CHAPTER X.
MARION'S RIDE.
Marion had no other letter from her mother during the week, and she wasso busy the whole time with her studies, music, etc., that it was notuntil Saturday afternoon that she started on her errand.
The weather had been unusually cold, and the previous night there hadbeen quite a heavy fall of snow, which, notwithstanding it was now onlythe middle of November, still remained on the ground, and the thick,gray sky gave promise that there was yet more to come; indeed beforeMarion was fairly ready the flakes began to make their appearance, andcame lazily down, as if they did not all relish being called out soearly.
But Marion did not mind wind or weather, and with her water-proof overher thick sack, the hood drawn up over her head, and her feet encased inrubbers, she set out for her long walk in the most excellent spirits.
Florence went to the door with her and urged her to take an umbrella,but Marion laughed at the idea, saying, "It was only a little flurry andwould be over in a minute;" but before she had reached Aunt Bettie's shewished she had taken Florence's advice, for the snow came down thickerand faster, beating against her face, and almost blinding her, so thatit was with great difficulty that she could see her way, and it was atleast an hour before she arrived at the farm-house.
She went round to the back of the house, and without knocking lifted thelatch of the door, and entered a sort of shed or unplastered room,which in summer was used as a kitchen, but which now served as awood-shed.
"Aunt Bettie," cried Marion, "are you there?" and she stamped her feet,and shook her clothes to get rid of the snow which covered her from headto foot.
"For the goodness' sakes, who's that?" exclaimed Aunt Bettie as shejumped up from her seat by the kitchen fire, where she had fallen asleepover her knitting, and hurried into the outer room.
"Why, it's only me, auntie, to be sure," said Marion.
"Marion Berkley! well, did I ever! but massy me," as she took hold ofMarion's water-proof, "you're as wet as a drownded rat; I'd no idee itsnowed so hard!"
"Oh, it's only wet on the outside; _I'm_ not wet a bit;" and Marion tookoff her water-proof and hung it over a chair to dry, pulling off herrubbers and placing them on the floor beside it; "but why don't you askme what I came for, auntie?"
"Wall, child, to tell the truth, I was so s'prised to see yer that Ididn't think anything 'bout what yer come for, and I aint going to asknuther, 'till you jist seat yourself in front o' that fire and toastthem feet o' yourn. I never see sich a child! To think o' your startin'out sich weather's this to come and see me!"
"It didn't snow much when I left school, and I hadn't the least idea itwould be such a storm; it's so early, you know. Florence wanted me tobring an umbrella, but I wouldn't; I never will carry one if I can helpit."
"Wall, it is a reg'lar out-and-outer," exclaimed Aunt Bettie, as shestood peering through the window at the storm; "winter's sot in airlythis time, an' no mistake. I tell you what," as she came back to thefire and seated herself beside Marion, "if you've come for anythingpertickler, I guess you better tell it right away, fur it won't do furyou to stop long, it gathers so."
"Well, I did come for something particular, auntie, but you must notexpect too much;" and Marion, who saw that Aunt Bettie was unusuallyexcited, notwithstanding she tried to appear composed, laid her hand onher arm in a soothing, caressing way. "It is only a little bit ofcomfort for you, not any real hope, except that you will perhaps feelencouraged to know that you have friends in the city looking for yourdaughter, and although I do not know anything certain about her, I thinkmamma has got hold of some clue. But I'll read you what she says; youknow I promised to write her, and I did, and this is her answer."
Aunt Bettie signed for Marion to go on; she was too much moved to speak,although her emotion was caused quite as much by gratitude as anxiety,for she had waited so long, and up to this time in such perfect silence,that hope had almost died out within her, and she really did not expectany joyful tidings.
At the conclusion of the letter Marion looked up, almost dreading tomeet Aunt Bettie's glance, feeling sure that it must be one ofdisappointment; but, contrary to her expectations, the good woman's facewas positively beaming through her tears, as she exclaimed in an almostjoyful tone:--
"The Lord bless you, Miss Marion, and your mother too, for you're a pairof Christians if there ever was one! I'm jist sure that that ArabellaDobbs is my Jemimy; an' I'll tell yer why I think so. Yer see the galthat set my darter up to goin' to Boston used to visit some o' herkinfolk down in the village, an' that's how she and Jemimy gotacquainted; she put it into my gal's head that _Jemimy_ was an awfulcountry kind of a name,--her own was Belindy,--and she always calledher Arabella, an' jist as like as not Jemimy was fool enough to go an'give _that_ as her name. I declare she orter been ashamed of herself!"and Mrs. Dobbs' indignation so far got the better of her grief, that ifMiss Jemimy had been there in the flesh it is quite probable she wouldhave received at least a good scolding.
"Why, auntie, if that is so," replied Marion, "I've no doubt it's thesame girl; but how do you suppose she happened to go to East Bostoninstead of Boston?"
"Oh, like's not that Belindy Beers lived in East Boston, and jist saidBoston 'cause she thought 'twas smarter. I never could bear that galanyhow, an' if it hadn't been for her my darter'd been here now."
"Well, you know I haven't really found her yet," said Marion, who wasafraid that Aunt Bettie's ire had caused her to lose sight of that fact;"we only have some _probability_ of finding out where she is."
"I know, dear, I know all that, but I do feel better; it does seem as ifthere couldn't be two sich good creeturs as you an' your mother doin'your best to help me, and no good to come of it. 'T any rate I aintgoin' to despond any more; it's like flyin' in the face o' Providence,and until I hear wus news I shall jist hope for the best."
"Aunt Bettie, I'm glad enough to hear you say so; I _can't_ help feelingvery hopeful myself, and I'm glad you can feel the same."
"Well, child, I think it's the right way arter all; 'taint my naterusually to be very despondent, but somehow I got entirely discouraged;but _I should_ be an ungrateful woman enough if I didn't thank you overand over again. I can't speak it all, but I feel it jist the same."
"Indeed, auntie, it is not me, but mamma, that you must thank. I havedone nothing but write to her, and she has done all the work."
"Yes, and how would she have known it, if it hadn't been for you? Ithank her, the Lord knows I do, from the bottom of my heart, but it'sall owin' to you, child, nevertheless. If you hadn't had quick eyes tosee into my troubles, and a warm heart to put you up to helpin' me, whatwould she a' known about it? No, no, dear, you're the fust one I owe mythanks to, and whether I ever find Jemimy again or not, I shall alwayslove you, and bless you for what you've done for me so long's I live."
And Marion knew that Aunt Bettie meant every word she said, and she didnot again try to alter her opinion. It was pleasant indeed to know thatthere was any one who could have such a high regard for her; and with awarmth about her heart which it was pleasant to feel, and a light in hereyes which it would certainly have done any one good to see, she sattalking with Mrs. Dobbs, both of them oblivious to the fact that timewas fast slipping away, until, upon looking up, Marion was astonished tosee that it was long after four o'clock.
"Why, auntie!" she exclaimed, "see how dark it is growing; we've beentalking nearly an hour. I must hurry off this minute, or I shall befrightened to death before I get home."
"Why, sure enough, it's most five o'clock! I'd no idee of it. But massysakes!" cried Aunt Bettie as she went to the window, "jest come here andlook out! Why, you can't walk home in this snow nohow; why, it's up toyour ankles! I never see snow gather so quick in my life."
Marion went to the window, and took a survey of the scene. It certainlydid not look very promising. The snow had gathered so rapidly that theroads were covered several inches deep, and darkness appeared to be fastapproaching. Marion looked dec
idedly troubled; but there was no help forit; go she must; for she knew that Miss Stiefbach would be very muchworried about her; so putting on as good a face as possible she said:--
"Well, auntie, I haven't a moment to spare; it is really quite dark, andit will take me longer to go than it did to come;" and Marion washurrying out of the room to get her water-proof when Aunt Bettie caughthold of her:--
"You jest set down in that cheer, and don't you stir out of it till Itell yer you may! Do you s'pose I'm goin' to send you home afoot whenit's sich walkin's this? No; not if my name's Sarey Ann Dobbs. You jestwait, and you shall have one sleigh-ride this year if you don't ever getanother."
"Aunt Bettie, what do you mean?" exclaimed Marion.
"You jest wait, and you'll see what I mean." Auntie went into the outerroom, and opening the door shouted at the very top of her lungs in ashrill, high key: "Jabe! Jabe Dobbs, be you there?" but Jabe did notrespond to the maternal call. "Jabe! Ja-a-a-be!" Then in an undertone,"Plague take that boy! he's the laziest creetur I ever did see!"
Presently there came a reply from one of the outside sheds in a slow,drawling voice; very much as if the owner of it had heard the firstsummons, but was not in a great hurry to heed it:--
"H-e-r-e!"
"Wall, come in this minit, and don't keep me standin' here holdin' thisdoor open any longer!"
In a few moments, but in what seemed to Marion almost an eternity, heavysteps were heard on the flagstone, and directly after, a youth of aboutsixteen made his appearance in the door-way, and slowly knocking thesnow off his boots, asked in the same drawling tone:--
"What do yer want?"
"You come inside, and I'll tell yer," replied his mother.
"Well, yer might o'--" but catching sight of Marion his head went down,and Jabe stood sheepishly twirling his hat in his hands, shuffling fromone foot to the other, apparently too bashful for speech.
"Don't stan' there twirlin' yer hat, and lookin' like a great idiot, butjest step round and be spry. Did you get down the big sleigh t'other daywhen I told yer to?"
Jabe nodded assent.
"Well, it's a wonder! Now you go out and tackle up Shadrack as quick asever you can, and hev him round to the door, less'n no time; noshillyshallyin!"
"What shall I put him into arter I get him tackled?" asked the hopefulyouth, with a momentary glance at Marion from under his shaggy eyebrows.
"Why, put him into the sleigh, to be sure; what'd you s'pose?"
"Well, you didn't tell me, an' I didn't know but p'r'aps she was goin'to ride him," replied Jabe, with another glance at Marion, which almostupset her gravity.
"You didn't think any such a thing, and you know you didn't! You're todrive Miss Marion back to school, and you jest hurry out; and don't letthe grass grow under yer feet either!"
"Aint much danger," replied Jabe, as he shuffled off; "it's most throughsproutin' fur this year, and 'taint quite ready fur next."
"Now, Miss Marion, did you _ever_ see sech a boy as that?" exclaimedAunt Bettie in righteous indignation; "he worries my life out of me!"
"What is the matter with him?" asked Marion, who was intensely amused atthe ridiculous-looking object she had just seen, and his comical,awkward ways; "there doesn't seem to be anything very bad about him."
"Bad! of course there isn't, but he _is_ so powerful slow! There's nodoin' nothin' with him; he's too lazy to work, and he's too lazy tostudy. But there's one thing, he's honest as he ken be, and I rally dothink he does set consid'rable store by me; though he _does_ try mypatience awfully."
"Of course he thinks a great deal of you," replied Marion; "he's just ata lazy age now. I dare say he'll get over it, and prove a great comfortto you one of these days."
"Oh, he's a comfort now, in a sort of a way. He's stiddy enough; butlaws! he's too lazy to be anything else."
"He'll wake up yet, auntie, see if he doesn't. There's a twinkle in hiseyes that shows he's nobody's fool."
"Oh, I never supposed he was quite as bad's that; but he haint found hisniche yet; when he does I s'pose he'll fit into it as tight as apertater does its skin."
In much shorter time than Marion had expected, judging from what she hadseen of Jabe's activity, the jingle of bells was heard, and directlyafter, the musical voice of Mrs. Dobbs' young hopeful called out:--
"I'm ready if you be!"
Aunt Bettie opened the door, her face positively radiant with smiles andthe pleasure she felt at being able to give Marion a ride.
As Marion's eyes beheld the equipage that stood ready for her use, itmust be confessed that her first sensation was anything but agreeable.In common with most girls of her age, and I might say with girlsconsiderably older than herself, she had a great admiration for handsomehorses, elegant carriages, and a driver in keeping with the rest of theestablishment.
Certainly no one could say, however, that her driver was not perfectlyin keeping with the establishment of which he evidently felt extremelyproud; for he sat on the front seat, holding the reins in both hands, asif poor Shadrack was a four-in-hand team, or at least a tandem with avery refractory leader.
The sleigh itself was of such peculiar structure, that it would havebeen almost impossible to have decided at what ancient period it musthave been made. In shape, it most resembled that elegant vehiclecommonly known as a "pung," excepting that it boasted of two seats, anda back that nearly reached the top of Marion's head. Its color was abeautiful pea-green, ornamented with various scrolls and devices inbright yellow, which might have been a combination of the paternal andmaternal crests of Jabe's ancestors, but looked wonderfully likesquash-vines.
Around old Shadrack's neck was hung a string of iron bells about thesize of small cannon-balls, which jingled most melodiously every time hemoved. But Marion's good sense would not allow her to yield to anyfeeling of mortification which she might feel at the idea of appearingat school in such a turn-out. She only thought of Aunt Bettie's kindnessin ordering out her old horse on such an unprecedented occasion; andthanking her warmly and sincerely for her thoughtfulness, she steppedinto the sleigh and was driven off by Jabe, who flourished the whip overShadrack's ears, quite regardless of his mother's warning, "not to letthe critter trot fast, 'cause 'twas heavy haulin'; the snow was sosoggy."
For some time they jogged along, the silence only broken by themonotonous jingle of the bells. It had stopped snowing, and the sky wasquite bright in the west, making it much lighter than it was earlier inthe afternoon; touching up the trees with a rosy light, and casting asoft glow on the fields, as they passed along.
Marion forgot everything else in the pleasure of watching the fadinglight, and was quite oblivious to the existence of Jabe, until she wasroused from her silent observations by a mild "ger-lang!" which remindedher that it certainly was her duty to make herself agreeable to herescort.
She hardly knew what to say to him, but she ventured to remark "that thehorse did not look as if he was worked very hard."
"Worked hard!" exclaimed Jabe. "Lord, he don't know what work is! I justwish I had as easy a time as Shadrack."
"What in the world did you name him Shadrack for?" exclaimed Marion.
"Me!" replied Jabe, turning round slowly and looking at Marion out ofthe corner of his eye, "'twant none o' my doin's, 'twas father's; heallus liked something different from anybody else, and that time I thinkhe hit it."
"Yes, I think he did," replied Marion, smiling in spite of herself; thenin a soberer tone she asked, "Do you remember your father, Jabe?"
"No, he died 'fore I was two years old."
"Don't you wish he could have lived?"
"Well now, that depends on circumstances," replied Jabe in adeliberating tone; "if he was such a fellow for work as the marm, Ican't say as I _should_ be very particular 'bout havin' him round."
"Why, Jabe Dobbs!" exclaimed Marion, striving to conceal her laughter,"aren't you ashamed of yourself? I dare say it would be better for you,if your mother made you work a great deal harder than she does."
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br /> "O Lord! Miss Marion!" cried Jabe, in the most horrified tone, but witha twinkle in his eyes which Marion fully appreciated; "if she did Icouldn't live nohow. You see, work and I don't hitch hosses; we weren'tmeant to go 'longside the same pole; and if one of us has got to stan'still, I think it might's well be me, and let _work_ go."
At this Marion laughed outright, but not a muscle of his face did Jabemove, and if it had not been for that sly twinkle in his eye when helifted it to Marion's face one would have thought he was solving someweighty problem.
He sat round sideways, one leg on the seat, and the reins now hangingloosely in his hands, as Shadrack jogged lazily on, while he wasevidently highly pleased and flattered by Marion's attention.
"Well, Jabe," continued Marion, "perhaps, if you don't like to work, youlike to study. Do you ever go to school?"
"I went last winter by spells, an' I s'pose I shall go this winter too."
"Do you like it?" asked Marion; "what do you like best,--spelling?"
"Spelling," repeated Jabe, in a ruminating tone,--"spelling, no, I don'tlike it much, that is, I don't like it the way they larn you down there.I think p'r'aps if they'd let a feller follow his own fashion I mightlike it; but they put in so many letters that there aint no kind o'sense in havin', that it jest confuses me, an' so I ginerally spellsaccordin' to fancy."
"O Jabe!" replied Marion, "that will never do in the world; but perhapsyou like arithmetic better."
"'Rithmetic!" and Jabe fairly dropped the reins and struck an emphaticblow on his knee, as he exclaimed again: "'rithmetic! I tell you _there_you got me. If there is anything I do hate on the face o' this airth,it's 'rithmetic! Spellin's bad enough, but 'rithmetic's wus. When youset me to doin' a sum it's jest like the feller that had to go throughthe drill for the whole regiment; he got on fust-rate till they told himto go form a holler-square; but he said _that_ 'wrenched him awfully.'"
"O Jabe! Jabe!" cried Marion, now fairly convulsed with laughter, "I amafraid you will never make much of a scholar anyway. But, indeed, youought to try and do better; just think what a comfort you might be toyour mother, if you would only----But stop the horse, stop the horse aminute; I've got an idea!"
Jabe drew up the reins with a sudden jerk, and looked at Marion as ifshe had scattered every idea he ever possessed.
"You jump out!" she exclaimed; "no, you needn't do that; just help meover on to the front seat, and then you climb on to the back. I'm goingto drive up to school in style."
Jabe dropped the reins, and did as he was told, with a very bewilderedexpression on his great, round face, as he looked at Marion very much asif he doubted her sanity; but she went on talking very fast as shetucked in the almost worn-out robe, and took the reins in her hands.
"Don't you see, we're almost to the school, and everybody will be on thelookout for me; so I want to dash up to the door in very stunningfashion. Now sit up straight; fold your arms; hold your headup;--so,--that's it; you're my tiger; that means the groom, boy, youknow, who sits behind when the gentleman drives. Now, when I stop thehorse, you jump out just as quick as ever you can and rush to his head,as if you thought he wouldn't stand still long enough for me to getout. Do you understand?"
"Yes," replied Jabe, who sat as straight as a ramrod, his eyes twinklingunder his bushy, fur cap, and his mouth stretched from ear to ear. If hedidn't love work, he certainly did a good joke, and he entered fullyinto the spirit of the thing.
"Well, now, keep sober, and don't forget what I told you."
Marion braced her feet against the dasher; threw back her shoulders;extended her arms at full length, and gave poor old Shadrack such atremendous "cut" with the whip that he sprang forward as if forty fiendswere after him; but Marion was used to driving, and only flourished theold wooden-handled ox-whip, and urged him on the faster.
Everything happened precisely as Marion wished. Of course Miss Stiefbachhad become considerably alarmed at her long absence, and every one hadcome into the front of the house, and all were looking out for her,their faces pressed up against the window-panes as they crowdedtogether.
Just as Marion came in sight some one opened the front door; this waswhat she wanted. Giving the whip an extra flourish, and saying in anundertone to Jabe, "Be ready," she dashed up to the gate, and suddenlydrew the reins up short. Poor Shadrack, being thus brought to a veryunexpected stand-still, threw his head up in the air, and planted hisfore feet straight out in front of him, in a most warlike attitude.Almost before they stopped Jabe sprang out and grasped the poor pantingbeast by the head, as Marion threw the reins down, and stepping to theground exclaimed in a pompous tone, loud enough to be heard by thosestanding in the door-way, "Rub him down well, Thomas, and give him anextra measure of oats;" then, as she turned into the gate, "and Thomas,have the tandem at the door in the cutter, to-morrow-morning at ten."
Jabe, not to be outdone, touched his hat, sprang on to the seat, andwhisked Shadrack round and up the road, at a pace that would have madehis mother hold up her hands in holy horror.
"Why, Marion Berkley, where _have_ you been?" exclaimed a chorus ofvoices, Miss Stiefbach's actually among the number.
"I've been taking an airing on the Western Avenue. How do you like myturn-out? Neat but not gaudy, isn't it?"
"Well, Marion, I don't know what you will do next," said Miss Christine;"but where have you really been?"
"Marion, I must ask you to give a strict account of yourself," said MissStiefbach, who, now that she had recovered from her unusual surprise andalarm, was her own stately self again. Whereupon Marion gave a brief andsatisfactory history of her afternoon's expedition, embellishing it withsundry remarks and expressions of her own, which rendered it highlyentertaining to her younger hearers; and I might say to all but MissStiefbach, for Miss Christine joined heartily in the general laugh atMarion's first sleigh-ride of the season.
Marion Berkley: A Story for Girls Page 10
