CHAPTER II
FALLEN FORTUNES.
“A stern chase is a long chase;” so, leaving Captain Thompson inpursuit of the fugitive, we will take the liberty of passing throughhis premises to the main street. At the left of the church, oppositehis house, another road ran down a steep hill, crossed Rogue’s River,by a bridge, ran up another hill, and wound round into the Foxtownroad. At the top of the second hill stood a small brown house, by nomeans attractive in appearance, being destitute of paint, climbingvine, flowers, or other ornamentation. It had not even the virtue ofneatness to recommend it. The gate was off its hinges, and lay in theroad. A crazy barn close by had a pitch towards the river, as thoughfrom sheer weakness it was inclined to lie down for rest, while thescanty patch of cabbages and beets, the potato hills, few and farbetween, and the rickety bean-poles, all had a starved and neglectedappearance.
This was known as the “Sleeper Place,” being occupied by Mrs. Sleeperand the young people, Rebecca and Edward, better known as Becky andTeddy. Inside, the house was not much more attractive than the outside.On the lower floor were four rooms, separated by the entry, from whicha flight of stairs, hidden by a door, led to the garret above. On oneside was a kitchen, with a door leading into Mrs. Sleeper’s bed-roomat the back. On the other side was a sitting-room, with a door leadingto a bed-room back of that, known as Becky’s room. Teddy’s quarterswere above, under the roof. The house was scantily furnished withold-fashioned furniture and home-made carpets, all of which had seentheir best many years before, and now showed veteran scars of longservice.
In the kitchen were two females--Mrs. Sleeper and Hulda Prime. Mrs.Sleeper was a small, slender woman, with a face from which much beautyhad faded out, a face which bore but one expression at all times--thatof anxious expectation. All else had died out five years before. Thenshe was a bright, cheerful, active wife, merrily singing over herhousehold cares. Now she was waiting, for time to determine whether shewas a wife or a widow.
In ’49, when the California gold fever attacked so many New Englandtowns, Captain Cyrus Sleeper was returning from the West Indies witha cargo of sugar and molasses, in the new ship “Bounding Billow,”the joint property of himself and Captain Paul Thompson. Touchingat Havana, he was made acquainted with the startling news of golddiscoveries; and, always impetuous, at once turned the bow of his shiptowards California.
A year passed, and Captain Thompson also received startling news.His runaway partner had reached California, disposed of his cargo atfabulous prices, and sent the ship home in charge of his mate, and hadstarted for the mines. To his partner he remitted the whole amountreceived for his cargo,--enough to build two ships like the BoundingBillow,--one half of which, being his own, was to be held by hispartner for the support of his family until his return.
The captain was astounded. The conduct of his partner was so strange,he believed he must have lost his reason, and never expected to hearany intelligence of him again. Mrs. Sleeper also received a messagefrom her eccentric husband, full of glowing descriptions of quickfortunes made in El Dorado, hopes of speedy return, and bright picturesof the high life they would lead when “his ship came in.” Since thattime nothing had been heard of Captain Cyrus Sleeper or his fortunes.
The ship was fitted for a second voyage to the West Indies, Mrs.Sleeper, by Thompson’s advice, going shares with him in the venture.But it proved disastrous. The ship was wrecked on her return, and Mrs.Sleeper found herself obliged to live on a very small income. Of a veryromantic nature, her sailor husband always a hero in her eyes, fora little while she had high hopes of his quick return with an amplefortune, and chatted gaily of the good time coming “when her ship camein.” But as time passed, and no message came from over the sea, thesmile forsook her lips, the brightness her cheek, and the hope-light ofher eyes changed to an eager, searching glance, that told of an unquietmind and an aching, breaking heart.
She went about her household duties, cooked, scrubbed, and mended,quietly and silently, but took no pride in her home, no comfort in herchildren. The house soon showed evidences of neglect. The children,without a mother’s sympathy and guidance, were rapidly running to waste.
Just when the money began to give out, Hulda Prime “came to help.”Hulda was a distant relative of Cyrus Sleeper, by her own showing, asshe was a distant relative of almost everybody in Cleverly. She wassomewhere between forty and sixty: it was hard telling her age. Itcould not be told by her hair, for she had none; nor yet by her teeth,for they were false, or her cheeks, for they were always bright, andhad a natural color which some people were wicked enough to say was notnatural. She was long-favored, long and lean in body, had a very longface, long nose, and a long chin. She wore a “front,” with two auburnringlets dangling at either end, a very tall white cap, carried herselfvery erect, and had altogether a solemn and serious demeanor. She lefta “relative” to come and help “dear Delia in her troubles;” though inwhat her help consisted was a puzzle which the good people of Cleverlyhad never been able to solve. She got her living by “helping.” Shehad no money, but she had a large stock of complaints, so many, thatthey might have been calendared thus: Monday, rheumatism; Tuesday,cancer; Wednesday, dyspepsia; Thursday, heart disease; Friday, lumbago;Saturday, “spine;” Sunday, neuralgia. Or to vary the monotony, shewould start off Monday with “cancer,” or some other disease; but theweek would contain the whole programme. She was very regular in herhabits--of complaining, and was always taken bad just when she might beof assistance.
This day she was crouched by the fire, her head tied up in a towel, herbody slowly rocking to and fro. It was her neuralgia day.
Mrs. Sleeper stood at her wash-tub near the window, her hands busy inthe suds, her eyes fixed on the distant waters of the bay, her thoughtsaway with the ship that never came in. So absorbed was she in her“waiting” dream, that she did not see Captain Thompson, who for thelast ten minutes had been puffing up the hill in sight of the window;was not aware of his approach until he stood in the kitchen doorway,with both hands braced against the sides, breathing very hard.
“So, so! Pur--pur--purty capers those young ones of yours are cuttingup, Delia Sleeper!”
Mrs. Sleeper turned with a start; Aunt Hulda straightened up with agroan.
“Do you mean Rebecca and Edward, captain? Have they been making anytrouble?” said Mrs. Sleeper, with the faintest sign of interest in hervoice.
“Trouble, trouble!” shouted the captain, so loud that Aunt Hulda gave agroan, and held her head very hard; “did they ever make anything else?Ain’t they the pests of the town? Who or what is safe when they areabout? I tell you what it is, Delia, I’m a patient man, a very patientman. I’ve endured this sort of thing just as long as I mean to. I tellyou something’s got to be done.” And the captain looked very red, veryangry, and very determined.
“I’m sure I try to keep the children out of mischief,” faltered Mrs.Sleeper.
“No, you don’t. That’s just what’s the matter. You’ve no control overthem. You don’t want to control them. You just let them loose in thetown, like a couple of wildcats, seeking whom they may devour. What’sthe consequence? Look at Brown’s melon patch! He couldn’t find a soundmelon there. Look at my orchard! Despoiled by those barbarians! Here’sa sample. To-day I caught them at one of my trees, loaded with plunder;caught them in the act!”
“O, captain! you did not punish them!”
“Punish eels! No; they were too sharp for me. One ran off with myhorse, and a purty chase I’ve had for nothing. The other marched awaywith my fruit. But I will punish them; be sure of that. Now, Delia,this thing must be stopped; it shall be stopped. I’m a man of my word,and when I say a thing’s to be done, it is done.”
“I’m sure I’m willing to do anything I can to keep them orderly,” beganMrs. Sleeper.
“Now what’s the use of your talking so? You know you’re not willing todo anything of the kind. You’re all bound up in your sorrows. You won’tthink of the matter again when I’m gon
e--you know you won’t. If youcared for their bringing up, you’d have that boy at school, instead ofletting him fatten on other folks’s property, and bring that girl up towork, instead of lettin’ her go galloping all over creation on otherfolks’s horses. I tell you, Delia Sleeper, you don’t know how to bringup young ones!”
The captain, in his warmth, braced himself against the door sills soenergetically that they cracked, and a catastrophe, something likethat which occurred when Samson played with the pillars of the temple,seemed imminent.
“P’raps she’d better turn ’em over to you, Cap’n Thompson,” growledAunt Hulda; “you’re such a grand hand at bringin’ up!”
“Hulda Prime, you jest attend to your own affairs. This is none of yourbusiness; so shet up!” shouted the more plain than polite captain.
“Shut up!” retorted Aunt Hulda. “Wal, I never! Ain’t you gettin’ aleetle _obstroperlous_, cap’n? This here’s a free country, and nobody’sto hinder anybody’s freein’ their mind to anybody, even if they area little up in the world. Shut up, indeed!” And Aunt Hulda, in herindignation, rose from her chair, walked round it, and plumped downagain in her old position.
“I don’t want any of your interference, Hulda Prime.”
“I know you don’t. But it’s enough to make a horse laugh to see youcomin’ here tellin’ about bringin’ up young uns! Brought up your Harrywell--didn’t yer?”
“Hush, Aunt Hulda; don’t bring up that matter now,” said Mrs. Sleeper.
“Why not?” said Aunt Hulda, whose neuralgia was working her temper upto a high pitch. “When folks come to other folks’s houses to tell ’emhow to train up their children, it’s high time they looked to home.”
“I brought up my son to obey his father in everything, and there wasn’ta better boy in the town.”
“I want to know! He was dreadful nice when you had him under yourthumb, for you was so strict with him he darsn’t say his soul was hisown; but he made up for it when he got loose. Sech capers! He made atom-boy of our Becky, and was jest as full of mischief as he couldstick.”
“No matter about my son, Hulda Prime; he’s out of the way now.”
“Yes; cos you wanted to put him to a trade after he’d been throughthe academy. He didn’t like that, and started off to get a collegeeducation, and you shut the door agin him, and you locked up yourmoney, and vowed he should starve afore you’d help him. But they do sayhe’s been through Harvard College in spite of yer.”
“Hulda Prime, you’re a meddlin’ old woman,” roared the captain,thoroughly enraged, “and it’s a pity somebody didn’t start you offyears ago--hangin’ round where you ain’t wanted.”
“I never hung round your house much--did I, cap’n?” cried Aunt Hulda,with a triumphant grin, which evidently started the neuralgic pains,for she sank back with a groan.
While this passage of tongues was going on inside the house, Miss Beckyappeared in the road, mounted on Uncle Ned, who looked rather jaded,as though he had been put to a hard gallop. Flinging herself from hisback she entered the door, when the form of Captain Thompson, braced inthe kitchen door-way,--which position he had not forsaken even in theheight of debate,--met her eyes. Her first thought was to regain thesafe companionship of Uncle Ned; but a desire to know what was going onovercame her sense of danger, and she gently lifted the latch of thedoor which opened to the garret stairs, and stepped inside. The warlikeparties in the kitchen covered her retreat with the clamor of theirtongues.
“Now, Delia, I want you to listen to reason,” continued the captain,turning from the vanquished spinster to the silent woman, who had keptbusily at work during the combat. “You’re too easy with them children.They want a strong hand to keep them in line. Now you know I’m a goodfriend to you and yours; and though Cyrus Sleeper treated me rathershabbily--”
“My gracious! hear that man talk!” blurted out Aunt Hulda. “It’s nosuch thing, and you know it. You made more money out of his Californyspeculation with that air ship than you ever made afore in your life.”
“Will you be quiet, woman?” roared the captain. “I ain’t talkin’ toyou, and don’t want any of your meddlin’.”
“Aunt Hulda, don’t interrupt, please,” said Mrs. Sleeper; “let’s hearwhat the captain has to say.”
“Then let him talk sense. The idea of Cyrus Sleeper’s ever treatinganybody shabby! It’s ridikerlous!” growled Aunt Hulda, as she returnedto her neuralgic nursing.
“The young ones want a strict hand over ’em,” continued the captain,when quiet was restored again. “I’m willing to take part charge ofthem, if you’ll let me. They must be sent to school.”
“I can’t afford it, captain. I couldn’t send ’em last year. You knowthe money’s most gone,” said Mrs. Sleeper.
“I know its all gone, Delia. What you’ve been drawing the last year isfrom my own pocket. But no matter for that. Drinkwater opens the schoolMonday. I’ll send the children there, and pay the bills. It’s timesomething was done for their education; and I’ll be a father to them,as they’re not likely to have another very soon.”
“Don’t say that, don’t say that! Cyrus will come back--I know he will.”
“If he’s alive. But don’t be too hopeful. There’s been a heap ofmortality among the miners; and if he’s alive, we should have heardfrom him afore this. Chances are agin him. So you’d better be resigned.Yes, you’d better give him up, put on mourning for a year, and thenlook round, for the money’s gone.”
“Give up my husband!” cried Mrs. Sleeper, with energy. “No, no. Hewill come back; I feel, I know he will. He would never desert me; andif he died,--O, Heaven, no, no!--if he died, he would find some way tosend his last words to me. No, no, don’t say give him up. I cannot, Icannot!” and the poor woman burst into tears.
“Wal, I never!” cried Aunt Hulda. “Look round, indeed! Why, it’sbigamy, rank bigamy!”
“Well, well,” said the captain, quickly, anxious to avoid anotherbattle, “do as you please about that; but let’s give the children agood bringing up. They’ve got to earn their own living, and the soonerthey get a little learning the better.”
“The children should go to school, captain, I know,” said Mrs. Sleeper;“but I’m afraid they will not take kindly to the change.”
“I’ll make ’em, then. It’s time they were broke, and I flatter myselfI’m able to bring ’em under control. But make no interference with myplans. Once begun, they must stick to school. It’s for their good, youknow.”
“Very well, captain; I consent; only be easy with them at first.”
“O, I’ll be easy enough, never fear, if they mind me; if not, they musttake the consequences. So, next Monday fix ’em up, and I’ll take ’emover, and talk to Drinkwater.”
“I’ll have them all ready, captain, and thank you for the troubleyou’re taking,” said Mrs. Sleeper.
“Now, mind! no interference from you or Hulda. If there is--”
“Don’t fret yourself about me, cap’n. Mercy knows I’ve trouble enoughof my own. I declare, there’s that lumbago comin’ on agin,” groanedAunt Hulda.
The captain seemed highly delighted at the prospect of a change in thecondition of his enemy, and, with a triumphant smile, backed into theentry.
“Hallo! there’s my horse, reeking with sweat. Where is that imp ofmischief?” thundered the exasperated captain. “If I catch her--”
“Here I am, cap’n. Clear the coast! Ha, ha, ha! Hooray!”
The voice came from the garret. There was a thundering racket on thestairs, a crash against the door, which flew open, and Becky, seatedin an old cradle without rockers, burst into the entry. Tired oflistening, she had searched the garret for sport, had dragged this oldemblem of infancy from its hiding-place to the head of the stairs,seated herself in it, and, regardless of consequences, started for aslide.
It was a reckless act. As the door flew open, the cradle struck thecaptain’s shins, throwing him backwards, and pitching Becky out of thefront door on to th
e grass. The captain scrambled to his feet, furiouswith pain and choler. Becky regained hers quickly and started for thebarn, the captain in hot pursuit. Another stern chase. The captain soondesisted, mounted his horse, and rode away, while Miss Becky perchedherself on the rickety fence, and saluted the captain’s ears, as herode down the hill, with the refrain of the well-known song, “O, dear,what can the matter be?”
Running to Waste: The Story of a Tomboy Page 2
