The Best of Gene Stratton-Porter

by Gene Stratton-Porter

  “Was he doing something he didn’t want my mother to know?”

  “Why?”

  “Because if he had been, he might have cut close the swamp so he couldn’t be seen from the garden. You know, the whole path straight to the pool where he sank can be seen from our back door. It’s firm on our side. The danger is on the north and east. If he didn’t want mother to know, he might have tried to pass on either of those sides and gone too close. Was he in a hurry?”

  “Yes, he was,” said Margaret. “He had been away longer than he expected, and he almost ran when he started home.”

  “And he’d left his violin somewhere that you knew, and you went and got it. I’ll wager he was going to play, and didn’t want mother to find it out!”

  “It wouldn’t make any difference to you if you knew every little thing, so quit thinking about it, and just be glad you are to have what he loved best of anything.”

  “That’s true. Now I must hurry home. I am dreadfully late.”

  Elnora sprang up and ran down the road, but when she approached the cabin she climbed the fence, crossed the open woods pasture diagonally and entered at the back garden gate. As she often came that way when she had been looking for cocoons her mother asked no questions.

  Elnora lived by the minute until Saturday, when, contrary to his usual custom, Wesley went to town in the forenoon, taking her along to buy some groceries. Wesley drove straight to the music store, and asked for the violin he had left to be mended.

  In its new coat of varnish, with new keys and strings, it seemed much like any other violin to Sinton, but to Elnora it was the most beautiful instrument ever made, and a priceless treasure. She held it in her arms, touched the strings softly and then she drew the bow across them in whispering measure. She had no time to think what a remarkably good bow it was for sixteen years’ disuse. The tan leather case might have impressed her as being in fine condition also, had she been in a state to question anything. She did remember to ask for the bill and she was gravely presented with a slip calling for four strings, one key, and a coat of varnish, total, one dollar fifty. It seemed to Elnora she never could put the precious instrument in the case and start home. Wesley left her in the music store where the proprietor showed her all he could about tuning, and gave her several beginners’ sheets of notes and scales. She carried the violin in her arms as far as the crossroads at the corner of their land, then reluctantly put it under the carriage seat.

  As soon as her work was done she ran down to Sintons’ and began to play, and on Monday the violin went to school with her. She made arrangements with the superintendent to leave it in his office and scarcely took time for her food at noon, she was so eager to practise. Often one of the girls asked her to stay in town all night for some lecture or entertainment. She could take the violin with her, practise, and secure help. Her skill was so great that the leader of the orchestra offered to give her lessons if she would play to pay for them, so her progress was rapid in technical work. But from the first day the instrument became hers, with perfect faith that she could play as her father did, she spent half her practice time in imitating the sounds of all outdoors and improvising the songs her happy heart sang in those days.

  So the first year went, and the second and third were a repetition; but the fourth was different, for that was the close of the course, ending with graduation and all its attendant ceremonies and expenses. To Elnora these appeared mountain high. She had hoarded every cent, thinking twice before she parted with a penny, but teaching natural history in the grades had taken time from her studies in school which must be made up outside. She was a conscientious student, ranking first in most of her classes, and standing high in all branches. Her interest in her violin had grown with the years. She went to school early and practised half an hour in the little room adjoining the stage, while the orchestra gathered. She put in a full hour at noon, and remained another half hour at night. She carried the violin to Sintons’ on Saturday and practised all the time she could there, while Margaret watched the road to see that Mrs. Comstock was not coming. She had become so skilful that it was a delight to hear her play music of any composer, but when she played her own, that was joy inexpressible, for then the wind blew, the water rippled, the Limberlost sang her songs of sunshine, shadow, black storm, and white night.

  Since her dream Elnora had regarded her mother with peculiar tenderness. The girl realized, in a measure, what had happened. She avoided anything that possibly could stir bitter memories or draw deeper a line on the hard, white face. This cost many sacrifices, much work, and sometimes delayed progress, but the horror of that awful dream remained with Elnora. She worked her way cheerfully, doing all she could to interest her mother in things that happened in school, in the city, and by carrying books that were entertaining from the public library.

  Three years had changed Elnora from the girl of sixteen to the very verge of womanhood. She had grown tall, round, and her face had the loveliness of perfect complexion, beautiful eyes and hair and an added touch from within that might have been called comprehension. It was a compound of self-reliance, hard knocks, heart hunger, unceasing work, and generosity. There was no form of suffering with which the girl could not sympathize, no work she was afraid to attempt, no subject she had investigated she did not understand. These things combined to produce a breadth and depth of character altogether unusual. She was so absorbed in her classes and her music that she had not been able to gather many specimens. When she realized this and hunted assiduously, she soon found that changing natural conditions had affected such work. Men all around were clearing available land. The trees fell wherever corn would grow. The swamp was broken by several gravel roads, dotted in places around the edge with little frame houses, and the machinery of oil wells; one especially low place around the region of Freckles’s room was nearly all that remained of the original. Wherever the trees fell the moisture dried, the creeks ceased to flow, the river ran low, and at times the bed was dry. With unbroken sweep the winds of the west came, gathering force with every mile and howled and raved; threatening to tear the shingles from the roof, blowing the surface from the soil in clouds of fine dust and rapidly changing everything. From coming in with two or three dozen rare moths in a day, in three years’ time Elnora had grown to be delighted with finding two or three. Big pursy caterpillars could not be picked from their favourite bushes, when there were no bushes. Dragonflies would not hover over dry places, and butterflies became scarce in proportion to the flowers, while no land yields over three crops of Indian relics.

  All the time the expense of books, clothing and incidentals had continued. Elnora added to her bank account whenever she could, and drew out when she was compelled, but she omitted the important feature of calling for a balance. So, one early spring morning in the last quarter of the fourth year, she almost fainted when she learned that her funds were gone. Commencement with its extra expense was coming, she had no money, and very few cocoons to open in June, which would be too late. She had one collection for the Bird Woman complete to a pair of Imperialis moths, and that was her only asset. On the day she added these big Yellow Emperors she had been promised a check for three hundred dollars, but she would not get it until these specimens were secured. She remembered that she never had found an Emperor before June.

  Moreover, that sum was for her first year in college. Then she would be of age, and she meant to sell enough of her share of her father’s land to finish. She knew her mother would oppose her bitterly in that, for Mrs. Comstock had clung to every acre and tree that belonged to her husband. Her land was almost complete forest where her neighbours owned cleared farms, dotted with wells that every hour sucked oil from beneath her holdings, but she was too absorbed in the grief she nursed to know or care. The Brushwood road and the redredging of the big Limberlost ditch had been more than she could pay from her income, and she had trembled before the wicket as she asked the banker if she had funds to pay it, and wondered why he laughed when he
assured her she had. For Mrs. Comstock had spent no time on compounding interest, and never added the sums she had been depositing through nearly twenty years. Now she thought her funds were almost gone, and every day she worried over expenses. She could see no reason in going through the forms of graduation when pupils had all in their heads that was required to graduate. Elnora knew she had to have her diploma in order to enter the college she wanted to attend, but she did not dare utter the word, until high school was finished, for, instead of softening as she hoped her mother had begun to do, she seemed to remain very much the same.

  When the girl reached the swamp she sat on a log and thought over the expense she was compelled to meet. Every member of her particular set was having a large photograph taken to exchange with the others. Elnora loved these girls and boys, and to say she could not have their pictures to keep was more than she could endure. Each one would give to all the others a handsome graduation present. She knew they would prepare gifts for her whether she could make a present in return or not. Then it was the custom for each graduating class to give a great entertainment and use the funds to present the school with a statue for the entrance hall. Elnora had been cast for and was practising a part in that performance. She was expected to furnish her dress and personal necessities. She had been told that she must have a green gauze dress, and where was it to come from?

  Every girl of the class would have three beautiful new frocks for Commencement: one for the baccalaureate sermon, another, which could be plain, for graduation exercises, and a handsome one for the banquet and ball. Elnora faced the past three years and wondered how she could have spent so much money and not kept account of it. She did not realize where it had gone. She did not know what she could do now. She thought over the photographs, and at last settled that question to her satisfaction. She studied longer over the gifts, ten handsome ones there must be, and at last decided she could arrange for them. The green dress came first. The lights would be dim in the scene, and the setting deep woods. She could manage that. She simply could not have three dresses. She would have to get a very simple one for the sermon and do the best she could for graduation. Whatever she got for that must be made with a guimpe that could be taken out to make it a little more festive for the ball. But where could she get even two pretty dresses?

  The only hope she could see was to break into the collection of the man from India, sell some moths, and try to replace them in June. But in her soul she knew that never would do. No June ever brought just the things she hoped it would. If she spent the college money she knew she could not replace it. If she did not, the only way was to secure a room in the grades and teach a year. Her work there had been so appreciated that Elnora felt with the recommendation she knew she could get from the superintendent and teachers she could secure a position. She was sure she could pass the examinations easily. She had once gone on Saturday, taken them and secured a license for a year before she left the Brushwood school.

  She wanted to start to college when the other girls were going. If she could make the first year alone, she could manage the remainder. But make that first year herself, she must. Instead of selling any of her collection, she must hunt as she never before had hunted and find a Yellow Emperor. She had to have it, that was all. Also, she had to have those dresses. She thought of Wesley and dismissed it. She thought of the Bird Woman, and knew she could not tell her. She thought of every way in which she ever had hoped to earn money and realized that with the play, committee meetings, practising, and final examinations she scarcely had time to live, much less to do more than the work required for her pictures and gifts. Again Elnora was in trouble, and this time it seemed the worst of all.

  It was dark when she arose and went home.

  “Mother,” she said, “I have a piece of news that is decidedly not cheerful.”

  “Then keep it to yourself!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I think I have enough to bear without a great girl like you piling trouble on me.”

  “My money is all gone!” said Elnora.

  “Well, did you think it would last forever? It’s been a marvel to me that it’s held out as well as it has, the way you’ve dressed and gone.”

  “I don’t think I’ve spent any that I was not compelled to,” said Elnora. “I’ve dressed on just as little as I possibly could to keep going. I am heartsick. I thought I had over fifty dollars to put me through Commencement, but they tell me it is all gone.”

  “Fifty dollars! To put you through Commencement! What on earth are you proposing to do?”

  “The same as the rest of them, in the very cheapest way possible.”

  “And what might that be?”

  Elnora omitted the photographs, the gifts and the play. She told only of the sermon, graduation exercises, and the ball.

  “Well, I wouldn’t trouble myself over that,” sniffed Mrs. Comstock. “If you want to go to a sermon, put on the dress you always use for meeting. If you need white for the exercises wear the new dress you got last spring. As for the ball, the best thing for you to do is to stay a mile away from such folly. In my opinion you’d best bring home your books, and quit right now. You can’t be fixed like the rest of them, don’t be so foolish as to run into it. Just stay here and let these last few days go. You can’t learn enough more to be of any account.”

  “But, mother,” gasped Elnora. “You don’t understand!”

  “Oh, yes, I do!” said Mrs. Comstock. “I understand perfectly. So long as the money lasted, you held up your head, and went sailing without even explaining how you got it from the stuff you gathered. Goodness knows I couldn’t see. But now it’s gone, you come whining to me. What have I got? Have you forgot that the ditch and the road completely strapped me? I haven’t any money. There’s nothing for you to do but get out of it.”

  “I can’t!” said Elnora desperately. “I’ve gone on too long. It would make a break in everything. They wouldn’t let me have my diploma!”

  “What’s the difference? You’ve got the stuff in your head. I wouldn’t give a rap for a scrap of paper. That don’t mean anything!”

  “But I’ve worked four years for it, and I can’t enter—I ought to have it to help me get a school, when I want to teach. If I don’t have my grades to show, people will think I quit because I couldn’t pass my examinations. I must have my diploma!”

  “Then get it!” said Mrs. Comstock.

  “The only way is to graduate with the others.”

  “Well, graduate if you are bound to!”

  “But I can’t, unless I have things enough like the class, that I don’t look as I did that first day.”

  “Well, please remember I didn’t get you into this, and I can’t get you out. You are set on having your own way. Go on, and have it, and see how you like it!”

  Elnora went upstairs and did not come down again that night, which her mother called pouting.

  “I’ve thought all night,” said the girl at breakfast, “and I can’t see any way but to borrow the money of Uncle Wesley and pay it back from some that the Bird Woman will owe me, when I get one more specimen. But that means that I can’t go to—that I will have to teach this winter, if I can get a city grade or a country school.”

  “Just you dare go dinging after Wesley Sinton for money,” cried Mrs. Comstock. “You won’t do any such a thing!”

  “I can’t see any other way. I’ve got to have the money!”

  “Quit, I tell you!”

  “I can’t quit!—I’ve gone too far!”

  “Well then, let me get your clothes, and you can pay me back.”

  “But you said you had no money!”

  “Maybe I can borrow some at the bank. Then you can return it when the Bird Woman pays you.”

  “All right,” said Elnora. “I don’t need expensive things. Just some kind of a pretty cheap white dress for the sermon, and a white one a little better than I had last summer, for Commencement and the ball. I can use the white gloves and shoes I got myself for last year, an
d you can get my dress made at the same place you did that one. They have my measurements, and do perfect work. Don’t get expensive things. It will be warm so I can go bareheaded.”

  Then she started to school, but was so tired and discouraged she scarcely could walk. Four years’ plans going in one day! For she felt that if she did not start to college that fall she never would. Instead of feeling relieved at her mother’s offer, she was almost too ill to go on. For the thousandth time she groaned: “Oh, why didn’t I keep account of my money?”

  After that the days passed so swiftly she scarcely had time to think, but several trips her mother made to town, and the assurance that everything was all right, satisfied Elnora. She worked very hard to pass good final examinations and perfect herself for the play. For two days she had remained in town with the Bird Woman in order to spend more time practising and at her work.

  Often Margaret had asked about her dresses for graduation, and Elnora had replied that they were with a woman in the city who had made her a white dress for last year’s Commencement when she was a junior usher, and they would be all right. So Margaret, Wesley, and Billy concerned themselves over what they would give her for a present. Margaret suggested a beautiful dress. Wesley said that would look to every one as if she needed dresses. The thing was to get a handsome gift like all the others would have. Billy wanted to present her a five-dollar gold piece to buy music for her violin. He was positive Elnora would like that best of anything.

  It was toward the close of the term when they drove to town one evening to try to settle this important question. They knew Mrs. Comstock had been alone several days, so they asked her to accompany them. She had been more lonely than she would admit, filled with unusual unrest besides, and so she was glad to go. But before they had driven a mile Billy had told that they were going to buy Elnora a graduation present, and Mrs. Comstock devoutly wished that she had remained at home. She was prepared when Billy asked: “Aunt Kate, what are you going to give Elnora when she graduates?”