CHAPTER IX
_From Miss Helen Jelliffe to Miss Jane Van Zandt_
_Dearest Auntie_:
Would you believe that the time here flies at least as fast as in NewYork during Horse-Show week, although one gets to bed earlier. I ambeginning actually to enjoy this place, strange as it may seem. Had itnot been for poor Daddy's accident I should have been the most contentedthing you ever saw. He sends his love and says I've just got to learnstenography and type-writing so that when he breaks more legs he canwrite to you daily. I believe he's forgotten the use of a pen except tosign checks with. His patience is wonderful, but he calls it being a goodsportsman. I believe there is a great deal in that word.
It is queer that one can make oneself at home in such a little hole, andfind people that are quite absorbing; I mean the natives, as well as theothers. The whole place is asleep by eight or nine, unless there has beena good catch of fish, when the little houses on the edge of the cove arefull of weary men still ripping away at the cod, that are brought in hugepiles dwindling very fast after they are spread out to dry. Daddy getsbatches of newspapers, by the uncertain mail, but finishes by nine andrequests to be permitted to snore in peace. I write hurriedly for an houror two, and finally succumb to the drowsiness you may find reflected inthese pages.
On returning from my visit to Dick Will, Daddy looked at me enquiringly,as I am his chief source of local news and the dear old man is becomingnearly as absorbed in Sweetapple Cove as in Wall Street.
"The parson has gone to pay other visits," I told him, "but I couldn'tleave you any longer. He is such a nice little man. He asked if he couldread a chapter from the Bible, and Dick said he would be very glad. Whenit was finished the man looked as if he were thinking very hard, and Mr.Barnett asked if anything were puzzling him. Then Dick asked about theice in the Sea of Galilee, because big floes were often ankle-deep and hehad often seen men who looked as if they were walking on the water. Mr.Barnett explained that there was no ice in that country."
"And what did Dick say?" asked Daddy.
"'Then how does they do for swiles?'" was what he asked, and when he wasinformed that there were no seals in Galilee Dick expressed commiserationfor the poor people.
"They are a pretty ignorant lot," commented Dad, laughing heartily.
"Few of them have the slightest chance of obtaining any education," Ireplied. "And Mr. Barnett was so nice to him, explaining things. Then hesaid nothing at all about the chastening effect of suffering. That seemsto be something these people know about. The parson just said that wewere all so glad to see him getting well again. You know, Daddy, theadmonitions of some dominies sound rather like hitting a fellow when he'sdown. Mr. Barnett isn't that kind."
"I expect that he belongs to a first-rate kind, my dear," said Daddy."There are all kinds of religions, but the only one I respect is that ofthe simple, trusting soul."
"I met Mrs. Barnett and asked her to come in to supper," I informed Dad."We have plenty of canned chicken left and Susie's brother brought in alot of beautiful trout. The man thought that fifteen cents a dozen wouldbe about the right price, but he left it to me, and I couldn't beat himdown. When he brought them Susie disdainfully informed him that fish wasgrub for poor people, and that we had lots of lovely things in cans. Iinsisted on taking the trout."
"If you continue to squander money in that way I'll have to cut down yourallowance," threatened Daddy, whereupon I reminded him that he had nevermade me one and that I had always sent the bills to him.
He was laughing. I think it's the nicest thing in the world for a girl tobe such pals with her father. I wouldn't give one of the nice grey hairson his temples for all the nobility and gentry of Europe and themillionaires of America. Then I went to get the chess-board and the dearman gave me all the pawns I wanted and proceeded to wipe the floor withme, as Harry says. We played on till it began to get dark and Susie camein with the lamp which she placed in the bracket fastened to the wall.
"Like as not it'll be rainin' soon," she announced. "The swallers isflyin' low and the wind he've turned to sou-east, so belike it'll bepourin' in a while. How's yer leg feelin' the night, Mister, an' is thereanythin' else I might be doin' fer yer?"
"No thank you, Susie," he replied.
"So long as parson's comin' I better make hot biscuits too. He's afterlikin' them, an' I kin open one o' they little white crocks o' jam. Heholds more'n what ye'd think a wee bit man the likes o' he would manageto, though he don't never fat up, an' it goes ter show as grub makesbrains with some folks, an' blubber in others."
I could make no answer to such highly scientific statements, and in a fewmoments a knock was heard at the door, upon which our handmaidenprecipitated herself.
"Come right in," she said. "Don't take notice if yer boots is muddy ferI'll be scrubbin' th' floor ter-morrer. Yer must have been ter the WiddyWalters, for they is a big puddle afore her door, even this dry weatherwe've had couple o' days. Come right in an' welcome fer everybody's gladter see yer."
Having thus amply done the honors Susie backed away and our two guestscame in. The parson actually had a dress-suit which smelt most powerfullyof camphor balls and Mrs. Barnett wore something that must have been adear little dress some years ago, in which she looked as sweet as sweetcan be. They were both smiling ever so brightly, and the little lump thatwas rising in my throat at the sight of these pathetic clothes went backto wherever is its proper place.
"Good evening, Mr. Jelliffe," said the parson, and repeated his greetingto me. "It feels a little like rain. I see that you have been playingchess. Dear me, it is such a long time since I have had a game."
I told him that this was a very imprudent remark, for which my fatherwould make him pay dearly. I am afraid his sense of humor is drawn downrather fine, or lying fallow, or something. I had to explain that hewould be captured and made to play whether he wanted to or not, whereathe beamed.
Susie came in again to get our little table ready, and brought up thebarrel-top which is her latest improvisation of a tray for Daddy's use. Irose to assist in the preparatives but Susie scorned my aid.
"Ye jist set down an' enj'y yerself," she commanded me. "'T ain't everyday one has th' parson to talk ter. I kin shift ter do it all an' it's nouse havin' a dog an' doin' yer own barkin', like the sayin' is. Th'biscuits is done brown an' th' kittle's on the bile."
She ran out again for our dishes, and Daddy turned to our two friends.
"You are looking at an abject slave and a young lady who is gettingfairly tamed, though at times she still rebels. Both of these young womenexercise authority over me all day long until the ownership of my ownsoul has become a moot question. When my leg is properly spliced again Ishall take that freak Susie to New York and exhibit her as the greatestnatural curiosity I have been able to find on the island."
Mrs. Barnett laughed, ever so pleasantly, and declared that Susie was agood girl whose intentions were of the best.
Then Daddy went on to explain to Mrs. Barnett the mystery of our presencehere. He told how our second mate had boasted of the salmon that swarmedin Sweetapple Cove, and how in a moment of folly he had decided toforsake the Tobique for that year and explore new ground. I was the onewho had suggested camping out, practically, if we could find a littlehouse, while we sent back the yacht for repairs, at St. John's. We wereexpecting it soon. The accident, of course, had to be thoroughlydescribed.
"It was a beautiful fish, madam, a perfect beauty," he went on. "A cleanrun salmon of twenty pounds, if he was an ounce, and as strong as ahorse. I had to follow him down stream and, first thing you know, Itoppled over those confounded rocks and my leg was broken. The fish wentaway, towing my best rod and reel towards the Cove."
The parson said grace and we sat down. I am happy to say that theyenjoyed Susie's culinary efforts, and we had the nicest chatty time. Justas we finished we all stopped conversing and listened. The rain waspelting down upon our little window panes and the wind came in heavygusts, while, far away, the thunder was rolli
ng. Then, after a time, weheard steps upon the little porch and I rose to open the door. It was Dr.Grant, engaged in the very necessary formality of removing his drippingoilskins.
"May I come in?" he asked.
"Please do so," I answered. "We didn't expect you back until to-morrow.My father will be delighted to see you, as will your other friends."
He came in and sat down after he had greeted everybody. The poor manlooked quite worn and harassed. It was a distinct effort that he made tospeak in his usual pleasant way, and I could see that something troubledhim.
"I think I will leave you now," he said, after a few moments. "I justwanted to find out how Mr. Jelliffe was getting on. They are expecting meat Sammy's,"
"Oh! Do rest for a moment," I told him. "You look very tired."
He sat down again, looking at his feet.
"The wind died down and the tide was bearing us away," he explained. "Wehad to take to the oars. Pulled a good fifteen miles. We were ratherhurried, for we could see this storm coming up. I'm glad we made the Covejust in time."
We could all hear the rain spattering down violently. Flashes oflightning were nearly continuous and the thunder claps increased inintensity while the wind shook our little house.
"It is all white water outside now," he said, listening. "Well, I'll beoff now."
"Yer ain't a goin' ter do nothin' o' the kind," interrupted Susie, whohad just entered with another plate. "There's plenty tea left an' ifthere ain't I kin make more. Ye jist bide there till I brings yer somegrub. Ye're dead weary an' needs it bad."
"Do stay," I sought to persuade him.
"Thank you, you are very kind," he said.
One could see that for the moment he didn't care whether he had anythingto eat or not, yet he managed to do fair justice to Susie's cooking.
"I am feeling a great deal better now," he soon announced. "I think I wasrather fagged out. We came back so early because I found I was no longerneeded. I am ever so much obliged to you. I'm afraid I am not very goodcompany to-night and I will be back early in the morning. That plastercast is getting a little loose. We will split it down to-morrow and havea good look at things."
Mrs. Barnett had risen also and was looking at him. In her eyes Idetected something that was a very sweet, motherly sympathy. Her quickintuition had shown her that something had gone entirely wrong. Her smilewas so kind and friendly that it seemed to dissolve away something hardthat had come over the surface of the man.
"Isn't there anything that we can do for you?" she asked.
"Nothing!" he exclaimed. "What can any one expect to do? What is the useof keeping on trying when one has to be forever bucking against ignoranceand stupidity? There is nothing the matter with me. Just a dead woman andbaby, that is all. Just a poor, hard-working creature that has scarcelyknown a moment of real happiness in this world. She had five little onesalready, clinging to her skirts, and a lot of stupid neighbors. I knowthe kind of advice she got from those silly old women. 'No use callin' inth' doctor. Them things comes on all right if yer has patience. Theydoctors does dreadful things. I's had seven an' here I be, an' no doctorever nigh me.' Oh! I can hear the poor fools speaking, and naturally shetook their advice. Then, of course, when she was gasping for breath andbeginning to grow cold they sent for me, thirty miles away, and when Ilanded they told me it was all over, and I found them moaning, with awild-eyed man huddled up in a corner hardly able to understand, and a lotof little ones crying for food."
He stopped and wiped his brow with his handkerchief, and looked aroundhim, without appearing to see any of us. It was like a pent-up streamthat had burst from its dam, and the flood was not yet exhausted.
"I felt like cursing the lot of them," he continued, "and giving them thetongue-lashing of their lives. But much good it would have done, and Imanaged to hold myself back! I couldn't help telling them that theyshould have sent for me three days ago, when things began to go wrong.They know well enough how to weep over their misery, but no one can makethem use their silly heads. They keep on coming with infected gurry soresas if arms could be saved after they've nearly rotted away, and send forme to see the dying, as if I could raise them from their beds."
He had stopped suddenly, and looked embarrassed.
"I beg your pardon," he said. "I should not have spoken of these things.They are all a part of the game. I daresay I ought to have gone up on thehill, back of the cliffs, and had a good bout of bad language all tomyself, where none could hear me."
Neither the parson nor his wife appeared to be the least bit shocked atthis. They knew from long experience the things that try men's souls.
"I'm glad you've spoken," I told him. "It has relieved you, I'm sure, andwe all sympathize with you."
Long ago, Aunt Jennie, you told me that a man is nothing but a grown-upboy. This one looked around the room. Daddy was smiling at him in hisdear friendly fashion, and the other two were kindliness itself.
"A fellow doesn't always take his medicine like a little man," he said,apologetically, "and you're all ever so good."
Then he left, still looking just a little bit ashamed of himself, as I'veseen fellows do in a defeated crew when they have sunk down for a momenton their sliding seats.
"I think the boy feels alone, sometimes," said Mrs. Barnett. "He hasreally a great deal to contend with. But he is a splendid fellow, and I'msorry for him. Every one loves him in Sweetapple Cove, you know."
Presently the two left us, after I had promised to go to the littlechurch on the next day. Susie had come in with a lighted lantern, clad toher feet in an ancient oilskin coat, and insisted on seeing them home.They thanked us very charmingly and I watched their departure, thereflections of the light playing over the deep puddles on the road.
Then I sat down by Daddy's bed, pondering.
"A penny for your thoughts, daughter," he said.
"I was thinking that men are very interesting," I told him. "Dr. Grantalways looks like such a strong man."
"And now you think you have discovered the feet of clay?"
"Well, it seemed quite strange, Daddy."
"I'll tell you one thing, girly," he said. "Never make the fatal error ofthinking any one is perfect. It is a mistake that young people are ratherapt to indulge in. There are little weak points, and sometimes big ones,in all of us."
"I suppose so," I assented, "but these were such dreadful things he toldus about. It seems so terrible that they should happen at all. It hasmade me feel unhappy. I thought that doctors got used to such things."
"There are a lot of things a fellow never gets used to, my dear,"answered Daddy. "This one is young yet, but he will probably never getover the sense of rebellion which comes over a man, a real man, who findshimself butting his head against stupidity and ignorance. Don't you makeany mistake about that fellow Grant! The poorest kind of chap is the onewho is always letting things slide. This is a tough, square-jawed,earnest chap, of the sort who put their hearts and souls into things,right or wrong. The man who has never felt or shown weakness is acontemptible egotist. The cocksure fools always have perfect faith inthemselves. Those two men, the big and the little one, are both prettyfine specimens, and in their own ways they are equally strong. They'remade of the right stuff."
I don't exactly know why, but I felt greatly pleased. Daddy is a mightykeen man of the world, and his judgment of others has been one of hisgreat assets.
"I wish we could help too, Daddy," I told him.
"We may, if we find a way," he answered. "I'm going to investigate thematter."
When Daddy says he is to investigate, something is going to drop, with adull thud. At least that's the way Harry Lawrence puts it. By the way,Aunt Jennie, what has become of him, and why hasn't he written to me?
Your lovingHELEN.
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