Pippin; A Wandering Flame

by Laura Elizabeth Howe Richards

  CHAPTER XXV

  PIPPIN OVERCOMES

  "Well, how about it?" said John Aymer.

  A council was being held in the pleasant parlor with the rose-coloredshades. John Aymer, Lucy his wife, and Lawrence Hadley, his wife'sbrother, were sitting together, talking of things with which we havesome concern.

  "How about it?" repeated the hardware merchant. He planted both elbowson his knees, rested his chin on his hands, and, as he would have said,squared away for action. The others looked up inquiringly. "Pippin isyour hunt, Larry, and from your point of view--and his--he is on theright track, and it's all highcockolorum Erin go Bragh. But Mary is ourhunt, Lucy's and mine, and we don't feel so sure about all this."

  "I do part of the time, John!" Mrs. Aymer spoke with a certain timidity,unlike her usual gay decisiveness. "When I talk with Larry, or seePippin--even just look at him--it seems all as right as right; butthen--"

  "But then you look at Mary, and it doesn't. See here, Lar!" John Aymerlaid down his pipe, a token of strong interest with him. "Pippin is whatyou call a mystic and I call a glorified crank. All he wants in theworld--beside Mary--is a chance to help, as he says; and it's great. Iknow it is, and I'm proud to know the chap, and all that. But that_isn't_ all Mary wants!"

  The chaplain looked up with a grave nod of comprehension.

  "Mary Blossom," John Aymer went on, "is a fine girl, and she's anambitious girl. She has done well herself, got a first-rate education ofits kind, made herself a first-rate all-round young woman, capable ofdoing--within limits--anything she sets her hand to. Now--she's as deadstuck on Pippin as he is on her--"

  "John! What language! She adores him, if that is what you mean."

  "Well, she adores him, then--doesn't sound half as real--but she doesn'tadore the line of life he is laying out for himself and her. I don'tbelieve she takes any more stock in it than--than I should. She wouldlike to see her husband a church member in regular standing: avestryman; doing no end of pious work, you know--he has to do _that_ orbust; even I can see that--but doing it in a regular respectable kind ofway: chairman of Boards--what? Frock coat, handsome rooms,subcommittees, secretaries, that kind of thing. She wants to see him aleader, and she believes he can be. This picking up a boy here and atramp there, singing and praying, hurrah boys and God bless you, doesn'tcut much ice with Mary. Poor little soul, she cried an hour on Lucy'sshoulder the other night. Lucy cried, too, of course; water works allover the house, almost drowned me out."

  "John!"

  "Well, sir, that kind of thing--the chairman, frock coat, committee-roomthing, is what Mary wants for her husband; and who can say but she'sright? I don't say she is, mind! I'm not a spiritual kind of man, and Iknow it; but I do say that Pippin ought to realize how she feels andthe kind of life she would choose. Then he can face it, squarely, andmake his own decision, knowing what it means to her. You say--" heturned to his wife, who was listening intently--"he's had no education.Granted--in a way! But you can't keep Pippin from education any morethan you can keep a dog from water when he's thirsty. (Nip's bowl isempty, by the way, Lucy; might cry into that next time, what?) I don'tsay it will be book education; much good my books have done me, and asyou say, Lucy, my English resembles a tinker's--well, thought it, if youdidn't say it--well--what do you say, Reverend?"

  Lawrence Hadley threw his head back with a little reversed nod that wasall his own.

  "Give me a minute, Jack! I'm assimilating! Give me a minute!"

  He took a minute, whistling "Am I a soldier of the Cross?" throughslowly and carefully. Then he took three more in silence, walking slowlyup and down the room, the others watching him anxiously.

  All true--so far as it went. Pippin ought to see, ought to realize, whatMary wanted. Ought to realize, too, what power he would have in thatway, the frock coat, roast-turkey, mahogany-and-brass-rail way.Popularity? He might become the idol of a day--of many days. Men'shearts would open to him like flowers to the sun. Mass meetings;hospitals; his voice floating through the wards; "the bright seraphim inburning row!" Yes! Mary beside him, glorified in him, shining with hislight and her own--Yes!--On the other hand--what? A dying trampcomforted; a weak boy saved from ruin; a poor old sinner made happy. Notmuch, perhaps? And yet--had the Master founded hospitals there inJudea? Had He healed all the lepers? He healed one, and the worldchanged. The hospitals have been building ever since.

  At last he spoke.

  "Every word you say is true, Jack! Hold on!" as the other reached forhis pipe with an air of relief. "Don't light up yet; you won't be sopleased in a minute. Every word is true, I say, but it's only half thetruth, and the less important half!"

  Hadley's eyes kindled, and he began to beat time with his fist on thearm of his chair. He was getting up steam.

  "What do you mean?" said Aymer, rather shortly.

  "You are right about Pippin's realizing Mary's point of view. He ought,and he shall; you shall put it to him yourself, as strongly as you like;but--here comes in my half--she must also realize his, and that is whatshe doesn't do."

  "That is true, John!" Mrs. Aymer started forward, clasping her prettyhands in an adorable little way she had when strongly moved. "She_doesn't_ realize, any more than you do; any more than I do, except justthe least little bit. But, oh, I know Lawrence is right! I feel it inevery bone I have. John dear, do as Lar says; put your side--_our_ side,for, oh, I _am_ such a worldly little animal!--before Pippin plainly,and then let Lar show Mary the other!"

  "Agreed!" said John Aymer.

  "No!" said Lawrence Hadley. "Pippin shall show her the other himself."

  At this moment came a knock at the door.

  "Come in!" said John Aymer impatiently.

  The door flew open, and Mary entered, a Mary at sight of whom Mrs.Aymer sprang forward with inarticulate murmurs, while the two men roseto their feet in confusion. A wholly unfamiliar Mary; one would havesaid an impossible one. Crying, laughing, clasping and unclasping herhands wildly, she ran to the other woman, and melted into her arms as ifthere were no such things as class distinctions in the world.

  "Oh! Mrs. Aymer!" she sobbed. "Oh, Mr. Aymer and Mr. Hadley! If youplease! I have been a wicked, wicked girl!"

  Sorely puzzled, the three friendly conspirators looked past the brighthead, now resting on Mrs. Aymer's agitated shoulder, to the doorway,where stood Pippin, silent, motionless, but radiating light and joy andpride, "Like a torch!" "Like a blooming lighthouse!" said the two men,each to himself, in his own speech.

  "I wouldn't cry, Mary!" Pippin spoke quietly, as he would to a child.

  "You would!" Mary flashed round upon him. "You'd cry your eyes out, andwish you had more to cry out! I've been a wicked, wicked girl! Oh, Mrs.Aymer! Oh, dear! Oh, dear! No, my kind lady, don't stop me, for it hasto come out. He took me--my Pippin took me--down--down to those dreadfulplaces where he used to live. I went into a cellar, dark and cold--oh!and there was a little child, all thin and cold and dirty, not clothesenough to cover him; and bruises on his little flesh! Oh, my heart! AndPippin said--Pippin said--'That might be me, Mary!' Oh, Mrs. Aymer! Oh,Mr. Hadley! _It might have been me, too!_ It all came back. Iremember--I remember--"

  The sobs choked her, but she fought them back fiercely, and went on,struggling for utterance, still clasping and unclasping those eagerhands. "He showed me more, but that was enough. I says to myself, 'Whoam I, to turn him from his own work? Who am I, to come between him andthe Lord? No! no!" She turned, and held out her hands with a passionategesture. Pippin stepped forward and clasped the hands in his.

  "We're going to work together!" said Mary Blossom. She spoke quietlynow, though the sobs still tried to break out. "I'm going to follow him,help him, serve with him, every minute of my life from now on. He willdo all the real work, everything that counts; but I can cook, and mend,and--oh, Mrs. Aymer, I can wa-wa-wash for them!"

  She caught Pippin's hand to her lips, then flung it away and ran out. Asilken flutter, and Lucy Aymer was after her like a flash. There was atempestuous
rustle of petticoats, and the sound of sobs and cooing; thensilence.

  The three men looked at one another. Presently John Aymer drew a longbreath. "So _that's_ all right!" he said. "One to you, Parson!"

  The chaplain laughed, a contented little laugh. "Very handsome of you,Jack!" he said. "What do you say, Pippin? Is it all right?"

  "It is, sir!" Pippin raised his head, which had been bent for a moment."Yes, Elder, and Boss--I would say Mr. Aymer, sir; it is all right. Iknew it would be; I never had no fears. I knew as soon as Mary sensed itshe'd realize how 'twas. Yes, sir, I took her down--" he named a certainquarter of the city--"and showed her. I didn't need to say a word,hardly. She saw; Mary saw! And now, Elder--" he turned to LawrenceHadley, and his eyes kindled. "Lemme tell you! It's like you said. I'vegot to get edication. I'm not fit to take holt of kids yet--not yet--butI will be! I'd like to start right away, if agreeable to you. You saywhere to go, and I'll go, if I have to wheel myself in a barrer!"

  CHAPTER XXVI

  PIPPIN PRAISES THE LORD

  Two years have passed, as yesterday, as a watch in the night. Once morethe chaplain sits in his office, the bare, unlovely little room where wefirst saw him. Once more he is opening, sorting, reading his morningmail, his brow saddening, lightening, saddening again. Finally, oncemore the cloud rolls away entirely, and he settles himself in his chairwith a comfortable sigh.

  "Pippin!" he says, and composes himself to read. Let us look over hisshoulder and read with him!

  HONORED AND RESPECTED SIR,

  I take up my pen with pleasure, to express the hope that the present seasonable weather may find you in good health and the enjoyment of every blessing. Well, Elder, I haven't written this good while past, because I wanted to wait and see would I be able to tell you what I _wanted_ to tell you. Well, Elder, I want you should know it's _all right_, I have got that degree! I had a talk with the Old Man last winter, and he surely is great. He said I was all right on chemistry and crops and soils and like that, and similar on social economics, and mathematics, but where I fell down was on rhetoric and English literature. I said did he think that cut any great amount of ice when all I wanted was know how to run a farm and bring up boys straight and white. He said he didn't know as it did, but yet I didn't want those boys to grow up speaking ignorant. You bet I don't says I, but what's to hinder me learning 'em? I says, and learning myself at the same time? Have the books, and study right along with 'em I says, and there would be others could teach me, I says. Then I told him how it was about me and Mary, and how it didn't seem as if I _could wait any longer_. He laughed real pleasant, and said he guessed I wouldn't be called upon to wait very long, and I should have the degree all right first minute he could give it to me. Then he explained just how it was, and of course I saw in a minute; he couldn't give a degree to a guy for knowing a thing when he didn't know it. He knew how 'twas with me, and that I was doing chores and odd jobs to pay my way. And grinding! Elder, I was thankful to Nipper for that wheel. I sure was. I kept the whole show sharpened up good, now I tell you.

  Well, Elder, now I want to tell you. When you first said, and Mr. Bailey upheld you, that it behooved me wait two years, and go to State Agricultural, and do thus and so, before I'd be fit to handle boys and be trusted by them as had 'em in charge--I tell you, sir, it seemed as if I _couldn't_, no way in the world. It appeared like I couldn't do it. It was like as if I was in Heaven, and you took me by my scruff and pants and hove me out. "It's more than reason," I says to myself. "It's more than flesh and blood can stand; it's like I was white-hot metal, and they took and threw cold water over me!" Well, Elder! You see where that was leading me? I bet you do! But I didn't, not at first. I went out to the barn, you rec'lect, and just set there by myself, humped up on the meal bucket, sayin' over and over, "I was all white hot to do the Lord's work, and they've took and threw cold water over me!"

  And then, all of a sudden, it come to me, and I laughed right out. You must have heard me over to the house, I expect. Mary did, and she come running--bless her! "You lunkhead!" I says. "You lunkhead from way back everlasting, how do they temper metal _but_ with cold water? Nice kind of steel you'd get without it, what say? Like to shave with soft iron, what say? And when you put it in the water it hisses," I says, "and so does the old gander hiss, and I know which you are most like!" I says.

  I was laughing, you rec'lect, when I come back to tell you 'twas all right; I expect you knew pretty well how twas. You were whistling "Soldier of the Cross," and that showed me.

  Well, Elder, I have had a _great time_ over to State Agricultural, I sure have. The folks have been dandy, sir, simply dandy. Folks couldn't _be_ no dandier than what they have to me. I used to think college folks and like that was _wanting_ somehow, but I found the boot was on the other leg, it was me that was a nut to think so. I've made friends--why, they are _all_ friends, I do believe. I'll tell you all about it first chance I get, but what I want to say _now_ is, Elder, _my time is up_! I've got my degree, and Mr. Bailey is satisfied, and the cottage is ready (I've put in all my vacations on it, you know, and Mr. Bailey and the selectmen have been more than kind, the neighbors too), and Mary is ready; bless her heart! and Mrs. Aymer can spare her all right, or at least she says she _can't_, but she _will_, the kiddo learning to walk and like that; and she's got Mary the dandiest outfit ever you saw, Elder! If she was the President's wife, it couldn't be no dandier. And I've been to see all those gentlemen you said, the Boards and like that, and they was all dandy too, and said "Go ahead," and _I'm going_! So name the day you can come over, Elder, and _Mary and I will be there_. The Lord is so good to me--I don't know why He is so good, except that He _is_ good. And all my life long, sir, I'll try my best to make other folks happy, I sure will. So no more but thanking you Elder, because under the Lord you really done it all sir. With a grateful heart though faltering pen I beg to convey to you, reverend and highly respected Sir, the assurance of my being

  Your most obedient humble servant PIPPIN.

  P.S. I could have written and spelled it better if I had have taken time and followed this book, the "Polite Letter Writer"; a guy loaned it to me over to State Agricultural. I began this letter with it, but it balled me up so I couldn't keep on and I'm in hopes you will excuse bad writing and spelling. But I aim at a correct and elegant style, dear Sir, in epistolary communication--green grass! maybe when I have _more time_, Elder, I can do it, but it's no use, I cannot now.

  The chaplain read this letter through twice. Then, after docketing andfiling it carefully, he rose, and tucking his coat tails under his arm,proceeded to dance gravely up and down the little bare room, singing thesong that was his high water mark of joy and triumph:

  "Green is for Ireland, Ireland, Ireland, Green is for Ireland, fiddle dal day!"

  The day was named; the day was here. Boards, councils and committeessent each a kindly delegate to the opening of the new Boys' Cottage atCyrus Poor Farm. The opening was to take place in the afternoon; eightof the ten boys were to be brought over from the city by the presidentof a certain institution; there were to be addresses and formalities.But a few delegates had been asked to come early, to attend the weddingof the young couple who were to take charge of the new cottage. Thesedelegates came smiling, full of cheerful expectation. This, they toldone another, was Lawrence Hadley's venture. Good fellow, Hadley,excellent fellow! Yes, he vouched for this young chap, absolutely.Seemed to be an extraordinary chap; State Agricultural College gone wildover him. Kind of athletic evangelist, it appeared; led 'em all by thenose, they say. This cottage was his idea; yes. And there it was; prettycottage!

  A pretty cottage indeed; red brick, like the
mother building whichsmiles friendly upon it across the green yard; its creepers alreadystarted, its flower beds already in bloom; its brass knocker defying thesun. Inside, all fresh and bright, homelike and--full! Full tooverflowing, so that the kindly delegates pause astonished, and wonderwhence all these people have found their way to so remote a district asNorth Cyrus. Who are all these people? Come and see!

  First, in the shining kitchen, which has walked bodily over, it wouldappear, from Mr. Aymer's home in the city suburb, who are these twobusy, rosy, white-capped and aproned people, man and woman? Why, theseare Mr. and Mrs. Baxter, who are preparing the wedding breakfast. Whoelse should prepare it, they would like to know? Weren't they the firstto welcome Pippin when he came to Kingdom? Wasn't he like their own, ason to them, a brother to Buster? Buster is in the shed now, "spelling"Myron at the ice cream freezer, both so eager that they are makingfive-minute shifts at the handle. Glancing through the open shed door,you may see Jacob Bailey in his Sunday suit, deep in talk with FatherO'Brien and Elder Stebbins--pleasant talk, to judge from their faces.From the barn comes Brand, he too in his decent best, threadbare butspotless, carrying in careful hands the wonderful nest of baskets onwhich his spare hours for the past year have been spent: his weddingpresent for Pippin and Mary. Look at him! He has never seen light, butwe see it in his face.

  Who is in the dining-room of the cottage? Mrs. Bailey, of course, withAunt Mandy Whetstone and Miss Pudgkins. Miss Whetstone opines that ifthere was need of city folks to do their table settin' for them, it wastime they give up! With trembling hands she is laying out on the tablethe four silver teaspoons and the gravy ladle which commonly repose withher burial money at the bottom of her trunk. The trunk is kept locked,strapped and corded, the key hangs round Miss Whetstone's neck on astring; you never know, and in case of fire, there you are! MissPudgkins has no teaspoons, but she has "loaned" for the occasion thechief ornament of her bedroom, a magnificent wreath of "preserved"funeral flowers in a glass case. The cloud on her brow at this momentcomes from Mrs. Bailey's kindly but firm refusal to use the wreath for acentrepiece.

  "Fresh flowers is rill common!" Miss Pudgkins thinks.

  One cannot say that Mr. Wisk is in any special room, because he is inthem all, following his unerring nose from dining-room to kitchen, fromkitchen to pantry, wherever the smell of food leads him; pointingindustriously, and whispering in any willing ear that that ham, sir, isthe "pick and peer of swine p'dooce the country over, let the others bewho they will." Mr. Wisk has unearthed from some mouldering portmanteauan enormous red velvet waistcoat with glass buttons, reaching halfway tohis knees. He is proud of every inch of it, and struts gloriously whenglances are cast toward it.

  Who is in the parlor? Why, who but Mrs. Appleby and Mrs. Faulkner, bothin holiday guise; both beaming with the same effulgence of joy thatlights every face in this astonishing cottage? Here in the parlor alsois the chaplain, holding in either hand Peppino and Jimmy Mather, whoare straining like puppies on a leash.

  "Keep still, youngsters!" commands the chaplain. "You nearly had meover that time. I'll tell you as soon as I see--ah! there they are!"

  The mellow note of a Gabriel horn is heard; an automobile comes dashingdown the road. It is John Aymer's new car, the "Son and Heir," and JohnAymer is driving it. Beside him sits Mrs. Aymer, all smiles and rosesand pink muslin, as becomes a matron of honor, in her arms the son andheir himself, _almost_ big enough, she thinks, for a page, (but notquite, since every third step still brings his nose to the earth). Andin the tonneau--are these two glorified spirits from another world,radiating light and joy and triumph? No! These are Pippin and Mary; shein white, with white roses in her pretty hat, he--but no one could evertell what Pippin had on.

  At sight of him the chaplain looses his hold of the two boys. They makeone bolt for the door, fall out of it together, wriggle up again, andrush like a double whirlwind to the gate, rolling under the wheels ofthe car, which has fortunately come to a standstill.

  Pippin and Mary spring down. Seeing them, the cottage becomes all eyes,guests, helpers, delegates, crowding to the windows. Most of the womenbegin to cry. Foolish creatures! What is the matter with them? And why,on the other hand, do most of the men suddenly develop head colds, andflourish handkerchiefs violently? Is it just because it is the commonway at weddings? Or is it because these two young people have beenpatient, valiant, and steadfast, and now, after the long days of theirwaiting, there is something in their faces that brings the tear as wellas the smile to all that see?

  Here they are, hand in hand. Everybody is shouting, "Pippin! Pippin!"and crowding round him and Mary. The delegates rather think everybodyhas gone suddenly mad, but they don't feel quite sane themselvessomehow. Something in the air, something in Pippin's face and voice,goes to their heads too, and they find themselves shaking hands witheverybody, and echoing the chaplain's shout,

  "Glorious! Glorious! Great guns, this is glorious!"

  The time has come. The workers hurry in, breathless but demure, theguests smooth their dresses and settle with a solemn gesture.

  "Dearly beloved--"

  Then, the seven minutes over that have made Pippin and Mary man andwife, what a rush of kisses, slaps on the back, handshakings, goodwishes, congratulations! Amid all which Mrs. Baxter and Mrs. Bailey nodto each other and steal out, beckoning to their aids. "Dish up!" theword passes round, low and emphatic. The Baxters fly, the Baileysflutter, Mr. Wisk and his pointing nose get in everybody's way andnarrowly escape upsetting Mr. Baxter as he comes proudly into thedining-room, carrying his life's masterpiece, the wedding cake. Such acake! Frosting as many inches deep as frosting can be; citron andangelica, plums and comfits--even Solomon in all his glory had no cakelike this. Mr. Baxter, in his rapture hinting at this, is promptlyrebuked by Mrs. Baxter, and told not to be profane, father; before theboy, too!

  "Breakfast is served!" says Mr. Baxter, as if he were reading theDeclaration of Independence.

  In they all come, Pippin and Mary leading off, the guests following in ajoyous mob, the delegates bringing up the rear, smiling twice as hard aswhen they came. Most extraordinary occasion! Must remember all this totell the wife. Most extraordinary people!

  They have all got round the table, no one knows how. Pippin and Mary arestanding, still hand in hand, all heaven in their faces. Pippin looksround, and his eyes fill with tears like all the rest. He bows his headfor a moment, his lips moving silently; then he looks up, and his smilelightens the room.

  Once more his eyes make the circuit of the table, every face kindlingfrom his glance. He lifts his hand, and makes his reverence like a youngbirch tree in the wind.

  "Mary and folks," says Pippin; "seein' the Lord has dealt with us notaccordin' to--I would say _my_ sins, Mary not havin' any, nor I wouldn'tpresume likely any of you dandy folks--what I would say--shall we praiseHim in song?"

  He lifts his head; his voice breaks out, solemn, jubilant, triumphant.

  "Praise God, from Whom all blessings flow!"

  * * * * *

  Transcriber's Note: Punctuation has been corrected when it was deemed tobe printer's error. 'oe' ligatures have been rewritten as non-ligatured'oe'.