|
Citation |
- Permanent Link:
- https://ufdc.ufl.edu/UF00085064/00001
Material Information
- Title:
- Max and Zan and Nicodemus, or, A silver teaspoon and a linen napkin
- Added title page title:
- Silver teaspoon and a linen napkin
- Creator:
- Fisher, Melissa Anne Haynie ( Author, Primary )
Shuey, W. J ( Publisher )
- Place of Publication:
- Dayton Ohio
- Publisher:
- W.J. Shuey
- Publication Date:
- 1896
- Language:
- English
- Physical Description:
- 119 p. ; 19 cm.
Subjects
- Subjects / Keywords:
- People with disabilities -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh )
Generosity -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) Invalids -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) Orphans -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) African Americans -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) Slavery -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) Poverty -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) Brothers and sisters -- Juvenile fiction ( lcsh ) Baldwin -- 1896
- Genre:
- novel ( marcgt )
- Spatial Coverage:
- United States -- Ohio -- Dayton
- Target Audience:
- juvenile ( marctarget )
Notes
- Summary:
- A young boy discovers a run-away slave who has been kept in ignorance of his freedom eighteen years after the Emancipation Proclamation.
- General Note:
- Title page printed in red and black.
- Statement of Responsibility:
- by Mrs. M.A. Haynie Fisher.
Record Information
- Source Institution:
- University of Florida
- Holding Location:
- University of Florida
- Rights Management:
- This item is presumed to be in the public domain. The University of Florida George A. Smathers Libraries respect the intellectual property rights of others and do not claim any copyright interest in this item. Users of this work have responsibility for determining copyright status prior to reusing, publishing or reproducing this item for purposes other than what is allowed by fair use or other copyright exemptions. Any reuse of this item in excess of fair use or other copyright exemptions may require permission of the copyright holder. The Smathers Libraries would like to learn more about this item and invite individuals or organizations to contact The Department of Special and Area Studies Collections (special@uflib.ufl.edu) with any additional information they can provide.
- Resource Identifier:
- 026690822 ( ALEPH )
ALG6500 ( NOTIS ) 12006501 ( OCLC )
|
Downloads |
This item has the following downloads:
|
Full Text |
The Baldwin Library
Ww
| sxe NICODEMUS |
W| or,ASilver Teaspoon
And A Linen Napkin
By Mrs. M. A. Haynie Fisher :
W. J. Shuey, Publisher
Dayton, Ohio, 1396
CoPYRIGHT, 1896
By W. J. SHUEY, PUBLISHER
All rights reserved
PART II
CHAPTER III
A VERY innocent little trick was
that by which Zan brought to her
mother’s notice the teaspoon and the
napkin.
“Mammy,†she said, “we didn’t tell
you we brought comp’ny home with us,
did we? You’ll have a reg’lar M.D.
side of you at dinner, an’ a handmaid
to wait on you.â€
And as she spoke she laid the nap-
kin by her mother’s plate and pointed
to the embroidered initials, ‘“‘M. D.,†in
the corner; then, setting a cup of cof-
fee on the other side, placed the tea-
spoon in the saucer and said, “‘That’s
Ruth, Mammy, an’ I reckon coffee ‘11
taste powerful good when such a pretty
maid as that gives it to you.â€
42
War ands San and Vicodemus 43
Then the whole story of the box was
more fully told, together with the other
incidents of the short journey, includ-
ing the mystery of the string of fish.
The mention of the fish brought to
mind the flowers, and Zan ran for them
to the kitchen, where she had placed
them in a dish of fresh water.
‘““Ain’t they pretty, Mammy? An’
they look so quiet an’ good, but you
don’t know how mischeevious they are.
The very prettiest ones are always the
worst to hide where I can’t get ’em
’thout tearin’ my clo’es.â€â€™
In such fashion was confession made
of what the child’s tender conscience
would not allow her to conceal, al-
though a rent in even her best dress
seemed no very grave matter to her.
The dress was brought out and the
torn sleeve exhibited.
“But you needn’t mend it, Mammy,
’cause I don’t care, an’ it’s ’most sum-
mer now, an’ I won’t take cold.†And,
44 Way and San and Wicodemus
of course, the merry laugh followed, as
usual,—the laugh that almost discour-
aged the mother, to whom, neverthe-
less, it was the sweetest music in the
world.
“Mamma, isn’t that Zan’s best
dress?†asked Max.
“Yes, my son. It’s not a very nice
one, but it is her best.â€
Max looked inquiringly at his sister.
More merrily than ever, if possible, her
laugh rang out as she repeated her for-
mer assertion, “ No, ’t ain’t,†and ran to
the foot of the bed and drew from
beneath it a little, old-fashioned hair-
covered trunk and, lifting the lid, took
from it a carefully folded garment of a
delicate pink color. Unfolding this,
she held up what proved to be alittle
dress about large enough for a child
two years old.
“There, Mr. Max, that’s my best
dress,†and she danced across the floor
and patted his cheek, saying, ‘You
War and San and VWicodsemus 45
thought I was tellin’ a story, didn’t
you?â€
Then she threw the little garment
over his head and drew it closely about
his neck, then skipped and danced
about him in the greatest glee, appeal-
ing to ‘““mammy†to say if it wasn’t a
beautiful child. And the big boy
humored her fancy by first cooing
baby fashion and then with wide-open
mouth pretending to cry. Presently,
however, he caught Zan and held her
fast, and in mock-serious tones said,
“Now, Susanna Barnes, I’m going to
keep you still for five minutes while
mammy gives you a lesson on story-
telling.â€
“Story-telling? ’T wasn’t telling a
story. This zs my dress, an’ it’s bet-
ter ’n my other.â€
“But, daughter,†said the gentle
mother, ““making people believe what
is not true, even if a lie is not told, is a
dangerous thing to do.â€
46 War and San and VWicodemus
“Why, Mammy, it was only fun, an’
I knowed Max would find out what I
meant.â€
“But sometime maybe some one will
fail to learn your meaning, and then
my little girl will be regarded as un-
truthful.â€
“That ’s so, Mammy, an’ I’ll be
more careful. Now Max, lemme go.â€
“Yes, Max, Zan must wash the
dishes now and sweep the floor. You
know it wasn’t done this morning be-
cause you started so early.â€
‘““O Mammy, I’m goin’ to carry the
dishes to the kitchen an’ shut the door
an’ mebbe the fairies ‘11 wash ’em. I
reckon they ’d’s lief help me as Max,
an’ I just know ’t was them ’t caught
his fish for im.â€
“No, daughter—.†But Susanna, for
that was Zan’s name as written in the
old family Bible, was off with a load of
dishes, and by the time she returned
her mother had begun to realize that
War and San and WWicodemus 47
the unwonted excitement of the hour
had been too much for her strength,
and felt constrained to defer her lesson
to another time. Oh! what a puzzle it
was to her to know how to deal with
the exuberance of life in her child
without marring what she but wished
to mold and shape and fashion into
greater loveliness.
One after another, perplexing prob-
lems presented themselves for solution,
to none of which she had yet found the
key, although they had engaged her
thoughtful attention daily for many
months. One look about the untidy
room suggested anew the knottiest
question of them all. Should Zan be
permitted to become confirmed in her
present indifference to disorder and un-
tidiness? Or, on the other hand,
should the child’s powers be unduly
taxed to perform tasks that called for
the full strength of a woman? Oh,
for wisdom to plan for the best good
48 War and San and Wicodemus
of her child! and oh, for help to find
some better way than any she had yet
been able to devise!
One little gleam of light appeared
an hour later, when Zan, more sober
than usual, sat down by her mother’s
side with the napkin in her hand. She
spread it out on the bed and called at-
tention to each figure in the pattern,
then, after a long silence, said: “O
Mamma, it zs so pretty an’ white. I
was just wishin’ your pillows was as
white, an’ your sheets, an’ all our clo’es.
I wish ’t I knowed how they made it so
white.â€
She looked at it long and wistfully,
her mother, meanwhile, thinking,
thinking how she might best improve
this lesson— might open more widely
the eyes of the little girl to the beauty
of cleanliness. She waited, and pres-
ently little Susanna turned her dreamy
gaze from the napkin on the bed to the
box containing the spoon in her lap.
War and San and Wicodemus 49
Opening and carefully unwrapping it,
she held it up and looked and looked asif
she never could be satisfied with looking,
then turned it over and read the name
on the back. ‘Then she said, with just
a little twinkle in hereye: ‘‘An’ here’s
Ruth, Mammy; don’t look’s if she
b’longed here, does she? I’m ’fraid
shell get homesick, an’ M. D. too.â€
A happy thought occurred to Mrs.
Barnes. She would humor the child’s
fancies; maybe she had erred in trying
to eradicate the highly imaginative ten-
dency of the young mind. Maybe it
was a God-given faculty and therefore
good. So she said: “ Daughter, when
people have company, it is their duty
to try to make it pleasant for them, to
try to make them feel at home. These
strangers you brought home with you
will have to stay with us; they can’t
get back to their old home, so we must
see what we can do to make their new
home pleasant.â€
4
50 War and San and Wicodsemus
Zan looked up in surprise. It wasa
new experience to have her fancies
adopted. The impulsive, affectionate
little heart was grateful and so happy.
“Oh, Mammy!†she said, as she
clasped the thin hand of her mother in
both of her own and raised and gently
pressed it to her cheek; ‘I know they
feel better a’ready. °F you went visit-
in’, an’ the people didn’t let on they
knowed you was anybody, wouldn’t
you feel bad? But, Mammy, what can
I do to make ’em feel at home? I
don’t know how to make clo’es white.â€
“No, daughter, and you are not
strong enough if you did know how.
But let’s look around and see if there
isn’t something we can do. First, I
would put Ruth and M. D. in your
little trunk. Well say they have
gone to their room to rest. Now look
all around and see if there is any im-
provement you can make.â€
“T know what you’re thinkin’ of,
War and San and WWicodemus 51
Mammy; I forgot to hang up my dress
an’ put away my hat.â€
“There! that looks better. Now try
again.â€
“Ha, ha, ha!†and Zan pointed to
the corners of the room and to the
ceiling. “IT reckon them spiders’ webs
ain’t much ’count any more for ketchin’
flies; they ’re so black the flies can see
’em too plain. They ain’t like the
pretty ones outdoors, shinin’ so bright
in the sun.â€
It was not long until the busy little
hands had swept away every unsightly
cobweb, and her mother’s praises had
made her very happy. ‘Then the floor
was swept, but with not very satisfac-
tory results. A look of perplexity came
over the face of the child as she, more
slowly than her wont, walked back and
forth across the room, then, pausing,
stood in the middle of the floor and
surveyed it critically.
“Mammy,†she said, “it don’t pear
52 = War and San and WWicodemus
’s if I’d ever looked at this floor right
before. I always thought ’t was clean
when I’d swep’ it, but ’t ain’t; it’s
got dirty spots all over it. I reckon it
ought to be scoured.â€
“Yes, dear, it needs scouring, and
maybe when Max has time he’ll help
and we can have it done. If Cousin
Janey comes, she ’ll expect to see it
clean. You don’t remember your Aunt
Emma, Zan. You were only a baby
when we saw her last. She is a very
neat housekeeper.â€
““So are you, pappy says. Wonder
*£ I?ll be when I’m a woman.â€
“Ah, I wonder!†thought the mother,
but she deemed it not wise to dwell
longer on the subject at this time. In-
stead, she said, “Don’t you want to sit
down now and read something out of
the papers that came with your box?â€
Two of the papers were dailies, and
contained nothing to interest a little
girl like Zan, but the third happened
War and San and Wicodsemus 53
to be a weekly, with a household de-
partment, and a young people’s column,
and a farmer’s page, and in it she
found much to interest her, and when
Max came from his work at supper
time she had wonderful things to tell
him. But to him the most surprising
of all was her proposition to scour the
floor, with his help. He looked inquir-
ingly at his mother, and seeing her
look of content, and readily interpret-
ing her smile of pleasure, he promptly
responded to Zan’s request.
“Ves, siree, little woman, I reckon I
will help, an’ we’ll make it so clean
mammy wouldn’t be afraid to eat off
Lee
“Kat off it?†said Zan; “now I
wonder if things wouldn’t taste better
if the table was scoured too.†‘Too late
then before the evening meal, she re-
solved that to-morrow she would try
the virtue of sand and soap on the
table.
54 War and San and WWicodemus
A dainty meal was Mrs. Barnes’s tea
that evening, with the unwonted luxury
of a dish of toast, made, under her direc-
tion, of the buttered bread from the
lunch-box. Each slice was held with
the long toasting-fork, butter side up,
over a bed of glowing coals till the
under side was brown and the butter
melted. The children would indulge
in but a morsel each, declaring that
corn bread suited them better. Then
how delicious was the cup of fragrant
sassafras tea, sweetened with white
sugar found also in the box, in a little
paper sack, and mistaken at first for
salt by Zan, who. scarcely knew that
sugar could be white.
When the simple meal was ready,
the teaspoon and napkin were again
brought out and Max was informed
why the cobwebs had been cleared
away and the floor was to be scoured.
“Cause mammy says ’t ain’t nice to
let comp’ny get homesick, an’ mebbe
War and San and WWicodemus 55
they would if things wasn’t clean,
’cause they don’t look ’s if they was
used to dirt.â€
A happy thought seemed to strike
the little girl, and she said, ‘‘Mebbe
they ’re like me, though, an’ druther
be out of doors, where they can see the
mountains ’n’ trees ’n’ flowers ’n’ so
many pretty things. I’ll show ’em
old Chilhowee right now,†and she
held the teaspoon and napkin up be-
fore the window by which she was
sitting, from which there was, indeed,
a grand view of the mountain she
named. Apparently not satisfied, she
sprang to her feet and rushed out of
the door, and after a short absence
came slowly in again. In answer to
her mother’s unspoken question she
said, “I ’most wish ’t I hadn’t let ’em
look out o’ the window, Mammy; I
most heard ’em say, ‘’T ain’t clean,’
an’ when I took ’em out an’ said, ‘It
don’t make much difference ’bout the
560 War and San and WWicodemus
window, ’cause we can always go out-
side an’ see better,’ I reckon it must ’a’
been Ruth ’t made me think o’ you, ’t
can’t never get out to see better. I’m
goin’ to wash the windows right away.â€
“Tt will be very nice to have them
washed, daughter, but won’t it be bet-
ter to wait till to-morrow? ‘The even-
ing work must be done now.â€
The windows were washed next day,
and when the work was done and Zan
was admiring the result, she said,
“They look nice, Mammy, but I
wish ’t we could live outdoors all the
time, like the birds an’ squir’ls. It’s
so much prettier, an’ they wouldn’t be
any windows to wash or floors to scour.â€
‘Then she laughed as she said, “I reck-
on it ’s cause I like outdoors so well ’t I
let it get so dirty in the house. It’s ad/
cirtoutthere. The mountain’sallrocks
an’ dirt, an’ the garden ’s dirt, an’ the
fields an’ the yard an’ the road. Could-
n’t get along ’thout dirt out there.â€
War and San and Micodsemus 57
Mamma only smiled in answer.
Somehow her heart was more at rest
in regard to her little girl than it had
been for many and many a day before.
From long and careful study she under-
stood the nature of her child, and knew
what interpretation to put upon each
sign of growth.
Perhaps because Zan’s moral nature
was so pure and sweet, her mind so
keen and active, her disposition so
amiable, the mother exaggerated her
few defects and, no doubt, dwelt upon
them almost morbidly, realizing as she
did that in the main they resulted from
the lack of that motherly care which
her invalid state rendered it impossible
for her to exercise over the child. But
now how strange a thing had come to
pass. In the guise of a napkin and a
spoon the little one had found teachers
from whom she was learning lessons
that no other influence had been suffi-
ciently powerful to instill into her mind.
58 War and San and VWicodsemus
And as time passed, Mrs. Barnes had
no occasion to reverse her judgment as
to the nature of the awakening ex-
perienced by the young mind on that
bright spring day.
‘The housekeeping in the little moun-
tain home was not revolutionized all in
a day, but even before the return of
Mr. Barnes, three weeks after he left
home, such a change had been wrought
as to excite his wonder, and it was
many a day before he fully compre-
hended how it had been brought about.
But before their father’s return,
another red-letter day had occurred in
the children’s calendar. In order to be
sure of getting word in time to meet
his father at the station, Max went to
the post-office every mail day. A little
more than a week after the day on
which Ruth Redmond promised to
send them, Max found two bundles of
papers at the office, one addressed to
himself, the other to Zan. Their
War ands San and Wicodsemus 59
father, unaccustomed to writing, had
made his one letter to his wife as brief
as possible, and had not mentioned his
interview with the young lady on the
train; therefore it was a great puzzle
to know where the papers could have
come from. ‘They were none the less
heartily enjoyed, however, although
Max had little time for reading ex-
cept on Sundays.
Zan soon learned to divide her time,
after her work was done, between her
favorite outdoor pleasures and the new
delight of reading. She was not long
in arriving at the conclusion that the
fairies or angels or some other benefi-
cent agencies had, in the interests of
mammy and “Ruth,†sent her the
papers. Her reason for this belief was
found in the fact that they contained so
many little hints and suggestions and
many plain directions for making sim-.
ple home decorations and conveniences.
Not only in those early days, when the
60 War ands San and Wicodsemus
thought had scarcely taken definite
shape in her mind, but long after,
when she could more intelligently
consider the relations of cause and
effect, of antecedent and consequent,
she referred to her first sight of the
napkin and spoon her awakening to
the idea of beauty other than that of
nature. She believed that they taught
her that for her mother’s sake, since
she could not go out of doors, things
inside the house ought to be made
attractive. Not unnatural, then, was
the thought that through them, too, in
some way must have come instructions
as to how it might be done.
CHAPTER IV
THE day of Mr. Barnes’s return home
was one of mingled joy and sorrow
there—of joy on account of the re-
union of the little family never before
separated for so long atime; of sorrow
to Mrs. Barnes from the fuller realiza-
tion it brought her of her loss in the
death of her sister; of sorrow, too, to
little Janey, in whom the first sight of
her aunt, lying on the bed so pale and
thin, and looking so like the dear
mother she had seen laid in the grave
but a few days before, awakened recol- ~
lections that well-nigh broke her heart.
After the first shock, however, the sweet
voice and gentle ways of Aunt Janey
and the tears that mingled with her
own, comforted her and took away the
bitterness of her orphaned condition.
61
62 War ands San and Wicodsemus
For a long time, all the well-meant
efforts of Zan towards a better ac-
quaintance with her cousin and for her
happiness seemed wholly unavailing.
Not doubting that Janey, like herself,
was fond of outdoor pleasures, she
sought to entice her to the woods and
fields; but even if persuaded to go, the
child was dull and listless and anxious
to return to the house. Then Zan
tried the papers, and read aloud her
favorite stories and bits of poetry, but
still with poor success. At last, hope-
less of pleasing her cousin, Zan gave
up the effort and began to discuss with
her mother the question of trying to
make a rug, when, to her great surprise,
Janey at once manifested unmistak-
able signs of interest. The responsive
chord had been struck, and it was soon
discovered that the younger child could
give the older one many a lesson in
the use of the needle. Zan was amazed
to learn that Janey had not only made
Ztay and San and MWicodemus 63
a braided rug herself, but had pieced a
quilt and helped to quilt it, and had
almost blocks enough for another,
ready to join. From this time the
little girls got on well together.
Max had missed his father sadly
during his three weeks’ absence, not
merely on account of increase of labor
and responsibility, but more because
of loneliness. Mr. Barnes made a
companion of his son, and with him
discussed all the questions that came
within the limited range of his knowl-
edge. But it was not even his loneli-
ness that had made Max long most for
his father’s return. He had never in
all his life, he thought, so sorely needed
a counselor. ‘There were mysterious
happenings about the farm that per-
plexed him, and even though he did
not feel sure that his father could
unravel the mystery, it would have
been a great relief to have some one
with whom to share the secret. Un-
64 War and San and VWicodemus
willing to increase his mother’s anxiety,
and deeming it not prudent to make a
confidant of Zan in the matter, he kept
his own counsel, watching meanwhile
for new developments.
The very first opportunity for a pri-
vate interview with his father was
seized to unburden his mind. First,
the story of the fish was told, and, “I
wouldn’t ’a’ thought so much about
that,†he said, “if nothing else hadn’t
happened just as strange. One even-
ing when I went out to the pasture to
milk Lil, she was gone—had jumped
the fence at that place where it ’s bad,
’n’ I hunted for ’er till bedtime, bein’
moonlight, but couldn’t find ’er. I
made up my mind ’t she ’d gone to ’er
old home where you got ’er, so I got
up early to go after er an’ there she
was in ’er stable an’ the door shut.
“Then one day while I was gone to
the post-office, some one done more
hoein’ down in the back field than I
War and San and Wicodsemus 65
could ’a’ done ’f I ’d stayed at home. I
’d left the hoe in the field, ’cause I
‘lowed to hoe some more when I come
back. ’N’, Father, they grubbed in the
clearin’ moonlight nights, an’ chopped
a lot o’ wood, ’n’ I don’t know what all.
“But besides all the good that ’s
been done, somebody ’s been in the
smoke-house an’ took some meat an’ a
little meal an’ a few eggs. No whole
shoulder or side ’s been took, but only
slices or chunks cut off.â€
““Hev they been in more ’n oncet,
Max?â€
‘““Yes, two or three times. I dunno
just how often, ’cause I reckon I didn’t
notice right away. Don’t you believe
it ’s some one hidin’ out, Father, ’t gits
hungry an’ takes things ’n’ then works
to pay for ’em?â€
“Tt looks like it, but what can any-
body ’s honest as that be hidin’ out for?â€
“That ’s what bothers me. I wish
*t I could find out who’tis. I think
5
66 War and San and Wicodemus
of ’em nights, ’specially when it ’s
trainin’ hard, an’ wonder if it ’s some
one ’t hain’t got any dry place to sleep.â€
“You hain’t told your mother nor
Zan, hev you, Max?â€
“No, I hain’t. I thought ’t would
worry mammy an’ excite Zan too
much, so I just waited till you come
home, ’n’ I’m powerful glad you’re
here
Mr. Barnes thought that possibly
some of the neighbors, pitying Max,
had in these quiet ways helped him
without burdening him with a sense
of obligation, though he was puzzled
to know who of all the denizens of the
cove had so much delicacy of feeling
as this would imply. He could not
help suspecting that the smoke-house
visitations were purely imaginary.
However, he gave no intimations of
his doubts, but only said: “It ’s
strange. We must try to find out
what it all means.â€
Mar and San and WWicodemus 67
His mind having been unburdened
of its greater secret, Max thought to
surprise his father yet again, but was
surprised himself, instead, by the way
in which his account of the second
mystery was received.
“So she did send ’em, did she? I
thought mebbe she ’d forget all about
it fore she got home, though she didn’t
look like that kind o’ girl, neither.â€
“Why, who you talkin’ about,
Father?â€
“Why, the young lady ’t sent you
the papers. Didn’t you an’ Zan git a
box ’t she throwed out o’ the car
winder that day I went to your Aunt
Emmer’s ?
“Well, she come an’ talked to me,
an’ I told ’er ’bout you an’ Zan, an’ she
said she ’d send you some papers ’t
she ’d read already an’ didn’t have no
use for. I was powerful kind of
er,â€
“Yes, ’t was, Pappy, an’ I wish ’t I
68 War and San and WWicodemus
could do something for her to show
how we ’preciate ’em.â€
“That ’s what I told ’er, an’ she
said ’t I should tell you ’t mebbe
sometime she ’d come to Tennessee
to make some pictures, an’ then you
could help ’er to find pretty places,
an’ that ’u’d more ’’n pay’er. But Max,
I don’t think we ’d better tell Zan that,
neither, ‘cause mebbe she ’d set ’er
heart on ’t an’ git dis’pointed.â€
It was the second week in May when
Mr. Barnes returned, and of course the
spring work had fallen somewhat be-
hind, but it was wonderful how rapidly
it progressed from that time on.
During the days and nights when he
had watched by the bedside of his
sister-in-law (for there were but few to
share with him and little Janey in the
care of the dying woman) he had
“thought out†a way of strapping a
support to the knee of his crippled leg
and, once at home, he lost no time in
War and San and Wicodemus 69
putting his idea into execution. This
gave him so much more freedom in the
use of his hands that he could not only
do with greater ease what he had done
before, but was able to undertake tasks
that had been impossible while he was
on crutches.
By the first of June it was a pleas-
ure to see the fields and the garden
and the yard of the little home, every-
thing was in such fine condition. In
the house, too, there was such order
as had never before existed since Mrs.
Barnes’s health had failed.
So far from finding the little orphan
a care and a burden, her aunt soon be-
gan to realize that her presence was a
blessing. It was so much easier and
pleasanter for Zan to work in company
with her cousin than alone. Janey’s
chief delight was in household affairs,
and the real enjoyment she seemed to
find in the performance of her simple
duties appeared to Zan a marvelous
70 War and San and WWicodemus
thing at first, but by and by she caught
the infection and found some pleasure,
too, in work.
Although Mr. Barnes and Max were
still careful to relieve the little girls of
tasks too heavy for their strength, they
yet had less to do in the house than
formerly; so, rainy days and odd hours
were spent in the shop, and if Zan and
Janey found in their papers the descrip-
tion of a hanging shelf or a corner
bracket or some other convenience that
they coveted, they had but to appeal to
the workmen there and were almost
sure to be gratified.
During the two years immediately
following the loss of his limb, Mr.
Barnes, unable to farm, had rented his
land and tried to eke out the meager
income derived from it by labor better
suited to his strength. He wove bas-
kets, made husk door-mats, bottomed
chairs, and, later, made chairs outright,
and now and then a plain table or rus-
War and San and Wicodemus alt
tic cupboard. Farming had long since
been resumed, with the help of Max
and now and then a day of hired labor,
but still the little shop was the depend-
ence of the neighborhood for repairs
and for the manufacture of certain
simple pieces of furniture.
Lumber was so cheap as scarcely to
count in the cost of the manufactured
articles. ‘There remained uncleared, of
the little piece of land for which the
larger farm had been exchanged when
misfortune necessitated the sacrifice,
more than a hundred acres, all covered
with fine timber. ‘There were oaks,
and pines, and cedars, and walnuts, and
sweet gums, and other valuable woods ;
and Max was now able to fell a tree
and, with his father’s help, to saw it
into logs of suitable length. ‘Then, all
the expense of hauling and sawing was
paid for out of the lumber made, and
still a fourth of it was left for use in
the shop. ‘Then why should not Janey
72 Wear and San and VWicodsemus
and Zan have their brackets and shelves
and their rustic sideboards and stands?
It encouraged them, and surely two
little girls of nine and ten years old
deserved every encouragement that
could be afforded them in carrying
out their laudable purpose of making
home pretty for mamma and auntie.
For a long while the work of im-
provement begun with the advent of
the napkin and spoon had been con-
fined, in the main, to Mrs. Barnes’s
room,—which, by the way, was the
family sitting-room as well,—and very
naturally so, since the motive in it all
had been to make it pleasanter for the
one who could not go out of doors.
But one day something happened to
open the eyes of Zan to a new view of
the subject, and after that the good
work of reform was carried into every
corner of the house.
For a long while, although “Ruthâ€
had been her daily inspiration, had,
War and San and Wicodemus 73
child-fashion, been consulted and de-
ferred to in her imagined opinions on
all questions of taste, the napkin had
been left lying in its place in the little
old trunk. The child had begun to
notice that it did not look so fresh as
when it came to her, and, fearing lest
it should become soiled, she grew very
careful of it—‘“‘’Cause if I wash it, I
’m ‘fraid it ‘ll get yellow like our
clo’es,†she said. But one day Janey
was feeling very sad because something
had happened to remind her of her
mother. Zan, unable to console her,
bethought her of her beautiful M. D.,
and ran and brought it to the kitchen,
where the children had been at their
work. She sat down and spread the
napkin on her lap, and called Janey to
look at it, and together they traced
with their little fingers the beautiful
pattern again, and talked and won-
dered and admired till the tears of the
sorrowing child were dried.
74 War and San and VWicodsemus
Her object accomplished, Zan laid
the napkin on a shelf in the cupboard,
intending to put it away after the
dishes were washed. But she forgot it,
and it lay there for two or three days.
Then, when she happened to notice it
and took it down, great was her grief
to find it soiled and unsightly with
grease absorbed from the shelf on
which it had lain. She made no out-
cry after one little exclamation, but sat
down and held it tenderly in her hands,
stroking it gently as if in pity, while
tears stole silently down her cheeks.
Janey came in just then, and she
said: ‘““O Janey, look here. See how
bad I’ve treated M. D. I reckon she
’s thinkin’ if the shelves ’d ’a’ been
clean ’t wouldn’t ’a’ happened. See
how sorry she looks, an’ she won’t
never be happy no more, ’cause she
hain’t never been used to bein’ dirty.â€
solv ain: bhesienmy Zana ti MauecaTinnetcel:
It ’s you ’t thinks the shelf wa’n’t
War and San and Wicodemus 75
clean. Now don’t cry. We can wash
ito
“Ves, but we can’t make it white
like ’t was.â€
“Ves, wecan. I know how mamma
done.†And following the method of
“mamma†as nearly as the small
washerwomen could attain to it, they
washed and dried and ironed the nap-
kin, but with only tolerably satisfac-
tory results. Zan never felt quite
happy in looking at it until after it
had been washed again by other hands
some months later. How it came
about that other hands were available
for such services will appear when we
come to follow the story of Max and
his mysteries. In the meantime, the
shelves of the kitchen cupboard were
thoroughly scoured, and from that day
there grew and grew in Zan’s heart a
love for the beauty of cleanliness.
But bare boards, whether of table,
shelf, or floor, however clean and free
76 War and San and VWicodemus
from stain, could not content so true a
lover of the beautiful as Zan. Even
Janey’s quilts and rugs and various
draperies, combining use and orna-
ment, could not take the place to her
of lovelier things out of doors. Ere
long it dawned upon her mind that the
same service of love that had wrought
so great a change within might find a
more congenial field outside, —might
bring within her mother’s view
through the windows, now no longer
dimmed with dust and smoke, some of
the beauties of wood and field. Andoh!
what “fun†to hunt and capture each
shy flower, and plant and coax it into
content with its new home in the shady
yard.
Max did his part in planting ornamen-
tal trees and shrubs—two dogwoods,
one of red, the other of white blossoms,
a noble kalmia, and a fragrant pink
azalea. The fence and an arch over
the gate were festooned with vines,
War and San and Wicosemus 77
and the porches, too, were curtained
round with them. In woods and fields
near by were found the Virginia creep-
er and the wistaria, the passion flower
and the morning-glory, but Max
thought none of them more beautiful
than his grapes, already trained to
climb over smoke-house and shop.
The kitchen garden had its borders,
too, where flourished tulips and pinks
and marigolds and “ragged robinsâ€
and ‘“touch-me-nots†and other old-
fashioned flowers, from which was
gathered many a bouquet for mamma’s
room.
Reward enough her happiness for all
the toil it cost, but two years later the
loving toilers realized that they had
“builded better than they knew,†for
then their home, made beautiful for
mamma’s sake, became thereby a place
suitable for the entertainment of guests
whose coming was of incalculable bene-
fit to them. And Max and Zan gave
78 War and San and Vicodsemus
mamma all the credit, while she de-
clared ’t was all their own.
Who has not heard compassionated
the lot of the man with an invalid
wife, or of children whose mother is
never well? Such thoughts had often
troubled Mrs. Barnes, but her husband
and children were, on this point, of
clearer vision than she.. They knew
that though she should never walk
again, and though her hands should
lose all their skill, she would yet be
their greatest blessing.
The work of beautifying the portion
of the yard she could look out upon so
far outran the original intention that
for his mother’s pleasure Max devised
a supplementary scheme to give her a
more extended view. ‘This was no less
than the construction, with his father’s
help, of an invalid’s chair on rollers,
the idea having been suggested by a
cut in the advertising columns of one
of his papers; and, though a rude
War ands San and VWicodsemus 79
structure, it was voted a complete
success the first time mamma was
wheeled to the porch, where, after
that, she spent many an hour drinking
in beauty and happiness and health;
for what was believed with trembling
before, now became apparent to all—
that she was really growing stronger.
And now Mr. Barnes and his son
had in the still-continued night visits
to smoke-house and field their only
source of real concern.
“T wish ’t they ’d come in daylight
an’ ask for what they want,†said Mr.
Barnes. “Whoever ’t is ain’t doin’ jist
right, an’ it ’s dangerous to git into
bad habits. After while mebbe they
ll git used to it an’ it won’t seem
wrong to’em, an’ that Il be bad.â€
33nTKoOO
|
Full Text |
The Baldwin Library
Ww
| sxe NICODEMUS |
W| or,ASilver Teaspoon
And A Linen Napkin
By Mrs. M. A. Haynie Fisher :
W. J. Shuey, Publisher
Dayton, Ohio, 1396
CoPYRIGHT, 1896
By W. J. SHUEY, PUBLISHER
All rights reserved
PART II
CHAPTER III
A VERY innocent little trick was
that by which Zan brought to her
mother’s notice the teaspoon and the
napkin.
“Mammy,†she said, “we didn’t tell
you we brought comp’ny home with us,
did we? You’ll have a reg’lar M.D.
side of you at dinner, an’ a handmaid
to wait on you.â€
And as she spoke she laid the nap-
kin by her mother’s plate and pointed
to the embroidered initials, ‘“‘M. D.,†in
the corner; then, setting a cup of cof-
fee on the other side, placed the tea-
spoon in the saucer and said, “‘That’s
Ruth, Mammy, an’ I reckon coffee ‘11
taste powerful good when such a pretty
maid as that gives it to you.â€
42
War ands San and Vicodemus 43
Then the whole story of the box was
more fully told, together with the other
incidents of the short journey, includ-
ing the mystery of the string of fish.
The mention of the fish brought to
mind the flowers, and Zan ran for them
to the kitchen, where she had placed
them in a dish of fresh water.
‘““Ain’t they pretty, Mammy? An’
they look so quiet an’ good, but you
don’t know how mischeevious they are.
The very prettiest ones are always the
worst to hide where I can’t get ’em
’thout tearin’ my clo’es.â€â€™
In such fashion was confession made
of what the child’s tender conscience
would not allow her to conceal, al-
though a rent in even her best dress
seemed no very grave matter to her.
The dress was brought out and the
torn sleeve exhibited.
“But you needn’t mend it, Mammy,
’cause I don’t care, an’ it’s ’most sum-
mer now, an’ I won’t take cold.†And,
44 Way and San and Wicodemus
of course, the merry laugh followed, as
usual,—the laugh that almost discour-
aged the mother, to whom, neverthe-
less, it was the sweetest music in the
world.
“Mamma, isn’t that Zan’s best
dress?†asked Max.
“Yes, my son. It’s not a very nice
one, but it is her best.â€
Max looked inquiringly at his sister.
More merrily than ever, if possible, her
laugh rang out as she repeated her for-
mer assertion, “ No, ’t ain’t,†and ran to
the foot of the bed and drew from
beneath it a little, old-fashioned hair-
covered trunk and, lifting the lid, took
from it a carefully folded garment of a
delicate pink color. Unfolding this,
she held up what proved to be alittle
dress about large enough for a child
two years old.
“There, Mr. Max, that’s my best
dress,†and she danced across the floor
and patted his cheek, saying, ‘You
War and San and VWicodsemus 45
thought I was tellin’ a story, didn’t
you?â€
Then she threw the little garment
over his head and drew it closely about
his neck, then skipped and danced
about him in the greatest glee, appeal-
ing to ‘““mammy†to say if it wasn’t a
beautiful child. And the big boy
humored her fancy by first cooing
baby fashion and then with wide-open
mouth pretending to cry. Presently,
however, he caught Zan and held her
fast, and in mock-serious tones said,
“Now, Susanna Barnes, I’m going to
keep you still for five minutes while
mammy gives you a lesson on story-
telling.â€
“Story-telling? ’T wasn’t telling a
story. This zs my dress, an’ it’s bet-
ter ’n my other.â€
“But, daughter,†said the gentle
mother, ““making people believe what
is not true, even if a lie is not told, is a
dangerous thing to do.â€
46 War and San and VWicodemus
“Why, Mammy, it was only fun, an’
I knowed Max would find out what I
meant.â€
“But sometime maybe some one will
fail to learn your meaning, and then
my little girl will be regarded as un-
truthful.â€
“That ’s so, Mammy, an’ I’ll be
more careful. Now Max, lemme go.â€
“Yes, Max, Zan must wash the
dishes now and sweep the floor. You
know it wasn’t done this morning be-
cause you started so early.â€
‘““O Mammy, I’m goin’ to carry the
dishes to the kitchen an’ shut the door
an’ mebbe the fairies ‘11 wash ’em. I
reckon they ’d’s lief help me as Max,
an’ I just know ’t was them ’t caught
his fish for im.â€
“No, daughter—.†But Susanna, for
that was Zan’s name as written in the
old family Bible, was off with a load of
dishes, and by the time she returned
her mother had begun to realize that
War and San and WWicodemus 47
the unwonted excitement of the hour
had been too much for her strength,
and felt constrained to defer her lesson
to another time. Oh! what a puzzle it
was to her to know how to deal with
the exuberance of life in her child
without marring what she but wished
to mold and shape and fashion into
greater loveliness.
One after another, perplexing prob-
lems presented themselves for solution,
to none of which she had yet found the
key, although they had engaged her
thoughtful attention daily for many
months. One look about the untidy
room suggested anew the knottiest
question of them all. Should Zan be
permitted to become confirmed in her
present indifference to disorder and un-
tidiness? Or, on the other hand,
should the child’s powers be unduly
taxed to perform tasks that called for
the full strength of a woman? Oh,
for wisdom to plan for the best good
48 War and San and Wicodemus
of her child! and oh, for help to find
some better way than any she had yet
been able to devise!
One little gleam of light appeared
an hour later, when Zan, more sober
than usual, sat down by her mother’s
side with the napkin in her hand. She
spread it out on the bed and called at-
tention to each figure in the pattern,
then, after a long silence, said: “O
Mamma, it zs so pretty an’ white. I
was just wishin’ your pillows was as
white, an’ your sheets, an’ all our clo’es.
I wish ’t I knowed how they made it so
white.â€
She looked at it long and wistfully,
her mother, meanwhile, thinking,
thinking how she might best improve
this lesson— might open more widely
the eyes of the little girl to the beauty
of cleanliness. She waited, and pres-
ently little Susanna turned her dreamy
gaze from the napkin on the bed to the
box containing the spoon in her lap.
War and San and Wicodemus 49
Opening and carefully unwrapping it,
she held it up and looked and looked asif
she never could be satisfied with looking,
then turned it over and read the name
on the back. ‘Then she said, with just
a little twinkle in hereye: ‘‘An’ here’s
Ruth, Mammy; don’t look’s if she
b’longed here, does she? I’m ’fraid
shell get homesick, an’ M. D. too.â€
A happy thought occurred to Mrs.
Barnes. She would humor the child’s
fancies; maybe she had erred in trying
to eradicate the highly imaginative ten-
dency of the young mind. Maybe it
was a God-given faculty and therefore
good. So she said: “ Daughter, when
people have company, it is their duty
to try to make it pleasant for them, to
try to make them feel at home. These
strangers you brought home with you
will have to stay with us; they can’t
get back to their old home, so we must
see what we can do to make their new
home pleasant.â€
4
50 War and San and Wicodsemus
Zan looked up in surprise. It wasa
new experience to have her fancies
adopted. The impulsive, affectionate
little heart was grateful and so happy.
“Oh, Mammy!†she said, as she
clasped the thin hand of her mother in
both of her own and raised and gently
pressed it to her cheek; ‘I know they
feel better a’ready. °F you went visit-
in’, an’ the people didn’t let on they
knowed you was anybody, wouldn’t
you feel bad? But, Mammy, what can
I do to make ’em feel at home? I
don’t know how to make clo’es white.â€
“No, daughter, and you are not
strong enough if you did know how.
But let’s look around and see if there
isn’t something we can do. First, I
would put Ruth and M. D. in your
little trunk. Well say they have
gone to their room to rest. Now look
all around and see if there is any im-
provement you can make.â€
“T know what you’re thinkin’ of,
War and San and WWicodemus 51
Mammy; I forgot to hang up my dress
an’ put away my hat.â€
“There! that looks better. Now try
again.â€
“Ha, ha, ha!†and Zan pointed to
the corners of the room and to the
ceiling. “IT reckon them spiders’ webs
ain’t much ’count any more for ketchin’
flies; they ’re so black the flies can see
’em too plain. They ain’t like the
pretty ones outdoors, shinin’ so bright
in the sun.â€
It was not long until the busy little
hands had swept away every unsightly
cobweb, and her mother’s praises had
made her very happy. ‘Then the floor
was swept, but with not very satisfac-
tory results. A look of perplexity came
over the face of the child as she, more
slowly than her wont, walked back and
forth across the room, then, pausing,
stood in the middle of the floor and
surveyed it critically.
“Mammy,†she said, “it don’t pear
52 = War and San and WWicodemus
’s if I’d ever looked at this floor right
before. I always thought ’t was clean
when I’d swep’ it, but ’t ain’t; it’s
got dirty spots all over it. I reckon it
ought to be scoured.â€
“Yes, dear, it needs scouring, and
maybe when Max has time he’ll help
and we can have it done. If Cousin
Janey comes, she ’ll expect to see it
clean. You don’t remember your Aunt
Emma, Zan. You were only a baby
when we saw her last. She is a very
neat housekeeper.â€
““So are you, pappy says. Wonder
*£ I?ll be when I’m a woman.â€
“Ah, I wonder!†thought the mother,
but she deemed it not wise to dwell
longer on the subject at this time. In-
stead, she said, “Don’t you want to sit
down now and read something out of
the papers that came with your box?â€
Two of the papers were dailies, and
contained nothing to interest a little
girl like Zan, but the third happened
War and San and Wicodsemus 53
to be a weekly, with a household de-
partment, and a young people’s column,
and a farmer’s page, and in it she
found much to interest her, and when
Max came from his work at supper
time she had wonderful things to tell
him. But to him the most surprising
of all was her proposition to scour the
floor, with his help. He looked inquir-
ingly at his mother, and seeing her
look of content, and readily interpret-
ing her smile of pleasure, he promptly
responded to Zan’s request.
“Ves, siree, little woman, I reckon I
will help, an’ we’ll make it so clean
mammy wouldn’t be afraid to eat off
Lee
“Kat off it?†said Zan; “now I
wonder if things wouldn’t taste better
if the table was scoured too.†‘Too late
then before the evening meal, she re-
solved that to-morrow she would try
the virtue of sand and soap on the
table.
54 War and San and WWicodemus
A dainty meal was Mrs. Barnes’s tea
that evening, with the unwonted luxury
of a dish of toast, made, under her direc-
tion, of the buttered bread from the
lunch-box. Each slice was held with
the long toasting-fork, butter side up,
over a bed of glowing coals till the
under side was brown and the butter
melted. The children would indulge
in but a morsel each, declaring that
corn bread suited them better. Then
how delicious was the cup of fragrant
sassafras tea, sweetened with white
sugar found also in the box, in a little
paper sack, and mistaken at first for
salt by Zan, who. scarcely knew that
sugar could be white.
When the simple meal was ready,
the teaspoon and napkin were again
brought out and Max was informed
why the cobwebs had been cleared
away and the floor was to be scoured.
“Cause mammy says ’t ain’t nice to
let comp’ny get homesick, an’ mebbe
War and San and WWicodemus 55
they would if things wasn’t clean,
’cause they don’t look ’s if they was
used to dirt.â€
A happy thought seemed to strike
the little girl, and she said, ‘‘Mebbe
they ’re like me, though, an’ druther
be out of doors, where they can see the
mountains ’n’ trees ’n’ flowers ’n’ so
many pretty things. I’ll show ’em
old Chilhowee right now,†and she
held the teaspoon and napkin up be-
fore the window by which she was
sitting, from which there was, indeed,
a grand view of the mountain she
named. Apparently not satisfied, she
sprang to her feet and rushed out of
the door, and after a short absence
came slowly in again. In answer to
her mother’s unspoken question she
said, “I ’most wish ’t I hadn’t let ’em
look out o’ the window, Mammy; I
most heard ’em say, ‘’T ain’t clean,’
an’ when I took ’em out an’ said, ‘It
don’t make much difference ’bout the
560 War and San and WWicodemus
window, ’cause we can always go out-
side an’ see better,’ I reckon it must ’a’
been Ruth ’t made me think o’ you, ’t
can’t never get out to see better. I’m
goin’ to wash the windows right away.â€
“Tt will be very nice to have them
washed, daughter, but won’t it be bet-
ter to wait till to-morrow? ‘The even-
ing work must be done now.â€
The windows were washed next day,
and when the work was done and Zan
was admiring the result, she said,
“They look nice, Mammy, but I
wish ’t we could live outdoors all the
time, like the birds an’ squir’ls. It’s
so much prettier, an’ they wouldn’t be
any windows to wash or floors to scour.â€
‘Then she laughed as she said, “I reck-
on it ’s cause I like outdoors so well ’t I
let it get so dirty in the house. It’s ad/
cirtoutthere. The mountain’sallrocks
an’ dirt, an’ the garden ’s dirt, an’ the
fields an’ the yard an’ the road. Could-
n’t get along ’thout dirt out there.â€
War and San and Micodsemus 57
Mamma only smiled in answer.
Somehow her heart was more at rest
in regard to her little girl than it had
been for many and many a day before.
From long and careful study she under-
stood the nature of her child, and knew
what interpretation to put upon each
sign of growth.
Perhaps because Zan’s moral nature
was so pure and sweet, her mind so
keen and active, her disposition so
amiable, the mother exaggerated her
few defects and, no doubt, dwelt upon
them almost morbidly, realizing as she
did that in the main they resulted from
the lack of that motherly care which
her invalid state rendered it impossible
for her to exercise over the child. But
now how strange a thing had come to
pass. In the guise of a napkin and a
spoon the little one had found teachers
from whom she was learning lessons
that no other influence had been suffi-
ciently powerful to instill into her mind.
58 War and San and VWicodsemus
And as time passed, Mrs. Barnes had
no occasion to reverse her judgment as
to the nature of the awakening ex-
perienced by the young mind on that
bright spring day.
‘The housekeeping in the little moun-
tain home was not revolutionized all in
a day, but even before the return of
Mr. Barnes, three weeks after he left
home, such a change had been wrought
as to excite his wonder, and it was
many a day before he fully compre-
hended how it had been brought about.
But before their father’s return,
another red-letter day had occurred in
the children’s calendar. In order to be
sure of getting word in time to meet
his father at the station, Max went to
the post-office every mail day. A little
more than a week after the day on
which Ruth Redmond promised to
send them, Max found two bundles of
papers at the office, one addressed to
himself, the other to Zan. Their
War ands San and Wicodsemus 59
father, unaccustomed to writing, had
made his one letter to his wife as brief
as possible, and had not mentioned his
interview with the young lady on the
train; therefore it was a great puzzle
to know where the papers could have
come from. ‘They were none the less
heartily enjoyed, however, although
Max had little time for reading ex-
cept on Sundays.
Zan soon learned to divide her time,
after her work was done, between her
favorite outdoor pleasures and the new
delight of reading. She was not long
in arriving at the conclusion that the
fairies or angels or some other benefi-
cent agencies had, in the interests of
mammy and “Ruth,†sent her the
papers. Her reason for this belief was
found in the fact that they contained so
many little hints and suggestions and
many plain directions for making sim-.
ple home decorations and conveniences.
Not only in those early days, when the
60 War ands San and Wicodsemus
thought had scarcely taken definite
shape in her mind, but long after,
when she could more intelligently
consider the relations of cause and
effect, of antecedent and consequent,
she referred to her first sight of the
napkin and spoon her awakening to
the idea of beauty other than that of
nature. She believed that they taught
her that for her mother’s sake, since
she could not go out of doors, things
inside the house ought to be made
attractive. Not unnatural, then, was
the thought that through them, too, in
some way must have come instructions
as to how it might be done.
CHAPTER IV
THE day of Mr. Barnes’s return home
was one of mingled joy and sorrow
there—of joy on account of the re-
union of the little family never before
separated for so long atime; of sorrow
to Mrs. Barnes from the fuller realiza-
tion it brought her of her loss in the
death of her sister; of sorrow, too, to
little Janey, in whom the first sight of
her aunt, lying on the bed so pale and
thin, and looking so like the dear
mother she had seen laid in the grave
but a few days before, awakened recol- ~
lections that well-nigh broke her heart.
After the first shock, however, the sweet
voice and gentle ways of Aunt Janey
and the tears that mingled with her
own, comforted her and took away the
bitterness of her orphaned condition.
61
62 War ands San and Wicodsemus
For a long time, all the well-meant
efforts of Zan towards a better ac-
quaintance with her cousin and for her
happiness seemed wholly unavailing.
Not doubting that Janey, like herself,
was fond of outdoor pleasures, she
sought to entice her to the woods and
fields; but even if persuaded to go, the
child was dull and listless and anxious
to return to the house. Then Zan
tried the papers, and read aloud her
favorite stories and bits of poetry, but
still with poor success. At last, hope-
less of pleasing her cousin, Zan gave
up the effort and began to discuss with
her mother the question of trying to
make a rug, when, to her great surprise,
Janey at once manifested unmistak-
able signs of interest. The responsive
chord had been struck, and it was soon
discovered that the younger child could
give the older one many a lesson in
the use of the needle. Zan was amazed
to learn that Janey had not only made
Ztay and San and MWicodemus 63
a braided rug herself, but had pieced a
quilt and helped to quilt it, and had
almost blocks enough for another,
ready to join. From this time the
little girls got on well together.
Max had missed his father sadly
during his three weeks’ absence, not
merely on account of increase of labor
and responsibility, but more because
of loneliness. Mr. Barnes made a
companion of his son, and with him
discussed all the questions that came
within the limited range of his knowl-
edge. But it was not even his loneli-
ness that had made Max long most for
his father’s return. He had never in
all his life, he thought, so sorely needed
a counselor. ‘There were mysterious
happenings about the farm that per-
plexed him, and even though he did
not feel sure that his father could
unravel the mystery, it would have
been a great relief to have some one
with whom to share the secret. Un-
64 War and San and VWicodemus
willing to increase his mother’s anxiety,
and deeming it not prudent to make a
confidant of Zan in the matter, he kept
his own counsel, watching meanwhile
for new developments.
The very first opportunity for a pri-
vate interview with his father was
seized to unburden his mind. First,
the story of the fish was told, and, “I
wouldn’t ’a’ thought so much about
that,†he said, “if nothing else hadn’t
happened just as strange. One even-
ing when I went out to the pasture to
milk Lil, she was gone—had jumped
the fence at that place where it ’s bad,
’n’ I hunted for ’er till bedtime, bein’
moonlight, but couldn’t find ’er. I
made up my mind ’t she ’d gone to ’er
old home where you got ’er, so I got
up early to go after er an’ there she
was in ’er stable an’ the door shut.
“Then one day while I was gone to
the post-office, some one done more
hoein’ down in the back field than I
War and San and Wicodsemus 65
could ’a’ done ’f I ’d stayed at home. I
’d left the hoe in the field, ’cause I
‘lowed to hoe some more when I come
back. ’N’, Father, they grubbed in the
clearin’ moonlight nights, an’ chopped
a lot o’ wood, ’n’ I don’t know what all.
“But besides all the good that ’s
been done, somebody ’s been in the
smoke-house an’ took some meat an’ a
little meal an’ a few eggs. No whole
shoulder or side ’s been took, but only
slices or chunks cut off.â€
““Hev they been in more ’n oncet,
Max?â€
‘““Yes, two or three times. I dunno
just how often, ’cause I reckon I didn’t
notice right away. Don’t you believe
it ’s some one hidin’ out, Father, ’t gits
hungry an’ takes things ’n’ then works
to pay for ’em?â€
“Tt looks like it, but what can any-
body ’s honest as that be hidin’ out for?â€
“That ’s what bothers me. I wish
*t I could find out who’tis. I think
5
66 War and San and Wicodemus
of ’em nights, ’specially when it ’s
trainin’ hard, an’ wonder if it ’s some
one ’t hain’t got any dry place to sleep.â€
“You hain’t told your mother nor
Zan, hev you, Max?â€
“No, I hain’t. I thought ’t would
worry mammy an’ excite Zan too
much, so I just waited till you come
home, ’n’ I’m powerful glad you’re
here
Mr. Barnes thought that possibly
some of the neighbors, pitying Max,
had in these quiet ways helped him
without burdening him with a sense
of obligation, though he was puzzled
to know who of all the denizens of the
cove had so much delicacy of feeling
as this would imply. He could not
help suspecting that the smoke-house
visitations were purely imaginary.
However, he gave no intimations of
his doubts, but only said: “It ’s
strange. We must try to find out
what it all means.â€
Mar and San and WWicodemus 67
His mind having been unburdened
of its greater secret, Max thought to
surprise his father yet again, but was
surprised himself, instead, by the way
in which his account of the second
mystery was received.
“So she did send ’em, did she? I
thought mebbe she ’d forget all about
it fore she got home, though she didn’t
look like that kind o’ girl, neither.â€
“Why, who you talkin’ about,
Father?â€
“Why, the young lady ’t sent you
the papers. Didn’t you an’ Zan git a
box ’t she throwed out o’ the car
winder that day I went to your Aunt
Emmer’s ?
“Well, she come an’ talked to me,
an’ I told ’er ’bout you an’ Zan, an’ she
said she ’d send you some papers ’t
she ’d read already an’ didn’t have no
use for. I was powerful kind of
er,â€
“Yes, ’t was, Pappy, an’ I wish ’t I
68 War and San and WWicodemus
could do something for her to show
how we ’preciate ’em.â€
“That ’s what I told ’er, an’ she
said ’t I should tell you ’t mebbe
sometime she ’d come to Tennessee
to make some pictures, an’ then you
could help ’er to find pretty places,
an’ that ’u’d more ’’n pay’er. But Max,
I don’t think we ’d better tell Zan that,
neither, ‘cause mebbe she ’d set ’er
heart on ’t an’ git dis’pointed.â€
It was the second week in May when
Mr. Barnes returned, and of course the
spring work had fallen somewhat be-
hind, but it was wonderful how rapidly
it progressed from that time on.
During the days and nights when he
had watched by the bedside of his
sister-in-law (for there were but few to
share with him and little Janey in the
care of the dying woman) he had
“thought out†a way of strapping a
support to the knee of his crippled leg
and, once at home, he lost no time in
War and San and Wicodemus 69
putting his idea into execution. This
gave him so much more freedom in the
use of his hands that he could not only
do with greater ease what he had done
before, but was able to undertake tasks
that had been impossible while he was
on crutches.
By the first of June it was a pleas-
ure to see the fields and the garden
and the yard of the little home, every-
thing was in such fine condition. In
the house, too, there was such order
as had never before existed since Mrs.
Barnes’s health had failed.
So far from finding the little orphan
a care and a burden, her aunt soon be-
gan to realize that her presence was a
blessing. It was so much easier and
pleasanter for Zan to work in company
with her cousin than alone. Janey’s
chief delight was in household affairs,
and the real enjoyment she seemed to
find in the performance of her simple
duties appeared to Zan a marvelous
70 War and San and WWicodemus
thing at first, but by and by she caught
the infection and found some pleasure,
too, in work.
Although Mr. Barnes and Max were
still careful to relieve the little girls of
tasks too heavy for their strength, they
yet had less to do in the house than
formerly; so, rainy days and odd hours
were spent in the shop, and if Zan and
Janey found in their papers the descrip-
tion of a hanging shelf or a corner
bracket or some other convenience that
they coveted, they had but to appeal to
the workmen there and were almost
sure to be gratified.
During the two years immediately
following the loss of his limb, Mr.
Barnes, unable to farm, had rented his
land and tried to eke out the meager
income derived from it by labor better
suited to his strength. He wove bas-
kets, made husk door-mats, bottomed
chairs, and, later, made chairs outright,
and now and then a plain table or rus-
War and San and Wicodemus alt
tic cupboard. Farming had long since
been resumed, with the help of Max
and now and then a day of hired labor,
but still the little shop was the depend-
ence of the neighborhood for repairs
and for the manufacture of certain
simple pieces of furniture.
Lumber was so cheap as scarcely to
count in the cost of the manufactured
articles. ‘There remained uncleared, of
the little piece of land for which the
larger farm had been exchanged when
misfortune necessitated the sacrifice,
more than a hundred acres, all covered
with fine timber. ‘There were oaks,
and pines, and cedars, and walnuts, and
sweet gums, and other valuable woods ;
and Max was now able to fell a tree
and, with his father’s help, to saw it
into logs of suitable length. ‘Then, all
the expense of hauling and sawing was
paid for out of the lumber made, and
still a fourth of it was left for use in
the shop. ‘Then why should not Janey
72 Wear and San and VWicodsemus
and Zan have their brackets and shelves
and their rustic sideboards and stands?
It encouraged them, and surely two
little girls of nine and ten years old
deserved every encouragement that
could be afforded them in carrying
out their laudable purpose of making
home pretty for mamma and auntie.
For a long while the work of im-
provement begun with the advent of
the napkin and spoon had been con-
fined, in the main, to Mrs. Barnes’s
room,—which, by the way, was the
family sitting-room as well,—and very
naturally so, since the motive in it all
had been to make it pleasanter for the
one who could not go out of doors.
But one day something happened to
open the eyes of Zan to a new view of
the subject, and after that the good
work of reform was carried into every
corner of the house.
For a long while, although “Ruthâ€
had been her daily inspiration, had,
War and San and Wicodemus 73
child-fashion, been consulted and de-
ferred to in her imagined opinions on
all questions of taste, the napkin had
been left lying in its place in the little
old trunk. The child had begun to
notice that it did not look so fresh as
when it came to her, and, fearing lest
it should become soiled, she grew very
careful of it—‘“‘’Cause if I wash it, I
’m ‘fraid it ‘ll get yellow like our
clo’es,†she said. But one day Janey
was feeling very sad because something
had happened to remind her of her
mother. Zan, unable to console her,
bethought her of her beautiful M. D.,
and ran and brought it to the kitchen,
where the children had been at their
work. She sat down and spread the
napkin on her lap, and called Janey to
look at it, and together they traced
with their little fingers the beautiful
pattern again, and talked and won-
dered and admired till the tears of the
sorrowing child were dried.
74 War and San and VWicodsemus
Her object accomplished, Zan laid
the napkin on a shelf in the cupboard,
intending to put it away after the
dishes were washed. But she forgot it,
and it lay there for two or three days.
Then, when she happened to notice it
and took it down, great was her grief
to find it soiled and unsightly with
grease absorbed from the shelf on
which it had lain. She made no out-
cry after one little exclamation, but sat
down and held it tenderly in her hands,
stroking it gently as if in pity, while
tears stole silently down her cheeks.
Janey came in just then, and she
said: ‘““O Janey, look here. See how
bad I’ve treated M. D. I reckon she
’s thinkin’ if the shelves ’d ’a’ been
clean ’t wouldn’t ’a’ happened. See
how sorry she looks, an’ she won’t
never be happy no more, ’cause she
hain’t never been used to bein’ dirty.â€
solv ain: bhesienmy Zana ti MauecaTinnetcel:
It ’s you ’t thinks the shelf wa’n’t
War and San and Wicodemus 75
clean. Now don’t cry. We can wash
ito
“Ves, but we can’t make it white
like ’t was.â€
“Ves, wecan. I know how mamma
done.†And following the method of
“mamma†as nearly as the small
washerwomen could attain to it, they
washed and dried and ironed the nap-
kin, but with only tolerably satisfac-
tory results. Zan never felt quite
happy in looking at it until after it
had been washed again by other hands
some months later. How it came
about that other hands were available
for such services will appear when we
come to follow the story of Max and
his mysteries. In the meantime, the
shelves of the kitchen cupboard were
thoroughly scoured, and from that day
there grew and grew in Zan’s heart a
love for the beauty of cleanliness.
But bare boards, whether of table,
shelf, or floor, however clean and free
76 War and San and VWicodemus
from stain, could not content so true a
lover of the beautiful as Zan. Even
Janey’s quilts and rugs and various
draperies, combining use and orna-
ment, could not take the place to her
of lovelier things out of doors. Ere
long it dawned upon her mind that the
same service of love that had wrought
so great a change within might find a
more congenial field outside, —might
bring within her mother’s view
through the windows, now no longer
dimmed with dust and smoke, some of
the beauties of wood and field. Andoh!
what “fun†to hunt and capture each
shy flower, and plant and coax it into
content with its new home in the shady
yard.
Max did his part in planting ornamen-
tal trees and shrubs—two dogwoods,
one of red, the other of white blossoms,
a noble kalmia, and a fragrant pink
azalea. The fence and an arch over
the gate were festooned with vines,
War and San and Wicosemus 77
and the porches, too, were curtained
round with them. In woods and fields
near by were found the Virginia creep-
er and the wistaria, the passion flower
and the morning-glory, but Max
thought none of them more beautiful
than his grapes, already trained to
climb over smoke-house and shop.
The kitchen garden had its borders,
too, where flourished tulips and pinks
and marigolds and “ragged robinsâ€
and ‘“touch-me-nots†and other old-
fashioned flowers, from which was
gathered many a bouquet for mamma’s
room.
Reward enough her happiness for all
the toil it cost, but two years later the
loving toilers realized that they had
“builded better than they knew,†for
then their home, made beautiful for
mamma’s sake, became thereby a place
suitable for the entertainment of guests
whose coming was of incalculable bene-
fit to them. And Max and Zan gave
78 War and San and Vicodsemus
mamma all the credit, while she de-
clared ’t was all their own.
Who has not heard compassionated
the lot of the man with an invalid
wife, or of children whose mother is
never well? Such thoughts had often
troubled Mrs. Barnes, but her husband
and children were, on this point, of
clearer vision than she.. They knew
that though she should never walk
again, and though her hands should
lose all their skill, she would yet be
their greatest blessing.
The work of beautifying the portion
of the yard she could look out upon so
far outran the original intention that
for his mother’s pleasure Max devised
a supplementary scheme to give her a
more extended view. ‘This was no less
than the construction, with his father’s
help, of an invalid’s chair on rollers,
the idea having been suggested by a
cut in the advertising columns of one
of his papers; and, though a rude
War ands San and VWicodsemus 79
structure, it was voted a complete
success the first time mamma was
wheeled to the porch, where, after
that, she spent many an hour drinking
in beauty and happiness and health;
for what was believed with trembling
before, now became apparent to all—
that she was really growing stronger.
And now Mr. Barnes and his son
had in the still-continued night visits
to smoke-house and field their only
source of real concern.
“T wish ’t they ’d come in daylight
an’ ask for what they want,†said Mr.
Barnes. “Whoever ’t is ain’t doin’ jist
right, an’ it ’s dangerous to git into
bad habits. After while mebbe they
ll git used to it an’ it won’t seem
wrong to’em, an’ that Il be bad.â€
33nTKoOO
|
|