CHAPTER VI
PEG'S BARK
Virginia and Lafe Grandoken sat for some time with nothing but thetick-tack of the hammer to break the silence.
"It bein' the first time you've visited us, kid," broke in the man,pausing, "you can't be knowin' just what's made us live this way."
Virginia made a negative gesture and smiled, settling herselfhopefully for a story, but Lafe brought a frightened expressionquickly to her face by his low, even voice, and the ominous meaning ofhis words.
"Me an' Peg's awful poor," said he.
"Then mebbe I'd better not stay, Mr. Lafe," faltered Jinnie.
The cobbler threaded his fingers through his hair.
"The shanty's awful small," he interjected, thoughtfully.
"I think it's awful nice, though," offered the girl. Some thoughtclosed her blue eyes, but they flashed open instantly.
"Cobbler," she faltered, "is Mrs. Peggy mad when she grits her teethand wags her head?"
As if by its own volition the cobbler's hammer stayed itself in theair.
"No," he smiled, "just when she acts the worst is when she's likely todo her best ... I've knowed Peggy this many a year."
"She was a wee little bit cross to me," commented the girl.
"Was she? I didn't hear anything she said."
"I'll tell you, then, Mr. Lafe," said Virginia. "When I was standingby the fire warming my hands, she come bustling out and looked awfulmad. She said something about folks keeping their girls to home."
"Well, what after that?" asked the cobbler, as Jinnie hesitated.
"She said she could see me eating my head off, and as long as I had tohide from my uncle, I wouldn't be able to earn my salt."
"Well, that's right," affirmed the cobbler, wagging his head. "You gotto keep low for a while. Your Uncle Morse knows a lot of folks in thistown."
"But they don't know me," said Virginia.
"That's good," remarked Lafe.
As he said this, Peg opened the door roughly and ordered them in tobreakfast.
Virginia sat beside the cobbler at the meager meal. On the table werethree bowls of hot mush. As the fragrant odor rose to her nostrils,waves of joy crept slowly through the young body.
"Peggy 'lowed you'd be hungry, kid," said the cobbler, pushing a bowlin front of her.
Mrs. Grandoken interrupted her husband with a growl.
"If I've any mem'ry, you 'lowed it yourself, Lafe Grandoken," shemuttered.
A smile deepened on the cobbler's face and a slight flush rose to hisforehead.
"I 'lowed it, too, Peggy dear," he said.
"Eat your mush," snapped the woman, "an', Lafe, don't 'Peggy dear' me.I hate it; see?"
Virginia refused to believe the startling words. She would haveadored being called "dear." In Lafe's voice, great love rang out; inthe woman's, she scarcely knew what. She glanced from one to the otheras the cobbler lifted his head. He was always thanking some one insome unknown place for the priceless gift of his woman.
"I'll 'Peggy dear' you whenever I feel like it, wife," he saidgravely, "for God knows you're awful dear to me, Peg."
Mrs. Grandoken ignored his speech, but when she returned from thestove, her voice was a little more gentle.
"You can both stuff your innards with hot mush. You can't starve onthat.... Here, kid, sit a little nearer!"
So Virginia Singleton, the lame cobbler, and Peggy began their firstmeal, facing a new day, which to Lafe was yesterday's to-morrow.
A little later Virginia followed the wheel chair into the cobbler'sshop. Peggy grumblingly left them to return to her duties in thekitchen.
"Terrible cold day this," Lafe observed, picking up a shoe. "Thewind's blowin' forty miles the hour."
Virginia's next remark was quite irrelevant to the wind.
"I'm hoping Mrs. Peggy'll get the money she was talking about."
"Did she tell you she needed some?"
Virginia nodded, and when she spoke again, her tongue was parched anddry.
"She said she had to have money to-night. I hope she gets it; if shedoesn't I can't stay and live with you."
"I hope she gets it, too," sighed the cobbler.
Of a sudden a thought seemed to strike him. The girl noticed it andlooked a question.
"Peggy's bark's worser'n her bite," Lafe explained in answer. "She'slike a lot of them little pups that do a lot of barkin' but wouldn'tset their teeth in a biscuit."
"Does that mean," Jinnie asked eagerly, "if she don't get the twodollars to-night, Mrs. Peggy might let me stay?"
"That's just what it means," replied Lafe, making loud whacks on thesole of a shoe. "You'll stay, all right."
The depth of Virginia's gratitude just then could only be estimated byone who had passed through the same fires of deep uncertainty, and inthe ardor of it she flung her arms around the cobbler's neck andkissed him.
* * * * *
When Lafe, with useless legs, had been brought home to his wife, shehad stoically taken up the burden that had been his. At her husband'ssuggestion that he should cobble, Mrs. Grandoken had fitted up thelittle shop, telling him grimly that every hand in the world should doits share. And that was how Lafe Grandoken, laborer and optimist,began his life's great work--of cobbling a ray of comfort to everysoul entering the shack. Sometimes he would insist that the sun shonebrighter than the day before; then again that the clouds had a coolingeffect. But if in the world outside Lafe found no comfort, he alwaysspoke of to-morrow with a ring of hope in his voice.
Hope for another day was all Lafe had save Peggy, and to him thesetwo--hope and the woman--were Heaven's choicest gifts. Now Peggydidn't realize all these things, because the world, with its trialsand vicissitudes, gave her a different aspect of life, and she was notin even her ordinary good humor this day as she prepared the middaymeal. Her mind was busy with thoughts of the new burden which themorning had brought.
Generally Lafe consulted her about any problem that presented itselfbefore him, but, that day, he had taken a young stranger into theirhome, and Mrs. Grandoken had used all kinds of arguments to persuadehim to send the girl away. Peggy didn't want another mouth to feed.She didn't care for any one in the world but Lafe anyway.
When the dinner was on the table, she grimly brought her husband'swheel chair to the kitchen. Virginia, by the cobbler's invitation,followed.
"Any money paid in to-day?" asked Peggy gruffly, drawing the cobblerto his place at the table.
"No," he said, smiling up at her, "but there'll be a lot to-morrow....Is there some bread for----for Jinnie, too?"
Peggy replied by sticking her fork into a biscuit and pushing it offon Virginia's plate with her finger.
Virginia acknowledged it with a shy upward glance. Peg's stolid faceand quick, insistent movements filled her with vague discomfort. Ifthe woman had tempered her harsh, "Take it, kid," with a smile, thelittle girl's heart might have ached less.
Lafe nodded to her when his wife left the room for a moment.
"That biscuit's Peg's bite," said he, "so she'll bark a lot the restof the day, but don't you mind."
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