Timothy's Quest

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by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin


  SCENE IV.

  _Pleasant River._

  JABE SLOCUM ASSUMES THE ROLE OF GUARDIAN ANGEL.

  Jabe Slocum had been down to Edgewood, and was just returning to theWhite Farm, by way of the cross-roads and Hard Scrabble school-house. Hewas in no hurry, though he always had more work on hand than he couldleave undone for a month; and Maria also was taking her own time, asusual, even stopping now and then to crop an unusually sweet tuft ofgrass that grew within smelling distance, and which no mare (with adriver like Jabe) could afford to pass without notice.

  Jabe was ostensibly out on an "errant" for Miss Avilda Cummins; but, ashe had been in her service for six years, she had no expectations of hisaccomplishing anything beyond getting to a place and getting back in thesame day, the distance covered being no factor at all in the matter.

  But one needn't go to Miss Avilda Cummins for a description of JabeSlocum's peculiarities. They were all so written upon his face andfigure and speech that the wayfaring man, though a fool, could not errin his judgment. He was a long, loose, knock-kneed, slack-twistedperson, and would have been "longer yit if he hedn't hed so much turnedup for feet,"--so Aunt Hitty Tarbox said. (Aunt Hitty went from house tohouse in Edgewood and Pleasant River, making over boys' clothes; and asher tongue flew as fast as her needle, her sharp speeches were always incirculation in both villages.)

  Mr. Slocum had sandy hair, high cheekbones, a pair of kindly light blueeyes, and a most unique nose: I hardly know to what order ofarchitecture it belonged,--perhaps Old Colonial would describe it aswell as anything else. It was a wide, flat, well-ventilated, hospitableedifice (so to speak), so peculiarly constructed and applied thatSamantha Ann Ripley (of whom more anon) declared that "the reason JabeSlocum ketched cold so easy was that, if he didn't hold his head jessso, it kep' a-rainin' in!"

  His mouth was simply an enormous slit in his face, and served all thepurposes for which a mouth is presumably intended, save, perhaps, thetrivial one of decoration. In short (a ludicrously inappropriate wordfor the subject), it was a capital medium for exits and entrances, butno ornament to his countenance. When Rhapsena Crabb, now deceased, wasfirst engaged to Jabez Slocum, Aunt Hitty Tarbox said it beat her "howRhapseny ever got over Jabe's mouth; though she could 'a' got intew iteasy 'nough, or raound it, if she took plenty o' time." But perhapsRhapsena appreciated a mouth (in a husband) that never was given to"jawin'," and which uttered only kind words during her brief span ofmarried life. And there was precious little leisure for kissing atPleasant River!

  As Jabe had passed the store, a few minutes before, one of the boys hadcalled out, facetiously, "Shet yer mouth when ye go by the deepot,Laigs; the train's comin' in!" But he only smiled placidly, though itwas an ancient joke, the flavor of which had just fully penetrated therustic skull; and the villagers could not resist titillating the senseof humor with it once or twice a month. Neither did Jabez mind beingcalled "Laigs," the local pronunciation of the word "legs;" in fact,his good humor was too deep to be ruffled. His "cistern of wrathfulnesswas so small, and the supply pipe so unready," that it was next toimpossible to "put him out," so the natives said.

  He was a man of tolerable education; the only son of his parents, whohad endeavored to make great things of him, and might perhaps havesucceeded, if he hadn't always had so little time at hisdisposal,--hadn't been "so drove," as he expressed it. He went to thevillage school as regularly as he couldn't help, that is, as many daysas he couldn't contrive to stay away, until he was fourteen. From therehe was sent to the Academy, three miles distant; but his mother soonfound that he couldn't make the two trips a day and be "under cover bycandlelight;" so the plan of a classical education was abandoned, and hewas allowed to speed the home plough,--a profession which he pursuedwith such moderation that his father, when starting him down a furrow,used to hang his dinner-pail on his arm and, bidding him good-by, beghim, with tears in his eyes, to be back before sun-down.

  At the present moment Jabe was enjoying a cud of Old Virginia plugtobacco, and taking in no more of the landscape than he could avoid,when Maria, having wound up to the top of Marm Berry's hill, in spite ofherself walked directly out on one side of the road, and stopped shortto make room for the passage of an imposing procession, made up of onestraw phaeton, one baby, one strange boy, and one strange dog.

  Jabe eyed the party with some placid interest, for he loved children,but with no undue excitement. Shifting his huge quid, he inquired in hisusual leisurely manner, "Which way yer goin', bub,--t' the Swamp or t'the Falls?"

  Timothy thought neither sounded especially inviting, but, rapidlychoosing the lesser evil, replied, "To the Falls, sir."

  "Thy way happens to be my way, 's Rewth said to Naomi; so 'f gittin'over the road's your objeck, 'n' y' ain't pertickler 'baout the gait yetravel, ye can git in 'n' ride a piece. We don't b'lieve in hurryin',Mariar 'n' me. Slow 'n' easy goes fur in a day, 's our motto. Can ye gityour folks aboard withaout spillin' any of 'em?"

  No wonder he asked, for Gay was in such a wild state of excitement thatshe could hardly be held.

  "I can lift Gay up, if you'll please take her, sir," said Timothy; "andif you're quite sure the horse will stand still."

  "Bless your soul, she'll stan' all right; she likes stan'in' a heapbetter 'n she doos goin'; runnin' away ain't no temptation to MariaCummins; let well enough alone 's her motto. Jump in, sissy! There yebe! Now git yer baby-shay in the back of the wagon, bubby, 'n' we'll be's snug 's a bug in a rug."

  Timothy, whose creed was simple and whose beliefs were crystal clear,now felt that his morning prayer had been heard, and that the Lord wason his side; so he abandoned all idea of commanding the situation, andgave himself up to the full ecstasy of the ride, as they joggedpeacefully along the river road.

  Gay held a piece of a rein that peeped from Jabe's colossal hand (whichwas said by the villagers to cover most as much territory as the hand ofProvidence), and was convinced that she was driving Maria, an idea thatmade her speechless with joy.

  Rags' wildest dreams of squirrels came true; and, reconciled at lengthto cleanliness, he was capering in and out of the woods, thinking whatan Arabian Nights' entertainment he would give the Minerva Court dogswhen he returned, if return he ever must to that miserable, squirrellesshole.

  The meadows on the other side of the river were gorgeous with yellowbuttercups, and here and there a patch of blue iris or wild sage. Theblack cherry trees were masses of snowy bloom; the water at the river'sedge held spikes of blue arrowweed in its crystal shallows; while theroadside itself was gay with daisies and feathery grasses.

  In the midst of this loveliness flowed Pleasant River,

  "Vexed in all its seaward course by bridges, dams, and mills,"

  but finding time, during the busy summer months, to flush its fertilebanks with beauty.

  Suddenly (a word that could seldom be truthfully applied to thedescription of Jabe Slocum's movements) the reins were ruthlessly drawnfrom Lady Gay's hands and wound about the whipstock.

  "Gorry!" ejaculated Mr. Slocum, "ef I hain't left the widder Fosssettin' on Aunt Hitty's hoss-block, 'n' I promised to pick her up when Icome along back! That all comes o' my drivin' by the store so fast onaccount o' the boys hectorin' of me, so 't when I got to the turn I wasso kind of het up I jogged right along the straight road. Haste makeswaste 's an awful good motto. Pile out, young ones! It's only half amile from here to the Falls, 'n' you'll have to get there on Shank'smare!"

  So saying, he dumped the astonished children into the middle of theroad, from whence he had plucked them, turned the docile mare, and witha "Git, Mariar!" went four miles back to relieve Aunt Hitty'shorse-block from the weight of the widder Foss (which was no joke!).

  This turn of affairs was most unexpected, and Gay seemed on the point oftears; but Timothy gathered her a handful of wild flowers, wiped thedust from her face, put on the clean blue gingham apron, and establishedher in the basket, where she soon fell asleep, wearied by theexcitements of the day.

&nbs
p; Timothy's heart began to be a little troubled as he walked on and onthrough the leafy woods, trundling the basket behind him. Nothing hadgone wrong; indeed, everything had been much easier than he could havehoped. Perhaps it was the weariness that had crept into his legs, andthe hollowness that began to appear in his stomach; but, somehow,although in the morning he had expected to find Gay's new mothersbeckoning from every window, so that he could scarcely choose betweenthem, he now felt as if the whole race of mothers had suddenly becomeextinct.

  Soon the village came in sight, nestled in the laps of the green hillson both sides of the river. Timothy trudged bravely on, scanning all thedwellings, but finding none of them just the thing. At last he turneddeliberately off the main road, where the houses seemed too neartogether and too near the street, for his taste, and trundled his familydown a shady sort of avenue, over which the arching elms met and claspedhands.

  Rags had by this time lowered his tail to half-mast, and kept strictlyto the beaten path, notwithstanding manifold temptations to forsake it.He passed two cats without a single insulting remark, and his entiredemeanor was eloquent of nostalgia.

  "Oh, dear!" sighed Timothy disconsolately; "there's something wrong withall the places. Either there's no pigeon-house, like in all thepictures, or no flower garden, or no chickens, or no lady at the window,or else there's lots of baby-clothes hanging on the wash-lines. I don'tbelieve I shall ever find"--

  At this moment a large, comfortable white house, that had beenheretofore hidden by great trees, came into view. Timothy drew nearer tothe spotless picket fence, and gazed upon the beauties of the side yardand the front garden,--gazed and gazed, and fell desperately in love atfirst sight.

  The whole thing had been made as if to order; that is all there is tosay about it. There was an orchard, and, oh, ecstasy! what hosts ofgreen apples! There was an interesting grindstone under one tree, and abright blue chair and stool under another; a thicket of currant andgooseberry bushes; and a flock of young turkeys ambling awkwardlythrough the barn. Timothy stepped gently along in the thick grass, pasta pump and a mossy trough, till a side porch came into view, with awoman sitting there sewing bright-colored rags. A row of shining tinpans caught the sun's rays, and threw them back in a thousand glitteringprisms of light; the grasshoppers and crickets chirped sleepily in thewarm grass, and a score of tiny yellow butterflies hovered over a groupof odorous hollyhocks.

  Suddenly the person on the porch broke into this cheerful song, whichshe pitched in so high a key and gave with such emphasis that thecrickets and grasshoppers retired by mutual consent from any furthercompetition, and the butterflies suspended operations for severalseconds:--

  "I'll chase the antelope over the plain, The tiger's cob I'll bind with a chain, And the wild gazelle with the silv'ry feet I'll bring to thee for a playmate sweet."

  Timothy listened intently for some moments, but could not understand thewords, unless the lady happened to be in the menagerie business, whichhe thought unlikely, but delightful should it prove true.

  His eye then fell on a little marble slab under a tree in a shady cornerof the orchard.

  "That's a country doorplate," he thought; "yes, it's got the lady'sname, 'Martha Cummins,' printed on it. Now I'll know what to call her."

  He crept softly on to the front side of the house. There were flowerbeds, a lovable white cat snoozing on the doorsteps, and--a lady sittingat the open window knitting!

  At this vision Timothy's heart beat so hard against his little jacketthat he could only stagger back to the basket, where Rags and Lady Gaywere snuggled together, fast asleep. He anxiously scanned Gay's face;moistened his rag of a handkerchief at the only available source ofsupply; scrubbed an atrocious dirt spot from the tip of her spiritednose; and then, dragging the basket along the path leading to the frontgate, he opened it and went in, mounted the steps, plied the brassknocker, and waited in childlike faith for a summons to enter and makehimself at home.

 

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