelly.
"By jingo!" said Rob.
Even while they were speaking, the bright red rose turneddark,--hardened,--and there lay three shining buttons, flat andround. Their rims looked like dark glass; and in their centres was abright, silvery spot.
Mr. Kleesman took a hammer and pounded off all this dark, shiningrim. Then he pounded the little silvery buttons which were left intothe right shape to fit into some tiny little clay cups he had there.They were shaped like a flower-pot, but only about an inch high.
"Now these must bake one-half hour again," he said; and put theminto the oven. Pretty soon he opened the oven-door to let the coldair in again, as he had done before. That would make all the lead gooff, he said: it would melt into the little cups, and leave nothingbut the pure silver behind.
"Now vatch! vatch!" he said to Nelly. "In von minute you shall see aflash in de cups, like lightning, just one second: it are de last ofde lead driven avay; den all is done."
Nelly watched with all her might. Sure enough, flash! flash! flash!in all three of the cups it went; the cups were fiery red; as Mr.Kleesman took them out, they turned yellow; they looked like theyolk of a hard-boiled egg hollowed out,--and there, in the bottom ofeach, lay a tiny, tiny silver button! Mr. Kleesman carried them intothe front room and weighed them. Two of them were heavy enough tomore than weigh down the little button which was always kept in theleft-hand scale. That showed that the ore had silver enough in it tomake it worth while to work it. The third one was so small you couldhardly see it. That was the one which belonged to the old man.
"You ore are not worth not'ing," said Mr. Kleesman to him. Nellylooked sorrowfully at the old man's face; but he only smiled, andsaid:--
"Well, that's just what I've suspicioned all along. I didn't believemuch in all that blow-pipe work. I'm out about a hundreddollars,--that's all,--not counting my time any thing. It's thetime I grudge more'n the money. Much obliged to ye, sir." And thephilosophical old fellow handed out his three dollars to pay for theassay, and walked off as composedly as if he had had good newsinstead of bad.
Nelly looked very grave. She was thinking of what her father hadsaid about Mr. Scholfield's blow-pipe.
"Perhaps Mr. Scholfield was all wrong too, just like this other man.Perhaps our mine isn't good for any thing."
Nelly's face was so long that kind-hearted Mr. Kleesman noticed it,and said:--
"You haf tired: it are too long that you look at too many t'ings.You shall sit here and be quiet."
"Oh, no, thank you," said Nelly: "I am not tired. I was onlythinking."
Mr. Kleesman really loved Nelly, and it distressed him to see herlook troubled. He wanted to know what troubled her; but he did notlike to ask. He looked at her very sympathizingly, and did not sayany thing.
"Is not a blow-pipe good for any thing to tell about silver?" saidNelly, presently.
"Oh, ho!" thought Mr. Kleesman to himself: "now I know what thelittle wise maiden is thinking: it is her father's mine. It did notescape her one word which this man said."
But he replied to her question as if he had not thought any thingfarther.
"Not very much: the blow-pipe cannot tell true. It tell part true;not all true."
Nelly sighed, and said:--
"Come, Rob: it is time for us to go. We are very much obliged to youfor letting us see the assay. It is the most wonderful thing I eversaw. It is just like a fairy story. Come, Rob."
Rob also thanked Mr. Kleesman; and they went slowly down the steps.
"Stay! stay!" said Mr. Kleesman. "Little one, vill you not ask yourfather that he send me some of the ore from the Goot Luck mine? Ishall assay it for you, and I vill tell you true how much silverthere should come from each ton, that you are not cheated at themill vere dey take your ore to make in de silver brick."
Nelly ran back to Mr. Kleesman, and took his hand in hers.
"Oh, thank you! thank you!" she said: "that was what I was thinkingabout. I was thinking what if our mine should turn out like thatman's that was here this morning."
"Oh, no: I t'ink not. Every von say it iss goot, very goot," saidMr. Kleesman. "But I like to make assay. You tell your father I makeit for nothing: I make it for you."
"I will tell him," said Nelly; "and I am sure he will be very gladto have you do it. I will bring some of the ore next time. Good-by!"And she and Rob ran off very fast, for it was past Ulrica'sdinner-time.
When they reached the house it was shut up: the curtains down, andthe door locked. Ulrica had gone away for the day, to do washing atsomebody's house; and Jan had taken his dinner to the mill. Thechildren sat on the doorstep and ate their lunch, much disappointed.Then they tried to think of some way to let Ulrica know they hadbeen there.
"If we only had a card such as ladies used to leave for mamma whenshe was away," said Rob, "that would be nice."
"I'll tell you," said Nelly: "we'll prick our names on two of thecottonwood leaves in the top of your hat: they'll do for cards."
Rob always put a few green leaves in the top of his hat, to make hishead cool. It keeps out the heat of the sun wonderfully. One varietyof the cottonwood leaf is a smooth, shining leaf, about as large as
a lilac leaf, and much like it in shape. This was the kind Rob hadin his hat. Nelly picked out the two biggest ones, and then with apin she slowly pricked "Nelly" on one and "Rob" on the other.
"There!" she said, when they were done: "aren't those nice cards?Now I'll pin them on the door, close above the handle, so thatUlrica can't open the door without seeing them."
"What fun!" said Rob. "I say, Nell, you're a capital hand to thinkof things."
Nelly laughed.
"Why, Rob," she said, "sometimes you find fault with me just becauseI do 'think of things,' as you call it."
"Oh, those are different things," said Rob. "You know what I mean:bothers. Such things as these cards are fun."
When Ulrica came home at night from her washing, she was very tired;and she put her hand on the handle of her door and turned it almostwithout looking, and did not at first see the green leaves. But, asthe door swung in, she saw them.
"Ah, den! vat is dat?" she exclaimed. "Dem boys at deir mischiefsagain!" And she was about to tear the leaves down angrily, when shecaught sight of the fine-pricked letters. She looked closer, andmade out the word "Nelly;" then on the other one "Rob."
"Ach! mine child! mine child!" she exclaimed. "She haf been here:she make that the green leaf say her name to me. Mine blessedchild!" And Ulrica took the leaves and laid them away in a littleyellow carved box, in the shape of a tub, which she had brought fromSweden. When Jan sat down at his supper, she took them out, andlaid them by his plate, and told him where she found them. Jan wasmuch pleased, and looked a long time curiously at the prickedletters. Then he laid the leaves back in the box, and said toUlrica:--
"Why do you not make for the child a gown, such as the Swede childwears, of the blue and the red? Think you not it would please her?"
"Not to wear," said Ulrica. "She would not like that every oneshould gaze."
"Oh, no, not to wear for people to see," said Jan; "but to keepbecause it is strange and different from the dress of this country.The rich people that did come travelling to Sweden did all buyclothes like the Swede clothes, to take home to keep and to show."
"Yes! yes! I will!" exclaimed Ulrica, much delighted at the thought;"but it shall have no buttons: we cannot find buttons."
"Wilhelm Sachs will make them for me out of tin: that will do verywell, just for a show," said Jan. "It is not for money; but onlythat they shine and be round."
So after supper Ulrica took the roll of blue cloth out of the chest,and began to measure off the breadths.
"How tell you that it is right?" said Jan.
"By my heart," said the loving Ulrica: "I know mine child her sizeby my heart. It vill be right."
But for all that it turned out that she cut the breadths too long,and had to hem a deep hem at the bottom; which wasted some of thecloth, and vexed Ulrica's economical soul. But we have not come tothat yet. We must go home with Nelly and Rob.
Nelly had made up her mind not to tell her father any thing aboutMr. Kleesman's proposal to make the assay until she could see himall alone; but she forgot to tell Rob not to speak of it; and theyhad hardly taken their seats at the tea-table when Rob exclaimed:--
"Papa! don't you think Mr. Kleesman says a blow-pipe isn't good forany thing to tell about silver with. And there was a man thereto-day, with ore out of his mine, and it hadn't any silver at all init,--not any to speak of,--and he thought it was splendid: he andtwo other men; they had tried it with a blow-pipe."
Mr. Scholfield was taking tea with the Marches this night. Helistened with a smile to all Rob said. Then he said:--
"That's just like Kleesman. He thinks nobody but he can tell anything. It's the money he's after. I see through him. Now I know Ican make as good an assay with my blow-pipe as he can with all hislittle cups and saucers and gimcracks, any day."
Nelly grew very red. She did not like to hear Mr. Kleesman so spokenof. She opened her mouth to speak: then bit her lips, and remainedquiet.
"What is it, Nelly?" said her father.
"Nothing, sir," replied Nelly: "only I don't think Mr. Kleesman islike that. He is very kind."
"Oh, yes, he's kind enough," said Mr. Scholfield: "he's agood-natured fellow. But it's all moonshine about his being the onlyone who can make assays. There's a plenty of mines working hereto-day that haven't ever had any assay made except by the blow-pipe.There's no use in paying a fellow three or four or five dollars fordoing what you can do yourself."
"But that man said--" began Rob.
"Be quiet now, Rob," said Mr. March. "We won't talk any more aboutit now."
After Mr. Scholfield had gone away, Mr. March called Nelly out ofthe room.
"Come walk up and down in the lane with me, Nell," he said, "andtell me all about what happened at Mr. Kleesman's."
Then Nelly told her father all about it, from beginning to end.
"Upon my word, Nell," he said, "you seem to have studied the thingcarefully. I should think you could almost make an assay yourself."
"I guess I could if I had the cups and things," said Nelly: "Irecollect every thing he did. But, papa, won't you let him take someore from our mine, and let him see if it is good by his way? Hewon't ask us any thing: he said he was doing it every day, and hecould put in one more cup as well as not. Oh, do, papa!"
"I'll think about it," said Mr. March.
That night he talked it over with Mrs. March, and she was as anxiousas Nelly that he should let Mr. Kleesman make the assay. Thisdecided Mr. March; and the next morning he said to Nelly:--
"Well, Nelly, you shall have your way,--you and mamma. I will takesome of the ore to your old friend. I shall go up with you to-morrowmyself, and carry it. I do not like to send it by you."
"Oh, good! good!" cried Nelly, and jumped up and down, and ran awayto find Rob and tell him that their father would walk into town withthem the next day.
When Nelly walked into Mr. Kleesman's room, holding her father bythe hand, she felt very proud. She had always thought her fatherhandsomer and nicer to look at than any other man in the world; and,when she said to Mr. Kleesman, "Here is my father, sir," this pridewas so evident in her face that it made Mr. Kleesman laugh. It didnot make him love Nelly any less, however. It only made him thinksadly of the little girl way off in Germany, who would have just asmuch pride in his face as Nelly did in her father's. Mr. Kleesman'slove for Nelly made him treat Mr. March like an old friend.
"I am glad to see you here," he said. "I haf for your little girlvon great friendship: she iss so goot. I say often to myself, shehaf goot father, goot mother. She iss not like American childs I hafseen."
Mr. March was glad to have Nelly liked; but he did not wish to haveher praised in this open way. So he said, very quickly:--
"Yes, Nelly is a good girl. I have come to talk to you, Mr.Kleesman, about our mine: perhaps you have heard of it,--'The GoodLuck.'"
"Yes: I hear it is goot mine, very goot," replied Mr. Kleesman. "Iask the child to bring me ore. I assay it for you. It vill bepleasure to me."
"That is what I was going to ask you to do," said Mr. March. "Iwould like to know the exact truth about it before I go any farther.Scholfield is pressing me to put in machinery; but I do not like tospend money on it till I am sure."
"Dat iss right," said Mr. Kleesman. "Vait! vait! It is always safeto vait. Haf you brought with you the ore?"
"Yes, I have it here," replied Mr. March, and took a small bag of itfrom his pocket. Mr. Kleesman examined it very carefully. His facedid not look cheerful. He took piece after piece out of the bag,and, after examining them, tossed them on the table with adissatisfied air.
"Is it all as dis?" he said.
"Yes, about like that," replied Mr. March.
Nelly watched Mr. Kleesman's face breathlessly.
"I know he don't think it is good," she whispered to Rob.
"I cannot tell till I make assay," said Mr. Kleesman. "But I t'inkit not so very good. To-morrow I vill know. To-day I cannot do. Isend you vord."
"Oh, no, you need not ta
ke that trouble," said Mr. March. "Thechildren will be in day after to-morrow. They can call."
"No, I send you vord," repeated Mr. Kleesman. "I send you vord. Dereare plenty vays. I send you vord to-morrow night. Alvays men go pastmy door down to valley. I send you vord."
"What do you suppose is the reason he did not want us to call forit?" said Rob, as they walked down street.
"I know," said Nelly.
"What?" said Rob, sulkily. His pride was a little touched at Mr.Kleesman's having so evidently preferred to send the message by someone else rather than by them.
"Because," said Nelly, "he is so kind he doesn't want to tell us toour face the mine isn't good."
"Oh, Nell!" exclaimed Rob, in a tone of distress, "do you think it'sthat?"
"I know it's that," said Nelly, calmly. "It couldn't be any thingelse: you'll see. He doesn't believe that ore's good for any thing.I know by his face he doesn't. I've seen him look so at ore beforenow."
"Oh, Nell!" cried Rob, "what'll we do if it turns out not to be goodfor any thing?"
"Do!" said Nelly; "why, we shall do just what we did before. But I'mawful sorry I ever told papa about the old thing. It's too mean!"
"We haven't spent any money on it: that's one good thing," said Rob.
"Yes," said Nelly; "and it's lucky we happened in at Mr. Kleesman'sjust when we did: there was some good luck in that, if there isn'tany in the mine."
"But I don't see why you're so sure, Nell," cried Rob: "Mr. Kleesmansaid he couldn't tell till he tried it."
"Well, I _am_ sure," said Nelly; "just as sure's any thing. I knowMr. Kleesman thinks it isn't good for any thing; and if he thinks sojust by looking at the stone, won't he think so a great deal morewhen he has burnt all the bad stuff away?"
"Well, anyhow, I shan't give up till he send 'vord,' as he callsit," said Rob. "I guess it'll be good for a little if it isn't formuch. Everybody says Mr. Scholfield knows all about mines."
"You'll see!" was all Nelly replied; and she trudged along with avery grave and set look on her face. Mr. March was to stay in townlater, to see some farmers who were coming in from the country: sothe children had a lonely walk home. They stopped only a moment atUlrica's and at Lucinda's; and both Ulrica and Lucinda saw thatsomething was wrong. But Nelly had cautioned Rob to say nothingabout the ore, and she herself said nothing about it; and so the twofaithful hearts that loved them could only wonder what had happenedto cloud the usually bright little faces.
When it drew near to sunset, the time at which the farmers who hadbeen up into Rosita usually returned into the valley, Rob and Nellywent down the lane to the gate, to watch for the messenger from Mr.Kleesman. The sun set, and the twilight deepened into dusk, and nomessenger came. Several farm wagons passed; and, as each oneapproached, the children's hearts began to beat quicker, thinkingthat the wagon would stop, and the man would hand out a letter; butwagon after wagon passed,--and no letter. At last Nelly said:--
"It is so dark we really must go in, Rob. I don't believe it'scoming to-night."
"Perhaps his furnace is broken again, and he couldn't do it to-day,"said Rob.
"Perhaps so," said Nelly, drearily. "Oh, dear! I wish the old minewas in Guinea. Weren't we happier without it, Rob?"
"Yes, lots!" said Rob; "and we're making a good lot of money off thebutter and eggs and trout. I don't care about the old mine."
"I do!" said Nelly: "if it was a good mine--if it were a good mine,I mean, because then we could all have every thing we want, and papawouldn't have to work. But I know this mine isn't a good one, and Iain't ever going to look for another 's long as I live. Nor I won'ttell of one, if I find it, either!"
"Pshaw, Nell! don't be a goose," said Rob. "If this one isn't goodfor any thing, it don't prove that the next one won't be. I'll findall I can, and try 'em one after the other."
"Well, you may: I won't!" said Nelly.
Bedtime came: still no letter. All through the evening, the childrenwere listening so closely for the sound of wheels, that they couldnot attend to any thing else. Even Mr. March found it rather hard tokeep his thoughts from wandering down the lane in expectation of themessage from Rosita. But it did not come; and the whole familyfinally went to bed with their suspense unrelieved.
The next morning, while they were sitting at breakfast, and notthinking about the message at all, a man knocked at the door andhanded in a letter. He had brought it from Rosita the night before,but had forgotten all about it, he said, till he was a mile past thehouse; and he thought as he would be going in again early in themorning, it would do as well to bring it then.
"Oh, certainly, certainly!" said Mr. March: "it was not on anypressing business. Much obliged to you, sir. Sit down and have somebreakfast with us: won't you?"
The man was an old bachelor,--a Mr. Bangs,--who lived alone on afarm some six miles north of Mr. March's. He looked longingly at thenice breakfast, and said to Mrs. March:--
"Well, I had what I called a breakfast before I left home; but yourcoffee does smell so tempting, I think I'll take a cup,--sinceyou're so kind."
Then he drew up a chair and sat down, and began to eat and drink asif he had just come starved from a shipwreck.
Mr. March laid the letter down by his plate, and went on talkingwith Mr. Bangs as politely as if he had nothing else to do.
Rob and Nelly looked at the letter; then at each other; then attheir father and mother: Rob fidgeted on his chair. Finally, Nellyput down her knife and fork, and said she did not want any morebreakfast. Mrs. March could hardly keep from laughing to see thechildren's impatience, though she felt nearly as impatient herself.At last she said to the children:--
"You may be excused, children. Run out into the barn and see if youcan find any eggs!" Rob and Nelly darted off, only too glad to befree.
"Did you ever see such a pig!" exclaimed Rob. "He'd had hisbreakfast at home. I don't see what made papa ask him!"
"He ate as if he were half starved," said Nelly. "I guess oldbachelors don't cook much that's good. Oh! I do wish he'd hurry."
Mr. Bangs had no idea of hurrying. It was a long time since he hadtasted good home-made bread and butter and coffee, and he knew itwould be a still longer time before he tasted them again. He almostwished he had two stomachs, like a camel, and could fill them both.At last, when he really could eat no more, and Mrs. March had pouredfor him the last drop out of the coffee-pot, he went away. Thechildren were watching in the barn to see him go. As soon as he hadpassed the barn-door, they scampered back to the house.
Their father had the open letter under his hand, on the table. Hewas looking at their mother, and there were tears in her eyes. Heturned to the children, and said, in a voice which he tried hard tomake cheerful:--
"Well, Nelly, are you ready for bad news?"
"Oh, yes!" interrupted Nelly, "indeed I am, all ready. I knew itwould be bad news! I knew it when we were at Mr. Kleesman's."
"Pshaw!" said Rob, and sat down in a chair, and twirled his hat overand over between his knees: "I don't care! I'm going fishing." Andhe jumped up suddenly, and ran out of the room.
Mrs. March laughed in spite of herself.
"That is to hide how badly he feels," she said. "Let's all gofishing."
Nelly did not laugh. She stood still by the table, leaning on it.
"It's all my fault," she said. "If I hadn't found the mine, weshouldn't have had all this trouble."
"Why, child, this isn't trouble," exclaimed her father; "don't feelso. Of course we're all a little disappointed."
"A good deal!" interrupted Mrs. March, smiling.
"Yes, a good deal," he continued; "but we won't be unhappy longabout it. We're no worse off than we were before. And there's onething: we are very lucky to have got out of it so soon,--before wehad put any money into it."
"What does Mr. Kleesman say?" asked Nelly.
"He says that there is a little silver in the ore, but not enough tomake it pay to work the mine," replied her father; "and he says thathe is more sorry
to say this than he has ever been before in hislife to say that ore was not good. I will read you the letter."
Then Mr. March read the whole letter aloud to Nelly. The lastsentence was a droll one. Mr. Kleesman said:--
"I have for your little girl so great love that I do wish she maynever have more sorrow as this."
"What does he mean, papa?" asked Nelly.
"Why, he means that he hopes this disappointment about the mine willbe the most serious sorrow you will ever know: that nothing worsewill ever happen to you," replied Mr. March.
"Oh," said Nelly, "is that it? I couldn't make it mean any thing.Well, I hope so too."
"So do I," said Mrs. March.
"And I," said Mr. March. "And if nothing worse ever does happen tous than to think for a few weeks we have found a fortune, and thento find that we haven't, we shall be very lucky people."
So they all tried to comfort each other, and to conceal how muchdisappointed they really were; but all the time, each one of themwas very unhappy, and knew perfectly well that all the rest weretoo. Mr. March was the unhappiest of the four. He had made such fineplans for the future: how he would send Rob and Nelly to school atthe East; build a pretty new house; have a nice, comfortablecarriage; have Billy and Lucinda come back to live with them; buyall the books he wanted. Poor Mr. March! it was a very hard thing tohave so many air-castles tumble down all in one minute!
Mrs. March did not mind it so much, because she had never from thebeginning had very firm faith in the mine. And for Rob and Nelly itwas not nearly so hard, for they had not made any definite plans ofwhat they would like to do; and they were so young that each daybrought them new pleasures in their simple life. Still it was agreat disappointment even to them, and I presume would have madethem seem less cheerful and contented for a long time, if somethinghad not happened the very next day to divert their minds and givethem plenty to think about.