AT this moment the outer door opened, and Timothy Crump entered, notwith the quick elastic step of one who brings good tidings, but slowlyand deliberately, with a quiet gravity of demeanor, in which his wifecould read only too well that he had failed in his efforts to procurework.
His wife, reading all these things in his manner, had the delicacy toforbear intruding upon him questions to which she saw that he could giveno satisfactory answers.
Not so Aunt Rachel.
"I needn't ask," she began, "whether you got work, Timothy. I knewbeforehand you wouldn't. There ain't no use in tryin'. The times isawful dull, and, mark my words, they'll be wuss before they're better.We mayn't live to see 'em. I don't expect we shall. Folks can't livewithout money, and when that's gone we shall have to starve."
"Not so bad as that, Rachel," said the cooper, trying to look cheerful;"don't talk about starving till the time comes. Anyhow," glancing atthe table on which was spread a good plain meal, "we needn't talk aboutstarving till to-morrow, with that before us. Where's Jack?"
"Gone after some flour," replied his wife.
"On credit?" asked the cooper.
"No, he's got the money to pay for a few pounds," said Mrs. Crump,smiling, with an air of mystery.
"Where did it come from?" asked Timothy, who was puzzled, as his wifeanticipated. "I didn't know you had any money in the house."
"No more we had, but he earned it himself, holding horses, thisafternoon."
"Come, that's good," said the cooper, cheerfully, "We ain't so bad offas we might be, you see, Rachel."
The latter shook her head with the air of a martyr.
At this moment Jack returned, and the family sat down to supper.
"You haven't told us," said Mrs. Crump, seeing her husband'scheerfulness in a measure restored, "what Mr. Blodgett said about thechances for employment."
"Not much that was encouraging," answered Timothy. "He isn't at all surehow soon it will be best to commence work; perhaps not before spring."
"Didn't I tell you so?" commented Rachel, with sepulchral sadness.
Even Mr. Crump could not help looking sober.
"I suppose, Timothy, you haven't formed any plans," she said.
"No, I haven't had time. I must try to get something else to do."
"What, for instance?"
"Anything by which I can earn a little, I don't care if it's only sawingwood. We shall have to get along as economically as we can; cut our coataccording to our cloth."
"Oh, you'll be able to earn something, and we can live _very_ plain,"said Mrs. Crump, affecting a cheerfulness greater than she felt.
"Pity you hadn't done it sooner," was the comforting suggestion ofRachel.
"Mustn't cry over spilt milk," said the cooper, good-humoredly. "Perhapswe might have lived a _leetle_ more economically, but I don't thinkwe've been extravagant."
"Besides, I can earn something, father," said Jack, hopefully. "You knowI did this afternoon."
"So you can," said Mrs. Crump, brightly.
"There ain't horses to hold every day," said Rachel, apparently fearingthat the family might become too cheerful, when, like herself, it wastheir duty to become profoundly gloomy.
"You're always trying' to discourage people," said Jack, discontentedly.
Rachel took instant umbrage at these words.
"I'm sure," said she; mournfully, "I don't want to make you unhappy. Ifyou can find anything to be cheerful about when you're on the verge ofstarvation, I hope you'll enjoy yourselves, and not mind me. I'm a poordependent creetur, and I feel to know I'm a burden."
"Now, Rachel, that's all foolishness," said Uncle Tim. "You don't feelanything of the kind."
"Perhaps others can tell how I feel, better than I can myself," answeredhis sister, knitting rapidly. "If it hadn't been for me, I know you'dhave been able to lay up money, and have something to carry you throughthe winter. It's hard to be a burden upon your relations, and bring abrother's family to poverty."
"Don't talk of being a burden, Rachel," said Mrs. Crump. "You've beena great help to me in many ways. That pair of stockings now you'reknitting for Jack--that's a help, for I couldn't have got time for themmyself."
"I don't expect," said Aunt Rachel, in the same sunny manner, "thatI shall be able to do it long. From the pains I have in my handssometimes, I expect I'm going to lose the use of 'em soon, and be asuseless as old Mrs. Sprague, who for the last ten years of her life hadto sit with her hands folded in her lap. But I wouldn't stay to be aburden. I'd go to the poor-house first, but perhaps," with the look ofa martyr, "they wouldn't want me there, because I should be discouragin''em too much."
Poor Jack, who had so unwittingly raised this storm, winced under thewords, which he knew were directed at him.
"Then why," said he, half in extenuation, "why don't you try to lookpleasant and cheerful? Why won't you be jolly, as Tom Piper's aunt is?"
"I dare say I ain't pleasant," said Aunt Rachel, "as my own nephew tellsme so. There is some folks that can be cheerful when their house is aburnin' down before their eyes, and I've heard of one young man thatlaughed at his aunt's funeral," directing a severe glance at Jack; "butI'm not one of that kind. I think, with the Scriptures, that there's atime to weep."
"Doesn't it say there's a time to laugh, also?" asked Mrs. Crump.
"When I see anything to laugh about, I'm ready to laugh," said AuntRachel; "but human nature ain't to be forced. I can't see anything tolaugh at now, and perhaps you won't by and by."
It was evidently of no use to attempt a confutation of this, and thesubject dropped.
The tea-things were cleared away by Mrs. Crump, who afterwards sat downto her sewing. Aunt Rachel continued to knit in grim silence, whileJack seated himself on a three-legged stool near his aunt, and beganto whittle out a boat after a model lent him by Tom Piper, a younggentleman whose aunt has already been referred to.
The cooper took out his spectacles, wiped them carefully with hishandkerchief, and as carefully adjusted them to his nose. He thentook down from the mantel-piece one of the few books belonging to hislibrary,--"Captain Cook's Travels,"--and began to read, for the tenthtime it might be, the record of the gallant sailor's circumnavigations.
The plain little room presented a picture of peaceful tranquillity, butit proved to be only the calm which precedes a storm.
The storm in question, I regret to say, was brought about by theluckless Jack. As has been said, he was engaged in constructing a boat,the particular operation he was now intent upon being the excavation orhollowing out. Now three-legged stools are not the most secure seatsin the world. That, I think, no one can doubt who has any practicalacquaintance with them. Jack was working quite vigorously, the blockfrom which the boat was to be fashioned being held firmly between hisknees. His knife having got wedged in the wood, he made an unusualeffort to draw it out, in which he lost his balance, and disturbed theequilibrium of his stool, which, with his load, tumbled over backwards.Now it very unfortunately happened that Aunt Rachel sat close behind,and the treacherous stool came down with considerable force upon herfoot.
A piercing shriek was heard, and Aunt Rachel, lifting her foot, clung toit convulsively, while an expression of pain distorted her features.
At the sound, the cooper hastily removed his spectacles, and letting"Captain Cook" fall to the floor, started up in great dismay--Mrs. Crumplikewise dropped her sewing, and jumped to her feet in alarm.
It did not take long to see how matters stood.
"Hurt ye much, Rachel?" inquired Timothy.
"It's about killed me," groaned the afflicted maiden. "Oh, I shall haveto have my foot cut off, or be a cripple anyway." Then turning uponJack, fiercely, "you careless, wicked, ungrateful boy, that I've beenwearin' myself out knittin' for. I'm almost sure you did it a purpose.You won't be satisfied till you've got me out of the world, andthen--then, perhaps----" here Rachel began to whimper, "perhaps you'llget Tom Piper's aunt to knit your stockings."
"I didn't
mean to, Aunt Rachel," said Jack, penitently, eyeing his aunt,who was rocking to and fro in her chair. "Besides, I hurt myself likethunder," rubbing vigorously the lower part of the dorsal-region.
"Served you right," said his aunt, still clasping her foot.
"Sha'n't I get something for you to put on it?" asked Mrs. Crump of(sic) her-sister-in-law.
This Rachel steadily refused, and after a few more postures, (sic)indicating a great amount of anguish, limped out of the room, andascended the stairs to her own apartment.
CHAPTER III. THE LANDLORD'S VISIT.
Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life Page 2
