CHAPTER VIII
NEIGHBOR
What with Mrs. Pinkney almost in hysterics, Tom Jonah barking, the goatblatting, Aunt Sarah scolding, and the neighbors in a general uproar, itwas scarcely possible for anybody to make himself heard.
Therefore Neale said nothing. He hopped out from behind the steeringwheel of the touring car and ran into the back premises, from which hedragged the tall fruit-picking ladder that Uncle Rufus had stowed away.
"Neale reached up with a rake and unhooked the hangingbasket"]
Fortunately before any excited person turned in a fire alarm, Neale,with the help of Luke Shepard and Uncle Rufus, set up the step-ladderdirectly under the squalling cat and her kittens. From the top step, onwhich he perched precariously with Luke and the old negro steadying theladder, Neale reached up with a rake and unhooked the hanging basketfrom the tramway.
It was rather a delicate piece of work, and the children were scarcelyassured of Sandyface's safety--nor was the old cat sure of itherself--until Neale, hanging the basket on the reversed garden rake,lowered the entire family to the ground.
"Sartain suah am glad to see dat ol' coat ob' mine again," mumbledUncle Rufus, as everybody else was congratulating one another upon thesafety of the cats. "I had a paper dollar tucked away ag'in some timew'en I'd need it, in de inside pocket of dat ol' coat. It moughty neargot clean 'way f'om me, 'cause of dat boy's foolishness. Sartain suah amde baddes' boy I ever seen."
The consensus of opinion seemed to follow the bent of Uncle Rufus' mind.Sammy was in evil repute in the neighborhood in any case; this wasconsidered the capsheaf.
Had it not been that the aerial tramway was so securely affixed to thetwo houses, and to take it down would be to deprive Tess, who wasinnocent, of some amusement, Mrs. Pinkney would have ordered theconnections between the two houses severed at once.
As it was, she drove the shamefaced Sammy into the house ahead of her,and some of his boy acquaintances, lingering with ghoulish curiosityoutside, heard unmistakable sounds of punishment being inflicted uponthe culprit.
He was then sent up to his room to meditate. And just outside hisscreened window was the tantalizing tramway which Neale had repaired andwhich was again in good working order.
Sammy had been forbidden to use the new plaything; but the little CornerHouse girls soon began to feel sorry for him. Even Tess thought that hispunishment was too hard.
"For he didn't really hurt Sandyface and the kittens. Only scared 'em,"she said.
"But s'pose they'd've got dizzy and fell out--like I did out of theswing?" Dot observed, inclined to make the matter more serious even thanher sister. "_Then_ what would have happened?"
Tess nevertheless felt sorry for the culprit, and seeing his woe-begoneand tear-stained face pressed close to his chamber window, she wrote thefollowing on a piece of pasteboard, stood it upright in the basket anddrew it across so that Sammy might read it:
DONT MINE SAmmY WE Ar SORRY THe CATS AR Al RITE DOT & TESS
The "_cat_astrophy" as Neale insisted upon calling the accident, threwsome gloom into an otherwise pleasant day--for the little girls atleast. And that evening something else was discovered that sent Dot tobed in almost as low a state of mind as that with which Sammy Pinkneyretired.
This second unfortunate incident happened after supper, when they wereall gathered in the sitting room, Neale, too, being present. Luke askedDot if she had decided upon a name for the new baby.
"Oh, yes, Mr. Luke," the smallest Corner House girl replied. "Thesailor-baby was christened to-day. Didn't you know!"
"I hadn't heard about it," he confessed. "What is he called?"
Dot told him proudly. And Tess said:
"Don't you think it is a pretty name? Dot found it all her own self. Itwas painted on a barn."
"What's that?" asked Neale suddenly. "What was painted on a barn?"
"The sailor-baby's name," Dot said proudly. "'Nosmo King Kenway.'"
"On a barn!" repeated the puzzled Neale. "Whose barn?"
When he learned that it was Mr. Stout's tobacco barn he looked ratherfunny and asked several other questions of the little girls.
Then he drew a sheet of paper toward him and with a pencil printedsomething upon it, which he passed to Agnes. She burst into laughter atonce, and passed the paper on.
"What is it?" Dot asked curiously. "Is it a funny picture he's drawed?"
"It's funnier than a picture," laughed Luke, who had taken a squint atthe paper. "I declare, isn't that a good one!"
"I don't think you folks are very polite," Tess said, rather haughtily,for the others were not going to show the paper to the little girls. Onthe sheet Neale had arranged the letters of the new baby's name as theywere meant to be read--for he knew what was painted upon the inside ofthe doors of Mr. Stout's barn:
NO SMOKING
Ruth, however, would not let the joke go on. She took Dot up on her lapand explained kindly how the mistake had been make. For Nosmo _was_ apretty name; nobody could deny it. And, of course, King soundedparticularly aristocratic.
Nevertheless, Dot there and then dropped the sailor-baby's fancy name,and he became Jack, to be known by that name forever more.
After the smaller girls had disappeared stairward, Neale and Lukeunfolded one of the card-tables and began a game of chess which shutthem entirely out of the general conversation for the remainder of theevening.
The girls and Mrs. MacCall chatted companionably. They had much to telleach other, for, after all, the Corner House girls and Cecile Shepardhad spent but one adventurous night together and they needed to learnthe particulars of each other's lives before they really could feel "athome with one another," as Agnes expressed it.
Cecile and her brother could scarcely remember their parents; and themaiden aunt they lived with--a half sister of their father's--was theonly relative they knew anything about.
"Oh, no," Cecile said, "we can expect no step-up in this world by theaid of any interested relative. There is no wealthy and influentialuncle or aunt to give us a helping hand. We're lucky to get aneducation. Aunt Lorena makes that possible with her aid. And she doeswhat she can, I know full well, only by much self-sacrifice."
Then the cheerful girl began to laugh reminiscently. "That is," shepursued, "_I_ can look forward to the help of no fairy godmother orgodfather. But Luke is in better odor with Neighbor than I am."
"'Neighbor'!" repeated Ruth. "Who is he? Or is it a what?"
"Or a game?" laughed Agnes. "'Neighbor'!"
"He is really great fun," said Cecile, still laughing. "So I suppose hemight be called a game. He really is a 'neighbor,' however. He is a mannamed Henry Harrison Northrup, who lives right beside Aunt Lorena'slittle cottage in Grantham.
"You see, Luke and I used always to work around Aunt Lorena's yard, andhave a garden, and chickens, and what-not when we were younger.Everybody has big yards in that part of Grantham. And Mr. Northrup, onone side, was always quarreling with auntie. He is a misogynist--"
"A mis-_what_-inest?" gasped Mrs. MacCall, hearing a new word.
"Oh, I know!" cried Agnes, eagerly. "A woman-hater. A man who hateswomen."
"Humph!" scoffed Mrs. MacCall, "is there such indeed? And what do theycall a man-hater?"
"That, Mrs. MacCall, I cannot tell you," laughed Cecile. "I fear thereare no women man-haters--not _really_. At least there is no distinctivetitle for them in the dictionary."
"So much the worse for the dictionary, then," said the Scotch woman."And, of course, _that's_ man-made!"
"It was only the Greeks who were without 'em," put in Ruth, smiling."The perfectly good, expressive English word 'man-hater' is in thedictionary without a doubt."
"But do go on about Neighbor," Agnes urged. "Does he quarrel with youpeople all the time?"
"Not with Luke," Cecile explained. "He likes Luke. He is really veryfond of him, although it seems positively to hurt him to show love foranybody.
"But a long time ago Mr. Northrup began to show an in
terest in Luke. Hewould come to the fence between his and Aunt Lorena's places, and talkwith Luke by the hour. But if either I or aunty came near he'd turnright around and walk away.
"He never allows a woman inside his door and hasn't, they say, fortwenty years. He has a Japanese servant--the only one that was ever seenin Grantham; and they get along without a woman."
"I'd like tae see intae that hoos," snapped Mrs. MacCall, shaking herhead and dropping into her broad Scotch, as she often did when excited."What could twa' buddies of men do alone at housekeeping!"
"Oh, the Jap is trained to it," Cecile said. "Luke says everything isspick and span there. And Mr. Northrup himself, although he dressesqueerly in old-fashioned clothes, has always clean linen and is wellbrushed.
"But he does not often appear outside of his own yard. He really hatesto meet women. His front gate is locked. Luke climbs the fence when hegoes to see Neighbor; but people with skirts aren't supposed to be ableto climb fences; so Mr. Northrup is pretty safe. Even the minister'swife doesn't get in."
"But why do you call him Neighbor?" asked Ruth again.
"That's what he told Luke to call him in the first place. We were notvery old when Luke's strange friendship with Mr. Northrup began. Afterthey had become quite chummy Luke, who was a little fellow, asked theold gentleman if he couldn't call him Uncle Henry. You see, Luke likedhim so much that he wanted to say something warmer than Mister.
"But that would never do. Mr. Northrup seemed to think that mightconnect him in people's minds with Aunt Lorena. So he told Luke finallyto call him Neighbor.
"Of course, the old gentleman is really a _dear_--only he doesn't knowit," continued Cecile. "He thinks he hates women, and the idea ofmarriage is as distasteful to him as a red rag is to a bull.
"He is going to leave Luke all his money he says. At any rate, he haspromised to do something for him when he gets out of college if hemanages to graduate in good odor with the faculty," and Cecile laughed.
"But if Luke should suggest such a thing as marrying--even if the girlwere the nicest girl in the world--Neighbor would not listen to it. Hewould cut their friendship in a moment, I know," added the girlseriously. "And his help may be of great value to Luke later on."
If Cecile had some reason for telling the older Corner House girls andMrs. MacCall this story she did not point the moral of it by as much asa word or a look. They were quickly upon another topic of conversation.But perhaps what she had said had taken deep root in the heart of one,at least, of her audience.