CHAPTER XXVI. THE FAIR AND THE FIERCE BANDIT.
At Terra Haute, where they halted for the night, Robert Day was madeto feel the only sting which the caravan mode of removal ever causedhim.
The tavern shone resplendent with lights. When Grandma Padgett'sparty went by the double doors of the dining-room, to ascend thestairs, they glanced into what appeared a bower or a bazaar ofwonderful sights. They had supper in a temporary eating-room, and thewaiter said there was a fair in the house. Not an agriculturaldisplay, but something got up by a ladies' sewing-society to raisemoney for poor people.
Now Robert Day and Corinne knew all about an agricultural display.They had been to the State Fair at Columbus, and seen cattle standingin long lines of booths, quilts, and plows, and chickens, pies,bread, and fancy knitting, horses, cake stands, and crowds of people.They considered it the finest sight in the world, except, perhaps, afabulous crystal palace which was or had been somewhere a great waysoff, and which everybody talked about a great deal, and some folkshad pictured on their window blinds. But a fair got up by a ladies'sewing-society to raise money for the poor, was so entirely new andtantalizing to them that they begged their guardian to take them in.
Grandma Padgett said she had no money to spare for foolishness, andher expenses during the trip footed up to a high figure. Neithercould she undertake to have the trunks in from the wagon and get outtheir Sunday clothes. But in the end, as both children were neatlydressed, and the fair was to help the poor, she gave them a five-centpiece each, over and above admission money, which was a fip'ney-bit,for children, the waiter said. Zene concluded he would black hisboots and look into the fair awhile also, and as he could keep aprotecting eye on her young family, and had authority to send themup-stairs in one hour and a half by the bar-room time, Grandma Padgettwent to bed. She was glad the journey was so nearly over, for everynight found her quite tired out.
Zene, magnifying his own importance and authority, ushered auntCorinne and Robert into the fair, and limped after them whenever hethought they needed admonition or advice. The landlord's pert youngson noticed this and made his intimates laugh at it. Besides, he wasgorgeously attired in blue velvet jacket and ruffles and whitetrousers, and among the crowds of grown people coming and going,other children shone in resplendent attire. Aunt Corinne felt thecommonness of her calico dress. She had a "white" herself, if MaPadgett had only let her put it on, but this could not be explainedto all the people at the fair. And there were so many things to lookat, she soon forgot the white. Dolls of pink and pearly wax, withactual hair, candy or wooden dogs, cats, and all domestic animals,tables of cakes, and lines of made-up clothing which represented thesewing society's labors. There was too much crowding for comfort, andtoo much pastry trodden into the floor; and aunt Corinne and hernephew felt keen anxiety to spend their five-cent pieces to the bestadvantage. She was near investing in candy kisses, when yellow andscarlet-backed books containing the history of "Mother Hubbard," orthe "Babes in the Woods," or "Little Red Riding Hood," attracted hereye, and she realized what life-long regret she must have sufferedfor spending five cents on candy kisses, when one such volume mightbe hers for the same money.
Just as aunt Corinne laid her silver on the book counter, however,and gave her trembling preference to the "History of Old Dame Trotand her Cat," Bobaday seized her wrist and excitedly told her therewas a magic-lantern show connected with the fair, which could be seenat five cents per pair of eyes. Dame Trot remained unpurchased, andthe coin returned to aunt Corinne's warm palm. But she inquired withcaution,
"What's a magic-lantern show?"
"Why, the man, you know," explained Robert, "has pitctures in alantern, and throws light through 'em, and they spread out on a wetsheet on the wall. The room's all dark except the place on the wall.A Chinese man eatin' mice in his sleep: he works his jaws! And aboutSaul in the Bible, when he was goin' to kill the good people, and itsays, 'Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou me?' And when they let himdown in a basket. And there's a big star like grandma's star quilt,only it keeps turning all kinds of colors and working in and out onitself. And a good many more. Zene went in. He said he wanted to seeif we ought to look at it. And he'll stand by the door and pay ourmoney to the man if we want to go. There's such a crowd to get in."
Robert Day's aunt caught the fire of his enthusiasm and wentstraight with him to the door wherein the magic lantern performed. Acrowd of children were pushing up, but Zene, more energetic thancourteous pushed his charges ahead so that they gained chairs beforethe landlord's son could make his choice.
AT THE SEWING SOCIETY FAIR.]
He sat down directly behind Robert and aunt Corinne, and at oncebegan to annoy them with impertinent remarks.
"Movers' young ones are spry," said the landlord's son, who had beenpetted on account of his pretty face until he was the nuisance of thehouse. "I wouldn't be a movers' young one."
Robert felt a stinging throb in his blood, but sat still, looking atthe wall. Aunt Corinne, however, turned her head and lookedwitheringly at the blue-jacketed boy.
"Movers' young ones have to wear calico," he continued, "and theirlame pap goes lippity-clink around after them."
"He thinks Zene's our father!" exclaimed aunt Corinne, blazing atthe affront she received.
"Don't mind him," said Robert, slowly. "He's the hostler's boy, andused to staying in the stable. He doesn't know how to behave whenthey let him into the house."
This bitter skirmishing might have become an open engagement at thenext exchange of fires, for the landlord's son stood up in rage whilehis chums giggled, and Robert felt terribly equal to the occasion. Hetold Zene next day he had his fist already doubled, and he didn'tcare if the landlord put them all in jail. But just then the magiclight was turned upon the wall, the landlord's son was told by twentyvoices to sit down out of the way, the lantern man himself sternlycommanding it. So he sunk into his seat feeling much less important,and the wonders proceeded though Aunt Corinne felt she should alwaysregret turning her back on the Dame Trot book and coming in there tohave Zene called her lame pap, while Robert wondered gloomily if anystigma did attach to movers' children. He had supposed them a classto be envied.
This grievance put the robbers out of his mind when they trottedahead next day. The Wabash River could scarcely soothe his ruffledcomplacence. And never an inch of the Wabash River have I seen thatwas not beautiful and restful to the eye. It flows limpidly betweenvarying banks, and has a trick of throwing up bars and islands,wooded to the very edges--captivating places for any tiny Crusoe tobe wrecked upon. Skiffs lay along the shore, and small steamers felttheir way in the channel. It was a river full of all sorts ofpromises; so shallow here that the pebbles shone in broad sheets likea floor of opals wherever you might wade in delight, so deep andshady with sycamore canopies there, that a good swimmer would want tolie in ambush like a trout, at the bottom of the swimming hole, halfa June day.
Perhaps it was the sight of the Wabash River which suggested washingclothes to Grandma Padgett. She said they were now near the IllinoisState line, and she would not like to reach the place with everythingdirty. There was always plenty to do when a body first got home,without hurrying up wash-day.
So when they passed a small place called Macksville, and came toSugar Creek, she called a halt, and they spent the day in the woods.Sugar Creek, though not sweet, was clear. Zene carried pails full ofit to fill the great copper kettle, and slung this over a fire. Thehorses munched at their feed-box or cropped grass, wandering withtheir heads tied to their forefeet to prevent their cantering off.Grandma Padgett at the creek's brink, set up her tubs and buriedherself to the elbows in suds, and aunt Corinne with a matronlycountenance, assisted. All that day Robert went barelegged, andsplashed water, wading out far to dip up a gourdful; and he thoughtit was fun to help stretch the clothes-line among saplings, and liftthe scalded linen on a paddle into the tub, losing himself in thestream. Ordinary washdays as he remembered them, were rather disagreeable.Everybody had to wake ea
rly, and a great deal of fine-split wood wasneeded. The kitchen smelt of suds, and the school-lunch was scrapsleft from Sunday instead of new cake, turnovers and gingerbread.
GRANDMA PADGETT'S WASHING-DAY IN THE WOODS.]
But this woods wash-day was an experience to delight in, likesailing on a log in the water, and pretending you are a boldnavigator, or lashing the rocking-chair to a sled for a sleighride.It was something out of the common. It was turning labor intofantastic tricks.
They had an excellent supper, too, and after dusk the clothes stoodin glintly array on the line, the camp-fire shone ruddy in a placewhere its smoke could not offend them, and they were really likewhite stones encircling an unusual day.
But when Robert awoke in the night they gave him a pang of fright,and he was sorry his grandma had decided to let them bleach in thedew of the June woods. From his bed in the carriage he could see boththe road and the lines of clothes. A horseman came along the road andhalted. He was not attracted by the camp-fire, because that had diedto ashes. He probably would not have heard the horses stamp in theirsleep, for his own horse's feet made a noise. And the wagon cover washid by foliage. But woods and sight were not dark enough to keep theglint of the washing out of his eyes. Robert saw this rider dismountand heard him walking cautiously into their camp.