Then she wiped away some tears that began coursing her cheeks, and laughed at the same time.
“Where are they now?” asked Elnora suddenly.
“They are widely scattered, but none of them have attained heights out of range. Some of the rich are poor, and some of the poor are rich. Some of the brightest died insane, and some of the dullest worked out high positions; some of the very worst to bear have gone out, and I frequently hear from others. Now I am here, able to remember it, and mingle laughter with what used to be all tears; for every day I have my beautiful work, and almost every day God sends some one like you to help me. What is your name, my girl?”
“Elnora Comstock,” answered Elnora. “Yesterday on the board it changed to Cornstock, and for a minute I thought I’d die, but I can laugh over that already.”
The Bird Woman arose and kissed her. “Finish your lunch,” she said, “and I will bring my price lists, and make a memorandum of what you think you have, so I will know how many boxes to prepare. And remember this: What you are lies with you. If you are lazy, and accept your lot, you may live in it. If you are willing to work, you can write your name anywhere you choose, among the only ones who live beyond the grave in this world, the people who write books that help, make exquisite music, carve statues, paint pictures, and work for others. Never mind the calico dress, and the coarse shoes. Work at your books, and before long you will hear yesterday’s tormentors boasting that they were once classmates of yours. ‘I could a tale unfold’—!”
She laughingly left the room and Elnora sat thinking, until she remembered how hungry she was, so she ate the food, drank the hot chocolate and began to feel better.
Then the Bird Woman came back and showed Elnora a long printed slip giving a list of graduated prices for moths, butterflies, and dragonflies.
“Oh, do you want them!” exulted Elnora. “I have a few and I can get more by the thousand, with every colour in the world on their wings.”
“Yes,” said the Bird Woman, “I will buy them, also the big moth caterpillars that are creeping everywhere now, and the cocoons that they will spin just about this time. I have a sneaking impression that the mystery, wonder, and the urge of their pure beauty, are going to force me to picture and paint our moths and put them into a book for all the world to see and know. We Limberlost people must not be selfish with the wonders God has given to us. We must share with those poor cooped-up city people the best we can. To send them a beautiful book, that is the way, is it not, little new friend of mine?”
“Yes, oh yes!” cried Elnora. “And please God they find a way to earn the money to buy the books, as I have those I need so badly.”
“I will pay good prices for all the moths you can find,” said the Bird Woman, “because you see I exchange them with foreign collectors. I want a complete series of the moths of America to trade with a German scientist, another with a man in India, and another in Brazil. Others I can exchange with home collectors for those of California and Canada, so you see I can use all you can raise, or find. The banker will buy stone axes, arrow points, and Indian pipes. There was a teacher from the city grade schools here to-day for specimens. There is a fund to supply the ward buildings. I’ll help you get in touch with that. They want leaves of different trees, flowers, grasses, moths, insects, birds’ nests, and anything about birds.”
Elnora’s eyes were blazing. “Had I better go back to school or open a bank account and begin being a millionaire? Uncle Wesley and I have a bushel of arrow points gathered, a stack of axes, pipes, skin-dressing tools, tubes, and mortars. I don’t know how I ever shall wait three hours.”
“You must go, or you will be late,” said the Bird Woman. “I will be ready at four.”
After school closed Elnora, seated beside the Bird Woman, drove to Freckles’s room in the Limberlost. One at a time the beautiful big moths were taken from the interior of the old black case. Not a fourth of them could be moved that night and it was almost dark when the last box was closed, the list figured, and into Elnora’s trembling fingers were paid fifty-nine dollars and sixteen cents. Elnora clasped the money closely.
“Oh you beautiful stuff!” she cried. “You are going to buy the books, pay the tuition, and take me to high school.”
Then because she was a woman, she sat on a log and looked at her shoes. Long after the Bird Woman drove away Elnora remained. She had her problem, and it was a big one. If she told her mother, would she take the money to pay the taxes? If she did not tell her, how could she account for the books, and things for which she would spend it. At last she counted out what she needed for the next day, placed the remainder in the farthest corner of the case, and locked the door. She then filled the front of her skirt from a heap of arrow points beneath the case and started home.
Chapter 4
Wherein the Sintons Are Disappointed, and Mrs. Comstock Learns that She Can Laugh
With the first streak of red above the Limberlost Margaret Sinton was busy with the gingham and the intricate paper pattern she had purchased. Wesley cooked the breakfast and worked until he thought Elnora would be gone, then he started to bring her mother.
“Now you be mighty careful,” cautioned Margaret. “I don’t know how she will take it.”
“I don’t either,” said Wesley philosophically, “but she’s got to take it some way. That dress has to be finished by school time in the morning.”
Wesley had not slept well that night. He had been so busy framing diplomatic speeches to make to Mrs. Comstock that sleep had little chance with him. Every step nearer to her he approached his position seemed less enviable. By the time he reached the front gate and started down the walk between the rows of asters and lady slippers he was perspiring, and every plausible and convincing speech had fled his brain. Mrs. Comstock helped him. She met him at the door.
“Good morning,” she said. “Did Margaret send you for something?”
“Yes,” said Wesley. “She’s got a job that’s too big for her, and she wants you to help.”
“Of course I will,” said Mrs. Comstock. It was no one’s affair how lonely the previous day had been, or how the endless hours of the present would drag. “What is she doing in such a rush?”
Now was his chance.
“She’s making a dress for Elnora,” answered, Wesley. He saw Mrs. Comstock’s form straighten, and her face harden, so he continued hastily. “You see Elnora has been helping us at harvest time, butchering, and with unexpected visitors for years. We’ve made out that she’s saved us a considerable sum, and as she wouldn’t ever touch any pay for anything, we just went to town and got a few clothes we thought would fix her up a little for the high school. We want to get a dress done to-day mighty bad, but Margaret is slow about sewing, and she never can finish alone, so I came after you.”
“And it’s such a simple little matter, so dead easy; and all so between old friends like, that you can’t look above your boots while you explain it,” sneered Mrs. Comstock. “Wesley Sinton, what put the idea into your head that Elnora would take things bought with money, when she wouldn’t take the money?”
Then Sinton’s eyes came up straightly.
“Finding her on the trail last night sobbing as hard as I ever saw any one at a funeral. She wasn’t complaining at all, but she’s come to me all her life with her little hurts, and she couldn’t hide how she’d been laughed at, twitted, and run face to face against the fact that there were books and tuition, unexpected, and nothing will ever make me believe you didn’t know that, Kate Comstock.”
“If any doubts are troubling you on that subject, sure I knew it! She was so anxious to try the world, I thought I’d just let her take a few knocks and see how she liked them.”
“As if she’d ever taken anything but knocks all her life!” cried Wesley Sinton. “Kate Comstock, you are a heartless, selfish woman. You’ve never shown Elnora any real love in her life. If ever she finds out that thing you’ll lose her, and it will serve you right.”
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p; “She knows it now,” said Mrs. Comstock icily, “and she’ll be home to-night just as usual.”
“Well, you are a brave woman if you dared put a girl of Elnora’s make through what she suffered yesterday, and will suffer again to-day, and let her know you did it on purpose. I admire your nerve. But I’ve watched this since Elnora was born, and I got enough. Things have come to a pass where they go better for her, or I interfere.”
“As if you’d ever done anything but interfere all her life! Think I haven’t watched you? Think I, with my heart raw in my breast, and too numb to resent it openly, haven’t seen you and Mag Sinton trying to turn Elnora against me day after day? When did you ever tell her what her father meant to me? When did you ever try to make her see the wreck of my life, and what I’ve suffered? No indeed! Always it’s been poor little abused Elnora, and cakes, kissing, extra clothes, and encouraging her to run to you with a pitiful mouth every time I tried to make a woman of her.”
“Kate Comstock, that’s unjust,” cried Sinton. “Only last night I tried to show her the picture I saw the day she was born. I begged her to come to you and tell you pleasant what she needed, and ask you for what I happen to know you can well afford to give her.”
“I can’t!” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You know I can’t!”
“Then get so you can!” said Wesley Sinton. “Any day you say the word you can sell six thousand worth of rare timber off this place easy. I’ll see to clearing and working the fields cheap as dirt, for Elnora’s sake. I’ll buy you more cattle to fatten. All you’ve got to do is sign a lease, to pull thousands from the ground in oil, as the rest of us are doing all around you!”
“Cut down Robert’s trees!” shrieked Mrs. Comstock. “Tear up his land! Cover everything with horrid, greasy oil! I’ll die first.”
“You mean you’ll let Elnora go like a beggar, and hurt and mortify her past bearing. I’ve got to the place where I tell you plain what I am going to do. Maggie and I went to town last night, and we bought what things Elnora needs most urgent to make her look a little like the rest of the high school girls. Now here it is in plain English. You can help get these things ready, and let us give them to her as we want—”
“She won’t touch them!” cried Mrs. Comstock.
“Then you can pay us, and she can take them as her right—”
“I won’t!”
“Then I will tell Elnora just what you are worth, what you can afford, and how much of this she owns. I’ll loan her the money to buy books and decent clothes, and when she is of age she can sell her share and pay me.”
Mrs. Comstock gripped a chair-back and opened her lips, but no words came.
“And,” Sinton continued, “if she is so much like you that she won’t do that, I’ll go to the county seat and lay complaint against you as her guardian before the judge. I’ll swear to what you are worth, and how you are raising her, and have you discharged, or have the judge appoint some man who will see that she is comfortable, educated, and decent looking!”
“You—you wouldn’t!” gasped Kate Comstock.
“I won’t need to, Kate!” said Sinton, his heart softening the instant the hard words were said. “You won’t show it, but you do love Elnora! You can’t help it! You must see how she needs things; come help us fix them, and be friends. Maggie and I couldn’t live without her, and you couldn’t either. You’ve got to love such a fine girl as she is; let it show a little!”
“You can hardly expect me to love her,” said Mrs. Comstock coldly. “But for her a man would stand back of me now, who would beat the breath out of your sneaking body for the cowardly thing with which you threaten me. After all I’ve suffered you’d drag me to court and compel me to tear up Robert’s property. If I ever go they carry me. If they touch one tree, or put down one greasy old oil well, it will be over all I can shoot, before they begin. Now, see how quick you can clear out of here!”
“You won’t come and help Maggie with the dress?”
For answer Mrs. Comstock looked around swiftly for some object on which to lay her hands. Knowing her temper, Wesley Sinton left with all the haste consistent with dignity. But he did not go home. He crossed a field, and in an hour brought another neighbour who was skilful with her needle. With sinking heart Margaret saw them coming.
“Kate is too busy to help to-day, she can’t sew before to-morrow,” said Wesley cheerfully as they entered.
That quieted Margaret’s apprehension a little, though she had some doubts. Wesley prepared the lunch, and by four o’clock the dress was finished as far as it possibly could be until it was fitted on Elnora. If that did not entail too much work, it could be completed in two hours.
Then Margaret packed their purchases into the big market basket. Wesley took the hat, umbrella, and raincoat, and they went to Mrs. Comstock’s. As they reached the step, Margaret spoke pleasantly to Mrs. Comstock, who sat reading just inside the door, but she did not answer and deliberately turned a leaf without looking up.
Wesley Sinton opened the door and went in followed by Margaret.
“Kate,” he said, “you needn’t take out your mad over our little racket on Maggie. I ain’t told her a word I said to you, or you said to me. She’s not so very strong, and she’s sewed since four o’clock this morning to get this dress ready for to-morrow. It’s done and we came down to try it on Elnora.”
“Is that the truth, Mag Sinton?” demanded Mrs. Comstock.
“You heard Wesley say so,” proudly affirmed Mrs. Sinton.
“I want to make you a proposition,” said Wesley. “Wait till Elnora comes. Then we’ll show her the things and see what she says.”
“How would it do to see what she says without bribing her,” sneered Mrs. Comstock.
“If she can stand what she did yesterday, and will to-day, she can bear ’most anything,” said Wesley. “Put away the clothes if you want to, till we tell her.”
“Well, you don’t take this waist I’m working on,” said Margaret, “for I have to baste in the sleeves and set the collar. Put the rest out of sight if you like.”
Mrs. Comstock picked up the basket and bundles, placed them inside her room and closed the door.
Margaret threaded her needle and began to sew. Mrs. Comstock returned to her book, while Wesley fidgeted and raged inwardly. He could see that Margaret was nervous and almost in tears, but the lines in Mrs. Comstock’s impassive face were set and cold. So they sat while the clock ticked off the time—one hour, two, dusk, and no Elnora. Just when Margaret and Wesley were discussing whether he had not better go to town to meet Elnora, they heard her coming up the walk. Wesley dropped his tilted chair and squared himself. Margaret gripped her sewing, and turned pleading eyes toward the door. Mrs. Comstock closed her book and grimly smiled.
“Mother, please open the door,” called Elnora.
Mrs. Comstock arose, and swung back the screen. Elnora stepped in beside her, bent half double, the whole front of her dress gathered into a sort of bag filled with a heavy load, and one arm stacked high with books. In the dim light she did not see the Sintons.
“Please hand me the empty bucket in the kitchen, mother,” she said. “I just had to bring these arrow points home, but I’m scared for fear I’ve spoiled my dress and will have to wash it. I’m to clean them, and take them to the banker in the morning, and oh, mother, I’ve sold enough stuff to pay for my books, my tuition, and maybe a dress and some lighter shoes besides. Oh, mother I’m so happy! Take the books and bring the bucket!”
Then she saw Margaret and Wesley. “Oh, glory!” she exulted. “I was just wondering how I’d ever wait to tell you, and here you are! It’s too perfectly splendid to be true!”
“Tell us, Elnora,” said Sinton.
“Well sir,” said Elnora, doubling down on the floor and spreading out her skirt, “set the bucket here, mother. These points are brittle, and should be put in one at a time. If they are chipped I can’t sell them. Well sir! I’ve had a time! You know I just had to have books. I tri
ed three stores, and they wouldn’t trust me, not even three days, I didn’t know what in this world I could do quickly enough. Just when I was almost frantic I saw a sign in a bank window asking for caterpillars, cocoons, butterflies, arrow points, and everything. I went in, and it was this Bird Woman who wants the insects, and the banker wants the stones. I had to go to school then, but, if you’ll believe it”—Elnora beamed on all of them in turn as she talked and slipped the arrow points from her dress to the pail—”if you’ll believe it—but you won’t, hardly, until you look at the books—there was the mathematics teacher, waiting at his door, and he had a set of books for me that he had telephoned a Sophomore to bring.”
“How did he happen to do that, Elnora?” interrupted Sinton.
Elnora blushed.
“It was a fool mistake I made yesterday in thinking books were just handed out to one. There was a teachers’ meeting last night and the history teacher told about that. Professor Henley thought of me. You know I told you what he said about my algebra, mother. Ain’t I glad I studied out some of it myself this summer! So he telephoned and a girl brought the books. Because they are marked and abused some I get the whole outfit for two dollars. I can erase most of the marks, paste down the covers, and fix them so they look better. But I must hurry to the joy part. I didn’t stop to eat, at noon, I just ran to the Bird Woman’s, and I had lunch with her. It was salad, hot chocolate, and lovely things, and she wants to buy most every old scrap I ever gathered. She wants dragonflies, moths, butterflies, and he—the banker, I mean—wants everything Indian. This very night she came to the swamp with me and took away enough stuff to pay for the books and tuition, and to-morrow she is going to buy some more.”
Elnora laid the last arrow point in the pail and arose, shaking leaves and bits of baked earth from her dress. She reached into her pocket, produced her money and waved it before their wondering eyes.
“And that’s the joy part!” she exulted. “Put it up in the clock till morning, mother. That pays for the books and tuition and—” Elnora hesitated, for she saw the nervous grasp with which her mother’s fingers closed on the bills. Then she continued, but more slowly and thinking before she spoke.
The Best of Gene Stratton-Porter Page 29
