CHAPTER 18
SPRING DAYS
The ice in the harbor grew black and rotten in the March suns; in Aprilthere were blue waters and a windy, white-capped gulf again; and againthe Four Winds light begemmed the twilights.
"I'm so glad to see it once more," said Anne, on the first evening ofits reappearance. "I've missed it so all winter. The northwestern skyhas seemed blank and lonely without it."
The land was tender with brand-new, golden-green, baby leaves. Therewas an emerald mist on the woods beyond the Glen. The seaward valleyswere full of fairy mists at dawn.
Vibrant winds came and went with salt foam in their breath. The sealaughed and flashed and preened and allured, like a beautiful,coquettish woman. The herring schooled and the fishing village woke tolife. The harbor was alive with white sails making for the channel.The ships began to sail outward and inward again.
"On a spring day like this," said Anne, "I know exactly what my soulwill feel like on the resurrection morning."
"There are times in spring when I sorter feel that I might have been apoet if I'd been caught young," remarked Captain Jim. "I catch myselfconning over old lines and verses I heard the schoolmaster recitingsixty years ago. They don't trouble me at other times. Now I feel asif I had to get out on the rocks or the fields or the water and spoutthem."
Captain Jim had come up that afternoon to bring Anne a load of shellsfor her garden, and a little bunch of sweet-grass which he had found ina ramble over the sand dunes.
"It's getting real scarce along this shore now," he said. "When I wasa boy there was a-plenty of it. But now it's only once in a whileyou'll find a plot--and never when you're looking for it. You jesthave to stumble on it--you're walking along on the sand hills, neverthinking of sweet-grass--and all at once the air is full ofsweetness--and there's the grass under your feet. I favor the smell ofsweet-grass. It always makes me think of my mother."
"She was fond of it?" asked Anne.
"Not that I knows on. Dunno's she ever saw any sweet-grass. No, it'sbecause it has a kind of motherly perfume--not too young, youunderstand--something kind of seasoned and wholesome anddependable--jest like a mother. The schoolmaster's bride always keptit among her handkerchiefs. You might put that little bunch amongyours, Mistress Blythe. I don't like these boughten scents--but awhiff of sweet-grass belongs anywhere a lady does."
Anne had not been especially enthusiastic over the idea of surroundingher flower beds with quahog shells; as a decoration they did not appealto her on first thought. But she would not have hurt Captain Jim'sfeelings for anything; so she assumed a virtue she did not at firstfeel, and thanked him heartily. And when Captain Jim had proudlyencircled every bed with a rim of the big, milk-white shells, Annefound to her surprise that she liked the effect. On a town lawn, oreven up at the Glen, they would not have been in keeping, but here, inthe old-fashioned, sea-bound garden of the little house of dreams, theyBELONGED.
"They DO look nice," she said sincerely.
"The schoolmaster's bride always had cowhawks round her beds," saidCaptain Jim. "She was a master hand with flowers. She LOOKED at'em--and touched 'em--SO--and they grew like mad. Some folks have thatknack--I reckon you have it, too, Mistress Blythe."
"Oh, I don't know--but I love my garden, and I love working in it. Topotter with green, growing things, watching each day to see the dear,new sprouts come up, is like taking a hand in creation, I think. Justnow my garden is like faith--the substance of things hoped for. Butbide a wee."
"It always amazes me to look at the little, wrinkled brown seeds andthink of the rainbows in 'em," said Captain Jim. "When I ponder onthem seeds I don't find it nowise hard to believe that we've got soulsthat'll live in other worlds. You couldn't hardly believe there waslife in them tiny things, some no bigger than grains of dust, let alonecolor and scent, if you hadn't seen the miracle, could you?"
Anne, who was counting her days like silver beads on a rosary, couldnot now take the long walk to the lighthouse or up the Glen road. ButMiss Cornelia and Captain Jim came very often to the little house.Miss Cornelia was the joy of Anne's and Gilbert's existence. Theylaughed side-splittingly over her speeches after every visit. WhenCaptain Jim and she happened to visit the little house at the same timethere was much sport for the listening. They waged wordy warfare, sheattacking, he defending. Anne once reproached the Captain for hisbaiting of Miss Cornelia.
"Oh, I do love to set her going, Mistress Blythe," chuckled theunrepentant sinner. "It's the greatest amusement I have in life. Thattongue of hers would blister a stone. And you and that young dog of adoctor enj'y listening to her as much as I do."
Captain Jim came along another evening to bring Anne some mayflowers.The garden was full of the moist, scented air of a maritime springevening. There was a milk-white mist on the edge of the sea, with ayoung moon kissing it, and a silver gladness of stars over the Glen.The bell of the church across the harbor was ringing dreamily sweet.The mellow chime drifted through the dusk to mingle with the softspring-moan of the sea. Captain Jim's mayflowers added the lastcompleting touch to the charm of the night.
"I haven't seen any this spring, and I've missed them," said Anne,burying her face in them.
"They ain't to be found around Four Winds, only in the barrens awaybehind the Glen up yander. I took a little trip today to theLand-of-nothing-to-do, and hunted these up for you. I reckon they'rethe last you'll see this spring, for they're nearly done."
"How kind and thoughtful you are, Captain Jim. Nobody else--not evenGilbert"--with a shake of her head at him--"remembered that I alwayslong for mayflowers in spring."
"Well, I had another errand, too--I wanted to take Mr. Howard backyander a mess of trout. He likes one occasional, and it's all I can dofor a kindness he did me once. I stayed all the afternoon and talkedto him. He likes to talk to me, though he's a highly eddicated man andI'm only an ignorant old sailor, because he's one of the folks that'sGOT to talk or they're miserable, and he finds listeners scarce aroundhere. The Glen folks fight shy of him because they think he's aninfidel. He ain't that far gone exactly--few men is, I reckon--buthe's what you might call a heretic. Heretics are wicked, but they'remighty int'resting. It's jest that they've got sorter lost looking forGod, being under the impression that He's hard to find--which He ain'tnever. Most of 'em blunder to Him after awhile, I guess. I don'tthink listening to Mr. Howard's arguments is likely to do me much harm.Mind you, I believe what I was brought up to believe. It saves a vastof bother--and back of it all, God is good. The trouble with Mr.Howard is that he's a leetle TOO clever. He thinks that he's bound tolive up to his cleverness, and that it's smarter to thrash out some newway of getting to heaven than to go by the old track the common,ignorant folks is travelling. But he'll get there sometime all right,and then he'll laugh at himself."
"Mr. Howard was a Methodist to begin with," said Miss Cornelia, as ifshe thought he had not far to go from that to heresy.
"Do you know, Cornelia," said Captain Jim gravely, "I've often thoughtthat if I wasn't a Presbyterian I'd be a Methodist."
"Oh, well," conceded Miss Cornelia, "if you weren't a Presbyterian itwouldn't matter much what you were. Speaking of heresy, reminds me,doctor--I've brought back that book you lent me--that Natural Law inthe Spiritual World--I didn't read more'n a third of it. I can readsense, and I can read nonsense, but that book is neither the one northe other."
"It IS considered rather heretical in some quarters," admitted Gilbert,"but I told you that before you took it, Miss Cornelia."
"Oh, I wouldn't have minded its being heretical. I can standwickedness, but I can't stand foolishness," said Miss Cornelia calmly,and with the air of having said the last thing there was to say aboutNatural Law.
"Speaking of books, A Mad Love come to an end at last two weeks ago,"remarked Captain Jim musingly. "It run to one hundred and threechapters. When they got married the book stopped right off, so Ireckon their troubles were all over.
It's real nice that that's theway in books anyhow, isn't it, even if 'tistn't so anywhere else?"
"I never read novels," said Miss Cornelia. "Did you hear how GeordieRussell was today, Captain Jim?"
"Yes, I called in on my way home to see him. He's getting round allright--but stewing in a broth of trouble, as usual, poor man.
"'Course he brews up most of it for himself, but I reckon that don'tmake it any easier to bear."
"He's an awful pessimist," said Miss Cornelia.
"Well, no, he ain't a pessimist exactly, Cornelia. He only jest neverfinds anything that suits him."
"And isn't that a pessimist?"
"No, no. A pessimist is one who never expects to find anything to suithim. Geordie hain't got THAT far yet."
"You'd find something good to say of the devil himself, Jim Boyd."
"Well, you've heard the story of the old lady who said he waspersevering. But no, Cornelia, I've nothing good to say of the devil."
"Do you believe in him at all?" asked Miss Cornelia seriously.
"How can you ask that when you know what a good Presbyterian I am,Cornelia? How could a Presbyterian get along without a devil?"
"DO you?" persisted Miss Cornelia.
Captain Jim suddenly became grave.
"I believe in what I heard a minister once call 'a mighty and malignantand INTELLIGENT power of evil working in the universe,'" he saidsolemnly. "I do THAT, Cornelia. You can call it the devil, or the'principle of evil,' or the Old Scratch, or any name you like. It'sTHERE, and all the infidels and heretics in the world can't argue itaway, any more'n they can argue God away. It's there, and it'sworking. But, mind you, Cornelia, I believe it's going to get theworst of it in the long run."
"I am sure I hope so," said Miss Cornelia, none too hopefully. "Butspeaking of the devil, I am positive that Billy Booth is possessed byhim now. Have you heard of Billy's latest performance?"
"No, what was that?"
"He's gone and burned up his wife's new, brown broadcloth suit, thatshe paid twenty-five dollars for in Charlottetown, because he declaresthe men looked too admiring at her when she wore it to church the firsttime. Wasn't that like a man?"
"Mistress Booth IS mighty pretty, and brown's her color," said CaptainJim reflectively.
"Is that any good reason why he should poke her new suit into thekitchen stove? Billy Booth is a jealous fool, and he makes his wife'slife miserable. She's cried all the week about her suit. Oh, Anne, Iwish I could write like you, believe ME. Wouldn't I score some of themen round here!"
"Those Booths are all a mite queer," said Captain Jim. "Billy seemedthe sanest of the lot till he got married and then this queer jealousstreak cropped out in him. His brother Daniel, now, was always odd."
"Took tantrums every few days or so and wouldn't get out of bed," saidMiss Cornelia with a relish. "His wife would have to do all the barnwork till he got over his spell. When he died people wrote her lettersof condolence; if I'd written anything it would have been one ofcongratulation. Their father, old Abram Booth, was a disgusting oldsot. He was drunk at his wife's funeral, and kept reeling round andhiccuping 'I didn't dri--i--i--nk much but I feel a--a--awfullyque--e--e--r.' I gave him a good jab in the back with my umbrella whenhe came near me, and it sobered him up until they got the casket out ofthe house. Young Johnny Booth was to have been married yesterday, buthe couldn't be because he's gone and got the mumps. Wasn't that like aman?"
"How could he help getting the mumps, poor fellow?"
"I'd poor fellow him, believe ME, if I was Kate Sterns. I don't knowhow he could help getting the mumps, but I DO know the wedding supperwas all prepared and everything will be spoiled before he's well again.Such a waste! He should have had the mumps when he was a boy."
"Come, come, Cornelia, don't you think you're a mite unreasonable?"
Miss Cornelia disdained to reply and turned instead to Susan Baker, agrim-faced, kind-hearted elderly spinster of the Glen, who had beeninstalled as maid-of-all-work at the little house for some weeks.Susan had been up to the Glen to make a sick call, and had justreturned.
"How is poor old Aunt Mandy tonight?" asked Miss Cornelia.
Susan sighed.
"Very poorly--very poorly, Cornelia. I am afraid she will soon be inheaven, poor thing!"
"Oh, surely, it's not so bad as that!" exclaimed Miss Cornelia,sympathetically.
Captain Jim and Gilbert looked at each other. Then they suddenly roseand went out.
"There are times," said Captain Jim, between spasms, "when it would bea sin NOT to laugh. Them two excellent women!"
Anne's House of Dreams Page 18
