Timothy's Quest

by Kate Douglas Smith Wiggin

  SCENE XIII.

  _The Village._

  PLEASANT RIVER IS BAPTIZED WITH THE SPIRIT OF ADOPTION.

  "But I didn't come in to talk 'bout the fun'ral," continued Aunt Hitty,wishing that human flesh were transparent so that she could see throughSamanthy Ann Ripley's back. "I had an errant 'n' oughter ben in afore,but I've ben so busy these last few days I couldn't find rest for thesole o' my foot skersely. I've sewed in seven dif'rent houses sence Iwas here last, and I've made it my biz'ness to try 'n' stop the gossip'bout them children 'n' give folks the rights o' the matter, 'n' git 'eminterested to do somethin' for 'em. Now there ain't a livin' soul thatwants the boy, but"--

  "Timothy," said Miss Vilda hurriedly, "run and fetch me a passle ofchips, that's a good boy. Land sakes! Aunt Hitty, you needn't tell himto his face that nobody wants him. He's got feelin's like any otherchild."

  "He set there so quiet with a book in front of him I clean forgot he wasin the room," said Aunt Hitty apologetically. "Land! I'm sotender-hearted I can't set my foot on a June bug 'n' 't aint' likely I'dhurt anybody's feelin's, but as I was sayin' I can't find nobody thatwants the boy, but the Doctor's wife thinks p'raps she'll be willin' totake the baby 'n' board her for nothing if somebody else 'll pay for herclothes. At least she'll try her a spell 'n' see how she behaves, 'n'whether she's good comp'ny for her own little girl that's a reg'lar limbo' Satan anyway, 'n' consid'able worse sence she's had the scarlitfever, 'n' deef as a post too, tho' they're blisterin' her, 'n' she maygit over it. I told her I'd bring Gay over to-night as I was comin' by,bein' as how she was worn out with sickness 'n' house-cleanin' 'n' onething 'n' nother, 'n' couldn't come to git her very well herself. Ithought mebbe you'd be willin' to pay for her clothes ruther 'n hev somuch talk 'bout it, tho' I've told everybody that they walked right into the front gate, 'n' you 'n' Samanthy never set eyes on 'em before,'n' didn't know where they come from."

  Samantha wiped her eyes surreptitiously with the dishcloth and turned ascarlet face away from the window. Timothy was getting his "passle o'chips." Gay had spied him, and toddling over to his side, holding herdress above the prettiest little pair of feet that ever trod clover, hadsat down on him (a favorite pastime of hers), and after jolting her fatlittle person up and down on his patient head, rolled herself over andgave him a series of bear-hugs. Timothy looked pale and languid,Samantha thought, and though Gay waited for a frolic with her mostadorable smile, he only lifted her coral necklace to kiss the placewhere it hung, and tied on her sun-bonnet soberly. Samantha wished thatVilda had been looking out of the window. Her own heart didn't needsoftening, but somebody else's did, she was afraid.

  "I'm much obliged to you for takin' so much interest in the children,"said Miss Vilda primly, "and partic'lerly for clearin' our characters,which everybody that lives in this village has to do for each other'bout once a week, and the rest o' the time they take for spoilin' of'em. And the Doctor's wife is very kind, but I shouldn't think o'sendin' the baby away so sudden while the boy is still here. Itwouldn't be no kindness to Mis' Mayo, for she'd have a regular Frenchand Indian war right on her premises. It was here the children came,just as you say, and it's our duty to see 'em settled in good homes, butI shall take a few days more to think 'bout it, and I'll let her know bySaturday night what we've decided to do.--That's the most meddlesome,inteferin', gossipin' woman in this county," she added, as Mrs. SilasTarbox closed the front gate, "and I wouldn't have her do another day'swork at this house if I didn't have to. But it's worse for them thatdon't have her than for them that does.--Now there's the Baptistminister drivin' up to the barn. What under the canopy does he want?Tell him Jabe ain't to home, Samanthy. No, you needn't, for he'shitched, and seems to be comin' to the front door."

  "I never could abide the looks of him," said Samantha, peering over MissVilda's shoulder. "No man with a light chiny blue eye like that oughterbe allowed to go int' the ministry; for you can't love your brother whomyou hev seen with that kind of an eye, and how are you goin' to love theLord whom you hev not seen?"

  Mr. Southwick, who was a spare little man in a long linen duster thatlooked as if it had not been in the water as often as its wearer, satdown timidly on the settle and cleared his throat.

  "I've come to talk with you on a little matter of business, MissCummins. Brother Slocum has--a--conferred with me on the subject ofa--a--couple of unfortunate children who have--a--strayed, as it were,under your hospitable roof, and whom--a--you are properly anxious toplace--a--under other rooves, as it were. Now you are aware, perhaps,that Mrs. Southwick and I have no children living, though we have attimes had our quivers full of them--a--as the Scripture says; but theLord gave and the Lord hath taken away. Blessed be the name of the Lord,however, that is--a--neither here nor there. Brother Slocum has sointerested us that my wife (who is leading the Woman's Auxiliary PrayingLegion this afternoon or she would have come herself) wishes me to saythat she would like to receive one of these--a--little waifs into ourfamily on probation, as it were, and if satisfactory to both parties, tobring it up--a--somewhat as our own, in the nurture and admonition ofthe Lord."

  Samantha waited, in breathless suspense. Miss Vilda never would flingaway an opportunity of putting a nameless, homeless child under the roofof a minister of the Gospel, even if he was a Baptist, with a chiny blueeye.

  At this exciting juncture there was a clatter of small feet; the doorburst open, and the "unfortunate waifs" under consideration raced acrossthe floor to the table where Miss Vilda and Samantha were seated. Gay'ssun-bonnet trailed behind her, every hair on her head curled separately,and she held her rag-doll upside down with entire absence of decorum.Timothy's paleness, whatever the cause, had disappeared for the moment,and his eyes shone like stars.

  "Oh, Miss Vilda!" he cried breathlessly; "dear Miss Vilda and Samanthy,the gray hen did want to have chickens, and that is what made her socross, and she is setting, and we've found her nest in the alder bushesby the pond!"

  ("G'ay hen's net in er buttes by er pond," sung Gay, like a Greekchorus.)

  "And we sat down softly beside the pond, but Gay sat into it."

  ("Gay sat wite into it, an' dolly dot her dess wet, but Gay nite ittledirl; Gay didn't det wet!")

  "And by and by the gray hen got off to get a drink of water"--

  ("To det a dink o' water"--)

  "And we counted the eggs, and there were thirteen big ones!"

  ("Fir-teen drate bid ones!")

  "So that the darling thing had to s-w-ell out to cover them up!"

  ("Darlin' fin ser-welled out an' tuvvered 'em up!") said Gay, goingthrough the same operation.

  "Yes," said Miss Vilda, looking covertly at Mr. Southwick (who had aneye for beauty, notwithstanding Samantha's strictures), "that's verynice, but you mustn't stay here now; we are talkin' to the minister. Runaway, both of you, and let the settin' hen alone.--Well, as I was goin'to say, Mr. Southwick, you're very kind and so 's your wife, and I'msure Timothy, that's the boy's name, would be a great help and comfortto both of you, if you're fond of children, and we should be glad tohave him near by, for we feel kind of responsible for him, though he'sno relation of ours. And we'll think about the matter over night, andlet you know in the morning."

  "Yes, exactly, I see, I see; but it was the young child, the--a--femalechild, that my wife desired to take into her family. She does not carefor boys, and she is particularly fond of girls, and so am I, very fondof girls--a--in reason."

  Miss Vilda all at once made up her mind on one point, and only wishedthat Samantha wouldn't stare at her as if she had never seen her before."I'm sorry to disappoint your wife, Mr. Southwick. It seems that Mrs.Tarbox and Jabez Slocum have been offerin' the child to every family inthe village, and I s'pose bime bye they'll have the politeness to offerher to me; but, at any rate, whether they do or not, I propose to keepher myself, and I'd thank you to tell folks so, if they ask you. Mebbeyou'd better give it out from the pulpit, though I can let Mis' Tarboxknow, and that will answer the same purpose. This
is the place the babywas brought, and this is the place she's goin' to stay."

  "Vildy, you're a good woman!" cried Samantha, when the door closed onthe Reverend Mr. Southwick. "I'm proud o' you, Vildy, 'n' I take backall the hard thoughts I've ben hevin' about you lately. The idee o'that chiny-eyed preacher thinkin' he was goin' to carry that child homein his buggy with hardly so much as sayin' 'Thank you, marm!' I like hisBaptist imperdence! His wife hed better wash his duster afore she adoptsany children. If they'd carry their theories 'bout immersion 's fur astheir close, 't wouldn't be no harm."

  "I don' know as I'd have agreed to keep either of 'em ef the wholevillage hadn't intefered and wanted to manage my business for me, and beso dretful charitable all of a sudden, and dictate to me and try to showme my duty. I haven't had a minute's peace for more 'n a fortnight, andnow I hope they'll let me alone. I'll take the boy to the cityto-morrow, if I live to see the light, and when I come back I'll tie upthe gate and keep the neighbors out till this nine days' wonder getscrowded out o' their heads by somethin' new."

  "You're goin' to take Timothy to the city, are you?" asked Samanthasharply.

  "That's what I'm goin' to do; and the sooner the better for everybodyconcerned. Timothy, shut that door and run out to the barn, and don'tyou let me see you again till supper-time; do you hear me?"

  "And you're goin' to put him in one o' them Homes?"

  "Yes, I am. You see for yourself we can't find any place fer himhereabouts."

  "Well, I've ben waitin' for days to see what you was goin' to do, andnow I'll tell you what I'm goin' to do, if you'd like to know. I'm goin'to keep Timothy myself; to have and to hold from this time forth and forevermore, as the Bible says. That's what I'm goin' to do!"

  Miss Cummins gasped with astonishment.

  "I mean what I say, Vildy. I ain't so well off as some, but I ain't apauper, not by no means. I've ben layin' by a little every year fortwenty years, 'n' you know well enough what for; but that's all over forever and ever, amen, thanks be! And I ain't got chick nor child, norblood relation in the world, and if I choose to take somebody to do for,why, it's nobody's affairs but my own."

  "You can't do it, and you sha'n't do it!" said Miss Vilda excitedly."You ain't goin' to make a fool of yourself, if I can help it. We can'thave two children clutterin' up this place and eatin' us out of houseand home, and that's the end of it."

  "It ain't the end of it, Vildy Cummins, not by no manner o' means! If wecan't keep both of 'em, do you know what I think 'bout it? I think we'dought to give away the one that everybody wants and keep the other thatnobody does want, more fools they! That's religion, accordin' to my wayo' thinkin'. I love the baby, dear knows; but see here. Who planned thisthing all out? Timothy. Who took that baby up in his own arms andfetched her out o' that den o' thieves? Timothy. Who stood all the reskof gittin' that innocent lamb out o' that sink of iniquity, and hed witenough to bring her to a place where she could grow up respectable?Timothy. And do you ketch him say in' a word 'bout himself from fust tolast? Not by no manner o' means. That ain't Timothy. And what doos thelovin' gen'rous, faithful little soul git? He gits his labor for hispains. He hears folks say right to his face that nobody wants him andeverybody wants Gay. And if he didn't have a disposition like acherubim-an-seraphim (and better, too, for they 'continually do cry,'now I come to think of it), he'd be sour and bitter, 'stid o' bein' goodas an angel in a picture-book from sun-up to sun-down!"

  Miss Vilda was crushed by the overpowering weight of this argument, anddid not even try to stem the resistless tide of Samantha's eloquence.

  "And now folks is all of a high to take in the baby for a spell, jestfor a plaything, because her hair curls, 'n' she's handsome, 'n' lightcomplected, 'n' cunning, 'n' a girl (whatever that amounts to is more 'nI know!), and that blessed boy is tread under foot as if he warn't nobetter 'n an angleworm! And do you mean to tell me you don't see theLord's hand in this hull bus'ness, Vildy Cummins? There's other kinds o'meracles besides buddin' rods 'n' burnin' bushes 'n' loaves 'n' fishes.What do you s'pose guided that boy to pass all the other houses in thisvillage 'n' turn in at the White Farm? Don't you s'pose he was led?Well, I don't need a Bible nor yit a concordance to tell _me_ he was._He_ didn't know there was plenty 'n' to spare inside this gate; agreat, empty house 'n' full cellar, 'n' hay 'n' stock in the barn, andcowpons in the bank, 'n' two lone, mis'able women inside, with nothin'to do but keep flies out in summer-time, 'n' pile wood on inwinter-time, till they got so withered up 'n' gnarly they warn't hardlywuth getherin' int' the everlastin' harvest! _He_ didn't know it, I say,but the Lord did; 'n' the Lord's intention was to give us a chance tomake our callin' 'n' election sure, 'n' we can't do that by turnin' ourbacks on His messenger, and puttin' of him ou'doors! The Lord intendedthem children should stay together or He wouldn't 'a' started 'em outthat way; now that's as plain as the nose on my face, 'n' that'sconsid'able plain as I've ben told afore now, 'n' can see for myself inthe glass without any help from anybody, thanks be!"

  "Everybody 'll laugh at us for a couple o' soft-hearted fools," saidMiss Vilda feebly, after a long pause. "We'll be a spectacle for thewhole village."

  "What if we be? Let's be a spectacle, then!" said Samantha stoutly."We'll be a spectacle for the angels as well as the village, when youcome to that! When they look down 'n' see us gittin' outside thisdooryard 'n' doin' one o' the Lord's chores for the first time in ten orfifteen years, I guess they'll be consid'able excited! But there's nouse in talkin', I've made up my mind, Vildy. We've lived together forthirty years 'n' ain't hardly hed an ugly word ('n' dretful dull it hezben for both of us!), 'n' I sha'n't live nowheres else without you tellme to go; but I've got lots o' good work in me yit, 'n' I'm goin' totake that boy up 'n' give him a chance, 'n' let him stay alongside o'the thing he loves best in the world. And if there ain't room for all ofus in the fourteen rooms o' this part o' the house, Timothy 'n' I canlive in the L, as you've allers intended I should if I got married. AndI guess this is 'bout as near to gittin' married as either of us ever'll git now, 'n' consid'able nearer 'n I've expected to git, lately. AndI'll tell Timothy this very night, when he goes to bed, for he'sgrievin' himself into a fit o' sickness, as anybody can tell that's gota glass eye in their heads!"