SCENE VI.
_The White Farm. Evening._
TIMOTHY, LADY GAY, AND RAGS PROVE FAITHFUL TO EACH OTHER.
Samantha went into the sitting-room and told the whole story to MissAvilda; told it simply and plainly, for she was not given to arabesquesin language, and then waited for a response.
"Well, what do you advise doin'?" asked Miss Cummins nervously.
"I don't feel comp'tent to advise, Vilda; the house ain't mine, nor yetthe beds that's in it, nor the victuals in the butt'ry; but as aprofessin' Christian and member of the Orthodox Church in good andreg'lar standin' you can't turn 'em ou'doors when it's comin' on darkand they ain't got no place to sleep."
"Plenty of good Orthodox folks turned their backs on Martha when she wasin trouble."
"There may be Orthodox hogs, for all I know," replied the bluntSamantha, who frequently called spades shovels in her search afterabsolute truth of statement, "but that ain't no reason why we shouldcopy after 'em 's I know of."
"I don't propose to take in two strange children and saddle myself with'em for days, or weeks, perhaps," said Miss Cummins coldly, "but I tellyou what I will do. Supposing we send the boy over to Squire Bean's.It's near hayin' time, and he may take him in to help round and dochores. Then we'll tell him before he goes that we'll keep the baby aslong as he gets a chance to work anywheres near. That will give us achance to look round for some place for 'em and find out whether they'vetold us the truth."
"And if Squire Bean won't take him?" asked Samantha, with as much coldindifference as she could assume.
"Well, I suppose there's nothing for it but he must come back here andsleep. I'll go out and tell him so,--I declare I feel as weak as if I'dhad a spell of sickness!"
Timothy bore the news better than Samantha had feared. Squire Bean'sfarm did not look so very far away; his heart was at rest about Gay andhe felt that he could find a shelter for himself somewhere.
"Now, how'll the baby act when she wakes up and finds you're gone?"inquired Miss Vilda anxiously, as Timothy took his hat and bent down tokiss the sleeping child.
"Well, I don't know exactly," answered Timothy, "because she's alwayshad me, you see. But I guess she'll be all right, now that she knows youa little, and if I can see her every day. She never cries except once ina long while when she gets mad; and if you're careful how you behave,she'll hardly ever get mad at you."
"Well I vow!" exclaimed Miss Vilda with a grim glance at Samantha, "Iguess she'd better do the behavin'."
So Timothy was shown the way across the fields to Squire Bean's.Samantha accompanied him to the back gate, where she gave him threedoughnuts and a sneaking kiss, watching him out of sight under thepretense of taking the towels and napkins off the grass.
It was nearly nine o'clock and quite dark when Timothy stole again tothe little gate of the White Farm. The feet that had traveled socourageously over the mile walk to Squire Bean's had come back againslowly and wearily; for it is one thing to be shod with the sandals ofhope, and quite another to tread upon the leaden soles ofdisappointment.
He leaned upon the white picket gate listening to the chirp of the frogsand looking at the fireflies as they hung their gleaming lamps here andthere in the tall grass. Then he crept round to the side door, toimplore the kind offices of the mediator before he entered the presenceof the judge whom he assumed to be sitting in awful state somewhere inthe front part of the house. He lifted the latch noiselessly andentered. Oh horror! Miss Avilda herself was sprinkling clothes at thegreat table on one side of the room. There was a moment of silence.
"He wouldn't have me," said Timothy simply, "he said I wasn't big enoughyet. I offered him Gay, too, but he didn't want her either, and if youplease, I would rather sleep on the sofa so as not to be any moretrouble."
"You won't do any such thing," responded Miss Vilda briskly. "You'vegot a royal welcome this time sure, and I guess you can earn yourlodging fast enough. You hear that?" and she opened the door that ledinto the upper part of the house.
A piercing shriek floated down into the kitchen, and another on theheels of that, and then another. Every drop of blood in Timothy's sparebody rushed to his pale grave face. "Is she being whipped?" hewhispered, with set lips.
"No; she needs it bad enough, but we ain't savages. She's only got thepretty temper that matches her hair, just as you said. I guess wehaven't been behavin' to suit her."
"Can I go up? She'll stop in a minute when she sees me. She never wentto bed without me before, and truly, truly, she's not a cross baby!"
"Come right along and welcome; just so long as she has to stay you'reinvited to visit with her. Land sakes! the neighbors will think we'rekillin' pigs!" and Miss Vilda started upstairs to show Timothy the way.
Gay was sitting up in bed and the faithful Samantha Ann was seatedbeside her with a lapful of useless bribes,--apples, seed-cakes, anillustrated Bible, a thermometer, an ear of red corn, and a largestuffed green bird, the glory of the "keeping room" mantelpiece.
But a whole aviary of highly colored songsters would not have assuagedGay's woe at that moment. Every effort at conciliation was met with theone plaint: "I want my Timfy! I want my Timfy!"
At the first sight of the beloved form, Gay flung the sacred bird intothe furthest corner of the room and burst into a wild sob of delight, asshe threw herself into Timothy's loving arms.
Fifteen minutes later peace had descended on the troubled homestead, andSamantha went into the sitting-room and threw herself into the depths ofthe high-backed rocker. "Land o' liberty! perhaps I ain't het-up!" sheejaculated, as she wiped the sweat of honest toil from her brow andfanned herself vigorously with her apron. "I tell you what, at fiveo'clock I was dreadful sorry I hadn't took Dave Milliken, but now I'mplaguey glad I didn't! Still" (and here she tried to smooth the greenbird's ruffled plumage and restore him to his perch under the reveredglass case), "still, children will be children."
"Some of 'em's considerable more like wild cats," said Miss Avildabriefly.
"You just go upstairs now, and see if you find anything that looks likewild cats; but 't any rate, wild cats or tame cats, we would n't dassturn 'em ou'doors this time o' night for fear of flyin' in the face ofProvidence. If it's a stint He's set us, I don't see but we've got towork it out somehow."
"I'd rather have some other stint."
"To be sure!" retorted Samantha vigorously. "I never see anybody yetthat didn't want to pick out her own stint; but mebbe if we got just theone we wanted it wouldn't be no stint! Land o' liberty, what's that!"
There was a crash of falling tin pans, and Samantha flew to investigatethe cause. About ten minutes later she returned, more heated than ever,and threw herself for the second time into the high-backed rocker.
"That dog's been givin' me a chase, I can tell you! He clawed andscratched so in the shed that I put him in the wood-house; and he wentand clim' up on that carpenter's bench, and pitched out that littlewinder at the top, and fell on to the milk-pan shelf and scattered everylast one of 'em, and then upsot all my cans of termatter plants. But Icouldn't find him, high nor low. All to once I see by the dirt on thefloor that he'd squirmed himself through the skeeter-nettin' door int'the house, and then I surmised where he was. Sure enough, I crep'upstairs and there he was, layin' between the two children as snug asyou please. He was snorin' like a pirate when I found him, but when Istood over the bed with a candle I could see 't his wicked little eyeswas wide open, and he was jest makin' b'lieve sleep in hopes I'd leavehim where he was. Well, I yanked him out quicker 'n scat, 'n' locked himin the old chicken house, so I guess he'll stay out, now. For folks thatclaim to be no blood relation, I declare him 'n' the boy 'n' the babybeats anything I ever come across for bein' fond of one 'nother!"
There were dreams at the White Farm that night. Timothy went to sleepwith a prayer on his lips; a prayer that God would excuse him forspeaking of Martha's doorplate, and a most imploring postscript to theeffect that God would please make Miss Vilda into a mother for Gay;thinking
as he floated off into the land of Nod, "It'll be awful hardwork, but I don't suppose He cares how hard 't is!"
Lady Gay dreamed of driving beautiful white horses beside sparklingwaters ... and through flowery meadows ... And great green birds perchedon all the trees and flew towards her as if to peck the cherries of herlips ... but when she tried to beat them off they all turned intoTimothys and she hugged them close to her heart ...
Rags' visions were gloomy, for he knew not whether the Lady with theFirm Hand would free him from his prison in the morning, or whether hewas there for all time ... But there were intervals of bliss when hisfancies took a brighter turn ... when Hope smiled ... and he bit thewhite cat's tail ... and chased the infant turkeys ... and found sweet,juicy, delicious bones in unexpected places ... and even inhaled, inexquisite anticipation, the fragrance of one particularly succulent bonethat he had hidden under Miss Vilda's bed.
Sleep carried Samantha so many years back into the past that she heardthe blithe din of carpenters hammering and sawing on a little housethat was to be hers, his, _theirs_. ... And as she watched them, withall sorts of maidenly hopes about the home that was to be ... some onestole up behind and caught her at it, and she ran away blushing ... andsome one followed her ... and they watched the carpenters together. ...Somebody else lived in the little house now, and Samantha never blushedany more, but that part was mercifully hidden in the dream.
Miss Vilda's slumber was troubled. She seemed to be walking throughpeaceful meadows, brown with autumn, when all at once there rose in thepath steep hills and rocky mountains ... She felt too tired and too oldto climb, but there was nothing else to be done ... And just as shebegan the toilsome ascent, a little child appeared, and catching herhelplessly by the skirts implored to be taken with her ... And sherefused and went on alone ... but, miracle of miracles, when she reachedthe crest of the first hill the child was there before her, stillbeseeching to be carried ... And again she refused, and again shewearily climbed the heights alone, always meeting the child when shereached their summits, and always enacting the same scene.... At lastshe cried in despair, "Ask me no more, for I have not even strengthenough for my own needs!" ... And the child said, "I will help you;" andstraightway crept into her arms and nestled there as one who would notbe denied ... and she took up her burden and walked.... And as sheclimbed the weight grew lighter and lighter, till at length the clingingarms seemed to give her peace and strength ... and when she neared thecrest of the highest mountain she felt new life throbbing in her veinsand new hopes stirring in her heart, and she remembered no more the painand weariness of her journey.... And all at once a bright angel appearedto her and traced the letters of a word upon her forehead and took thechild from her arms and disappeared.... And the angel had the lovelysmile and sad eyes of Martha ... and the word she traced on Miss Vilda'sforehead was "Inasmuch"!