CHAPTER XIX. POOR ADAM!
When Una got home Faith was lying face downwards on her bed, utterlyrefusing to be comforted. Aunt Martha had killed Adam. He was reposingon a platter in the pantry that very minute, trussed and dressed,encircled by his liver and heart and gizzard. Aunt Martha heeded Faith'spassion of grief and anger not a whit.
"We had to have something for the strange minister's dinner," she said."You're too big a girl to make such a fuss over an old rooster. You knewhe'd have to be killed sometime."
"I'll tell father when he comes home what you've done," sobbed Faith.
"Don't you go bothering your poor father. He has troubles enough. AndI'M housekeeper here."
"Adam was MINE--Mrs. Johnson gave him to me. You had no business totouch him," stormed Faith.
"Don't you get sassy now. The rooster's killed and there's an end of it.I ain't going to set no strange minister down to a dinner of cold b'iledmutton. I was brought up to know better than that, if I have come downin the world."
Faith would not go down to supper that night and she would not go tochurch the next morning. But at dinner time she went to the table, hereyes swollen with crying, her face sullen.
The Rev. James Perry was a sleek, rubicund man, with a bristlingwhite moustache, bushy white eyebrows, and a shining bald head. Hewas certainly not handsome and he was a very tiresome, pompous sort ofperson. But if he had looked like the Archangel Michael and talked withthe tongues of men and angels Faith would still have utterly detestedhim. He carved Adam up dexterously, showing off his plump white handsand very handsome diamond ring. Also, he made jovial remarks all throughthe performance. Jerry and Carl giggled, and even Una smiled wanly,because she thought politeness demanded it. But Faith only scowleddarkly. The Rev. James thought her manners shockingly bad. Once, whenhe was delivering himself of an unctuous remark to Jerry, Faith broke inrudely with a flat contradiction. The Rev. James drew his bushy eyebrowstogether at her.
"Little girls should not interrupt," he said, "and they should notcontradict people who know far more than they do."
This put Faith in a worse temper than ever. To be called "little girl"as if she were no bigger than chubby Rilla Blythe over at Ingleside!It was insufferable. And how that abominable Mr. Perry did eat! He evenpicked poor Adam's bones. Neither Faith nor Una would touch a mouthful,and looked upon the boys as little better than cannibals. Faith feltthat if that awful repast did not soon come to an end she would wind itup by throwing something at Mr. Perry's gleaming head. Fortunately,Mr. Perry found Aunt Martha's leathery apple pie too much even for hispowers of mastication and the meal came to an end, after a long grace inwhich Mr. Perry offered up devout thanks for the food which a kindand beneficent Providence had provided for sustenance and temperatepleasure.
"God hadn't a single thing to do with providing Adam for you," mutteredFaith rebelliously under her breath.
The boys gladly made their escape to outdoors, Una went to help AuntMartha with the dishes--though that rather grumpy old dame neverwelcomed her timid assistance--and Faith betook herself to the studywhere a cheerful wood fire was burning in the grate. She thought shewould thereby escape from the hated Mr. Perry, who had announced hisintention of taking a nap in his room during the afternoon. But scarcelyhad Faith settled herself in a corner, with a book, when he walked inand, standing before the fire, proceeded to survey the disorderly studywith an air of disapproval.
"You father's books seem to be in somewhat deplorable confusion, mylittle girl," he said severely.
Faith darkled in her corner and said not a word. She would NOT talk tothis--this creature.
"You should try to put them in order," Mr. Perry went on, playing withhis handsome watch chain and smiling patronizingly on Faith. "You arequite old enough to attend to such duties. MY little daughter at homeis only ten and she is already an excellent little housekeeper and thegreatest help and comfort to her mother. She is a very sweet child. Iwish you had the privilege of her acquaintance. She could help you inmany ways. Of course, you have not had the inestimable privilege of agood mother's care and training. A sad lack--a very sad lack. I havespoken more than once to your father in this connection and pointed outhis duty to him faithfully, but so far with no effect. I trust he mayawaken to a realization of his responsibility before it is too late. Inthe meantime, it is your duty and privilege to endeavour to take yoursainted mother's place. You might exercise a great influence over yourbrothers and your little sister--you might be a true mother to them. Ifear that you do not think of these things as you should. My dear child,allow me to open your eyes in regard to them."
Mr. Perry's oily, complacent voice trickled on. He was in his element.Nothing suited him better than to lay down the law, patronize andexhort. He had no idea of stopping, and he did not stop. He stood beforethe fire, his feet planted firmly on the rug, and poured out a flood ofpompous platitudes. Faith heard not a word. She was really not listeningto him at all. But she was watching his long black coat-tails withimpish delight growing in her brown eyes. Mr. Perry was standing VERYnear the fire. His coat-tails began to scorch--his coat-tails beganto smoke. He still prosed on, wrapped up in his own eloquence. Thecoat-tails smoked worse. A tiny spark flew up from the burning wood andalighted in the middle of one. It clung and caught and spread into asmouldering flame. Faith could restrain herself no longer and broke intoa stifled giggle.
Mr. Perry stopped short, angered over this impertinence. Suddenlyhe became conscious that a reek of burning cloth filled the room.He whirled round and saw nothing. Then he clapped his hands to hiscoat-tails and brought them around in front of him. There was alreadyquite a hole in one of them--and this was his new suit. Faith shook withhelpless laughter over his pose and expression.
"Did you see my coat-tails burning?" he demanded angrily.
"Yes, sir," said Faith demurely.
"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded, glaring at her.
"You said it wasn't good manners to interrupt, sir," said Faith, moredemurely still.
"If--if I was your father, I would give you a spanking that you wouldremember all your life, Miss," said a very angry reverend gentleman, ashe stalked out of the study. The coat of Mr. Meredith's second best suitwould not fit Mr. Perry, so he had to go to the evening service withhis singed coat-tail. But he did not walk up the aisle with his usualconsciousness of the honour he was conferring on the building. He neverwould agree to an exchange of pulpits with Mr. Meredith again, and hewas barely civil to the latter when they met for a few minutes at thestation the next morning. But Faith felt a certain gloomy satisfaction.Adam was partially avenged.