CHAPTER XX. SUNDAY ON THE ROAD.
Aunt Corinne occupied with her mother a huge apartment over thesitting-room, in which was duplicated the fireplace below. At thisseason the fireplace was closed with a black board on which paradedballoon-skirted women cut out of fashion plates.
The chimneys were built in two huge stacks at the gable-ends of thehouse, outside the weather boarding: a plan the architects of thisday utterly condemn. The outside chimney was, however, as far beyondthe stick-and-clay stacks of the cabin, as our fire-stone flues arenow beyond it. This house with log steps no longer stands as an oldlandmark by the 'pike side in Greenfield. But on that June morning itlooked very pleasant, and the locust-trees in front of it made theair heavy with perfume. There is no flower like the locust forfeeding honey to the sense of smell. Half the bees from WilliamSebastian's hives were buzzing overhead, when Bobaday and auntCorinne sat down by Zene on the log steps to unload their troubles.All three were in their Sunday clothes. Zene had even greased hisboots, and looked with satisfaction on the moist surfaces which hestretched forth to dry in the sun.
He had not seen Carrie borne away, but he had been to the showafterwards, and heard her sing one of her songs. He told the childrenshe acted like she never see a thing before her, and would go deadasleep if they didn't stick pins in her like they did in a woman heseen walkin' for money once. Robert was fain to wander aside on thesubject of this walking woman, but aunt Corinne kept to Fairy Carrie,and made Zene tell every scrap of information he had about her.
"After I rubbed the horses this mornin'," he proceeded, "I took astroll around the burg, and their tent and wagon's gone!"
"Gone!" exclaimed aunt Corinne. "Clear out of town?"
Zene said he allowed so. He could show the children where the tentand wagon stood, and it was bare ground now. He had also discoveredthe time-honored circus-ring, where every summer the tinseled hostrode and tumbled. But under the circumstances, a circus-ring had nocharms.
"Then they've got her," said Bobaday. "We'll never see the prettylittle thing again. If I'd been a man I wouldn't let that woman haveher, like Grandma Padgett did. Grown folks are so funny. I did wishsome grand people would come in the night and say she was theirchild, and make the show give her up."
Aunt Corinne arose to fly to her mother and Mrs. Sebastian with thenews. But the central door opening on the instant and Mrs. Sebastian,her husband and guest coming out, aunt Corinne had not far to fly.
"The woman is a stealer," she added to her breathless recital. "Shedidn't even send my things back."
"She's welcome to them," said Grandma Padgett, shaking her head,"but I feel for that child, whether the rightful owners has her ornot."
"This is Lord's Day," said William Sebastian to the children, "alongthe whole length of the pike, and across the whole breadth of thecountry. Thy little friend will get her First Day blessing."
He wore a gray hat, half-high in the crown, and a gray coat whichflapped his calves when he walked. His trousers were of a cut whichreached nearly to his armpits, but this fact was kept from the publicby a vest crawling well toward his knees. Yet he looked beautifullytidy and well-dressed. His wife, who was not a Quaker, had by nomeans such an air of simple grandeur.
Grandma Padgett and aunt Corinne, somewhat reluctantly followed byZene, were going to the Methodist church. Already its bell wasfilling the air. But Robert hung back and asked if he might not go toQuaker meeting.
"Thee couldn't sit and meditate," said William Sebastian.
Bobaday assured William Sebastian he could sit very still, and healways meditated. When he ran after his grandmother to get herconsent, it occurred to him to find out from Zene how the pig-headedman was, and if he looked as ugly as ever. But aunt Corinne scornedthe question, and quite flew af him for asking it.
The Methodist services Robert knew by heart: the open windows, thehigh pulpit where the preacher silently knelt first thing, hymn booksrustling cheerfully, the hymn given out two lines at a time to besung by the congregation, then the kneeling of everybody and theprayer, more singing, and the sermon, perhaps followed by anexhortation, when the preacher talked loud enough for the boyssitting out on the fence to hear every word. Perhaps a few childrenwhispered, or a baby cried and its mother took it out. Everybodyseemed happy and astir. After church there was so much handshakingthat the house emptied very slowly.
But on his return he described the Quaker meeting to aunt Corinne.
"They all sat and sat," said Bobaday. "It was a little bit of ahouse and not half so many folks could get in it as sit in thecorners by the pulpit in Methodist meeting. And they sat and sat, andnobody said a word or gave out a hymn. The women looked at the cracksin the floor. You could hear everything outdoors. After a long timethey all got up and shook hands. Mrs. Sebastian said to Mr. Sebastianwhen we came away, 'The spirit didn't appear to move anybody thismorning.' And he said, 'No: but it was a blessed meeting.'"
"Didn't your legs cramp?" inquired aunt Corinne.
"Yes; and my nose tickled and I wanted to sneeze."
"But you dursn't move your thumb even. That lawyer that ate supperhere last night would like such a meeting, wouldn't he?"
The lawyer was coming up the log steps while Robert spoke of him.And with him was a lady who looked agitated, and whom he had to assist.
Robert and Corinne, at the open sitting-room window, looked at eachother with quick apprehension.
"Aunt Krin, _that's_ her mother," said aunt Krin's nephew. Hisyoung relative grasped his arm and exclaimed in an awe-struck whisper:
"Bobaday Padgett!"