CHAPTER VI
PIPPIN SINGS FOR HIS SUPPER
So Pippin sang for his supper, a grateful Tommy Tucker; and the imbecilegirl sat at his feet and listened, rocking to and fro, her lovely faceso full of joy that it was almost--almost--
He sang about the Young Lady who went a-hunting with her dog and hergun, and about poor bonny sweet Bessie, the Flower of Dundee, and"Silver Threads among the Gold," which made Mrs. Bailey cry and Jacobblow his nose loudly. He was about to give them "Nancy Lee," but checkedsuddenly. Was he forgetting the Lord, after that elegant supper? Nowwouldn't that give you a pain?
"_That's right!_" Pippin spoke so suddenly that everybody started."Excuse _me_!" he said hastily. "I was thinkin'--leastways I wa'n'tthinkin'--well, it don't signify whichever way of it, but if agreeable,I will praise the Lord a spell!"
A murmur of approval greeted him. Mrs. Bailey's kind face lighted up.
"That will surely be a treat!" she cried. "And--oh, Mr. Pippin, wait onemoment! If you don't mind standing in the doorway of old Mr. Blossom'sroom, so he can hear you? He's real quiet now, and I'm sure 'twill dohim good--"
So Pippin stood in the doorway, and threw back his head and sang withall his heart and soul:
"When I can read my title clear To mansions in the skies, I'll bid farewell to every fear, And wipe my weeping eyes."
This hymn is left out of many hymn books nowadays; it is old-fashioned,and some of its lines are patently absurd: but I wish the hymnologistscould hear Pippin sing it. His voice goes soaring up, a golden trump ofvictory and triumph:
"There shall I bathe my weary soul In seas of heavenly rest; And not a wave of trouble roll Across my peaceful breast."
As he finished, he swung round, his eyes blazing, every inch of hima-thrill. "Old man," he cried, and the passion in his voice made themall start. "Don't you feel it? Don't you feel somethin' crinklin' allthrough you, like sap in a sugar maple? That's the grace of God, Oldman; let her run! Oh, Lord, let her run!"
There was a moment's silence; then Mr. Blossom snickered. It is not apretty word, but then it was not a pretty sound.
Pippin was at his side in an instant, his eyes ablaze again, but with avery different light.
"You old skunk!" he cried, gripping the bony shoulders hunched below theleering face. "You darned old son of a broken whisky jug, you dare tosnicker before the Lord? For half a quarter of a cent I'd wring yourrooster's neck for you, you--"
He stopped, as if somebody had touched him. His head drooped, his armsdropped by his side, and he flushed scarlet from throat to forehead. Hestood so for several minutes, no one stirring; then he turned humbly toJacob Bailey.
"I ask your pardon, sir, and the company's. I lost holt of myself.There! I am fairly ashamed." He leaned over the poor old sinner, who wasstill gasping from the sudden onslaught. "Hurt you, did I, Old Man? Iask your pardon, too, I do so. Lemme h'ist you a mite!"
With anxious care he raised the shrunken figure and settled the pillowsunder the palsied head.
"There! That comfy, old geezer? Now you go to sleep! I was a mutt toshake you up that way. Goo' night, Old Man!"
* * * * *
Sitting on his neat bed an hour later, Pippin dealt with himself, asjudge with criminal. His vivid fancy saw himself as two distinct beings,one arraigning, the other replying. He desired to know whether he,Pippin, thought he was all creation? Because if so, he took leave totell him he wasn't, nor anything approachin' it. Reassured on thispoint, he further observed that perhaps on the whole it might be bestfor him to go back to Shoreham. Most likely he wasn't prepared yet tolive among Christian folks; say he was to go back for another year tillhe'd learned to hold his tongue and keep his temper! How would he likethat?
"Well, then, you behave! If you're a Christian, show up, that's what Isay. What was it you promised Elder Hadley? To look for the grace of Godin every one you see, wasn't it? Well, then! _Did_ you look for it inOld Man Blossom?"
"Why, sure! Didn't I sing, and pray, and all? I couldn't find no grace,not a mite, so help me!"
Silence; the outward man sitting with bent head and knotted brows, theinner--both of him--wrestling with a problem. At last the brows cleared,the head lifted.
"Bonehead!" said Pippin. "You didn't look in the right place. Prayin'an' singin' wasn't his kind, no more than they were a dumb critter's.Didn't he want his little gal, want her real bad? Wasn't that mebbe theway grace took him? I expect the Lord has as many ways as there isfolks."
Finally Pippin concluded that he would do well to say his prayers and goto bed and let the Lord run things a spell, as He was full able to do.And start off next morning, sure thing, or the Boss would think he hadcut. Gee! he hated to leave this place!
* * * * *
"I don't see how you do it!" said Pippin. "Gorry to 'Liza, Mr. Brand, Idon't see _how_ you do it!"
Brand was making a broom; Pippin, smoking his after-breakfast andbefore-departure pipe in the barn doorway, watched him with growingwonder and admiration. His fingers seemed almost to twinkle, they movedso fast, knotting, laying together, binding in the fragrant strands ofbroom corn.
"I've made many a broom!" Pippin went on. "I was counted a crackerjackat bindin'; but you work twice as fast blind as what I would seein';that's what gets me!"
The blind man raised his head with a smile, his hands never ceasingtheir swift motion.
"I sometimes think seeing folks don't have half a chance at broom-makingand like that," he said. "There's so many things to take their mindsoff. Now, take this minute of time. There's a cloud passing over thesun, isn't there?"
"Why, yes!" Pippin looked up involuntarily, shifting his position alittle to do so. "Yes, sir, there is. Now how--"
"And you had to look up to see it!" the blind man went on, calmly. "Thattakes time and attention. Now I _feel_ the cloud, and that's all thereis to it. There are some advantages in being blind; born blind, thatis."
Pippin gave him a helpless look. His eyes wandered over the scene beforehim: the wide, sunny barnyard, the neat buildings, the trim gardenspaces, the green, whispering trees; beyond them the white ribbon of theroad, and wave upon wave of fair rolling country, sinking gradually towhere the river flowed between its darkly wooded banks; overhead a skyof dazzling blue flecked with cloudlets of no less dazzling white. Therewas a hawk hovering over the chicken yard. Pippin picked up a stone andthrew it at the bird, which vanished with a shrill scream. His eyes cameback to the figure in the doorway, with bent head and flying fingers.
"Advantages?" he repeated, and his tone was as helpless as his look hadbeen. "Well, you get me, Mr. Brand, every time. You--you was born blind,sir, do I understand?"
Brand nodded. "Sixty years ago this month. When I say advantages, Idon't mean I would have chose--" he made a slight, eloquent gesturetoward the clear, sightless eyes. "But since so it is, one looks at itfrom that end, you see, and one finds--advantages. For one thing,changes don't trouble a born-blind man as they do seeing folks. I heartalk about this person looking poorly, and that one having gone gray,and lost his teeth, and like that; that don't trouble me, you see, not amite. Folks look to me just as they sound. Now take our folkshere--Lucy--I would say Mrs. Bailey--and Jacob: well, their voices tellme what they are like, see? They called Lucy handsome when she was agirl; she's just as handsome to me as she was then."
There was a wistful note in his voice, and Pippin responded instantly.
"She's a fine-appearin' lady, now!" he said heartily. "She sure is."
"I presume likely!" said Brand. "She'd have to be, being what she is.When Lucy first grew up, I made a--a picture (so to say! I never saw apicture) of her in my mind, and I see it as clear to-day as I did then."
He was silent for a time, then went on, in an altered tone: "Thenthere's other things, things that seeing folks don't have. Take hearing.I hear twice what most folks do, and I hear things no seeing person_can_ hear; undertones, ou
r music teacher called them, and overtones,too. Now, you hear a woman's dress rustle, and that's all, isn't it?"
"Ye-yes!" Pippin replied. "That is--I can tell a silk rustle from acalico, and a woolen from either."
"Well, that is more than many men can do. Women, of course; but not manymen without training." The blind man leaned forward, and felt carefullyof Pippin's ear. "A good ear!" he nodded approvingly. "An excellent goodear! There's many hold that the outer ear has nothing to do withhearing, but I don't know! I don't know! The Doctor told me of a kingwho wanted to know everything that was said in his house--palace,like!--and he built it in the shape of an ear. Long ago, Doctor said itwas, and he didn't say he believed it, but I've often wondered. Butyou've had training, too; you've learned how to listen, which is morethan some folks learn all their lives long."
"You bet I had training!"
Not a vision this time, though a dim, brutal figure lurks in thebackground; not a vision, but a sound!
"Listen! listen, you cursed pup, or I'll cut your heart out. My ears arethick to-night. Is that a cop's whistle, or a pal's? If you get itwrong, I'll make you sweat blood--"
"Yes, I had training!" said Pippin.
"Then--" Brand's face was fairly glowing as he turned it on his youngvisitor. It was not often that he could speak of his blindness, butthere was something about this boy that seemed to draw speech from himlike a magnet. "Then--there's the other senses; smell--why, whatwonderful pleasure I have in a delicate smell! Whether it's a flower, ormy bacon when it's smoked just to the fine point, or--why, take smokealone, all the various kinds of it! Wood smoke, and good tobacco, andleaves burning in the fall of the year, and brush fires in spring! Andthere's herbs, southernwood, mint, lemon balm--wonderful pleasure inodors, yes, sir! And when you come to touch, why there's where a blindman has it over a seeing, almost every time. The pleasure of touching aleaf of mullein, say, or soft hair like the little gal's--Flora May's, Iwould say--or a fruit, or a baby's cheek--wonderful pleasure! I wonderare your fingers as good as your ears? Let me see!" He held out hishand, and Pippin laid his own in it.
How proud you were of your hands, Pippin! How you used to boast thatyour fingers needed no sandpaper to sharpen their exquisite touch! Isthat why you hang your head, and the blood creeps up to the roots ofyour hair?
"If he's let to live," a husky voice murmurs, "he'll make a ---- ----good un; but I ain't certain but I'll wring his neck yet. There's thingsabout him ain't right!"
Perfectly consistent, Mr. Bashford, and wholly correct from your pointof view!
"A fine hand!" says David Brand. "Strong and yet delicate. You can do agreat deal with that hand, young man. Why, with that, and your fineears, you--why--" he laughs his cheery laugh--"I won't go so far as sayyou'd ought to have been born blind, but you surely would make afirst-rate blind man!"
Pippin puffed at his pipe meditatively for a few minutes, consideringthe serene face and the flying fingers. What a face it was! the calm,thoughtful brow, the well-cut features, the clear eyes, the patientlook--well, there! If an Angel could be old--that is to say, gettin' onin years--and blind, this would sure be him! Now--come to see a facelike this, you know the Lord has ben there: _is_ there, right along,same as the devil was with Dod and Nosey and them. Do a person good,now, to hear what he has to tell, how the Lord has dealt with him, whatsay? He couldn't more than say no, if--
"Mr. Brand!" Pippin spoke timidly, yet eagerly. "You'll excuse me--butwhen I like folks, I like to know about 'em; what they've no objectionto tellin' is what I would say. You must have a lot that's realinterestin'--I hope no offense!" he ended lamely.
"None in the world!" Brand laughed cheerily. "Quite the other way, youngman. Old folks don't always find young ones that care to hear their oldstories. I should be pleased--find a seat, won't you? I haven't much totell, but you're welcome to what there is!"
Pippin curled his long legs up on the floor, his back against the doorjamb. "This is great!" he murmured. "This certainly is great. I'd oughtto be gettin' on, but I don't care. Now if you're ready, Mr. Brand!"
Brand reached for a pile of straws, measured, clipped, laid them inorderly piles ready for binding in.
"I was born in Cyrus," he said; "born and raised. I was the only child,and my parents did everything they could for me. I was a happy youngsterand had reason to be. Everybody was good to me; Cyrus is a good, kindneighborly place. Yes, sir, I was a happy boy. Always singing andlaughing; I recollect hearing folks say, 'Poor child!' or like that whenthey came to see mother. I used to wonder what poor child they meant. Iasked Lucy one day--Lucy Allen, that's Mrs. Bailey now; we lived nextdoor, and played together always, her and Jacob and me. I says, 'Lucy,who are they always saying "Poor child!" about? Is it you?' And Lucysays, 'I wouldn't wonder, Dave! My front teeth has come out, and I am asight.' Little girl seven years old: she was that thoughtful always,Lucy was. She was doing me good turns every day and all day when we waslittle: once, I remember, I had a chance to do her one. We was playingtogether in Uncle Ivory Cheeseman's candy kitchen--he give us the run ofit, Lucy and Jacob and me, because he could trust us, he said; he was akind old man, though crusty where crust was needed. Well, we was playingthere, and Lucy went too near the stove and her dress caught fire. Ismelled it before it begun to blaze, and caught it in my two hands andsqueezed it out. 'Twas a calico skirt; another minute and 'twould havebeen in a blaze."
Brand paused, and Pippin looked up inquiringly.
"I've always been thankful for that!" said Brand. "There was a girl atthe Institution who lost her sight by burning, just that way, her skirtcatching at the stove."
"Now wouldn't that give you a pain?" murmured Pippin. "I know whatburnin' feels like, just a mite of it. Not meanin' to interrupt, Mr.Brand; I'm just as interested!"
"When I was ten years old, mother died, and father sent me to the BlindInstitution. I was there many years, and there I learned all Iknow--except what I learned before or since!" Brand added with awhimsical smile. "That puts me in mind of the first--no, the second--dayI was there. I was to see the Doctor, the head of the Institution--hewas away the day I came--and I was left alone in his office to wait forhim. I was always keen to see what kind of place I was in, so I wasmoving about the room, finding out in my own way, when the door openedand two men came in. One of them was tall--what say?"
"Now! now!" cried Pippin. "How in the airthly did you know he was tall?"
"His voice was high up! That's an easy one, Pippin. Why, _you_ wouldknow that, with those good ears. He was speaking, and the first sound ofthat voice stays by me yet. A _master_ voice! I've never forgot thewords either. 'The first lesson--the hard lesson--you have first tolearn is--_to be blind_--to live in the world without light--to lookupon your life as still a blessing and a trust, and to resolve to spendit well and cheerfully, in the service of your Maker and for thehappiness of those about you.'"[1]
[1] Dr. S.G. Howe to one of his blind pupils.
He paused. Pippin sat spellbound, gazing at the face that was indeed nowas the face of an angel.
"The service of your Maker, and the happiness--" he murmured. "Say,that's great! It--it sounds like a song, don't it, Mr. Brand? Or--likePsalms, some way of it! I'd like to learn them words off by heart, sir,if no objection."
"He was a great man!" said Brand reverently. "A great and good man. Ashe spoke, so he lived, for his Maker and his fellow men. The man hespoke to gave a kind of groan, I remember; he had just lost his sight--agun that wasn't loaded, the old story! Then the Doctor said a littlemore, comforting him like, and then he saw me. I had felt all round theroom, and now I had my fingers on a raised map that hung on the wall. Ihad heard of such things and was pleased to death to get hold of one. Isuppose it showed in my face, for the Doctor said, 'Here's a littlefellow who already knows how to be blind! Come here, my son!' I wentstraight to him--his voice led me, you understand: I could always followa voice, from the time I learned to walk. He laid his hand on my headand turned my face up, studying me. I
knew that; I felt his eyes, is theonly way I can put it. 'Born blind, weren't you, my boy?' he said.'Twasn't often the Doctor had to be told anything about blind folks--orseeing either, for that matter. Well, sir, that was the beginning oflife for me, in a way. I got my education there. 'Twas a happy place,and a happy life. I could tell about it from now till sundown, and notfairly make a beginning. The Doctor was my friend; everybody was myfriend. I was quick, and I wanted to learn; and, too, there was a gooddeal I didn't have to learn, being born blind, you see. There's apassage in the Bible about remembering that 'he was born thus'; I usedto think--"
A silence fell, while Brand counted strands, Pippin watching himeagerly. A black hen who had been watching, too, her head cocked, herbright yellow eye fixed on the blind man with the false air ofintelligence affected by hens, came up with a quick, rocking step, anduttered a long, reflective "crawk!" scratching meanwhile on the barnfloor.
"Hicketty Picketty wants some corn!" said Brand. "Here, Picketty!" Hetook a handful of corn from a bag and scattered it. The black hen peckedvigorously, trying to get every grain swallowed before any one elseshould come; but the motion of Brand's hand brought other hensfluttering, squawking, jostling, to get their share, and there was quitea scrimmage before he could resume his work.
"I spoil that hen!" he said apologetically. "Jacob says I oughtn't, andit's true; but she has such a way with her! There's no other hen I'm sopartial to, though I love them all.
"Well! Want to hear any more, or are you tired of listening? 'Tisn'tmuch of a story; I warned you in the beginning."
"Tired? Well, I guess nix! Why, I'm--why, it's _great_, Mr. Brand! I'mlearnin' something 'most every word you say. Do go on, sir--if I'm nottroublin' you!"
"I don't know as there is so very much more to tell, after all. A man'slife goes on steady; there don't things keep happening right along, asthey do in stories. I've had a quiet life, but a real pleasant one. Istayed on at the Institution quite a spell after I grew up, teaching inthe shop. Basketry is what I taught; I liked it best, and was good atit. Then, along when I was thirty years old, father needed me, and Icame home. He was getting on in years, and he needed some one, and I wasthe one. His housekeeper got married, and I was handy about the house.Yes, we made out to do well, father and I, as long as he lived. Sparetime and evenings, I'd make brooms and baskets, and the neighbors tookall I could make. Sometimes I'd make a trip round other places, same asyou do with your wheel, Pippin. I liked that real well. Lucy and Jacobhad married by that time--I always knew they would! I--yes, I alwaysknew they would, and right and fitting it was. Jacob's folks had passedon, and he and Lucy lived there next door to us, and was like brotherand sister to me, as they always had been. Cyrus is a pleasant place;yes, sir, we've all been happy, only when Lucy lost her littleDavid--named for me, yes, and like my own to me. That was a grief, butgrief is part of our lot. Lucy mourned so, Jacob was desirous of makinga change for her, and about that time they was changing here, too, andthe selectmen beseeched Jacob and Lucy to take the place, and they did.They wanted me to come with them then, but I wouldn't leave father.Bimeby, though, father passed on, and then--I didn't make up my mindright away to the change. I didn't want to be a care to Lucy, and Ithought I could get on by myself, and I _could_; but--well--no need togo into that. Along about ten years back I come to make my home herewith my good friends, and I've never regretted, nor I hope theyhaven't."
"No need to go into that!" Quite right, Brand. Impossible for you,being what you are, to tell of the various persons, male and female, whosaw your comfortable cottage and few but fertile acres, and "felt a callto do for you." Lucy Bailey sometimes spoke of it to her husband withamused indignation. "Fairly driven out of his home, David was! The idea!Lucky we had one to offer him, or he'd have been saddled with the wholepassel of them, like Cap'n Parks was a while back, and no Mercy Lovelyto trim 'em out for him."
A doleful squeak was heard, and a wheelbarrow trundled slowly by withMr. Wisk as the motive power. "You'd think 'twould go faster by itself!"Pippin thought; then reproached himself, the man being afflicted.Brand's fine brows contracted as he listened to the squeak.
"Wisk has been promising to oil that exe for a month!" he said. "Itgives me the toothache to hear it."
"Moves kinder moderate, don't he?" said Pippin. "I s'pose his leghenders him."
Brand laughed. "I don't--know! Aunt Mandy Whetstone says the lame legmakes the better time of the two. She's small and spry, you know, andWisk gets in her way sometimes. He means all right, but he never feelsany call to hurry, that I know of."
Here Mr. Wisk, having given up the wheelbarrow as a bad job, camehobbling up, and with a wheeze by way of greeting, planted his shouldersagainst the door-jamb. "Nice mornin'!" he said.
"Great!" replied Pippin. "It surely is great! I'd oughter ben on theroad an hour ago, but Mr. Brand makes it hard to get away, now I tellye. I must go in and say good-by to the folks, and then I'm off. Mr.Brand, I thank you a thousand times for all you've told me, and you maybe sure I shan't forget it, no, sir! You'll see me again pretty soon. Ishan't be able to keep away from this place more'n just about so long, Isee that plain. Good-by, sir!"
They shook hands warmly, the blind man urging him to come sooner andstay longer every time he could.
"Good-by to you, too, Mister." Pippin turned to the lame man.
"I'm goin' into the house!" said the latter. "I'll step along with you.I want a drink o' water!"
He stumped along beside Pippin. Out of earshot of the barn, he lookedback over his shoulder. "Or a drink of something!" he added. "Got a dropabout you, young feller?"
"No, I ain't!" said Pippin shortly. He was not drawn toward Mr. Wisk.
"I thought you might have. I'm orful dry, and the water here don't agreewith me. Say! Brand ain't the only one is afflicted, young man. I wantyou should understand that. My limb pains me something fierce; veryclose veins is what I have. You wouldn't find me in no such place asthis if I didn't. Brand's a stand-offish kind of cuss, but he don'tmeasure up so much higher than other folks as what he thinks, mebbe.They make of him because he's blind, but I'll bet a dollar he don'tsuffer nights the way I do. Got a mite of tobacker to spare? Ain't? WhenI was in trade--I was a tin-knocker while I had my health--I allers madeout to have a drop and a chew for a gen'leman when he asked for it; ithelped trade. I was allers called a good feller. Well, so long! Callagain!"
Pippin took an affectionate leave of the inmates of Cyrus Poor Farm.They would see him again, he assured them heartily; no fears but theywould. All he had to do was say good-by to the Kingdom folks--for aspell. _They'd_ see him again, too. Elegant folks!--and go find thatlittle gal, or young woman, or whatever she was, and then just watch himmake a bee line for Cyrus! Yes, sir! He would bring back that gal, surething! And he would bring Mr. Brand some of that new basket stuff he'dheard tell of.
"Yes, ma'am!" as he shook hands with Miss Lucilla Pudgkins. "You shallhave some perfoomery, the best I can lay hands on. And you shall havethem buttons, Miss Whetstone, if they are to be had. And Miss Flora Mayshall--"
He looked about the room, but the girl was not there.
"She's out some place," said Mrs. Bailey. "Feeding the hens, I presumelikely. I'll tell her good-by for you, Pippin!"
He shook hands with Old Man Blossom, who was only too eager to befriends. "I'm all friends, Pippin!" he cried in eager, quavering tones."Honest I am! You find my little gal, and you can pray yourself black inthe face and I won't say a word. It just took me that way, you know; youprayin' as slick as a Gospel shark, and Nipper's wheel out in the shedall the time--tee hee! You're smart, Pippin! Ain't any pious goin' toget round you, hey? 'Tother way round, hey? Gorry! that is rich!"
He grew purple, and the bed shook under him.
"Hold on there!" said Pippin. "Don't you go and have another on me. I'mgoin'." And he bolted.
"I'm comin' out to the gate with you!" said Jacob. "Take a look at thestock as you go?"
Pippin nodded gravely. The two went out
together to the great barn,fragrant with hay; patted the sleek farm horses, rubbed the noses ofthe calves. Jacob pointed out briefly the merits of each animal; Pippinresponded with suitable encomiums. Both men were absent and constrained.It was not till they reached the gate that Jacob Bailey spoke out.Leaning against a post, he drew out his jack knife, looked about for astick, and finding one, began to whittle.
"Well!" he said at length. "So you found your way here. How do youlike?"
"First-rate!" said Pippin. "I never saw a place I liked so well."
Jacob whistled "Yankee Doodle" (his one tune) carefully through; then--
"How about comin' back?" he said. And as Pippin was about to speak, "Imean comin' to stay! There now, I've out with it," he added. "Here itis! Me and m' wife have took a liking to you, and so has all theinmates. I never saw 'em take so to any one, unless 'twas Cap'n Parks,and he's an old friend. What I would say is, Pippin, we're gettin' on inyears, and we need young help. We've no boys of our own; I've got anevy, but--never mind about that now! We'd like first-rate to think thatyou'd come back bimeby to stay."
"Do you hear that?" Pippin asked himself silently. "He would trust me;knowin' all there is to know, he'd take me right in! Now wouldn'tthat--" He turned to Mr. Bailey with shining eyes. "You're real good,sir!" he said simply. "You're--you're _darned_ good! I don't know how tosay what I feel, but I feel it all the same. Now--want me to say whatI've ben thinkin'?"
"Sure!" assented Jacob with a grave nod. Pippin looked about himvaguely. "Woodpile yonder!"
Jacob nodded over his shoulder. Pippin went to the pile and selected astick with great care, squinting along it to observe the straightness ofthe grain. Returning with his prize, he produced his own knife, andsilence reigned for a moment while he removed the bark, Jacob criticallyregarding him the while.
"I've ben thinkin'--the _chance_ of it! Here you've got these folks, andthey're nice folks--most of 'em, that is--and you're doin' everything inthe world for 'em, and it's _great_. Yes, sir, it's great! And the farm,and the garding--why, it's Mother dear, Jerusalem, right here in Cyrustownship, or so it appears to me. But what I'm thinkin' of is the boys!"
A look of pain crossed the kindly face. "The boys!" he repeated.
"Mr. Bailey, I'd love to take care of them old folks, and blind, andlike that; but all the time I'm thinkin' of the boys. Boys in the slums,and boys in jug, where I left 'em the other day. It appears to be laidupon me that I am to help the boys; though not to forget the otherseither, when I git a chance at 'em. Now see! I can't go but a littleways at a time, can I? It's like I was learnin' to walk--if you see whatI mean. I don't know just what the Lord has for me to do, 'cept thefirst thing, to find this old rip's gal. That's plain, ain't it? When Ican _see_ a thing, right face to, I can do it--sometimes! But afterthat--all about it, I can't tell, but I expect the Lord has it all laidout for me, and He'll let me know, 'cordin' to."
There was a pause. Pippin looked up expectantly, and saw his companionlooking out over the fields with eyes full of trouble. His face hadsuddenly fallen into lines of age.
"What's wrong, sir?" asked Pippin impulsively. "Have I said anything Ishouldn't? I'll ask you to excuse me if I have."
A shake of the head reassured him. Jacob Bailey turned the troubled eyeson him, seemed to hesitate; finally, clearing his throat, spoke in aslow, husky voice.
"There's one boy--" He stopped. "Them oats looks good, don't they?" Henodded toward an adjoining field.
"Fine!" Pippin threw a hasty glance toward the oats. "They are dandy,sure. You was speakin' of a boy, Mr. Bailey! What about him?"
Still the gray-haired man hesitated, looking about him with thosetroubled eyes. At last he seemed to make up his mind, and lookedstraight at Pippin.
"There's one boy--" he said; "Pippin, there's one boy needs help theworst way. I expect he's right there in Kingdom, where you're stoppin'."
"I want to know!" Pippin was aglow with interest. "Where'll I find him?What's his name? Has he been run in?"
"Speak low!" the farmer glanced about him. "There's no one round, andyet you never can tell; the folks don't know. It's m' wife's nevy I'mspeakin' of, Myron Allen, her sister's son. He's been stayin' with ussince his mother died--father dead, too--and he got to be like our ownto us. He went to school, and he helped me with the chores and helped m'wife with hers, and was handy boy all round. Mebbe we worked him toohard; he's only sixteen. We never thought it, but mebbe we did. Yet heseemed happy--whistlin' all over the place, jokin' and like that; andhis cheeks was round and red as a Baldwin apple. Yes, sir, he enjoyedgood health, and everybody made of him, and he was good as gold. Yes,sir, no one couldn't ask nor wish for a better boy than what Myron wastill last summer. Then--well, 'twas bad company begun it."
"You bet it was!" murmured Pippin. "Go on, sir!"
"'Twas hayin' last year done the mischief. Myron hired out to a man overTinkham way--that was after he'd got through with the hayin' here--andthere he met up with some that was no better than they should be by allaccounts. Pippin, that boy left us an innocent boy, that never had a badword in his mouth that ever _I_ heard, nor no one round here. He comeback--" the gruff voice faltered--"he come back different, sir. He'dslap through his work and then off he'd go and set down behind the shedand read. He'd got a lot of books from some one he'd met up with; themSleuth stories, you know, and like that, little paper books. You've seen'em?"
"I've seen 'em!" Pippin nodded.
"He'd set there by the hour, readin' and readin', and oftentimes thecows bellerin' their hearts out to be milked. I'd come back from thefield and find him with his nose in the book, and his eyes startin' outof his head. There warn't no cows nor no farm nor nothin' for him thosetimes. I'd get real worked up, now and then, and give him a good callin'down, and he'd do better for a spell; but that was only the beginning."He glanced round again, and his voice dropped to a whisper.
"There's more to it. Things begun to be missed round here! It's beengoin' on all winter; nothin' great, just a little here and a littlethere. Folks begun to talk, and some claimed 'twas tramps, and somebegun to wonder--He's only a boy, you understand, Pippin! Oftentimes thethinkin' part grows up slower than what the bodily part does, ain't thatso?"
Pippin met the anxious eyes cheerfully.
"That's so! Why, likely he wasn't more than ten years old, come to lookinside of him. Where you'll find one boy that knows just where hookin'ends and stealin' begins, you'll find a dozen that don't. And there'smore to it than that; but go on, sir! I'm just as inter_est_ed as I canbe!"
"This spring, a feller come along, and Myron knew him; he was one ofthem he had met over Tinkham way, and he was trampin'. Lookin' for work,he said, but if I ever saw a countenance that said lookin' for mischief,'twas his. Young man, too! Well, Myron brought him in and we treated himwell, because Myron seemed so taken with him. We give him a bed, andnext day I set him to work hoein'--said he _wanted_ work, youunderstand--and he appeared pleased as pie. Myron was hoein', too; wecan't keep the witch grass out of that field, try our best. I was busyin the barn that day, choppin' hay, but yet I'd come out now and thenjest to let 'em know I was round, and every time I'd find 'em with theirheads together, tongues doin' the work and hoes takin' a noon spell:quick as they saw me they'd shut up and go to work. Well! I'd ought tohave known then that they was plottin' mischief, but you don't look foryour own folks--"
He broke off, and was silent a moment. Pippin assured himself that itwas all right; it hurt, and thank the Lord it did! How'd he feel if itdidn't?
"That night one of the neighbors was broke into, and money taken fromhis pants pocket. He woke up jest in time to see a man with a mask ongettin' out of the window. He up and run, but they was too quick forhim--he see from the window there was two of 'em--and though hehollered and fired his gun, they got off, and he couldn't find hide norhair of 'em. Next mornin' the tramp was gone, and Myron with him, and Ifound--I found in Myron's room some pieces of black cloth, and one of'em with eyeholes cut in it."
There was a long silence. The two sticks were beautifully smooth by thistime; Pippin began polishing his thoughtfully on his coat sleeve.Finally he shut his knife with a snap, and straightened his broadshoulders. The older man, looking up, met his eyes brimful of light andjoy.
"Mr. Bailey," said Pippin, "the Lord is awful good to me! What did Itell you just now? That I couldn't see but just one step ahead, wasn'tthat it? Well, now I see two, and the second one is ahead of the other."
"I don't--quite--" began Jacob doubtfully.
"Don't you? Why do you s'pose the Lord put in your mind to tell me aboutthis? Why, green grass! I got to find the boy as well's the gal! That'splain to see. Look! Where would them two go? They'd strike the nearesttown, wouldn't they, so's they could lay up a bit, and spend their swag?Well, what's the nearest town? Kingdom, where I'm stayin' at present;Kingdom, where I'll have to be a spell yet, till I find some one to takemy place--Green grass! I believe--"
Silent again, but in great excitement, Pippin pocketed his knife andstick, pulled out his file, and ran it through and through his hairwildly.
"Mr. Bailey, sir," he cried at last, "the Lord is showin' me His hand,and it's a dandy one. Don't say a word; don't ask me anything; but ifyou can trust me--if you _can_ trust me--why, I'm to be trusted, becausethe Lord has hired me for the job!"
Pippin; A Wandering Flame Page 6
