The Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe; Or, There's No Place Like Home

by Amanda M. Douglas

  CHAPTER XXI.

  HOW THE DREAMS CAME TRUE.

  Charlie insisted upon Mr. Darol remaining to supper; and he was nothingloth.

  "Dear me!" exclaimed Dot, "we shall have to echo the crow's suggestivequery,--

  'The old one said unto his mate, "What shall we do for food to _ate_?"'"

  "Make some biscuit or a Johnny-cake," said Charlie, fertile inexpedients. "Dot, I've just discovered the bent of your budding mind."

  "What?" asked the child, tying on a large apron.

  "Keeping a hotel. Why, it's been elegant for almost a week!--a perfectcrowd, and not a silver fork or a goblet, or a bit of china; rag-carpeton the floor, and a bed in the best room. Nothing but happiness insideand out! Even the ravens haven't cried. You see, it isn't money, but acontented mind, a kitchen apron, a saucepan, and a genius for cooking."

  "But you must have something to cook," was Dot's sage comment.

  "True, my dear. Words of priceless wisdom fall from your younglips,--diamonds and pearls actually! Now, if you will tell me what toput in a cake"--

  "A pinch of this, and a pinch of that," laughed Dot. "I am afraid totrust your unskilful hands; so you may wait upon me. Open the draught,and stir the fire: then you may bring me the soda and the sour milk,and beat the eggs--oh, there in the basket!"

  "Dot, my small darling, spare me! I am in a hopeless confusion.Your brain must be full of shelves and boxes where every article islabelled. One thing at a time."

  "The fire first, then."

  Dot sifted her flour, and went to work. Charlie sang a droll littlesong for her, and then set the table. Their supper was a decidedsuccess. Edmund came in, and was delighted to see his uncle. There washero Joe, gay as a sky-full of larks. It didn't seem as if any of themhad ever known trouble or sorrow. Even Granny gave her old chirrupinglaugh.

  The next day they had some serious talks. Hal and Mr. Darol slippedinto a pleasant confidence.

  "I've been thinking over your affairs with a good deal of interest,"he said. "It seems to me that you need a larger field for profitableoperations. I should not think Madison quite the place for a brilliantsuccess. You need to be in the vicinity of a large city. And, sincethree of the others will be in New York principally, it certainlywould be better for you. Would your grandmother object to moving?"

  "I don't know," Hal answered thoughtfully.

  "Floriculture is becoming an excellent business. Since you have such adecided taste for it, you can hardly fail. I should recommend Brooklyn,Jersey City, or Harlem. Besides the flowers, there is a great demandfor bedding-plants. You haven't any other fancy?" and he studied Hal'sface intently.

  Hal's lip quivered a moment. "It was my first dream, and I guess thebest thing that I can do. I could not endure hard study, or any thinglike that. Yes, I have decided it."

  "I wish you would make me a visit very soon, and we could look around,and consider what step would be best. You must forgive me for taking afatherly interest in you all. I love young people so much!"

  Hal's eyes sparkled with delight. He did not wonder that Charlie hadtold her story so fearlessly to him.

  "You are most kind. I don't know how to thank you."

  "You can do that when you are successful;" and he laughed cordially.

  They had all taken Flossy's husband into favor, and their regard wasfully returned by him. Indeed, they appeared to him a most marvellouslittle flock. As for Florence, the awe and strangeness with which shehad first impressed them was fast wearing off. As her better soulcame to light, she seemed to grow nearer to them, as if the years ofabsence were being bridged over. Fastidious she would always be in somerespects, but never weakly foolish again. She had come to understanda few of the nobler truths of life, learned through suffering,--thatthere was a higher enjoyment than that of the senses, or the mereoutward uses of beauty.

  They all appreciated the manner in which she made herself at home. Theygave her the best they had, to be sure; and she never pained them byany thoughtless allusion to her luxuries. She had not lost her old artwith the needle, and Dot's dresses were renovated in such a manner thatshe hardly knew them.

  Granny would never allow her to regret her going with Mrs. Osgood.

  "It was all right," she would say cheerfully. "The good Lord knew whatwas best. I don't mind any of it now,--the losses and crosses, thesorrows and sicknesses, and all the hard work. Your poor father wouldbe glad if he could see you, and I've kept my promise to him. So don'tcry, dearie. If you hadn't gone away, I shouldn't 'a' known how sweetit was to have you come back."

  Florence and Mr. Darol made their preparations to return. They decidedto take Charlie back with them, and install her in her new home; thoughCharlie did not exactly like the prospect of having her visit abridged.

  "I meant to stay all this week," she said decisively. "I cannot haveanother vacation until next summer."

  "But you will go back with me to my sad house, and help me to forgetmy baby's dead face," Florence returned beseechingly. "O Charlie! I domean to be a true and fond sister to you if you will let me."

  So Charlie consented; though she would much rather have staid, and hada "good time" with Dot and Hal.

  "If Florence was not here, I should like to perch myself on achair-back, and whistle 'Hail Columbia' to all the world. Dear oldshoe! What sights of fun we have had in it! I am rather sorry that I'llsoon be a woman. Oh, dear! You always _do_ have some trouble, don'tyou?"

  "Charlie, Charlie!" and Dot shook her small forefinger.

  Joe was going too. "But I shall be back in a few days," he said toGranny.

  "O Joe! if you wouldn't go to sea any more,--and when you've beena'most drowned"--

  "O Granny! best mother in the world, do not feel troubled about me. Weare a family of geniuses, and I am the duckling that can't stay broodedunder mother-wings. It's my one love, and I should be a miserable fishif you kept me on dry land. I have been offered a nice position to goto Charleston; and as I am not rich, and have not the gout, I can'tafford to retire on a crust. But you'll see me every little while; andyou'll be proud enough of me when I get to be a captain."

  Granny felt that she could not be any prouder of him if he was a king.

  There was a great thinning-out again. Kit bemoaned the lonesomeness ofthe place; but Dot's housewifely soul was comforted with the hope of agood clearing-up time.

  In two days Joe returned.

  "Florence is as elegant as a queen," he reported; "not the grandest orrichest, but every thing in lovely style. Charlie went wild over thepictures. And there are great mirrors, and marble statues, and carpetsas soft as spring-hillsides. You never imagined, Granny, that one of uswould attain to such magnificence, did you?"

  Granny listened in wide-eyed wonder, and bobbed her little curls.

  "And Darol's a splendid fellow! Flossy always did have the luck!"

  That night Hal and Joe slept in the old room, which Joe declared seemedgood.

  "We had a long talk about you, Hal. Mr. Paul Darol is wonderfullyinterested in you. He is just as good and generous as he can be, andhas two beautiful rooms at a hotel. You know, in the old dream, it wasFlossy who was to meet with a benevolent old gentleman: instead, ithas been Charlie, the queer little midget. What a youngster she hasbeen!"

  "She is as good as gold."

  "Mr. Darol thinks her the eighth wonder of the world. But he wants youto have the green-house; and I said I intended to help you to it. Whenhe found that we did not mean to take any thing as a gift, he offeredto loan the whole amount, to be paid as you were prospered."

  "How very, very generous!" said Hal with a long breath.

  "It _was_ most kind; but you cannot do much here. I believe I like theBrooklyn project best."

  "I wonder if Granny would consent to leave Madison?"

  "I think she will. You see, I can spend a good deal of time with youthen."

  Joe was to start again the middle of January. Granny fretted at first;but dear, merry Joe finally persuaded her that i
t was the best thing inthe world.

  Hal could not help shedding a few quiet tears, but then they had aglowing letter from Charlie. She and Florence had actually been to callon Mrs. Wilcox in their own carriage. They had taken her and Mary Janea pretty gift; and Mrs. Wilcox was, to use her own expression, "clearbeat." And Charlie declared that she was living like a princess. Shecould come home, and spend almost any Sunday with them.

  While Hal was considering how best to inform Granny of the new project,circumstances opened the way. In the march of improvement at Madison,an old lane was to be widened, and straightened into a respectablestreet; and one end of it would run through the old Kenneth cottage.

  Poor old Shoe! Its days were numbered. But there were no morerollicking children to tumble in and out of windows, or transformthe dusty garret into a bedlamic palace. And yet Granny could not beconsoled, or even persuaded.

  "I never could take root anywhere else, Hal, dear," she said, shakingher head sadly.

  "But the old house has been patched and patched; it leaks everywhere;and a good, strong gust of wind might blow it over. We should not wantto be in the ruins, I'm sure. Then, Granny, think of being so near allthe children!"

  Granny was very grave for several days; but one evening she said with atremor in her voice,--

  "Hal dear, I am a poor old body, and I shall never be worth any thingagain. I don't know as it makes much difference, after all, if you willonly promise to bring me back, and lay me alongside of my dear Joe."

  Hal promised with a tender kiss.

  Dr. Meade used to bundle Granny up in shawls, and take her out in hisold-fashioned gig; and, by the time Joe came back, he declared she wasa good deal better than new, and the dearest grandmother in the world.I think she was, myself, even if she was little and old and wrinkled,and had a cracked voice.

  They formed a great conspiracy against her, and took her to New York.She never could see how they did it; and Joe insisted that it was"sleight-of-hand," he having learned magic in China. It was very oddand laughable to see her going round Florence's pretty home, leaningon Dot's shoulder, and listening, like a child, to the descriptions ofthe pictures and bronzes, and confusing the names of different things.But Dot declared that it was right next door to heaven; and, for sweetcontent, it might have been. Charlie almost went wild.

  It seemed, indeed, as if Florence could never do enough to make amendsfor her past neglect. Edmund Darol treated Granny with the utmostrespect and tenderness. He never tired of hearing of their youthfulfrolics and fun; but Charlie's running away seemed the drollest of all.

  Mr. Paul Darol, or Uncle Paul as he had insisted upon being to allthe children, took Hal under his especial protection. They visitedgreen-houses, talked with florists, read books, and began to considerthemselves quite wise. Then they looked around for some suitableplaces. At Jersey City they found the nucleus of a hot-house, and avery fair prospect; but, on the outskirts of Brooklyn, they found apretty cottage and some vacant lots, that appeared quite as desirable.

  "Indeed, the neighborhood is much better," said Mr. Darol."Green-houses could soon be put up, and by fall you might be started inbusiness. I think the sooner the better."

  Hal's brown eyes opened wide in astonishment.

  "Yes," continued Mr. Darol, with an amused expression, "Joe and I havequite settled matters. He allows me _carte blanche_ for every thing;and, being arbitrary, I like to have my own way. When you decide upon alocation, I will take care that it shall be placed within your power."

  "You are so good! but I couldn't, I wouldn't dare"--And somehow Halcould not keep the tears out of his eyes.

  "I think this Brooklyn place the most desirable. It is on a horse-carroute, and near enough to Greenwood to attract purchasers thither. I'llbuy the place, and turn it over to you with a twenty-years' mortgage,if you like. You see, I am not giving you any thing but a chance to dofor yourself."

  Hal and Joe talked it over that evening.

  "How good everybody is to us!" said Hal. "There was Mrs. Howard, when Iwas so ill, and the Kinseys, while they were in Madison, and Dr. Meade,and"--

  "Mrs. Van Wyck, who snubbed Flossy, and prophesied that I should cometo the gallows. Hal, dear old chap, we have had ups and downs, andbeen poor as church-mice; but it is all coming around just right. AndI'd take the place: I know you will succeed."

  "But eight thousand dollars; and the green-houses, and the plantsafterward"--

  "Why, I'd be responsible for the place myself. The property would beworth a fortune in twenty years or so. And, with Mr. Darol to hold it,there wouldn't be the slightest risk."

  "But if I should not live"--

  "Nonsense! I'll come in and administer. I'll be thinking about yourepitaph. Mine is already stored away for use:--

  'From which it is believed, The unfortunate bereaved Went to sea, and was promiscuously drownded.'"

  "Now, isn't that pathetic?"

  "O Joe! you are too bad!"

  "It's a sign of long life, my dear. I have had to be worse than usual,to balance your account."

  Everybody said Hal must have the place. Mr. Darol actually purchasedit, and took Dot over to see the cottage. It was not very large, butsufficiently roomy for them, and had only been tenanted for a year;a pretty parlor and sitting-room, with a nice large kitchen, andabundance of closets. The chambers up stairs were very pleasant, andcommanded a beautiful view.

  "Will it do for you, O morsel of womankind?" asked Mr. Darol. "Ipropose to buy you a dog, and call you Mother Hubbard."

  Dot laughed, and blushed, and expressed her satisfaction.

  Then Hal declared they must return to Madison, and he would considerwhat could be done.

  "You can count on me for three hundred a year," said Joe with hisgood-by.

  They wanted Granny to remain with Florence, but she would not: so theyreturned together.

  Oh, poor little cottage! The chimney over the "best room" had blowndown in a March gale, and the roof leaked worse than ever. The streetwas surveyed, and staked out; and, oddest of all, Mr. Howard hadreceived a call to Brooklyn.

  "I suppose we must go," said Granny. "Dot needs a pretty home, and thisisn't"--

  "The palaces have spoiled us," said Dot. "Think of having hot and coldwater in your kitchen without a bit of fuss; and a bath-room, and thework so easy that it is just like playing at housekeeping. Why, Granny,you and I would have the nicest time in the world!"

  Mrs. Meade had cared for the flowers while Hal was away, though theymissed his loving hand. But he decided that it would be best to sellthem all out, and dispose of the place as soon as he could. Thetownship offered him three hundred dollars for the ground they needed;and presently Hal found a purchaser for the remainder, at twelvehundred dollars. By the time of Joe's next return Hal was ready to takea fresh start.

  One thousand was paid down; and Joe promised three hundred of theinterest every year, and as much more as he could do. Mr. Darol was tosuperintend the erection of the green-house,--two long rows, joined bya little square at the end, a kind of work-room, which could be openedor closed at pleasure. They were built on the back part of the twolots, and the space in front was to remain a summer-garden. The streethad a lovely southern exposure, while a great elm-tree shaded the house.

  They all came back to the Old Shoe for a farewell visit. It was June,and they had supper out of doors; for, somehow, half the neighborhoodhad invited itself. Everybody was sorry to lose Hal and Granny; andeverybody thought it wonderful that the Kenneths had prospered, and hadsuch luck.

  Then Florence took Granny and Dot to a pretty seaside resort, whereCharlie was to join them. Kit and Hal were to pack up whateverhousehold treasures were worth saving, and afterward domesticatethemselves with their brother-in-law.

  Good-by, Old Shoe! Tumble down at your will. There is no more laughingor crying or scolding or planning for you to hear,--no tenderchildren's voices singing Sunday-evening hymns in the dusk, no littlefolded hands saying reverent prayers. O
old house, brown and rusty anddilapidated! there has been much joy under your roof; many prayersanswered, many sorrows, and some bitter tears, that God's hand wipedaway. Every crumbling board has some tender memories. And, as Haland Kit sit on the old stone step for the last time, their hands areclasped tightly, their eyes are full of tears, and neither can trusthis voice to speak.

  Good-by! The birds said it, the wandering winds said it, the wavinggrasses, and the rustling trees. You have had your day, old house, andthe night has come for you.