CHAPTER XV. THE SPROUTING.
"Why, Bobaday Padgett," exclaimed aunt Corinne, "if there isn't ourwagon--and Ma Padgett."
Both children came running to the carriage steps, and their guardiangot down, trembling. She put her arms around them, and after a silenthug, shook one in each hand.
The fire illuminated wagon and carriage, J. D. Matthew's cart, andthe logs and bushes surrounding them. It flickered on the bluespectacles and gave Grandma Padgett a piercing expression while sheexamined her culprits.
"Where have you been, while Zene and I hunted up and down in suchdistress?"
"We's going right back to the tavern soon's he could get us there,"Robert hastened to explain. "It's that funny fellow, J. D., Grandma.But he thought we better go roundabout, so they wouldn't catch us."
Zene, limping down from his wagon, listened to this lucid statement.
"O Zene," exclaimed aunt Corinne, "I'm so glad you and Ma Padgetthave come! But we knew you wouldn't go on to Brother Tip's withoutus. Bobaday said you'd wait till we got back, and we ran rightstraight out of town."
"You ought to be well sprouted, both of you," said Grandma Padgett,still trembling as she advanced toward the fire. "Robert Day, breakme a switch; break me a good one, and peel the leaves off. So youcame across this man again, and he persuaded you to run away withhim, did he?"
J. D. Matthews, who had stood up smiling his widest, now movedaround to the other side of his cart and crouched in alarm.
Grandma Padgett now saw that the cart was standing level and open,and within it there appeared a nest of brown curls and one slim,babyish hand.
"What's that?" she inquired.
"Why, don't you see, Grandma?" exclaimed Robert, "that's FairyCarrie that we ran away with. They made her sing at the show. We justwent in a minute to see the pig-headed man. I had my gold dollar. Andshe felt so awful. And we saw her behind the tent."
"She cried, Ma Padgett," burst in aunt Corinne, "like her heart wasbroke, and she couldn't talk at all. Then they were coming out tomake her go in again, and we said didn't she want to go to you? Youwouldn't let her live with a pig-headed man and have to sing. And shewanted to go, so they came out. And we took hold of her hands andran. And they chased us. And we couldn't go to the tavern 'cause theychased us the other way: it got dark, and when Bobaday hid us under ahouse, they chased past us, and we waited, oh! the longest time."
"And then," continued Robert, "when we came out, we didn't knowwhich way to go to the tavern, but started roundabout, through fieldsand over fences, and all, so the show people wouldn't see us. AuntCorinne was scared. And we stumbled over cows, and dogs barked at us.But we went on till after 'while just as we's slippin' up a backstreet we met J. D. and the cart, and he was so good! He put the poorlittle girl in the cart and pushed her. She was so weak she fell downevery little bit when we's runnin'. Aunt Corinne and me had to nearlycarry her."
"Well, why didn't he bring you back to the tavern?"
"Grandma, if he had, the show people would been sure to get her! Wethought they'd travel on this morning. And we were so tired! He tookus to a cabin house, and the woman was real good. The man was realgood, too. They had lots of dogs. We got our breakfast and stayed allnight. They knew we'd strayed off, but they said J. D. would get usback safe. I gave them the rest of my dollar. Then this morning weall started to town, but J. D. had to go away down the road first,for some eggs and things. And it took us so long we only got this farwhen it came dusk."
"J. D. took good care of us," said aunt Corinne. "Everybody knowshim, and he is so funny. The folks say he travels along the pike allthrough Indiana and Ohio."
"Well, I'm obliged to him," said Grandma Padgett, still severely;"we owe him, too, for a good supper and breakfast he gave us theother time we saw him. But I can't make out how he can foot it fasterthan we can ride, and so git into this State ahead of us."
Mr. Matthews now came forward, and straightening his bear-likefigure, proceeded to smile without apprehension. He cleared his voiceand chanted:
Sometimes I take the wings of steam, And on the cars my cart I wheel. And so I came to Richmond town Two days ago in fair renown.
"Oh," said Grandma Padgett.
"What's that he's givin' out, marm?" inquired Zene.
"It's a way he has," she explained. "He talks in verses. This is thepedler that stayed over in that old house with us, near by the Dutchlandlord and the deep creek. Were you going to camp here all night?"she inquired of J. D.
"We wanted him to," coaxed aunt Corinne, "my feet ached so bad. Thenwe could walk right into town in the morning, and he'd hide FairyCarrie in his cart till we got to the tavern."
"Zene," said Grandma Padgett, "you might as well take out the horsesand feed them. They haven't had much chance to-day."
"Will we stay here, marm?"
"I'll see," said Grandma Padgett. "Anyhow, I can't stand it in thecarriage again right away."
"Let's camp here," urged Robert. "J. D.'s got chicken all dressed tobroil on the coals, and lots of good things to eat."
"He wouldn't have any money the last time, and I can't have suchdoings again. I'm hungry, for I haven't enjoyed a meal sinceyesterday. Mister, see here," said Grandma Padgett, approaching thecart.
J. D. moved backwards as she came as if pushed by an invisible polecarried in the brisk grandmother's hands.
"Stand still, do," she urged, laying a bank bill on his cart. She,snapped her steel purse shut again, put it in her dress pocket, andindicated the bill with one finger. "I don't lay this here for yourkindness to the children, you understand. You've got feelings, andknow I'm more than obliged. But here are a lot of us, and you buyyour provisions, so if you'll let us pay you for some, we'll eat andbe thankful. Take the money and put it away."
Thus commanded, J. D. returned cautiously to the other side of thecart, took the money and thrust it into his vest pocket withoutlooking at it. He then smiled again at Grandma Padgett, as if thethought of propitiating her was uppermost in his mind.
"Now go on with your chicken-broiling," she concluded, and he wenton with it, keeping at a distance from her while she stood by thecart or when she sat down on a log by the fire.
"Here's your stick, Grandma," said Robert Day, offering her a limbof paw paw, stripped of all its leaves.
Grandma Padgett took it in her hands, reduced its length and triedits limberness.
"If I had given my family such trouble when I's your age," she saidto Corinne and Robert, "I should have been sprouted as I deserved."
They listened respectfully.
"Folks didn't allow their children to run wild then. They whippedthem and kept them in bounds. I remember once father whipped brotherThomas for telling a falsehood, and made welts on his body."
Corinne and Robert had heard this tale before, but theircountenances, put on a piteous expression.
"You ought to have a sprouting," concluded their guardian as if shedid not know how to compromise with her conscience, "but since youmeant to do a good turn instead of a bad one"--
"Oh, we never intended to run away, Grandma, and worry you so,"insisted Robert.
"We's just sorry for the little girl," murmured aunt Corinne.--"Why,I'll let it pass this time. Only never let me know you to do such athing again." The paw paw sprout fell to the ground, unwarped by use.Corinne and Robert were hearty in promising never to run away withFairy Carrie or any other party again.
This serious business completed, the grandmother turned herattention to the child in the cart.
"How sound asleep the little thing is," she observed, smoothingFairy Carrie's cheek from dark eye-circle to chin, "and her flesh socold!"
"She's just slept that way ever since J. D. put her in his cart!"exclaimed aunt Corinne. "We made her open her eyes and take somebreakfast in her mouth, but she went to sleep again while she'seatin'."
"And we let her sleep ever since," added Bobaday. "It didn't make abit of difference whether the cart went jolt-erty-jolt over stones orrun smooth
in the dust. And we shaded her face with bushes."
"She's not well," said their experienced elder. "The poor littlething may have some catching disease! It's a pretty face. I wonderwhose child she is? You oughtn't to set up your judgment and carry alittle child off with you from her friends. I hardly know what we'lldo about it."
"Oh, but they wern't her friends, Ma Padgett," asserted aunt Corinnesolemnly. "She isn't the pig-headed man's little girl. Nor any ofthem ain't her folks. Bobaday thinks they stole her away."
"If she'd only wake up and talk," said Robert, "maybe she could tellus where she lives. But she was afraid of the show people."
"I should think that was likely," said Grandma Padgett.
In the heat of his sympathy, he confided to his grandmother what hehad seen of the darkened wagon the night they met the Virginians atthe large camp.
The paw paw stick had been laid upon the fire. It blackenedfrowningly. But Robert and Corinne had known many an apple sprout topreach them such a discourse as it had done, without enforcing thesubject matter more heavily.
Grandma Padgett reported that she had searched for her missingfamily in the show tent, though she could not see why any sensibleboy or girl would want to enter such a place. And it was clear to herthe child might be afraid of such creatures, and very probable thatshe did not belong to them by ties of blood. But they might prove herlawful guardians and cause a small moving party a great deal oftrouble. "But we won't let them find her again," said aunt Corinne."Ma, mayn't I keep her for my little sister?--and Bobaday would liketo have another aunt."
"Then we'd be stealing her," said Grandma Padgett. "If she's a lostchild she ought to be restored to her people, and travelling alongthe 'pike we can't keep the showmen from finding her."
Bobaday and Corinne gazed pensively at the stump fire, wondering howgrown folks always saw the difficulties in doing what you want to do.