atsunrise. And then, the orchard and the fields are pretty. And I liketo see the men ploughing and working the land. And the garden stuff isall coming up so pretty and green."
"I've got a garden, too. But it's not warm enough yet to plant manyflower seeds," said Mercy.
"I suppose, when it comes warm, you can sit out in the arbor?"
"When the grape leaves get big enough to hide me--yes," said Mercy."I don't go into the garden excepting in schooltime. Then the youngones aren't always running by and tormenting me," snapped the cripple,chopping off her speech at the end.
She was a self-tormentor. It was plain that the poor child madeherself very miserable by believing that everybody possessing a strongback and lively legs felt his or her superiority to her and delightedin "showing off" before her. The girl of the Red Mill felt only pityfor a sufferer possessing such an unfortunate disposition.
She tried to turn the conversation always into pleasant channels. Sheheld Mercy's interest in the Red Mill and her life there. She told herof the broods of downy chicks that she cared for, and thebutter-making, and the household tasks she was able to help AuntAlviry about.
"And don't you go to school?" demanded Mercy.
"I am going now. I hope this spring and summer to prepare myself forentering the Cheslow High."
"And then you'll be in town every day?" said Mercy, with one of heroccasional wistful looks.
"I hope to. I don't know how I will get here. But I mean to try. MissCramp says if I'll come two or three times a week this summer, afterour school closes, that she will help me to prepare for the High Schoolexams., so I can enter at the beginning of the fall term.
"I know Miss Cramp," said Mercy. "She lives on this street. You'll beso busy then that you'll never get in to see me at all, I suppose."
"Why, I can come much oftener," cried Ruth. "Of course I will."
If Mercy was pleased by this statement, she would not show it.
"I studied to enter High," she said, after a little silence. "Butwhat's the use? I'll never go to school again. Reading books isn't anyfun. Just studying, and studying, and studying doesn't get youanywhere."
"Why, I should think that would be nice," Ruth declared. "You've gotso much chance to study. You see, you don't have to work around thehouse, or outside, and so you have all your time to devote to study. Ishould like that."
"Yah!" snarled Mercy, in her most unpleasant way. "That's what yousay. I wish you were here to try it, and I could be out to the RedMill." Then she paid more softly: "I'd like to see that mill and theriver--and all the things you tell about."
"You wait!" cried Ruth. "I'll ask Uncle Jabez and Aunt Alviry. Maybewe can fix it so you could come out and see me. Wouldn't that befine?"
"Yah!" snarled the cripple again. "I'll never get that far away fromthis old chair."
"Perhaps not; but you might bring the chair with you," returned Ruth,unshaken. "Wait till vacation. I'll not give up the idea until I'veseen if it can't be arranged."
That the thought pleased Mercy, the cripple could not deny. Her eyesshone and a warmth of unusual color appeared in her thin cheeks. Hermother came in with a tray of cakes and lemonade, and Mercy becamequite pleasant as she did the honors. Having already eaten her fill atthe doctor's, Ruth found it a little difficult to do justice to thiscollation; but she would not hurt Mercy's feelings by refusing.
The hour passed in more pleasant converse. The cripple's mind wasevidently coaxed from its wrong and unhappy thoughts. When Ruth roseto leave, promising to come again as soon as she could get into town,Mercy was plainly softened.
"You just hate to come--I know you do!" she said, but she said itwistfully. "Everybody hates to come to see me. But I don't mind havingyou come as much as I do them. Oh, yes; you can come again if youwill," and she gave Ruth her hand at parting.
Mrs. Curtis put her arms about the girl from the Red Mill and kissedher warmly at the door.
"Dear, dear!" said the cripple's mother, "how your own mother wouldhave loved you, if she had lived until now. You are like sunshine inthe house."
So, after waving her hand and smiling at the cripple in the window,Ruth went slowly back to the corner to meet Helen, and found herselfwiping some tender tears from her eyes because of Mrs. Curtis's words.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE SPELLING BEE
In spite of the fact that the big girls at the district school, led byJulia Semple, whose father was the chairman of the board of trustees,had very little to say to Ruth Fielding, and shunned her almostaltogether outside of the schoolroom, Ruth was glad of her chance tostudy and learn. She brought home no complaints to Aunt Alvirahregarding the treatment she received from the girls of her own class,and of course uncle Jabez never spoke to her about her schooling, norshe to him.
At school Ruth pleased Miss Cramp very much. She had gradually workedher way toward the top of the class--and this fact did not make herany more friends. For a new scholar to come into the school and showherself to be quicker and more thorough in her preparation forrecitations than the older scholars naturally made some of the lattermore than a little jealous.
Up to this time Ruth had never been to the big yellow house on thehill--"Overlook," as Mr. Macy Cameron called his estate. Alwayssomething had intervened when Ruth was about to go. But Helen and Tominsisted upon the very next Saturday following the girls' trip toCheslow as the date when Ruth must come to the big house to luncheon.The Camerons lived all of three miles from the Red Mill; otherwiseRuth would in all probability have been to her chum's home before.
Tom agreed to run down in the machine for his sister's guest athalf-past eleven on the day in question, and Ruth hurried her tasks asmuch as possible so as to be all ready when he appeared in the bigdrab automobile. She even rose a little earlier, and the way she flewabout the kitchen and porch at her usual Saturday morning tasks was,as Aunt Alvirah said, "a caution." But before Tom appeared Ruth saw,on one of her excursions into the yard, the old, dock-tailed, bonyhorse of Jasper Parloe drawing that gentleman in his rickety wagon upto the mill door.
"Hi, Jabe!" called Jasper, in his cracked voice. "Hi, Jabe! Here's agrindin' for ye. And for massy's sake don't take out a double toll asyou us'ally do. Remember I'm a poor man--I ain't got lashin's ofmoney like you to count ev'ry night of my life--he, he, he!"
The boy had appeared at the mill door first, and he stepped down andwould have taken the bag of grain out of the wagon, had not the millerhimself suddenly appeared and said, in his stern way:
"Let it be."
"Hi, Jabe!" cackled Jasper. "Don't be mean about it. He's younger thanme, or you. Let him shoulder the sack into the mill."
"The sack isn't coming into the mill," said Jabez, shortly.
"What? what?" cried Parloe. "You haven't retired from business; haveyou, miller? Ye ain't got so wealthy that ye ain't goin' to grind anymore?"
"I grind for those whom it pleases me to grind for," said the miller,sternly.
"Then take in the bag, boy," said Jasper, still grinning.
But Mr. Potter waved the boy away, and stood looking at Jasper withfolded arms and a heavy frown upon his face.
"Come, come, Jabe! you keep a mill. You grind for the public, youknow," said Jasper.
"I grind no more for you," rejoined the miller. "I have told you so.Get you gone, Jasper Parloe."
"No," said the latter, obstinately. "I am going to have my meal."
"Not here," said the miller.
"Now, that's all nonsense, Jabe," exclaimed Jasper Parloe, wagging hishead. "Ye know ye can't refuse me."
"I do refuse you."
"Then ye'll take the consequences, Jabe--ye'll take the consequences.Ye know very well if I say the word to Mr. Cameron--"
"Get away from here!" commanded Potter, interrupting. "I want nothingto do with you."
"You mean to dare me; do ye, Jabe?" demanded Jasper, with an evilsmile.
"I don't mean to have anything to do with a thief," growled themiller, and turning on his heel went back int
o the mill.
It was just then that Ruth spied the automobile coming down the roadwith Tom Cameron at the steering wheel. Ruth bobbed into the house ina hurry, with a single wave of her hand to Tom, for she was not yetquite ready. When she came down five minutes later, with a freshribbon in her hair and one of the new frocks that she had never wornbefore looking its very trimmest, Jasper Parloe had alighted from hisramshackle wagon and was
Ruth Fielding of the Red Mill; Or, Jasper Parloe's Secret Page 15
