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Laa diagrammas suivants illustrant la mOthoda. 1 2 3 4 5 6 MICROCOPY tiSOUJTION TBT CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) IB u 14.0 12^ 12.2 ^ >IPPLIED IN/HGE li nc 1 1 '3 East Main Street Rocherter, New York U609 USA (^16) 32 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 -5989 -Fax AKi/NG OF COUTNTRY HO/nE -I ■ 4^ J P. a\o\\i;ra^ t^■•. ^i- -^ y^ y/^f •.^ "•^.•A., S;i?S3!g!'!i-iS''i'-i^r:-ii iifS^"??^' ««fB*f''§f?,)0|^jp,;Mf!!i!r'- ■'"■"' •■ '■ -TTff- -s^ — : — iiJ-r^c au-sas^;:; OFJ'AlfCOU/tirRT iHOME^ I B/Sr.?rF37;2! r3*^»s-.'aasnSg I i>* THE MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME BY J.^. MOWBRAY f^ TORONTO WILLIAM BRiaOS 1901 f\ 1101 Copyright, 1901, by JOHN WANAMAKER. Copyright, 1901, by DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & CO. October, 1901. J. 8. Ciuhinf li '; ->. - berwick & Smith Norwood Mu*. V&A. PREFACE The story told in this book claims only to be the record of an ordinary man's experience and success m his efforts to make a home for himself in the country. It was believed by the writer that it would be a merit to keep the narrative as close as possible to actual facts, and not avail himself of any more romance than usually falls to the lot of an ordi- nary and thrifty man, who perhaps is often a good deal of a hero, though he is himself hardly aware of it, and is not usually celebrated in literature. If there are any small recompenses in this humble hero's endeavours growing out of the everyday facts of life, and his task is lit by some homely but enduring gleams, the book may encourage and stimulate other ordinary men who have the capacity to long for a home. Such is the hope as well as the purpose of the author. 1996 COJVTETVTS CHAPTER I Castles in the Air . • • • Page • . I CHAPTER II The Search . • • • . • 33 CHAPTER III The Householder . • • • 56 CHAPTER IV On Her Own Threshold • 79 CHAPTER V The Incipient Garden ' ' • • 100 CHAPTER VI The Day of Small Things • . . . . 121 CHAPTER VII In Which John Entertains Angels Unawares vii 142 I CONTENTS CHAPTER VIII Pkge In Which the Tempter Enters 15, CHAPTER IX The Raising of the Roof ,g- CHAPTER X Recompense CHAPTER XI Winter's Warnings and Discomforts . . . .222 CHAPTER XII Conclusion . . .,. 243 Chas. Edw. Hoopetv* VIU The Making of a Country Home CHAPTER I CASTLES IN THE AIR MR. JOHN DENNISOy lived in the large flat house, The Marmontelle, on Fifty-eighth Street. He had lived there two years ; that is, ever since he had married the girl of his choice, who was then Lucy Raymond. He was superintendent in the large wholesale establishment of Clayton & Deems, very far down town, and he was accepted in his own small circle of friends as a well-fixed and promising young man, capable of supporting a genteel establishment; who dressed his wife well, and entertained his friends with comfortable if not MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME elegant hospitality. In other words, John Den- nison wci one of several thousand young men in the great city who earn a salary of two thousand four hundred a year, by the exercise of routine fidelity, and manage to enjoy life as they go along. Most of his friends were men of the same status, who had given up many of their early ambitions and had adjusted themselves easily to that kind of commercial life in which there is little more than an assured competence or a comfortable drudgery. But John Dennison at the end of two years had grown slightly restless in his mind at the prospect. If the truth could be known, this restlessness probably sprang from the cradle wherein his first-born was very daintily tucked up in laces. John possessed something of an imagi- native mind, which, of all things in the world, is the most superfluous and distressing endowment for the superintendent of a large importing house. He probably inherited from his New England father what we call a constructive talent. He was always fashioning things just a little ahead of the prosaic dutie; .lat ought to have satisfied him when he became the possessor of a wife and baby. He was within a year of being thirty, and twenty years more of getting on the car at seven in the morning and climbi.ig back at five in the evening, going to the same cosey room, kissing his wife and baby in the same way, paying the same three-fourths of his salary to the landlord, the grocer, and the tailor, and nursing a contented 3 mtBsmf CASTLES IN THE AIR mind by going to the Central Park on Sunday morning and the theatre on Wednesday night —■ this prospect, he was beginning to feel sure, would become intolerable in twenty years more. But there was no escape from it. He had fixed his lot, and he must take things as thev came, and, if possible, manage to squeeze out enough to keep up appearances and his life insurance — in case he should make a misstep some night in jumpinc for an electric car. ° Oddly enough John Dennison did not have the comfortable mental equipment that settles down passively under these conditions. He was more and more convinced, as he thought about it, that he was not getting all that a faithful drudge is entitled to in this life. He was not only not storing up any power, but the joys that he was seizing on the way were beginning to leave an unpleasant taste in his mouth. He had thought this over for several months ; figured it this way and that in his own mind, without saving anything to his wife, but at last he arrived at somethini like a conclusion. He came home one night in the early spring, looking a little more tired than usual, and his wife met him in the hallway when he got off the elevator. She began at once : — " My dear, Kate Ellis came over this afternoon and insisted that we should join her and Wesley at dinner. They have found a new restaurant. I ve forgotten where it is, but it is in some out- of-the-way place, and is all the go." Her husband pushed the hair off her forehead 3 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME and kissed her. " You did not promise them, I hope." " No — not positively. I told her not to wait for us; perhaps you would not feel like eoing out." ® * "Thanks. I don't. I'd rather spend the evening with you. I detest all restaurants, and new ones especially. The perfidiousness of the food is regulated by the popularity of the place." She looked pleased. " Do you feel economical or tired, dear ? " « Both." " Then we'll eat our own dinner. Only one course, and that is restful. I was afraid you'd say yes, and I'd have to dress." They went into the rooms, and John, with care- less haste, made his way direct to a cradle, and pulling away the coverlet, began rubbing his mustache over something pink and warm, which responded with a cry. « Now I hope you're satisfied," said his wife. " You had to wake him up, and I've been the last half-hour getting him to sleep." " The idea of your packing him out of sight just as I arrive ! " Whereupon he dug out the pink bundle and went up and down the room, playing a risLy game of pitch-and-toss with it, and, it being a remark- ably good-natured bundle, quickly adapted itself to the loss of its nap, and after one or two rolls of the lip and watery stare of blue eyes, was tied in 4 CASTLES IN THE AIR a baby's chair at the table, where it could clutch at the sugar bowl impotcntly, and John, slippered and smoking-jacketed, sat down to his dinner in their little dining room. "What are those?" he asked immediately, pointing with his fork to a dish in the middle of the table. " They look like birds. You don't call that economy ? " " You shall find out for yourself. I felt extrav- agant and wanted to surprise you." He fell to eating with a good ze-*, for he was young and hearty, but his incidental attention to the baby, who had to throw the napkin-rings and spoons on the floor, seriatim^ and needed a con- stant supply, occupied so much of his time, that his wife waited in vain for the expected burst of delight over her dish, and instead of drinking the cup of tea she had poured out, and which was steaming in front of her — for this little meal was a humble compromise of the city dinner and the country tea — she sat watching her husband, having already detected something unusual in his mood. She was probably twenty-six years old; that IS, about three years younger than John. She was that kind of girl who makes the discovery that she is pretty to only one man in the world, the rest of the world being content to take his estimate of her to avoid argument; but at odd times it must have been momentarily apparent to the rest of the world that John had the clearer vision, for she had that curious quality of flaring 5 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME up suddenly into decided attractiveness, where- upon some of her most intimate female friends would remark, with a little display of that fine consideration for their own s- x which they keep m reserve, " Lucy isn't such a bad-looking girl, after all," and this always gave occasion to one or two domestic cynics of tht other sex to fire oflT their reserve shot, and remark with ail the subtle irony of convenient commonplace, " Ah, madame, handsome is as handsome does. Mrs. Dennison IS a pearl." It being, as Mrs. Johnson observed, a domestic cvnic s notion that the ideal woman is secreted in the dark, according to the law of oys- terdom. ' Mrs. Dennison's photographs lacked many of the seductive Qualities that make men tack them up at the head of their beds and keep them in anonymous albums. According to St. Gaudens her mouth was too large, and her nose had none of the rectitude of a Greek profile. At first sight, and unadorned, you set her down as one of those divme soubrettes in life's drama who are apt to make things merry. As her husband had once remarked with an entirely new admiration, she was evidently made for business. But it was noticeable that those who knew her best grew to like her large mouth. It was what her uncle, the dominie, had called the " Os magna sonifurum" and then mis- translated, as the mouth made for great laughs. As for her slightly snub nose, well, somehow that seemed, on a better acquaintance, to be a thor- oughly human aflfair that was always trying to I CASTLES IN THE AIR imitate, in its static way, the inimitable saudness and COCK of her head. « Well," she said, " why don't you say ,omc- thmff about my rare dish ? " Thus called to a proper sense of his duty, ohn broke out heedlessly. « Why, it's simply tun- nmg. What the deuce is it, anyway .? You ffct It at the French cook-shop, of course ? " " No, I didn't. I bought it at the pork-burch- cr s. It cost me thirty-five rents. It's common pork tenderlom. But 1 stuffed it with chopped green pepoer and mushrooms and a bit of celcrv . and baked and basted it till my face was as rea as a beet, and I don't believe you wou' word if I hadn't prompted you." John had that ordinary and vita mour which is apt to take the dire geration. He lay back in his chair .i to be half paralyzed. " Pork tenderloins ! " he exclaiii j < you are a Banshee. Do you know, i believ e vou could make tripe ambrosial, and set cabb ,^ a pinnacle if you gave your mind to it. Hm^ you got any more ? 1 feel like Cssar. rh« appetite which you have created gr^ws ui .,n which feeds it. ' " No more. You have eatei he u hi There were only two." "Except what you ate yourself I e - 'e Paid se of hu- of c xag- >retenJed Well, (hat It. one. "And I put it back while you were r,, with the baby — cannibal." ^ ou ng MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME He became suddenly serious. "Lucy," saic he, after a pause, " do vou know, your posiibiliue scare me sometimes, i^m such a'h^umdE^m b ruTe and getting nore so every day " " But pi; ise don't let the baby throw that tea- cup on the floor and smash it. My mother aavc me that set, and I can't replace it." " He moved the tea-cup away mechanically, but he was thmkmg of something else. ^ hiswTfe";"whT^i??^'^" ^°" ""^^ ^<-<^ "You," he answered, as he got up and becan poking abou. on the mantel fofhis cLr ^ (->., come, don't jolly me. Out with it What has happened ? " ' "" "* " You don t mind if I smoke in here? " No, dear, but the baby, remember " He laid the cigar down submissively, and com- In? .ff ^' « l'' H'' '''^^ ^'^^ ^^'"^ ««'« appar- ent effort, "Lucy, does it ever occur to you when she^nrn'^^l'^ "°' ^'^!- * ^r^ o^-'stonishment, but « Weif ? " '"'"" "^'''''^y- ^^^ ''''''^ »"d «aid, " Don't misunderstand me. I should have said J made a mistake. «Oh~h!" from the little woman's mouth a cunously elongated and indefinite monosyllable; and then her husband might have seen, if he had been ,n an observant mood, what a fine agreement there was between her no-e and the set .f her 8 ii«r*l«*lii»»A(.«»!l»ii)tt'f1i . r! « • CASTLES IN THE AIR head, together reminding one oft hair-trigger that only needs one more touch to eo oflT. " Yes," he went on, « ' am older than you, and ought to have caught the lesson of life, which is plainly written for such fellows as I am — before taking the fatal leap. It's the commonest kind of smartness for a man who has a race to run, to win his soal before he handicaps himself — with a wife and a baby." " And what put this belated rubbish into your head, my dear r " asked Lucy. " You," he said. " Two years and a half ago, when I put the bonds upon you, you were brim- ful of a girl's rosiest dreams. I caught all my sense of the beautiful in God's world from you. You sang and painted and danced and dreamed, and 1 took you out of your throbbing exultant life, and shut you up in this canal-boat, where there is no present chance of escape. A man ought to be hanged for less." This time she said " Oh ! " with an altogether different intonation, as if she felt relieved, and he plunged ahead. " Do you remember that day you came home from Holyoke? I can tell you exactly how you were dressed, my dear, from your saucy leghorn hat to your stout little boots, and that alligator belt with a bunch of Marguerites stuck in it. You thought there wasn't anything good enough for you in this world. And you were right. You came fresh out of the pure air and brought some of it with you. Do you remember, my 9 hi MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME dear, my sentimental verses in which I called you * rainy-sweet and blossom-glad * ? " His wife was listening, and there was a little water in her eyes. He was brute enough to re- mind her of what she no longer was. Woman- like, she was saying to herself with the rapidity of lightning, " I must be red with standing over the stove. I am not as fresh as I once was. It must be a disappointment to a man." What she managed to say to him was : — " I know, I know, John. I am no longer a schoolgirl with Marguerites. I wish I might be for your sake." He stared at her with surprise, and seeing the water in her eyes which she was vainly endeav- ouring to hide, something of his blunt cruelty occurred to him, and getting up so suddenly that he upset the chair and frightened the baby, who began to cry, he came and put his arm tenderly around his wife's neck. " Little woman," he said, " your feelings have gone off in the wrong direction, I swear it. I didn't remind you of that happy day when we came from Holyoke because you have lost any- thing, but because you have grown so much more beautiful and sacred as a wife and mother than such a brute as I could hope for ; and I am be- ginning to feel like the thief who stole the fire from heaven and was then chained to a rock for it. There was such a scoundrel in mythology, wasn't there ? " She wiped her eyes. "Take your cigar and lo . 1 CASTLES IN THE AIR go in the sitting room, dear. You have fright- ened the baby. I will come there in a few moments. He shut the sitting room door and walked up and down while he smoked. He was now in that mood when trifles make a new appeal to the sense. He looked at Lucy's plants in the little bay, and thought how she had watched and coaxed them alone, and how they withered in the gas, in spite of her. There was the prickly pear that Colonel Wallace had brought her from Arizona, and she had watered it to death, killine It with too much kindness, so that it was now yellow and shrivelled. He stood a moment in frR 1, k' ''^ii^. P'^^^r^ that she had painted in the Berkshire Hills. It was very crude and raw, but he had put a ten-dollar frame on it, and was ready to kill any man who said it was not equal to a Corot. There was her neglected easel in the corner with her old leghorn hat hanging on a peg of It, which gave a reckless artistic lourish to the room. She caught him looking at it when she came softly in and shut the door. Don t talk too loudly," she said, "or you will wake Harold." ^ " ^Jf been thinking.about our afl^airs for some days, he began, « and I get restless an '. discour- aged at times." "If anything has happened," she said, « you ought to tell me just what it is." " Nothing has happened, I assure you — noth- ing IS likely to happen. It is the leaden un- II I m MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Jikelincss that weighs on me. Some of the unemployed faculties have not yet grown numb with the dead pressure of this life." There was a coal fire in the grate. She gave it one or two pokes as if to gain time and make up her mind how to meet this mood. Then she sat down in a low rocker, looking very receptive and passive in her plain but becoming wrapper, and gazed meditatively and expectantly into the fire. All she said was: "You would have felt better, John, if we had gone out to dinner. You need a change." "I'm very glad I did not go," said John. "I'd rather talk to you than listen to Wesley and his wife the whole evening. I see the papers are beginning to advertise the Easter goods." " Did you notice that ? It's not like you." " Oh, it reminded me of an Easter only two years ago. I noticed this morning while I was dressing that the sun had got round on the wall to your picture. I can tell when Easter's near, by that, without looking in the papers." " But what makes you give it that melancholy turn ? Something has happened, John, and you are beating about the bush." "No — nothing happens, that's the curse of it — except " "What?" " That I shall get to be a disappointed drudge and you a domestic slave, accommodating our- selves, without a kick, to the dull inevitable, 12 ' 1 CASTLES IN THE AIR with all the sunshine and song squeezed out of us. I think a man feels this as a premonition more keenly when Easter approaches. That's what I meant, my dear, by saying that a man ought to reach his goal before he takes a wife, for the more he loves her the more of a handicap she IS. Don't you see that ? " " No. I don't see it at all." "But you understand that he will not take any risk when he is married ; would rather plod securely than conquer at his peril. 1 ought to have made a home fit for such a wife as I have before I married her." Then she laughed one of her copious, mellow laughs. "I think you have got that wrong, John, upon my word 1 do. Homes do not pro- duce wives or lead up to them. It's just the °f"er way, it seems to me. The wives produce the homes. Young men, as I understand it, think just about as much of making a home be- fore they get a wife, as they think about making a flying trip to the moon. Why, it would be just too ridiculous, John, to see a young man building a home and furnishing it, and then ex- pecting a wife and baby to drop in because it's ready, as the wrens do. You know yourself you never would have had a home like this if you hadn't got married. How could you .? " " Do you call this a home ? " "Well, I suppose I have entertained some such idea when you were in a good humour. What do you call it ? " '3 m li MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME mil'^ "oPP'ng-place. Have you really let your mmd settle down comforubly to th^i, c.n,|. (( I suppose I have. My mind is of that order whicS .s said to be a continual feast Per- haps by a hberal construction it may mean a o%er'aTot"st"v; "^ ^^°^^''"^ ^' ^°"--' ^-- wit^^irrwltht:!' ^""'^^ °^^^ ^"^ -- - girl from Holyoke saw m her dreams and tried f^JeH ^T'^ °^ ^^' °^"' o^ sunshine and freedom and flowers and abiding security " wnrlH k •^°''"* T '"2^"''^"'^ P°^«'b'y realize a worM by yourself You were only a hemi- ingly. The idea of his being a hemisphere had certainly never occurred to him before. To the spheroidal masculine mind, .:ightly flattened at rivatmii"' '°"" ^" ^P'^*"^^ *"** * '^^P- " No," he said. " I'm not a hemisphere. Hemi- spheres do not kick." ^ He pulled out a ready pad and pencil. He JZt^^ ^ .- 7^" '^' commercial instinct sug! gested a shield. « Look here, let's be practical " he said "We have paid oit twelve^undred do lars for this flat in two years. What have you got to show for It.? If we live in this or some H : i t i i CASTLES IN THE AIR other equivalent canal-boat till that boy is twenty- one, somebody will walk off with " — he stopped to figure a moment — "with twelve thousand six hundred dollars of our money. Do I talk like a practical man ? " "I suppose you do, John" (very demurely), but It seems to me, and you know I'm not at all practical, that it sounds very much like a dis- contented pendulum." "Well, by thunder, a man ought to be dis- contented when he becomes a pendulum and swings up and down twice a day across this island, year after year." "But he makes the works go, John— when there is a balance-wheel. Isn't that what they call it r ^ "You see," said John, "how marriage takes the sand out of a man. If I was unmarned you couldn t hold my nose down to this. I'd make some brilliant mistakes, but I'd hit it in the lone run. o "Yes, and you would blow it all in— isn't that the s.ang phrase? — on the next chance." "I wonder if I would," said John, struck with a reflective shaft. 1^' Sure," said Lucy; "you were that reckless." And now I m getting to be a mill-horse. A hne conservative old hack at thirty, with a dead- eve prospect of treadmill gentility, lined with landlords for the rest of my life. Say, sweet- heart, does It comfort you to see all the fire and enthusiasm die out of your husband ? Why «5 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME in five ycatt more I will be like one of those travelhng things on wires that carry the money back and forth in the department stores. All you will have to do will be to stand beside your family altar and take the change out. You will not even have to shout « Cash ! ' which would be a great relief to the shop girls." « D?rf'? ^^ suddenly went off at another tangent. Don t imagine that I have any concSited opimon of myself I'm just the ave/age man- when I m out of your sight. There^re thou- sands of us in New York who make twenty-four hundred a ,ear. But we never get anywhere and every year our status is more precarious* tllT "°i P^°^^^!'°»^i '"en who can break ove; their boundaries with genius and make an orbit command capital and are necessities of labour. ,n t- L ^""T u"""^'' ""^"^ ^'^^ '^a^e given up all risks and chances, to drudge servilely without hope. But we are genteel." " Why do you say without hope ? " Because the conditions of personal merit and fidelity to an employer have changed in our time So long as our employers were individu- t^eifemnT"'^ -"cl app.ecfaeed special fitness in their employees and kept their eyes on fidelity, smartness, and honesty, we felt safe. It was to their interest to advance us. But all that is changing, passing into corporate irresponsibility Warne/'^He '°""'^P^ ^^.°' ^^ '^ ^"-^ Warner. He -vas with McCook & Haverley i6 ^ CASTLES IN THE AIR ten years. He knew every pulse of their busi- ness and managed his department like clock- work. He was a twenty-four-hundred-a-year man. But the nrm joined a trust, gave over the personal supervision of their business to the new brand of overseers, and the first thing thev did was to ship Warner, and put a fiftecn-hundred- dollar-a-year man in his place. The agent said that any man could learn to do in a month what Warner did, and if the first man failed there were hundreds of others to pick from. That agent looked Warner s stock of integrity squarely in the face and remarked: *We propose to run things on business principles with no sentiment • reduce expenses and increase profits. We esti- mate your worth at a thousand a year.' Poor Warner. He had four children, and he had been genteel up to the full limit of his twenty- four hundred. The agent said that the corpora- tion did not propose to leave the question of fidelity or fitness to the individual ; they had a machine which insured it. Do you know what happened to Warner ? " "^^J\^^ ^*^ y**"'' ^"end who was killed, wasn t he .? ' ' " He committed what the reckless fellows in the Astor House rotunda call * hurrycide ' I beg your pardon for bringing their heartlessness into our sanctuary, but Warner tried to jump for an electric car, and those fellows have a ghastly humour which attributes such an act to a man who has overdrawn his accounts, or has played »7 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME the tape-line too rashly. But the fact is, Warner suttered a kind of moral paralytic stroke. He couldn t realize that ten years of scrupulous self- sacrificinff attention to another man's business could end in that way. It bothered him, and it doesn t do for the average man to get bothered when on Broadway at the rush hour. If he takes his mind off the brink for a moment, he is gone. Poor Warner was probably thinking of his chil- dren, and the electric destroyer struck him on the left side." "John," said Lucy, with just the slightest tone ot appeal, " I never heard you talk in this de- spondent strain before. It is really quite pessi- mistic. Do the men in the Astor House rotunda indulge in such strains ? I feel quite sure that something has been said to you that you have not told me." John came and sat down beside her on a little cushioned bench and took her passive hand. Pessimist, my dear, is the worst misfit for me that you can find in the language. I was born in a rosy atmosphere. I saw castles in the air when the rest of my companions were making mud-pies. The aureole and I understood each other without words. I heard voices when the rest of the family were asleep. Good angels came out of the ideal world and took me at my word ; don't you know that, you fatuous, living corroboration of it? It is because I am such a bred-in-the-bone optimist, with such a compel- hng behef in the affluence and benignity of the i8 CASTLES IN THE AIR ordained nature of things, that I squirm and growl and kick as I find myself ycar\fter year robbed of them and doomed to travel up '^^d «tvi1nr ,f/"'-y,'''»'"^»y. becoming a mechanical !nH ° JV a dummy-cngine, with* less sunshine f.rii i"^""" ^""V y^^'' ^ "" 'f a prepos- terous nand-to-mouth existence, and we are drifting into the fatal habits of Wesley and his wife, content to snatch a few superficial excite- ments as we go and call them joys." h.-i:*" "^''^^Tv ^y P*"^"' ""dc'- a» this, for a high-spirited little woman who suggested hair- unni hl-^° -IT'y '''°"Sht that he was bursting initiative. Had he been less of a man and more of a woman, he would have detected in the corner f.Alu^^ * "*J^^ confession that she had pre- ceded him on this same route with less elocution ZrJ u- P5"^V''^ »-«icence, and was coyly watching him lumbering up in the same direc- tion. But It IS not in the nature of a clever little woman to dash a man's spheroidal sense of the ini lative by informing him that she is still "some furlongs on before," like his ideals. She only got up and went tip-toeing to the portiere, and peeped through a second, very rJiuch as the TJc-L f \"^^Vg°es to his binnacle and then, taking a look aloft, resumes his watch. fn n; k. '."^u^^"^^' '^ ""^^"^ ^" 'his occur to you to-night at the dinner table ? " ^ " I don't know. I suppose it was the pork 19 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME tenderloin. I probably reasoned unconsciously that a woman who could convert pork tender- loin into woodcock, would be very apt to turn a log-cabin into a palace of the king, if she only had one of her own." " My dear, do you think that you would be happier in a country home?" asked feminine directness. " It isn't a question of my happiness. If you suppose that I am thinking only of my happi- ness, you do me great injustice. I am sure that you would be, and that's enough. It is no use our tryinff to disguise to each other that we are slowly falling into the careless life that Wesley and his wife lead. It is inevitable, sooner or later, in this environment, and I have an old patriarchal instinct in me — I don't know whether I inherited it from my Virginia mother or my Massachusetts father, but tnose antago- nistic old states reached their homes across to each other like hands, and I instinctively rebel against canned life." " Against what ? " " Canned life. Domesticity in tins. Every i'oy embalmed and labelled and kept on a shelf. )uties in a row, always needing the same old opener and all having the same taste. Pickled surprises, condensed amusements, concentrated religion. The same half-pint of ready-made felicity if we go out, and the same quart of re- freshment if Wesley and his wife come in. Mod- ern conveniences on wires. Immortal souls in 20 CASTLES IN THE AIR model prisons. Great heavens, Lucy, think of it; blessed with such creative powers as yours, capable of— well, I will not say of making a pudding in a hat, for that's mumbo-jumbo, but of makmg a pork tenderloin into an astonisher. What could not your creative genius and magic fingers do if we might only jump off this shelf, and live somewhere in the bounty and sunshine of an uncanned life! " " You were always a dreamer, John. Do you think it is quite safe for a married man to fool with these early visions? When one settles down, there must be some disappointments, I suppose-— to men. We cannot be schoolgirls and wear leghorn hats and paint Marguerites after — well, not after somethmg has happened. Wait till I see if he is awake." When she reached the portiere and her back was turned, she added, " I don't see how you can relapse into illusions when facts are so pre- cious and practical." " Oh, you're a woman, and can only see one concrete fact at a time. I'm a man, and 1 have to take in the whole future. You've only one fact in your eye. I've two." "Two? Aren't you counting your chickens "No. The baby is so large in your mind that you can't see yourself, f have you both before my eyes. I don't believe that the youngster would have joined the trust if he could have had anything to say about it, and 21 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME knew beforehand that he was to be put on a likfhiTfi^L' can*I.boat, and become a pendulum nice his rather when he grew up." Lucy laughed, and John began to scratch his head with h.s lead pencil, as if ?o disentandc his about his w.fe, and they walked up and down the narrow room a moment, while, lover-like, he fnT^il^' ''°'" *""* P^"*"^^ °"f ^» ultimatum to the little woman. He"jaAtn *"^°^ '''' .*''*'"T. "'»"'» "manliness. He was tall and muscular and full of vital energy. His hair was cut short and showed his symmctri- cal head to good advantage. He carried it rather defiantly for a commercial man and an employee. in Lucy s opinion he was handsome, for he had a clear dark eye like an agate, a spare face as of a trained man, and a very superlative mustache; so the best we can do is to accept her view of him. Look here, sweetheart," he said, « we've got our fight to make, and we are not making it to the best advantage All the song has gone out of you and all the dream out of ml. A man and woman of our build cannot toil buoyantly unless with Zl ^' '°'' ^•■°^'."S ^P^^^ ^^' ^ P'^^^'-e, with present compensations of beauty and glad- ness. The reward must be in the doing as well as in the ending. A few years ago f had a knight errant s bravado, sweetheart. I stood on my egotism, tip-toe, and dreamed things. Now 22 CASTLES IN THE AIR " And you wanted to do them for me, dear ? " " Well, yes, that's about it." " And you felt at times that you couldn't be- cause you were married ? " " I felt that I ought to have done them before I got married. " But it's absurd to think of your doing them if you were not married." "And impossible because I am. That's the confounded snarl of it." " Why do you say impossible ? " "Because a wife is entitled to think that they ought to be done before she comes into the scheme. It strikes me as somehow rather mean to rush a girl into a mistake, and then ask her to help you pull out." '^ ' "I should just like to know exactly what you think women were made for, anyway, John Den- "*^°A* "°' '° ^^'P P"'' "^^" °"f of difficulties." "A nian will do a great many things," said John, reflectively, « that he will not ask a woman to do. " For example," remarked Lucy, and as John was thinking pretty hard, she added : " What's the use in talking this way forever ? Why don't you nlump it out ? " " I've been figuring on our future," said John, looking at his pad. "And it must have discouraged you," she remarked. " Well, yes. But there is a way out. That's what I want to talk about. I've got it all down." 23 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Then you ought to look a little more cheer- ful." "Our income," said John, "is twenty-four hundred a year, and so far as I can see, it is likely to be that for some years to come. We are living quite up to it. Would you like to hear the figures ? " " I'll hear them, but I fancy they will be quite familiar." " It costs us six hundrt d a year for rent." "Yes." "Nine hundred ar; I fixty for food." " Is that all .? " "A hundred and eighty for help — oh, well, there's the whole table," and he handed over the pad. Lucy took it and read it over. Rent ;f6oo.oo Food 960.00 Help 180.00 Fuel 50.00 Gas 50.00 Car fare 40.00 Clothes 300.00 Lunch down town . . . . 72.00 Amusements 150.00 Life insurance 24.00 Total $2,426.00 His wife's eye twinkled a little. "Why, where do you suppose that twenty-six dollars came from ? " " Don't you know ? " 24 --^ CASTLES IN THE AIR " I can guess if you give me time." "Of course you can. You took it off the edge of those other ittms. You cut down on food for a few weeks. I haven't mentioned church con- tributions, charity quarters, and extra cigars, be- cause they all had to be chopped off that list somewhere. But what struck me was that we might cut down the whole line, make a clearing as the pioneers do, and let the sunshine in gener- ally. But of course the pioneers were home- builders and mc.i, you know. Would you mind looking at this other paper .? " and he passed over a leaf that he had retained. It bore the same table, but it was accompanied by another, thus : — Rent . Food . Help. Fuel . Gas . Car fare Clothes Lunch Amusements Life insurance Total . Gain Gain (2 years) ACTUAL $600.00 960. C 180. C D 50.00 50.00 40.00 300.00 72.00 150.00 24.00 $2,426.00 1,492.00 2,984.00 POSSIBLC $300.00 500.00 40.00 20.00 50.00 24.00 $934.00 He was watching her nervously, and she took some time at it. Finally she dropped the pad in her ap and said, "John, we can't be genteel on that. ® " I know it," said John, " but we can be happy, 25 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME and we'll come out of the woods in two years, and build our own home. The only question is* can we give up being genteel for two years in order to be luxurious for the rest of our lives ? It is really a woman-question, but I can hardly expect you to see it as I do." Then she i lade a true woman's answer. " As it is all for me, John, I will try and see it with your eyes." And he acted just like a man whose speech fails him. He got up and kissed her. Having come to an understanding, this young couple sat for two hours solemnly conside-ing their future and the possibilities o'f escaping from the inevitableness of a genteel doom. John's proposition was to reduce everything to a mini- mum of expense for two years, and then, with the small capital, begin the task of building and beau- tifying their own country home. His wife had not calculated all the chances so patiently as had her husband, and she listened to him with deep interest and many secret misgivings. " Dear me," she said, " I wonder what Wesley and his wife will think of its." Just then there came three imperative raps at the door, which - way, and in came Wesley and his wife with arge vibration of exultant pleasure-seekers. " Halloo, old chap," came a chipper voice from his friend, as he threw off his cape-coat and came out in full-dress, with a sprig of heliotrope on his breast. "We saw your light in the windows, 26 3 CASTLES IN THE AIR and^says I, we'll climb and stir 'em up with a ves^enrTn ""7 ^^^^^^^^Y i" appearance and effer- come to dinner with us? Th ^ l^V- ^^^ crnxx,A j.^ ^^ ^'^" "« .'' There was the b eeest crowd I ve seen yet, and all kinds of peSle Do you smell the tobacco smoke in my^ ha^ p' For^y cents, wasn't it, Wes? Six couTsL and ^^^Ar^ythin^ No. Same old thine- e\rcni- *.u^ i You should have seen them "'^ P^P''" Lu'cy"' "" "■""' ""'' ""^ y"' '^ it? "asked " Oh, we didn't stay. I had my seat tievt f„ a woman who smelt Ld shone so'^thTi t made Wallacfc^s-^w ^ilce Y„? '^^'°-™°™» to that. Wes has TouTSts.^ sLrm'eTh'e tV.^ Lucv"-irA ,"'°"«^^™"'i'>g to-morrow night it tL, ^'i'l J"''.", ""th an impromptu mendac- 'ty that made his wife laugh '"enaac- " Wel/'nl '^..'■'P"^'' ;" I forgot that." well, 111 tell you what" wJH v»4.^ « meet me at Purced^s on S^^rday - we V" «'J our lunch and go to a m,t;„il u S^' worn that new bfa y'e".^^ •^ZTonJ'Z^Z: 27 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME breeze the baby." (Exit the two women in a through the portieres.) " What's the matter, old man," said Wes, "are you below par? Dinner at home, eh? Well, it affects me that way sometimes." " Oh, I had a little domestic figuring to do," said John. " Well, I should think you got figuring enough down town. Have you got any beer in the house ? " " Sit down. Lucy will be back in a momt.it. Did you hear about Musgrave ? " " Yes — played the races, didn't he ? How deep is he in ? " " I don't know. I only heard the rumour this afternoon. It will be in the papers in the morn- ing, I suppose." " They will do it. Jack. It's all in the way of life. I can roll a cigarette, of course ? Ye gods, how his wife did splurge at the beginning of the winter. (Lowering his voice.) What are you going to do to-morrow night ? We can take the women over to Wallack's and then go round for a while to the burlesque. There's a stunning lot of handsome women in that show, they tell me. Try one of these cigarettes — new brand." (En- ter women.) " Say, Kate, get that extra lace off now, and we'll stir up a rarebit. Jack's sluggish." " Oh, but we haven't any cheese in the house," cried Lucy. " We brought the cheese with us. What did you do with the cheese, Wes ? " 28 i ■A CASTLES IN THE AIR "I left it on the hat rack. Excuse me. I'll fetch It. You've got beer, haven't you ? " " My dear," remarks Kate, who is trying to disentangle hers'ilf for business, " you're blue I know how it is myself if I stay home 'one night. I have to take mv Broadway regularly, or I have neurasthenia. Have you had neurasthe- nia? It's the latest. Oh, I forgot. Luce, I've struck some five-button gloves dirt-cheap. You'll never believe it, sixty cents. I was looking at ^me ruching, and stumbled over them accidentally. This IS a pair of them. Wes says it's a mine. I wear so many gloves that I bankrupt him. That reminds me. Miss Partington had on a red dress to-night and green gloves. Society play, too. bhe s the worst dresser on the stage. I can't see what the papers make such a fuss over her for." « ZF^^^^^^ '^'^ because she can act," said John. " What was the play ? " " Why, it was— Well, there, I had it on the end of my tongue. What was the play, Wes ? I ve got a programme in my muff." " * School for Scandal,' " savs Wes, taking off his cuffs. "Old-timer, but we had the tickets you know. Now, then, if you'll waltz out the chafing-dish, we'll grill you one of the nimble rarebits." When this lively pair had gone Lucy said to her husband: "Don't growl, John, they are good-hearted people, and to-morrow night is ours," and the next night John made some more tables, and drew some sketch-plans of cottages 29 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME which he marked « Castles in the Air No. i and No. 2," after Lucy had leaned over and tried her best to add bay-windows and Romeo balconies that made them look very lopsided. The hero- ism of their project insensibly grew as they planned It, and the consequence was that somewhere about Easter they moved into a twenty-five-dollar flat on West Eighteenth Street, it being a great point with John to get farther down town, so that he could walk to his business in pleasant weather. The actual experience of the change was a far greater test of thc'r endurance and pluck than they had anticipated, and Lucy had several secret crymg spells, but they did not efface her deter- mination. The new conditions, distressing as they were in many particulars, threw her and John doser together than they had ever been before. They spent their evenings at home discussing and planning, and defying all the persecutions of their new environment with hope and mutual good humour. It is astonishing what a man and woman will put up with when there is a promise of escape ahead of them. John gave up smoking cigars and took to a brierwood pipe. He let his wife put up his lunch every day in a paper packet, and he ate it exultingly down in the packing-box department when the rest of his familiars had gone to the Astor House. He bought a student-lamp and turned off the gas, and to clinch matters wore his last-year's clothes. Whenever things were pretty hard to bear, Lucy would kiss the baby and take a look at the bank- 30 ■1 1 CASTLES IN THE AIR book. John often during that Jong fight, put his arms tenderly about her and said : « Couraec sweetheart. If it were not for you I would have month You shall be the Lady of the Manor yet. Courage. So it was that when Easter came about two years later and that latest member of the group had crawled out of the cradle and was toddline about, beginning to talk to his father with two syllables, John came home one night, climbed the three pairs of stairs to his flat, for there was no elevator in the house, and sitting down to his dinner tapped his breast significantly and said. " Eureka, sweetheart." ^ * " Has the cold in your head settled on your lungs.? asked Lucy, who once more had pork tenderloins trussed like woodcock. "JVIade the last deposit to-day. There you are and he handed the bank-book across the table. "Twenty-nine hundred dollars," said Lucv with a fine burst. "Why, it's beaten us at our own game. "Yes, partnership capital. I earned it and you saved It. I take back what I said about marrying being a handicap. It's a revelation. Consider yourself smothered with congratula- ^^°?A\rV^^ set yourself ready for business." What must we do next ? " "Get up early to-morrow morning, it being 5>unday, put on your warmest duds, and go down 31 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME on Long Island with me to look at a place which is advertised in the Herald. Can't we leave the baby with the janitor ? " " Heavens and earth, I don't think you know what you are talking about, John. I'll send for mother." 32 CHAPTER II THE SEARCH JOHN DENNISON and his wife were ordi- nary human beings like the most of us. Neither of them had the remotest idea of doing the heroic or the romantic thing according to the current examples. But we must not forget that the great bulk of the hero- ism of life lies among the uncelebrated persons who do their duty unflinchingly and never know how heroic they are. A very practical and a very common ambition had taken possession of John. It had been months growing. It was to possess a home of his own that would return him something for all his labour on it, both in the shape of physical benefit and mental satisfaction. He and his wife had come to understand each other, and they had accomplished the first and probably the most difficult step towards it. They had by dint of 33 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME self-sacrifice and some humiliation of a very natu- ral pride, saved up the money that was necessary for a start. It had been a long and often a weari- some struggle. But it had been lit by a new companionship and common purpose, and made endurable by a new hope. The next step prom- ised to be more springy. It was to begin the search for a spot somewhere on earth that they could make their own and join hands still closer in the beautifying and preservation of it. The effort that looked so pleasant in the pros- pect proved to be beset with disappointments, aggravations, and discouragements before they came in sight of the final results. And you must understand that, however much in common a man and woman may have in life, however close they grow together in affection and in pur- pose, one remains masculine and the other femi- nine to the last. Try as they will to see things with the same eyes, things insist on looking un- like to them. Lucy's idea of a future home had been slowly shaping itself in her mind. A cot- tage meant to her a solid, embowered, and invit- ing stone house, with bays and recessed portico and mullioned windows, all smothered in guelder roses and vibrant with the songs of birds. She had probably caught this picture insensibly from some English book, and it was associated in her mind with beehives and nodding poppies and vistas of lawns and hedgerows. John, on the other hand, probably saw the thing in its crudest and most elemental condition, and found all his 34 THE SEARCFT satisfaction in creating the other thing out of it. 1 his IS the difference, as you shall see, between the masculine and feminine point of view. John was to find out that what he wanted was not to be had for the asking. He cut advertisement after advertisement from the papers, and he went off on many journevs of inspection and learned a good many sound lessons before he got through. The first of these journeys would have damp- ened the ardour of almost anybody. He had cut from a newspaper the following advertise- ment : — " "For Sale — on Long Island, farm of twelve acres, with cottage in good condition ; thirty-five miles from City Hall. Good, productive, healthy sitj Terms easy. Apply to Ira Quick, Lime- clifl=; Long Island." Sunday morning was selected, and John took his wife with him. The railroad did not reach Limeclifl^ by two miles, but they encountered Mr. Ira Quick at the last station, where he kept \ I ^'^^'^' ^"^ ^^ promptly offered to drive them down. The way was not inspiring. They crossed vast downs, studded with advertisements • they passed through one or two nascent cities, rectangularly laid out but not vet budding into houses. They sped along against a brisk wind, seeing very few signs of spring. The skunk cab- bage showed green spots in the lowlands, and there were some verdant gleams of grass in shel- tered places. A premature bluebird twittered occasionally. The general aspect was raw, un- 3S MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME I kempt, and barren, save where German women, despite the day, were working in their truck gardens. " Think of farming ? " asked Mr. Quick, who was a short, thickset, black-whiskered man with a horsey air, a larse watch-chain, and a cigar, which latter he used mainly for masticating pur- poses. " In a small way," answered John, evasively. " Chicken farming ? " " No, sir," emphatically. " Well, you see it sets that way generally with most of the city people. I thought I'd ask. Tried it before, maybe." " I am simply looking for a place that will fur- nish me with a suitable home." " And we are quite particular about appear- ances," added Lucy ; " it must be inviting as well as productive." " Then you've struck it between the eyes, and dirt cheap," said Mr. Quick. " Want a place, I dare say now, that will suit the lady — no mos- quitoes, chance for lawns, flower-beds, and all that sort of thing. I've just got it." Mr. Quick, being a horse man, was very anx- ious about the high-stepping team that he was driving, which was unusually fresh, and once or twice ne got out and gave his attention to the harness. The roads were in that condition that is experienced only in the early spring after a long frost. They had been cut up into heavy furrows by the truck wagons of the farmers, and had 36 THE SEARCH frozen into cast-iron ridges, the outer surface of which the warm sun was now converting into a slippery slime, so that the light wheels of the vehicle slipped and fell and twisted about in a manner that produced upon Lucy the effect of a very large Faradic current. She was beginning to experience a pain in her back, when Mr. Quick ran his horses up to a board fence, and jumping out, began to tighten his straps here and there. His two companions surveyed the landscape in silence. It was an open prospect, for Long Island at its best is not Alpine. They saw one house, not unlike an exaggerated dog kennel, sticking up in the near distance and breaking the horizon line as a buoy in the ocean might do it. "Anything the matter with your harness?" asked John. " How much farther have we to go?" " No farther. This is the place. You'd bet- ter get out here where it is hard." "You sit still," said John to Lucy, "and I'll go and take a peep at it." " But where is the cottage?" she asked. " Let us drive to that. It's more important than the soil." " There you are," said Mr. Quick, pointing to the dog kennel. " That lonely thing ? " asked Lucy, with un- bounded amazement, standing up in the vehicle. " Looks a little rough this time of year, you know," said Mr. Quick. "You won't know it 37 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME in two weeks. I s'pose you understand," he added, turning to John, "that the real advantage of this country is that we've got the Gulf Stream within reach. The farmers up state would give a good deal to have the Gulf Stream flowing past their acres. Why, we're three weeks ahead of Jersey with our peas, and as for spinach, well, sir, it 11 squeeze through the snow if you don't watch it. Let me show you the house." " I don't think we care to see the inside," said Lucy ; « it wouldn't suit us." John was not so rigid. "I think we'd better look at It, now that we're here." "Of course," observed Mr. Quick, leading the way, "you are a practical man and under- stand It's the soil that tells the story. What you want is a fine, sandy loam with a tight subsoil, isn t It ? " & » " What's the price of this property ? " asked John, cutting him short. " How high do you want to go, Colonel, for a tarm.? I have refused fifteen hundred dollars spot cash, for this eligible piece. Did you think ot doing anything in cabbages ? " T r ^!l^^ '? ^^^ "^^ °^ o"*" looking at this place, John ? said Lucy. . r » " Because if you did," continued Mr. Quick, Ignoring the lady entirely, « I can give you a pointer — stick to the early Wakefield. If there's any cabbage in the market that the Gulf Stream takes to. It's the early Wakefield. There will be a great rush down here in a year or two 38 THE SEARCH The papers haven't worked the Gulf Stream yet. Now s your time to jump in." ^ This experience stuck up in Lucy's memory for a long time, like the sharp roof o/ that house She never forgot the forlorn aspect of the cottage leLtlf"^^'^ 'f''^"^ '^ '' ^' '^^ " Gulf Stream residence. To her eye it was like a lost spar in the ocean, and she thought of herself clinging to It and waiting tor her husband night after night making his way from the nearest station, wien she parted with Mr. Quick, it was with something of a suppressed hatred of him, as if he had mad! a dastardly attempt to smash her ideal, and he with an easy combination of horsey courtesy and rough irony, tipped his hat to her and invited her ltr"'u^r'' ^?'i" .^^^" ^^^ ^^^^'^e'- was set- tled. There might be a triumphal arch or two and a pianer on the lawn, seeing that those were modern conveniences when a man wants to farm " Altogether this experience was an unfortunate one, and yet it taught John several useful lessons One was not to prospect on Sundav; another was to make some inquiries by mail before spending money on railroad trips, and above all not to taki his wife until he had made a preliminary examina- tion. 'Good Heavens," he said to himself, "if I wanted her to plant roses, I wouldn't take her mto the manure heap with me first." But John was not discouraged. At the solid- Rnr.h .1 ^'^"r i*"^ investigated Staten Island. But that beautiful sea-swept domain seemed to him, on examination, to be a very delightful 39 I MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME metropolitan convenience only, where happy people, mainly in search of sea air, could always have the city in sight and be quite sure that it would not disappear while they were bathing or cutting their lawns. Its accessible nearness was not an advantage to him. He thought he detected in the worried aspect of some of his business friends who lived there, a continual responsibility with regard to the ferry-boat. They held their watches in their hands at the theatre, and generally hurried out before the play was over. The atmosphere of the city extended to Staten Island. (Since John made his visit the authority as well as the atmosphere of the city has extended there.) When he inquired what a man could do for himself on a piece of ground lOO X 50, he was triumphantly told that he could fill his lungs with sea air, and to John's practical sense this seemed an insufRcient pastime. Then he journeyed up the Hudson as far is Scarborough to look at a snug little farm on the hills. Here, again, he fell into the persuasive arms of an agent. Scarborough is a delightful hamlet just above Tarrytown, lying in a cove of its own, and forever gazing into Haverstraw Bay with dreamful eyes. The snug farm was a mile and a half from the station. There were seven acres and the remnants of a solid old-fashioned farmhouse thereon, canopied by some ancient apple trees. But stretching away on either hand were vast parks ; great preserves of the men who, instead of going to Paris when they die, take it 40 M. THE SEARCH out of the Hudson while they live. The price of this remnant of former agricuitu- days was SIX thousand dollars. It took Jv ' ./s breath away but the agent pointed out the view and the neighbours. « You have the Beekmans on one side and the Rhinelanders on the other. You can look into the Rockefellers' grounds from your second-story window, and throw a pitchfork over into the Shepards' from your barn. There IS no other place on earth where land brings vou into such good society." " ^"f. ^'TV "°f ^"ying land to get into good society, said John. ^ "No?" cjeried the agent, with a slight loss of respect m his manner. "Not trying to get out of It, I hope?" / 5 " gcc ** Well, yes — rather." " Haven't you come to the wrong market ? " asked the agent. "Perhaps you'll object to the " No — only to the price." "That's what we're selling up here. You r"J| T ^Kru'^'^r .''^" "^g^ °" '^^ Northern Kailroad. Why don't you try Elmsford ? Prop- erty drops a couple of hundred dollars an acre as soo^ as you get out of sight of this noble river." 1 his astonishing piece of information was verified by subsequent examinations, and John learned by slow degrees that a man with only two or three thousand dollars could not afford topo- graphical aestheticism. He was also slowly learn- ing that there was a distinction, sharp and clear, 41 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME between rural and rustic. Rural meaning coun- try life that does not relinquish the city, and rustic meaning country life that is independent of it, and doesn't care much more than a dollar and a half after haying time for it. To enjoy the unquestioned privilege of easy and uninterrupted railroad facilities, genteel neighbours, macadam- ized roads, picturesque surroundings, and above all, VIEW, was to become a suburbanite. He found that he could live thirty miles out on the Hudson, and come to the city every day at a commuting rate of eight dollars a month. He could get home at all hours. There were theatre trains all the year round, and all the morning papers for breakfast. 'In addition to this, one enthusiastic friend had told him that the price of land kept out an objectionable class of people, and they were rustics. Most of his friends had been buying modern conveniences in the rural market ready made, and were paying handsomely for the goods. Why was it not possible to construct beauty and independence your own way from the bottom up, with the safe assurance that the conveniences would come along in the course of time ? April and May had slipped away and part of June was gone. As the warm weather overtook him and his m(e in the cheap flat, he began to get restless. He felt that he had deprived his wife of many of the comforts and luxuries of a genteel home, to which she was entitled, with a plea of great achievements, and so far they had come to 4i THE SEARCH naught. Lucy did not upbraid him in words, nor did she complain, but her appearance itself was a contmual reproach. He saw that she was weanng her old dresses, and that the drudgery of economy and a narrow routine were beginning to tell in her face. Much of her enthusiasm had cooled and the embowered cottage of her dreams had receded under the pressure of trivial and incessant duties. But, woman-like, she did her best to disguise this from her husband, and when he had fits of discouragement, she cheered him up. « Don't get blue, John," she would say ; you will accomplish your purpose in time. Have patience." But a man is usually so built that patience in inaction is an impossibility. That IS why he is such an inferior invalid to a woman, if he cannot overcome, he collapses. "Sweetheart," he said to Lucy one sultry morning, « you must get out of this with the boy Go away to the seaside. Go home to rtolyoke. Do anything for a change, before the summer is over. I'll rough it here without you " „ " T'^^^'s ,77 well meant, John," she said, but It wouldn t make it any pleasanter when I got back. I'm all right as I am, but I would like to send Harold away till fall. It does seem to be a shame to coop him up here all summer. Wesley and Kate have gone to Narragansett „ 'v ^"PP°^^' ^y ^^'^^ tin^e, for their vacation." "Yes," said John, rather resenting the sug- gestion, "and it will cost them ten dollars a da?. What will they have when they get back .? " 43 M MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME "I can't imagine, unless it should be brighter spirits and better appetites." " By heavens," said John, flaring up in- stantly, " you shall go to Newport or Cape May and spend twenty dollars a day if you say the word. I can afford it better than Wesley, and you have earned it. All you have to do is to crook your finger." After this he gave his attention to the railroads that focussed themselves in Jersey City. In a broad way he conceived of them as running off southward to genial climes through Jersey, Penn- sylvania, and Maryland, but beset anywhere within reach of New York City by populous manufacturing centres. His recollection of jour- neys in that direction when going to Philadelphia or Washington, was of Newark, Passaic, Tren- ton, Elizabeth, hives of workers, with an atmos- phere of smoke, and who retained in their communal aspects the groupings of the great masses in New York. Somehow it seemed to him that he did not bfiong to these energetic toilers, and could not take his wife into a manu- facturing district. Unguided and undetermined, he one day looked down the long lists of stations duly scheduled under clock faces in the Erie depot. There were so many branches of travel that they tangled themselves in his mind. He wondered at the innumerable towns that he had never heard of and could not fix on the map. But some of the names sounded pleasant and invit- 44 \ = THE SEARCH ing;: Ferndale, Hohokus, Mount Ivy, Oradell, Rivcrcdgc. One of these columns ended sud- denly with Suffern, as if that were a kind of pas- toral limit, and Suffern he knew by reputation. He remembered that an old friend of his father's lived somewhere in that vicinity. The next minute he had bought his ticket and was climb- ing aboard an Erie train, guided only by a sud- den impulse. In an hour and a quarter he was at the little station, looking about him at the great gap in the mountains, and wondering to nnd himself so suddenly at this unexpected Alpine gateway through which one must pass to traverse the state. If the reader will stop here a moment and look at the map of the country immediately west of the Hudson, he will see an arbitrary line, drawn diagonally from a point on the Hudson River a few miles below Piermont, running northwest through the middle of Greenwood Lake, and ending against one of the outlying spurs of the Blue Ridge. This is the New Jersey state line, and north of it lies an interesting triangle, each side of which is twenty miles long and which en- closes two hundred and eight square miles. This is Rockland County, New York. Its northern point is not more than fifty miles from the City Hall in Manhattan, and its southern limit now comes within a pistol-shot of the extended city. But to this great dense and tumultuous world, the domain is virtually a ^erra incognita. It is known only by its suburban towns here and there 45 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME RortL'^"?^' ^"^*l*l.Stony Point, Nyack,and Rockland Lake or Suffcrn and Tuxedo on the Western trunk line of the Erie road. Between those points lies, m its original serenity and wild- ness, an unknown pastoral tract of diversified beauty, untouched by the hand of speculation and undisturbed by enterprise. Its roads are possibly the worst in the state. Its railroad facili- ties are uncertain and wide apart. Its villages are isolated and moss-grown. Its inhabitants, save along the boundaries where travel goes by are the descendants of the original Hollanders who settled It, and who have left upon it their incorrigible antipathy to change or improvement. Originally this tract of country was included in ^.'•J"ge Co"nty, and the whole domain flowed with milk if not with honey. Our fathers identi- fied milk and cheese with Orange County, and felt erateful to Rockland Lake in what the/called the neated term, for it furnished them with ice. iHurther than this the world was not interested. Two trunk railroads now traverse the county. But they give little heed to it, for they concen- tr^vll"'"'p"\T°1 °;^ ^^"' '' ^*"^d "through travel. Rockland County is regarded in In indulgent way as something to be crossed in get- ^'"l-K^V^ r ''°"''"S into New York City. 1 his bit of history and topography is necessary If one IS to understand the surprise of a man like John Dennison when he finds himself left by the ongoing railroad at such a station as Suffern. He feels that he has severed the link that con- 46 t i THE SEARCH nects him with a competing and conquering world. He ought to have eone on. If he leaves the safe vicmity of the railroad, and goes through the pp of the hills into Rockland County, he will be lost in a Bculah Land, where there are no trolleys, no asphalt, no building associations, no depart- ment stores, no roof gardens, no ambulances, no slums. Nothing but sleepy old roads with stone fences on either side covered with bittersweet and blackberry vines ; nothing but old houses hiding among lonely cloisters of beech and butternut. Somewhere the little Mahwah River will come flashing and singing down from the hills to join the Ramapo, and together they will set out wan- dering in the most reckless manner to find the Passaic, and then they have fallen nine hundred feet, for that is the height at which the man stands in upper Rockland County above sea level, and, save for the distance, he would have to look down at his feet to find it. Such absolute rusticity so near to the great city cannot be found in any other direction. From any of the highest points one can always see at night the great electric aureole of Manhattan in the southern sky. From Mount Ivy one can discern with a glass the pier of the Brooklyn Bridge when the air is clear. From the knolls of Tuxedo the mists and reflections of the Atlantic shimmer low down in the east, and from the jagged peak of the Thor at Haverstraw, the waterway at Its feet spreads out into an inland sea and lies like a shining pathway to the Narrows. 47 m MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME John went into the nearest village store and inquired for Philip Swarthout. The young man who was drawing molasses asked him if he meant Pop Swarthout — he was over back three miles. John got the direction, went to a livery stable, hired a buggy, and set out eastward to find Pop Swarthout. He said afterward that as soon as he left the village he felt like a man who had lost the combination. In ten minutes he had aban- doned the last vestige of metrooolitan life. He looked about in vam for the familiar advertise- ments on the rocks. One or two daintily dressed bicyclists passed him as they hurried back to their summer boardine-houses in Suffern. He jogged leisurely along the road, which was on a low ter- race that followed the curves of a little river, and was buttressed on the other side with the great hills whose redundant vegetation swept down to the highway itself, and often completely arboured it with oaks and chestnuts. As he left the sound of the coughing locomotives behind, songs of birds and the murmur of the water enhanced the drowsy stillness. The smell of hay came heavily down the valley, and he could at intervals hear the click of the machines in the distant meadows. Occasional shingle roofs peeped from the trees in the middle distance, giving evidence of carefully screened and modest residences, but there were no gentleman's grounds, no park palings, no pre- serves. Everything wore a luxurious and tangled unconventionality. The hedgerows bent over the roads in inextricable snarls of dogwood and 48 THE SEARCH elderberry. The paths wound through waving June grass and v mothy. Agriculture had not parted company with landscape. Most of the nouses that he passed were separated by long and often half-wild tracts. But there were comfort- able, unpretentious, and unmistakably country houses, naif hidden by old trees and wearing heavy veils of Virginia creeper and wild trumpet- honeysuckle. Nearly always they were enclosed by old gardens in which phlox and lady's-slippers and tansy were conspicuously mixed. It was evident to John that he had reached a country where both the Gulf Stream and the human stream had ceased from troubling, and where, he suspected, it might be always afternoon. When he had gone about two miles he came to an old-fashioned white picket fence running along the road, with a piece of white paper tacked on the gate post. He got out and read it : " This house is for rent. Inquire of Philip Swarthout." The house stood about sixty feet from the road. It was an old red sandstone affair, a simple paral- lelogram without ornament except the climbing roses had covered one end of it. It stood in the centre of a wooded area, several fine old trees throwing their shadows across it. He tied his horse and went into the enclosure. The path was overgrown with waving June grass. He knocked at the door, and after several knocks re- ceiving no answer, he walked round to the rear, and was surprised to find a big porch running the entire length, and flanked at one end by a honey 49 i ^ MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME locust and «t the other by an apple tree. The ground swept in a gentle slope to the river, which e could see flashing and dancing throush the trees, as it wound along a lush meadow. He sat down on the step of the porch and enjoyed it. The Ramapo Mountains rose up in the west, with their forests and cliffs sharply defined, and in the Baps he could see the billowy distances of the Blue Ridge. It was a singularly restful and beautiful scene, and he wished he had brought Lucy with him. " I wonder," he said with uncon- scious irony, " what this view is worth — probably something utterly beyond my means." He knocked at the rear door and got no answer, but mechanically trying the knob, it opened into a little vestibule. He knocked again, but there was no response. He looked in at the nearest room. The sun was pouring in through the fes- toons of roses round the deep windows. There were several pieces of furniture of antique shape and a rug or two, but the place smelled of soot. He walked to the window and admired the deep stone sill with its drift of rose leaves in the cor- ners. The breastwork of a brick chimney pro- jected into the room, and the fireplace was closed with a framed canvas upon which were painted in bold artistic way, some ferns and cattails. A few imprisoned wasps were weakly crawling over the panes. When he tried to open the window he found that it was nailed fast, and he wondered whv any one should nail the windows and leave the doors open. 50 THE SEARCH Then John went out again upon the porch, and noticed for the first time a pail with a scrub- bing brush in It, and a new broom lying close beside it. This was like Crusoe's discovery of the footprint, and almost immediately there rose "if i?T •'""* ?•""* * stalwart maid, with high check bones, cold blue eyes, and a gaping mouth full of white teeth, with her sleeves rolled up and her red hands on her hips, looking at him with astonishment. " i was just examining the house," said John. I see It IS to be rented. Where is Mr. Swarthout ? " The girl, still staring, said : « He ? He in the grass IS." " Good heavens ! " said John. " How long since It happened > I didn't know he was dead." " He ain't dead. He's gettin' in his early hay — over there," and she pointed one bare arm in an uncertain direction. " Are vou hiring it ? " " Well, I might be. Do you live in ft .? " " No, I'm going to clean it." She pointed once mce with her arm, and John set out to find Mr. Swarthout. He discovered him at last in his hay field superintending the men who were getting in his crop. He must have been at least eighty years old, but he had that shrivelled activity and sly acumen which belong to these veterans of the field, and he handled a rake with easy dexterity. When John told him who he was, the old man looked him all over, grunted, and said : " Yes, I 5» MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME ) knew your father. He'd known better than to make a visit in haying time." John saw the significant looks of the men, as if they were saying to each other, " Oh, the old man will take the conceit out of him." " I didn't come to make you a visit," said John. " 1 wanted to inquire about a piece of property you have for rent. If I interfere with your haying, I will find somebody else whose hay doesn't interfere with his humour," and John turned on his heel. " Hold on," said the old man, throwing down his rake. " Want to rent, do ye ? Tell you how it is. I've got a nice piece of grass here, and these men are workin' by the day. You see I wanted to get it in." This was meant to be apologetic. "Perhaps you'd better not bother with me, then," said John. " So you're old John Dennison's son, be you ? Come from the city, I s'pose." " You've got a house down there on the road with a bill on it which says apply to you. Have you time to give me some information ? " " Gosh, 'pears to me you aire in a hurry." " Not at all ; I have plenty of time, — more time than patience, as you might say." The old man drew him on one side. " Want to hire for the summer, I s'pose ? " " I'll tell you what I want to do when I know what you ask for the place." Well, now, young man, I'll tell you how it 5^ u THE SEARCH is, if you'll let me do it in my wav. I built that stun house sixty year ago. Tnere's a bit of five acres that I set off to go with it when I sold it." « Sold it ? Isn't it yours ? " "Yes — it's mine. I sold it but it came back to me. Country property has a way of doin' that, 'specially when men that buy haven't got much patience. Then, you see, I rented it ; calculated to get the interest on it. It's worth a hundred dollars an acre. Countin' the house in, I expect to get fifteen hundred dollars for it. At six per cent, that would be ninety dollars a year. I've got that for three months in the summer. Did you think o' buyin' ? " "Had a notion of that kind," said Johi, "Did you think of selling?" " Sell anything I've got 'cept the family Bible, if I git me own price. Let me see, what kind o' business did you say you was in ? " " Real estate business at present," said John, throwing out his chest. "S'pose you come down to the house," said the old man. " I guess these men will get along for a bit without my watchin' 'em. I calculate you won't stay up here more'n three months, and I'd have to ask you the same rate as fer a year." " If I come here at all," replied John, " I shall live here permanently. Do I understand you to say that you will take fifteen hundred dollars for the house and five acres ? " S3 m MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " That's what I'm askin'. It's an old-fashioned house, but it's solid, and so am I, young man." "There is some furniture in the place. To whom does that belong ? " " It belongs to me. There was a pair of gad- ding young painters hired the house last summer, and I had to furnish it. You don't do any paint- ing, do you ? " "I'll make a thorough examination of the property and give you an answer before three o'clock to-morrow," said John. " You'll have your hay in by that time, I suppose." The old man's eyes twinkled a little. "I've got two hands yet," he said. " One of 'em can fix your business whenever you're ready." John thought that one of them might have been extended more cordially, but he only said : "All right, I've got two that are disengaged. I'll use them both between now and three o'clock to-morrow. Good morning." " Hold on, young man, you're a deal younger than I be and do things on the jump. You'll have to hire that horse agin to come back here." " Certainlv." " Well, it you stop here you won't have to. You might as well save a dollar where you can. I'll send your horse back." " Thank you," said John ; " I might be in the way." " I dare say," replied the old man. « Young men who jump about as you do are very apt to 54 THE SEARCH be, but we might do some business while you're skipping round." That was the way in which rustic hospitality lumbered up in the re.-.'- of business. So John stayed there, and the next day he surprised himself and then surprised Lucy. But for that we shall have to go to the next chapter. SS CHAPTER III THE HOUSEHOLDER THE next morning John Dennison made a careful and long examination of the stone house and the grounds. Mr. Swart- hout, who accompanied him, was astonished at his deliberation and particularity. He did not under- stand that John was measuring the possible while examining the actual house. He saw him pace the length of the wooden paling in front, and heard him say, " It is about two hundred feet." The house stood sixty feet from the road and faced northeast. Its length was about fifty feet. There were six trees between the door and the gate : three chestnuts of ample breadth, a beech, and two elms. On the south of the house was a bunch of cedars, another elm, and a mass of shrub- bery. The house itself was a massive, unadorned structure, with a door in the centre open ng into a square hall of vestibule, on the south of which a partition divided the breadth of the house into 56 THE HOUSEHOLDER parlour and dining room. On the north were two similar rooms, one of which had been used as a kitchen and the other as a bedroom; intermediate were stairs, hallway, and closets. The walls, of red sandstone, were eighteen inches thick and twelve feet high to the eaves. John mounted the stairway and found two bed- rooms, over the parlour and dining room, that were lathed and plastered. They were twelve feet square, and there was space at the northern end or the floor for two more. The vines were so thick about the windows that they darkened the rooms, and a thousand bees were humming against the panes. The dust lay half an inch thick in corners, and the cobwebs were pendulous from the ceiling. John measured the spaces with a two-foot rule, marking the results on a pad. He poked his fingers into the shingles at the eaves to see if they were rotten. He gave the old man an improved opinion of his keenness. Then they walked over the grounds, going down the long slope through the clover and the June grass, where at one time was a path still clearly defined by the lilac, syringa, and witch- hazel bushes on either side. Between them the wild pinks, the dandelions, and the red clover w, *-e matted inextricably together. The boun- dary line of the property on the north was marked by a heavy stone fence three feet thick and four feet high. John waded through the grass and nspected it curiously. Its lower line of stones was made up of large boulders, some of them as 57 it MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME big as a barrel, and their faces were covered with licnen and moss. He knew instinctively that several generations of farmers had pulled them out of the adjoining fields and piled them up there. The picturesqueness of the sturdy breast- work, a thousand feet long and embroidered with blackberry vines, did not occur to him then. He was thinking of it as a quarry. " You wouldn't object, I suppose, if I took the upper end of that down and put a wire fence in its place ? It would look better from the road," said John. " Never object to anybody's buryin' a stone wall," said Mr. Swarthout. " If he can stand it, I kin." " I don't suppose there is any drain from the house?" " No, sir. We didn't build drains when that house was put up." " How far is it to the river ? " " I calkilate about a thousand feet." " Five-inch drain-pipe," said John, reflectively, "at twenty cents a length — cost me about a hun- dred dollars." "What will?" " A good drain." Mr. Swarthout himself considered. " A man at one-fifty a day will dig fifty feet of drain a day, and fill in a hundred a day. The way I figure, by leavin' the pipe out, it would cost you forty- five dollars. I wouldn't throw money away." " No, I don't intend to — at least not doctors." 58 on THE HOUSEHOLDER " You ain't goin' to do any manufacturin* busi- ness, aire you, in that place ? " " 1 expect to live in the place if I buy it. I am trying to make up my mind if it will be habitable." "Say, look here, I don*t know what your tastes aire, or what kind of business you might want to carry on," said Mr. Swarthout, "but there's an- other place about half a mile further up the road that might suit you better. 'Tain't so exposed as this, and ye ken hev it fer half the price. I've got my horse out there; s'pose you jump in and take a look at it." "Very good," said John, climbing into the wagon. " 1 might as well see all your goods." John was then taken up the road, and when they arrived at a wild piece of timber Mr. Swart- hout hitched his horse, and they made their way through the underbrush to the bank of the stream, where there stood one of those extemporized houses that tourists and sportsmen sometimes throw together for temporary use. It was a story- and-a-half house with battened sides, and a chim- ney in the middle of its peaked roof It was enveloped in foliage and weeds, and had been used the year before as an outing-box by a party of anglers, who came up for trout fishing. " I think," said John, " that you might throw that in if I buy the other place. I could use it as a smoke-house." " Well now, see here, my friend, this is a good, quiet spot. With a 'ittle draining and filling 59 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME in, and grubbine out a few trees and bushes, it wouldn't be such a goldarned bad place, after all, if a man wuz lookin* fer quiet and wanted to improve." John looked into the house and fancied that it smelt fishy. It then occurred to him that the wily old man had brought him there to enhance the value of the other place by contrast, which John thought was not such a bad idea, after all, and he might work it himself with Lucy. They then started back and resumed their inspection of the former place, John desiring to see the property from the foot of the hill. When they reached the bottom of the declivity they were among the alders and dogwood that were interspersed with some heavier birches and chestnuts that shaded the bit of meadow. It was a very pretty, sylvan spot, upon which the butter- cups, forget-me-nots, wild pmks, and oxalis were in full bloom. The little river, twenty feet wide, moved sluggishly through sunshine and shadow along the level among the trees, fringed by her- baceous growths, through the openings in which one could see the cattle grazing on the opposite slopes or lying partly hidden in the meadow- fesque. A cool, damp air, fragrant with flowers and hay, swept by the two men lazily, but they gave no heed. " Mr, Swarthout," said John, " I have made a pretty good estimate of your place. I'll tell you what I'll do. I'll give you fifteen hundred for it, one thousand down, and five hundred to remain 60 THE HOUSEHOLDER on bond and mortgage for five years at six per cent." " You think of improvin' it, don't you ?" " I certainly do. It isn't exactly what I wanted, and is hardly fit for my wife in its present condi- tion. But if I buy it, it will be for a home. What do you say ? " " Well now, I'll tell yer. I like to help a man who goes in fer improvements, and if you don't want to pull on your capital, 1*11 take half down and let it run for three years." " No. I've made my calculations to a cent. You've heard my offer. Five hundred is all I want to carry. It will take two or three thousand dollars to put the place in shape." " Hev you figgered to spend that ? " " The roof leaks. The well runs dry in Octo- ber. The bedrooms are unfinished. The boards in the back porch are rotten. The front fence has to be straightened. The ground is overrun, and the house nas no drainage. The only things about it that recommend it are its site and its solid walls, but I suppose there are plenty like it, if one could hunt through the county." " Yes, that's so, young man ; but you won't find anybody that's agoin* to throw in half an acre of garden planted. You see I calkilated to rent it this summer, and so 1 hed that garden sot out. "I'll take a look at it," said John. He found an ample kitchen-garden laid out with a row of raspberry and currant bushes along the stone wall 6i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME fiicing the iouthwcst. The result of this invcsri- gation put him in a good humour, and he went back with the old man to his home and there the agreement was made. « u" ^ *'l*" .8° ^°^" ^o the village," said John "have the title looked into, make a deposit, and sign the papers as soon as the lawyer can make them out and my wife arrives. You see, I've got a two-weeks vacation, and intend to finish up Fhc matter while I am here. I shall sleep in the house to-night, if you don't object. 1 iaw a cot there and al)Iankct. Perhaps you can tell me of a good man that I can hire by the month for general work on the place." " You can't hire 'em in hayin' time, unless you pay em more n they're worth." I I! ^^^" y^l f '^'l^ "P * *"*" ^" t*»e c«y/' said John; "it's full of men." ' The next morning about half-past four he woke up just as the sun, like a spark, was burning through the eastern trees. He sat a moment oH the edge of the cot in his own house, and felt that he had taken a desperate step. The first ques- tion that he asked himself was : " What will Lucy think of this? Well, I've taken the fatal plunge, and I guess I've got to make it all right A woman expects a man to bring her a scheSe under "^Vcl^Jl"^ ^° ^"y o^ the extra hustling her- . self. That conclusion reassured him, and he proceeded to make himself a cup of coflTee in the fireplace While he was thus employed, he heard the cornet-voice of the Norwegian maid 62 THE HOUSEHOLDER outside, and the next moment her sulwart form and good-natured face appeared in the doorway, a generous picture of Innocent astonishment. " You live at here i'' she inauired. "Yes, I buy him," said Jonn, unconsciously adapting himself to her idiom. "So? You hire me?" " Yes. Do you work by the day or the week ? " " I work so 1 get the most money." « What is the most ? " " One dollare a day." "All right. What's your name ? " "Tilka?' "I'll hire you for a week on trial. I want somebody to help me get this house to rights so I can bring my wife." "So? Goot." "Open all the windows and the cellar door. Scrub all the floors. Carry all the rubbish out- side, and tell me where I can get a man to cut the grass." " You buy me a scj^the, I cut it myself." He looked at her with admiring awe. " You'll have enough to do," he said. " Can you cook ? " " You bring some food, you shall see. Mabbee you hire my man." "Oh, you have a man. What can he do? Can he take care of * Iiorse ? " " So well as if he was born in a stable. I can myself take care of him." *' Can he plough ? " " He can that plough almost so well as myself." 63 BW MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME "Where is he?" « Mine Gott, he works in the hay for one dol- larc and a half a day for three days, and then he waits three months for notting, because one dol- lare and a half a day is too much. It is better, I .?V*'° /*'?'■'' ""^y ^^^ "°f so '""ch, ain't it ? " Much better." said John. « Bring him here to-night so I can see him." As he swung off down the road he saw her look- ing after him, with her hands on her hips, a lusty figure, that made him think of one of Rubens's pictures that he had seen somewhere. The two- mile walk at that hour was a delight. The river accompanied him the greater part of the way, now brawling and plashing with a pleasant noise, and now spreading out hushed into shadowv pools flower-fringed. He strode along with an exhila- ration that was new and unaccountable. When he thought of it afterward, he was ama/ed at the amount of work he did that morning. But it is so with all of us. When a creative emotion takes possession of us, our faculties surprise us with new energies, and events imitate the rapidity of our thought. ^ ^ John was now mainly intent on preparing a sur- prise for his wife. Instinctively he felt that it was his duty to accomplish inste'ad of theorizinc any longer, and he proposed to himself to take the initiative and show Lucy his dream in full swing. Something told him that she was begin- ning to regard his scheme with doubts, and had too much affection for him to tell him so. This 64 K^ THE HOUSEHOLDER consideration more than any other, perhaps, in- fluenced and piqued him that bright morning, givmg h.m an urgent and slightly authoritative air that he thought of afterward with some amuse- ment. It was nine o'clock when he found the office of the lawyer to whom Mr. Swarrhout had recom- mended him. As the gentleman was not vet at- tending to business, John went over to the railroad station and looked at the time-table. There was a train at ten-thirty. That would get him into New York somevhere about noon. It would take him an hour to go to the bank, gef his lunch and an hour to get back. He would be in the cottage again by three o'clock, prepared to do business. He walked to the largest store, found that their delivery wagon would be going up the road early in the afternoon, bought some grocer- ies and ordered them sent to the cottage. Then he hunted up the lawyer in his office, a Mr. Brad- dock, a comfortable, middle-aged person with gray-white side whiskers and a beaming face. He was engaged with a toy, trying to get three or ioiu globular little pigs into their pen. He grc r-d !r:s visitor pleasantly, offered him a •^ ovi r; rji^ir, and without 'relinquishing the J ir-yt. hyijned indifferently and amiably. "I've seuJ: d the title of that property three times wKhni two years," he said. « There's an abstract ot It in that pigeon-hole. You can have it for five dollars," and Mr. Braddock smiled as if legal business were in some way a practical joke that he 65 I I I I MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME occasionally indulged in. " Think of buying the place ? " " I have bought it," said John. " Mr. Swart- hout will be here to-day to have you make out the papers." A pleasant smile spread over Mr. Braddock's face as he turned the puzzle in his hand. The humour of making out papers appeared to be a pleasant memory. " Coming up here to live? " " Yes — hope to." Mr. Braddock hunted the pigs a moment re- flectively. A mild recognition of the pleasantry of coming up here to live seemed to flit across his face, as if it were one of those plaintive joys that are pleasant to dwell upon. "I want to catch a ten-thirty train," said John. "If you will give me that search I will pay you. I expect to be back here at three o'clock to make a deposit, and have the papers ready for my wife's signature when she arrives." Mr. Braddock took the search out of the pigeon- hole. It was neatly folded and indorsed, but rather dusty. He handed it to John, after knock- ing the dust ofl=; put the five dollars in his vest pocket without looking at it, very much as if it were an allowable interruption, and said : " Have you seen this new toy .? It's quite ingenious." " No," replied John. « I'll study it when I have more time. You don't know of anybody who has a cheap horse to sell, do you ? " 66 THE HOUSEHOLDER Mr. Braddock walked smilingly and leisurely to the door of an adjacent office, stood there a moment turning; his pigs over, and then said inci- dentally as he looked at the toy, « Benton, did Sully get nd of that horse he was trying to sell ? " "Guess not," said a boy's voice in the next room. " Saw him driving it yesterday." Mr. Braddock came back to his desk, took a card and wrote on it, « Salem Sutton, horse for sale," and handed it to John, with a superior and complacent irradiation that made the whole trans- action look like an amiable indulgence. At two-twenty John was back from the city at the depot, and not long after three o'clock he and Mr. Swarthout were bowling along the road in the latter's box-wagon. As they came along John said : " If you can pick me up a cheap horse somewheres that will not be too disreputable to take me to the depot, and not too proud to plough, I'd like it. What ought 1 to pay for a makeshift brute ? " F 7 * "Better wait till fall," said Mr. Swarthout. « That's when they get rid of 'em so as not to hev to feed 'em all winter." " But I can't wait — must have any kind of an animal at once," and he pulled out the lawyer's card. " Do you know that man ? " Mr. Swarthout could not read it without his glasses, and John read it for him. "Sale Sutton. Oh, yes, I know both animals. How high do you want to go ? " " Don't know. I suppose I can get a horse at 67 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME one of the car stables in the city, a little foot sore, ki '•'^°^'*" * ^^^^ ^*" answer my purpose for tt",,?*^"^*' '^'"'"^ ^"y Sutton's horse for ye. He 11 soak it to yer." "Very good," said John. "I'll leave it to you. About an hour later, and just as John was washing himself in a pail of well-water prepara- tory to sitting down to an extemporized dinner that the girl had prepared for him, Mr. Swart- hout drove in with Sutton's horse hitched to a rather dirty and wobbly box-wagon, md John had to go out and inspect the animal. It was a gaunt and gothic, dirty-white specimen of equine architecture thick about the ankles, large in the hoof, slightly corrugated in the flanks, and a litrie harness-worn on the shoulders. John looked at him in dismay, for he had nourished a picture of a pony in a chaise with a woman in a lawn dress driving in a sprightly manner to the depot to meet her husband. Mr. Swarthout interpreted his disappointment very correctly. " You want a horse that's good for three or four years hard work, don't you, and that will feed up respectable when he gets where there's oats, and you don't want to pay over fifty dollars ? Now, that animal ain't no thoroughbred, and Sutton sprained his off hind leg draggin* ice up the moun- tain last winter, but there's five hundred dollars' worth of work in him with good treatment, and he s yours for thirty-five dollars. You take my 68 ' THE HOUSEHOLDER advice and buy him. He's only nine years old. I know when he was foaled." Somewhat against his inclination, John agreed to buy the horse, and then Mr. Swarthout sug- gested that the harness, with a stitch or two in the breeching, was well worth five dollars; and as for the wagon, it was sound in spoke and axle, and if there were new washers on the wheels and a bit of pamt, it would make a serviceable runabout and was well worth twenty-five dollars. " If I wuz goin' in fer improvements," said the old man, " that's just the kind of Jumper I'd snap at." As John stood there considering, he saw Tilka's bro9d face at the window, and she beckoned to him earnestly. " Wait a moment," he said, " till I come back." When he was in the house Tilka said, " How much he sell you for, that wagon ? " I* He wants twenty-five dollars for it," said John. "Mine Gott, I could buy him yesterday for fifteen doUares." ^ " All right," said John, « you buy him. I'll g've you a dollar. Here, I give you sixteen dol- lars." " I don't want the wagon," said John, coming out. « I'll take the horse and the harness for forty dollars. But I've got a girl in there wants to buy a wagon." " I buy him, I buy him ! " shouted Tilka, rush- ing out and shaking her money. "Why, what will you do with the waeon Tilka ? " asked John. ^ ' ^9 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME "'i/'V.y..''"^ y,ef e«-day for fifteen dollares." fifteen H^ii ^'' S.^"^J?o"t, « you give me the fifteen dollars. I can't aflFord to send down here to take It away again." VVhen this bargain was completed, Mr. Swart- hout coolly told John that he had made five dollars X l^^.^'P^'^^'^^yJor he had got the horse for thirty dollars. "But," said hef-you don't ob- Well, I 11 tell you, neiglibour," said John, "you expected to make ten on the wagon ? But vou ought to look into a man's mouth as you do into a horse s when you try that kind of business. If you II look mto mine, perhaps you'll see that I've got my eye-teeth cut." This seemed to tickle old Swarthout, and he '^^"VT^*^" .^'"S with quiet satisfaction. i Ilka, said John, as he sat down at the table and admired her stalwart form while she stood between him and the fireplace, not unlike a beam- ing caryatid, he thought, ready to uphold the whole scheme with her sturdy shoulders, "how much of the house did you clean ? " « I clean him all," said Tilka. " I dean two houses like this m one day. You do not send me u^xT ,f° ^ ^^f ^'"^ '^'"^ r^ss this evening." . No, remarked John ; "I don't want such a jewel as you are cutting grass. Where's your man r ^ " He come right away. I give him his supper here — you don't care .? " ^^ 70 THE HOUSEHOLDER " Docs he know anything about a garden ? " "He knows almost so much as 1 do mvself" "Does he drink?" ^ * "Shust some beer when he can get. That is netting, I guess. I drink some myself." Half an hour later, as John was sitting on his back porch, smoking his pipe and surveying his domam, Tilka's man made his appearance, and John then remembered to have seen him in Mr Swarthout's hay-field. By the side of Tilka he looked a little dwarfed and submissive. He was undersized, sun-browned, and unkempt, but sin- ewy withal, and suggested, as so many of the field hands do in that part of the country, that all of the natural juices have either been evaporated by exposure or concentrated somewhere out of sight " What's your name ? " asked John. " Thev call me Mart up here. I guess that will do for everyday use. Martin is what it was in the first place." **He is that ashamed of his name that is fool- ish, said Tilka. "I think it is Martin Luther bmidt, when I was to him married then." " Very well, Martin Luther," said John, " eat your dinner and then come out here, and I'll tell you what kind of a reformation I have in mv mmd." ' It was very pleasj^nt out there just at that time. 1 he western glow gave a golden radiance to the wild stretch. The swallows were darting in the evening air. A heavy odour of flowers hung about the place, and the stillness was soothing. Pres- 71 4 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME cntly Mart came out and stood with his hat in his hand. "I want," said John, "to get the place thoroughly cleaned up at once; the grass cut; rubbish burned; fence-posts straightened ; stable cleaned and patched up; garden attended to; horse cared for ; supplies brought from the town, and between time, all the help you can give here in the house. Can you plough? " •j5m.*^*" P'°"8'' ^° g°°^ ^''^e I can myself," said Tilka. ' ' " How about gardening ? " "It is so good a garden as you will not see in a mile. I make him myself," replied the girl. You want all this done in a week, boss?" asked Mart. « Yes," said John ; « I'm not going to hire you tor a year at a dollar and a half a day. You can make up your mind to that. I'm hiring you for a week on trial, because I like your wife? If the prospect scares you, say so at once, and I'll look out for some one else." ^^ « I guess he will that do as I think," said Tilka. It is much petter, I guess. He can that work so much petter as he looks; but he talks not so mooch as me." Tilka's exuberant vitality was a constant won- der to John. She had an unfailing fund of strength that nothing exhausted, and it always manifested itself with a copious good humour that was admirable. Her husband was not unlike a domestic protege that had come obediently under her executive wing, and was quite content to let 72 THE HOUSEHOLDER her take all the credit for his methodical toil, as It saved his breath. * TilLi """^^"'^ ^°" ""*" ""'^^ ' " J"***" '^''^ '° "I milk four cows every morning before break- fast for two years," said Tilka. « I think you Keep not more as one." . « Well, Mart," said John, « IVe hired your wite. Suppose we consider you thrown in for a week for a dollar and a half a day ? " Mart laughed silently, and waited for his wife to answer. " I guess," she said, « he is so good as hired," and then she laughed, too. Contrary to appearances, John found that Mart had considerable character of his own. which he took good care never to put in the way of his wife s lusty and exuberant egotism. It was an understood arrangement, apparently that she was to make her vitality represent the firm. But the moment Mart began to swing a scythe, John saw, in the steady gait and dexterous rhythm, that he knew his business. « How much grass IS there on this place .? " John asked. " I cut a ton and a half last year off it," said « «n. . ^"^^^ "'^ ^^°"^ ^*^e same this year." " What's It worth .? " ^ " Ten dollars a ton." " Fifteen dollars," said John to himself " Why 1 m a speculator. How long will it take you >" he asked. ' "I can cut an acre and a half a day," said 73 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Mart, « if you push me. I can borrow another scythe, and my wife can help me, if you're anxious." "No. We'll take it easy and clean up the top of the hill. The garden's the main thing. What do you want for that ? " " It's got everything in it but tomato, egg- plant, cauliflower, and late cabbages. You can get the plants in town. There's peas there ready to pick now, and lettuce and radishes." "What, ready to cat?" " Yes, and they ought to be tended to. The pie-plant ought to hev been pulled a week ago. You'll have strawberries there to-morrow." " Strawberries ? " " Lots of 'em. The patch was only set out last year.^ Do you think of gardening ? " . ".J*^*''^ ^^^ proptr thing in the country, isn't " Do you expect to sell .? " "Can't sell much off five acres, I guess." " Not such an awful deal," said Mart, " but the lower part of that field is pretty good soil, when the rest of the hill goes dry. I think I could squeeze out a couple of hundred dollars on celerv there." ' " I'll think about it," said John, as he walked away. The next morning he let Mart drive him to town in the old wagon. He stopped at the wheelwright's. Some new washers and a new whiffletree improved the conveyance consider- 74 , THE HOUSEHOLDER ably, and the wheelwright suggested that a coat l^l^rTT ""'^^ ''* very^espectable wagon As for the horse, several cleanings and a baf of oats had surprised him into a sfate of ac??vity that was encouraging. When they came s ow J ainary freight the necessity for which had never looked T:^"^ uT ••^e'^"'^ calculations. He looked at the bill with some dismav. There were fifty .terns on it for preliminary trifles thi? n cessrv^A^f'^'^K'^'t^^^ "-' «^-'"'eIy necessary. Among other things he had bought himself a pair of overalls, a blu? flannel shirrand a stout pair of working shoes. ThureqrnDed he went about his outloor task with a g^oXlt somewhat surprising Mart, who was ?iiden '* studying his employer keenly, and try n^ o By Friday an enormous amount of work had been accomplished, and John set off in The after noon for the city to bring his wife. He Hncered and fdt'thr; ''' '""^ ^'^^ ^° '^'^ at^he pCl and feit that, squatty as it was, it now bore the P''?"'! ?^ ^ ^^^^'•^" whose beard had been shaved and hair trimmed. ^^" reflTc^t'an^n'h' t^" °" '^' ''•"'" g^^^ '^•"^ time to reflect, and he began to study his memorandum- sum U^lTtf '"'^'' "PP/"^^' ^^^" ^^ «aw the sum total at the amount of money he had already ^agHookldlikeThLrr '"""'"-^'^> -^ 'h^ 75 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Paid on Property Lriwyer . for Hor*e . •• Wtgon " HarncM •• Tools . << " Horie-fecd . . . , •• Provisioni " Naili, tacki, wire, etc, . <' Lime, soap, soda, etc. . •' Washers and whiffletree . " Pails, brushes, etc. . . Window-glass and putty . Bucket and rope for well . •« Overalls «* Heavy shoes and shirt •• Wall-paper and hanging . *' Barrel of kerosene «• Coal •• Buggy hire and car fare . •• Tilka Due for help Miscellaneous items .... f 1,000.00 $.00 35.00 iS.oo 5.00 5.00 1.15 4.80 .60 •45 1.80 •95 .48 ••55 .60 3-50 9.50 6.00 5.50 3.80 1. 00 I $.00 $.00 Total $1,126.68 Under the general term of " Miscellaneous " were included such necessary trifies as curry-comb, stable broom and fork, matches, screw-driver, scythe and sickle, and wheelbarrow. Having studied this grim settinc-forth to his heart's content, he consoled himself with the idea that he had bought everything in the world that he could think of, and pushing the book into his pocket, he went into tne smoker and began to calculate the effect of it all upon his wife. He arrived in the city about seven o'clock in the 76 THE HOUSEHOLDER evening. On the ferry-boat he met an old artist acquaintance of his wife's whom he had not seen for a year, and who was returning, he said, from a tramp out in Jersey. It was a fine opportunity for John to ventilate his new proprietorship and see how it worked. « By Jove," he said, "the country is beautiful. I've just come down from my DJace, and I had to tear myself away." "Your place? Are you living in the country .? " " Why, certainly. You must run up this fall when the autumn foliage is right. I'll have my wife drive you around. She will be delighted to see you. Fresh vegetables and milk will set you up, old fellow. You really must come up." " Sure," said the artist. " You can depend on me. Where is your place ? " " It's in Rockland County. All you have to do is to come to Suffern, and let me know when you're coming. I'll meet you with the team." This sounded so fine to John that he was tempted to carry the experiment a little beyond bounds, and had to restrain himself. He found his wife sitting in dishabille at an open window, fanning herself, with her face set in a reproachful expression of injured innocence. He bravely put his arm about her, gave her an unceremonious kiss, and proceeded at once to explain and apologize. " You see," he said, " I wasn't coming back this time without something to show. What you want, my dear, is results, md you want them 77 MKROCOTY RISOIUTION TBT CHABT (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) Ik IB msA 1^ 12.2 1^ ^ APPLIED IIVHGE 1653 East Main Street Rochester. New York 14609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288-5989 -Fox MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME before the summer is over. Well, you are to get up early to-morrow, and take the boy, and t^H Zl' 'nid ^°""' ^'^^.^Hing of which'^we aret search Did vou ever hear of the Mahwah ? I "^u M^'^.f ^ °^•^ myself until a few days ago." ^ No, said Lucy. « What is it, a river ? " saw '' """"^ beautiful little river you ever ask^S : -°°''''^ °"' °^ '^' ^'"'^^^ ^"^ '"^reJy " Is it connected with the Gulf Stream .? " 78 CHAPTER IV ON HER OWN THRESHOLD IT was a shining June afternoon when John Dennison, accompanied by his wife and boy, set out for the country. He had not told' her that he had closed the bargain. Perhaps he knew best how to deal with his own wife, there- fore it hardly becomes us to criticise him. He hired a conveyance when he got off the train, and they were presently driving along the river- bank, John calling attention to every special fea- ture of beauty as they passed. " There are two places," he said, " that I want you to look at. One is in the woods, and is not only remarkably cheap, but is beautifully situated on the river, away from the road and delightfully sequestered, you know. The other is more swell, perhaps, and nearer the town, but I don't think it will meet our views so vvell. I am going to leave it all to you to decide, and I am anx'ous to 79 J. MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME see if you will agree with me. One of them we must have. uii^rt *'"'' it a. lovely country!" said Lucy. I d like to wade in that cool river. It reminds me of Holyoke. I do believe those are elm trees; and there are pond lilies. Tell the man to drive slow. There is an old mill — as sure as you live, It is the regular old thing. It makes me want to paint. I haven't seen it for years — since " ^ " ^^"' ^l^at do you stop for ? Since when .? " Since you and I sat on the old flume and I tried to make you think I was an artist." " You didn't have to try very hard, sweetheart. Lo you see that white house through the trees up the road, beyond the bridge ? That's where Mr. Swarthout lives. He owns about a hundred acres all around here." ^ They were driving past the old stone house just then, and he caught a glimpse of Tilka at the corner of the house watching or for them But Lucy was looking straight ahe. a, trying to follow the direction of John's finger, and Tilka was left behind in a state of wonderment. They had to stop several times so that Lucy could jump out and gather some of the wild flowers. It did his heart good to see her old sense of enjoyment come back. Poor girl, her eyes sparkled and a new colour gave a pleasant animation to her cheek, one had not had an outing for two years. When they arrived at the wild spot where John and Mr. Swarthout had gone through the jungle 80 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD to the solitary cottage, he said quite cheerily as he assisted her and the boy out: "We have to feo through the woods — there's no path. But that gives a fellow a fine opportunity to do his own clearing. I always had an idea that a house hidden away from the road must be cosev and quiet. ^ Lucy was too much engaged with the wild beauty of the tangle to pay much attention to him, but when they came to the house itself John pointed to it with mock pride and said, ^ Now, there s a nook in the wildwood that I instinctively felt would catch your artistic eve — It s so embowered." Lucy struck an attitude of wonder and re- marked : "That thing? — Let's look at the other one. "Now, my dear," began John, "consider the practical advantages. In the first place, we've got water at the door. When the cellar is pumped out — by George, I forgot to look if there is a cellar— and it's cemented, the trees cut away, the roots pulled out, the land filled in and ditched and drained, and a road made through the thickets, it will be quite ideal." " Dear me, it makes me tired to think of it," said Lucy. "Don't think about the house. Let us take a walk down the bank and look at the river." " Don't you want to see the arrangement of the rooms.?" "I'll take your word for it. If you have set your mind on that thing " 8i I MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME T u^l"' ofcourse, if you think of buying that, 1 shall do my best to be satisfied. But wouldn't It be cheaper to hire a tent ? " " I know it looks a little lonesome in its pres- ent condition But when we have cleared away the forest and redeemed the land and rebuilt the house But Lucy had taken her boy's hand and was walking toward the river. John followed ner. w^J^""'^^^^^ '*°^.'"'' P'e^se you," he said, ifiere is no use in our staying. We mieht as well go and look at the other spot." ^ When they entered the vehicle he continued in the same strain to praise the secluded wildness and even to hint that he had her artistic love of Nature in vle^y in selecting it. She did not en- courage him, but gave herself to the luxury of the drive and when they arrived at the stone house, she remarked: "Why, I noticed this house when we drove past," and he wondered If she had seen Tilka out of the corner of her eye. 1 his IS my second choice," said John. « We have two hours before our train time, and we can take a leisurely look at it." As the team drove away he had to explain to her that it would come back for them when they wanted it. « Now you will observe," he said, as they went up the path and he led the way round to the rear of the house here the view at that moment was at its 82 ON HiiR OWN THRESHOLD best, "this place has five acres, but it is more exposed than the other." " What a spendid view ! " said Lucy consider if vi-^ws will return anything. Suppose we sit here on the porch a moment and TU tell you all about it." Tilka had placed a commodious and comfort- able rocker there. John pulled it round gallantly and Lucy sat down The roses hung rolnd her and the golden light danced througfi upon hen John thought that she looked more like his old sweetheart than she haa appeared for years. The distant hills were rimmed with a soft purple, and the valleys between poured a splendour of sunset through that tipped everything with a golden radiance. Somewhere a song-sparrow was bub- bling over with a vesper preludium. The little river spun itself in yellow meshes down among tne trees. The air was heavy with the odour of flowers and hay. " You see," said John, « this place belongs to Pop Swarthout, and there is a Mrs. Smith in it taking care of it for him. We'll go in and look at It presently when you are rested." « t" Y^,. T"'^ "°^ ^^'g^^ o"*" f''^'"'" she said. 1 shall be starved to death before we get to New York, and Harold must be very hungry ^o"der if we could get a glass of milk here?"' Oh, I guess so," said John, quite indiffer- ently. Let me tell you about this place. Are you comfortable ? " 83 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Very. I wish we hid more time." " Plenty of time, my dear. Do you know, you look just like my old Holyoke girl as you sit there under the roses. Confound it, I think the air up in the woods by that sylvan cottage has brought back your old expression. Well, as I was going to say, Swarthout wants fifteen hun- dred for this place, but I can get the other for five hundred, and I have always said to myself when I found my extravagance running away with me, I will take my wife's advice." " There are many old houses like this in New England," said Lucy, musingly, as she rested her chin on her hand and gazed away into the pur- pling west. "I think it is rather colonial. Not one of them ever has a bay. I used to won- der if our grandfathers knew how to make a bay." " It's the easiest thing in the world to put one on. I'll show you my plan for improving that place in the woods." " How many rooms are there ? " " In that little cottage ? " "No — in this." "I'll show them to you — but first we must get a bite." Tilka appearing at the door at that moment, he said, "Mrs. Smith, this is my wife, Mrs. Dennison. I want to show her over the house. Can you give us a bite of so.mething to eat ? " The women looked at each other with quick appraisement, and Tilka said : — 84 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD "The dinner has that long bet waiting for you that it will soon be no good." " Dinner," cried John, jumping up. " What a capital idea ! Come, my dear Harold, mv boy — dinner. How does that strike you ? " He gave his wife his arm with a sudden courtliness, and Tilka held the door open as they went in. Even a tired and hungry woman must melt under this treatment. Tilka had prepared a banquet. That exem- plary Norse woman rose in John's estimation suddenly to the proportions of a gigantic fairy. She had obtained a white cloth somewhere and the pine table disappeared under an inviting spread, with a monster dish of lady's-slippers garnishing the centre with dewy colour. She had managed to roast a little breast of lamb — Heaven only knows how — before the open fire in the kitchen. She had fresh peas that melted in the mouth, and little round crisp radishes ; heaped-up bowls of luscious strawberries and jugs of cream from Mrs. Swarthout's ; a white loaf of home-made bread and a platter of fresh butter from some unknown source, and to cap *' - 'Umax, a lettuce salad, cool and fresh and ' i. a had served everything at once and stood uly surveying her performance with her bare arms akimbo. "Are you not going to sit down, Mrs. Smith ? " asked Lucy. "I guess you talk some business, hey, ain't 85 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME it, ^whilc I do my work ? " said Tillca, backing Mrl^^mTh'""'"''! 5°!;''''^««"on on the part of Mrs. bmith, said John, sotto voce. « MV dear 1 hone you ve a good appetite." " It's a luxury to eat a dinner that somebody else has prepared.;- said Lucy. « WhereTo you suppose she got those splendid berries .? " Why, she picked them in the back yard. That woman would make her fortune if she had a piece of land -like that we saw in the woods --and It was all cleared and drained. Don't hurry -plenty of time. I want you to walk down the h.ll and see the grove a^d the rTv r and the garden and the stable." "Why, is there a grove — and a river — and a garden — and a stable ? " "You bet," said John. « Every modern con- tub .nH '""P'f ^°' '\^ r^^ ^^^«^' «'*^'onary tubs and gas. Let me help you to some mo.-e of^these peas -they, too, are out of the back uJ'sr^^^" "'' ^"^>^' " ^^^^ - - robbing " Very well," said John, « if you have any conscientious scruples of that kind watch me -I and Harold. You do the talking " font T"''^^ '^'l'" ^^? '"^"' ^^« fi^'s'^ed, John took his wife through the rooms, venturing to disparage them a little with great delicacy. The Urge chamber overhead with its rose-embroidered windows and its meagre but tidy furniture, with 86 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD a bed on which was a spotless and restful white counterpane, caught Lucy's eye. "What a fine " Do you think so ? You should have seen the rooms in the other house." They inspected the kitchen and walked out to the brow of the h.ll and Lucy showing some signs of weariness, John led her back to^ the pofch again She would have given much to have been able to take her corset and her heavy shoes off and sit in that rocker for the rest of the even- thrn s? ' " "^^^ ^^" "^"^"^ °^ ^^^*« Tohn « r°"'V "'^ '"""''' ""y '^^*''>" remarked John I ve been waiting to have you decide. <-an t you make up your mind ? " " You prefer the other place, don't you ? " Well, as I feel a little tired, we can talk it all over as we go back to the city." " Oh, no, let us make up our minds while we are on tie spot," said John. "Mine is made up," said Lucy. « I much prefer the house in the woods." " What ^ ou don't mean it ? " .Sa^^^'u '" ^^^ ^^^^ P'^*^^' 'f's so sequestered, and you have set your mind on it " m.n^^ ' u^v^^^ ^^ ^^' ""'^^ Considerable astonish- ment. You are not serious," he said. turned h ^^ u '^ ^^ce Very straight, though she turned her head a little awayf "Yes The 87 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME other place has grown on me since I've been here." " Oh, but I'm not at alt set on the other place, my dear." "What — not set on the filling and ditching — and grubbinff — Why, John, do you know, T house." think it would be quite a novelty to "ve in a bath Then she broke down and began to shake a little, and John began to whistle. " Sweetheart," he said, " I give it up." " Oh, don't," she replied. " You brought me to this dreadful place so that I would appreciate the other, didn't you ? For Heaven's sake, let us go back to the sylvan spot in the wild wood." Then she put her handkerchief over her mouth, and there was nothing left for John to do but to pull it awav, at which she said quite earnestly : — " It's all right, John. Now let us catch our train. I'd like very much to spend a day or two here, but I must get back where I can take my things off and thmk it all over." "You don't have to go back to do that," ex- claimed John. " I smuggled your wrap and slippers into my travelling bag. They are up in your chamber. You can make yourself comfort- able in your own room and get a good night's rest, and be up with the lark to eat a breakfasi: that will be waiting for you without your getting " It's all yours, and all you have to do is to It. take possession and put your name on the bond. It's all done and fixed bev^nd recovery." ON HER OWN THRESHOLD " But Mrs. Smith ? " " ^°n't «ay « word aeainst Mrs. Smith. She nl« P"""/ ''"'^r ^''^^ ^°'- » ^^^J^ and subject H^roW - %'"^ *'"'■:>' r^"- ^'"^ «°«"g to give Harold a ride on the back of ourliorsc. I)id Cd'^'w •'''•.- °"'* ^°"^' ^''' o^ Arabian blood. Wait till you see him." .K Jrn°°l *'°?^ '" ^^^ camber, gazing thoughtfully through the roses. To be sf sud? den ly converted from a guest to a hostess and mistress was a little confusing. There was something like a suspended pout on her lip John, at the last moment, had left her out of the determining act and consummated their scheme distinct. Suddenly she heard the voice of Harold and she pulled the roses at the window asiJe and looked out The boy was seated on the wh"te horse, his father holding him on as the a^iml! wTh% 7' V^l'^^eh the grass under the window with h.s head down. She heard John telling the boy that It was a work horse, but that his mfther was going to have a pony and then she wo. Hht him drive it, wouldn't that be fine .? The evening light fell across the i-roup pleas- antly, and they looked very happy. The pout slowly disappeared. After%ll,The .a^d he is thinking only of me. Then ^^, hurrie Jy put on her wrap and went down. ^ ^ t-JV' ff°"^ "°''"S that a change of attire some- times affects a woman's disposition. Lucy came 89 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME out quite buoyant and beaming. When John said apologetically that the horse was only a " pre- liminary plug " to do the rough work, she patted him on the neck and said she thought he was "just lovely." The June twilight fell on them, walking to- gether under the trees ; the stars came out ; the frogs began their evening hymn before Harold evinced signs of sleepmess and they returned to the house. John had to show her every point of vantage, and colour it with his ideal improve- ment. When at last they sat down in the cham- ber and Harold was put to bed, Lucy said, " Now then, John, you've shown me everything except the accounts." Out came the pad. She looked it over some- what rapidly and said : " Are you quite sure that it will bring all the results that you have been dreaming of so long ? I almost tremble for fear you will be disappointed." " And so^ I might be, if it were a dream. But it isn't. It's a plain matter of fact. I've kept to the mathematics of it with my teeth set, and I am determined that it shall be no dream for you. The great job for me will be to make it worthy of you." That was quite rhetorical for John, and to take the edge off, he paraded his pad. " Listen," he said. " I've calculated that we cut our rent down to fifty dollars a year. That is the interest on five hundred dollars and the taxes added. Just take that piece of paper and 90 ' i ON HER OWN THRESHOLD pencil. I'd like to see what you make it. Have you got rent, fifty dollars ' " ;; Yes," said Lucy. « Rent - fifty dollars." Ihen put down help, man and woman tweney_five dollars a months that's Three hu": dred a year — Have you got that ? " thatpSep"""'"'"^'^'^'P^°^°-^^--^t "Never mind that now— we'll ask Mrs Smith about ,t to-morrow. Put down commuta- andeTghTi^^rl^^^^ " Yes — a hundred and eight " "Horse and cow at a maximum — say one hundred and fifty a year." ^ " Gracious," said Lucy, "I didn't know that cows cost anythmg to keep in the country ! " They don t, after you've been in the country ong enough. Now add living expenses - saT twelve hundred a year. What do you make it '" ei.h; h""!! " ""Z '''^"'""^ ^'S^' ^""dred and dotn't'kl'"- ^'^ ^°""^^^ '''' — ^'g^ " '^'•"e — but consider what we are getting for the money. There are some things that do^ not home. Then we have our g.rl back where she belongs - out of the kitchen. Finally we have a prospect. There isn't a mathematician on earth can put that down in numerals. Every stroke of work we put upon this place is like puttmg money mto the savings bank. I feel like 91 w I I I \ / I ! i ; ! MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME going and hammering a nail in somewhere now — don't you? Then there is something more, but I don't figure on it yet. I only contemplate It as an alluring margin. That garden ought to pay our mterest and cut our living expenses down one-half. We've been figuring on a cow as an expensive luxury, but she might turn out to be a handy producer." " But, John," and this was said with a hesitat- ing reproach in it. " You haven't said a word about the sixty miles of railroad travel every day ; the ride from the station in all weathers ; the pos- sibility of accidents." " No," said John, carelessly ; " and I haven't said a word about the luxury of doing one's duty when it isn't a hardship, and taking the man's load on one's own shoulders and redeeming the prom- ise that I made to you when you took me for better or worse. I haven't said a word about the roses that will come back into your cheeks, and the songs that will begin to nestle around your heart again and break out from our baby's lungs. I haven't said a word about the inspiration there IS m work and danger and drudgery when love stimulates them and victory stands ready to crown it all. Do you think I can command the language to do these things justice ? " " Why, yes," replied Lucy. « Do you know that as you stand there now, it seems to me that you would have, made a splendid exhorter. Mrs. Smith will think you are preaching." John laughed. " I guess she takes me for a 92 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD missionary already and expects me to convert her man." " Then I'll encourage her in the morning by telling her how you converted me. Now, I'm going to bed, for we have to catch the train in the morning." " Can't you get that infernal train out of your head ? You're not half converted. If you were, you'd go to bed and sleep without a thought of trains. You would know that I will go to the city, bundle up all our effects, and dump them at your feet here, and all you have to do until they arrive, is to take your boy by the hand and rest yourself among the roses, and let Mrs. Smith do the walking with her stalwart legs. If you are not converted to that extent, then have I preached and plotted for nothing." It was not so easy to go to sleep with all these things tumbling over each other in her mind, but somehow the soft, cool air, with its burden of rose bloom, swept past her steadily as she lay on her pillow, and presently she sank into a half-con- sciousness that love was deliciously fanning her with a new wing. The next day, being without John's stimulating presence, she set about her own unbiassed scrutiny, as a woman will. She inspected everything care- fully, noted that the kitchen had no shelves, that the vestibule was dark and narrow, that the ceil- ings were low, that all the water had to be carried from the well, that the boards in the floor were not altogether level, and that the plaster was 93 ■in MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME smoky Then she went out to see how the house ooked from the road, and could not help wondering how it looked to other persons who passed by Did it strike them as a^^entlemln': pace? It was certainly very old-fashioned and fc fr?"^^ T " '*"'" y^' '°"^'y- What would ner friend Kate say to it ? urZ^^U '^^ 'T^^ '^^'f* '"""'"g thoughtfully hv?n u T^ ^'"''' ^ ^"gg^' 'i"^^" leisurely by an elderly man stopped in the roadway oppo- site the gate. The man had on his knees a bag containing something. He leaned out of th? vehicle and saluted her with what she thought was a superfluous amount of smiling good nature. Cjood morning, Mrs. Dennison," he said • " I am the lawyer that your husband may have men- tioned to you. Braddock is my name. Do you know anything about cats .? " n.ll?^^^'-f uTT'^-^'^'^y' ""'^^ ^^'^e wonder- ment, as if she had misunderstood him th!^^ held up the bag smilingly, and Lucy saw that something inside it was moving "They say," said Mr. Braddock, "that if vou carry a cat m a close bag for three miles and turn the bag around several times, the animal will not about it?""' ^"'- ""' y°" '"°^ -y^f^-g « wIl?V- A^'^'f'" '"P'J"^ L"^y> ^ l'«le tartly. What kind of a cat is it?" ^ "Just the ordinary kind. Black cat. I'm very much interested in the experiment." Is It a good ratter? " asked Lucy. 54 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD « fcf' ^^^ ordinary ratter," said Mr. Braddock:. Why not give it to me, poor thing? I am very fond of cats, and I may need it in this old house. "Yes, you will need a cat," said Mr. Braddock, with an irradiatmg smile of satisfaction. " These old country houses swarm with rats. I'll send you up a cat. How do you like tortoise shells .? — they are generally considered good ratters. Perhaps you would prefer a Maltese cross .? " The man was evidently insane. Lucy stepped toward the gate for security. " What has^ a Maltese cross to do with cats .? " she asked " I beg your pardon," he replied. « I should have said a cross of Maltese stock, I suppose you intend to improve the old house ? " "}^^y>y^^ — ^^^^ is my husband's intention." Mr. Braddock seemed to glow with exultant satisfaction at th- idea of improving the house. "Just so," he remarked; "modernize it, I be- lieve, IS the word." And he put his hand softly to his mouth, as if to restrain a too exuberant sense of humour. "I'll send you up a modern cat, Mrs. Dennison." Lucy's eye flashed a little at his benignant irony. « Don't rob yourself," she said. « My husband will probably get a mastifl=" to protect the place, from —rats, and other things -" "Just so. Mastifl^ for rats," and up went the back of his hand to his mouth to check his hilar- ity, as if mastifl=s for rats was one of those dear old witticisms that fill the heart with kindly mer- 95 I MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME rimcnt. « We are going to Jose one of our oldest inhabitants Mrs. Dennison-- Jacobus Sneiderl dllkZ^'"' "'" "P '^' '°*^ '^"^ '« o- ^^^ Lucy noticed that his eyes twinkled as he said t./i^diryofto.^° "^'^ °"' ^'^ -"• They « What is the matter with Mr. Sneider .? " dying. You see he's ninety odd years old and he has lived here all his life.' DeatJ; has no sur^ prises for such a man. In most cases the distinct before'rhf" h''"^ '"1^^'"? '^ obliterated long before the end approaches. 1 have a paper that needs your signature, Mrs. Dennison.^ Perhaps I d better stop and have you sign it " ^ Lucy wondered if this was a ruse to get into the house while her husband was away. Lt be- fore she was aware of it, Mr. Braddock put the hf^K^K-^T^ '^^ '^' ""^^^ fhe seat, got out she was compelled to accompany him to the house As he held the parchment down w th one hand on the table and pointed with a long finger of the other hand to a spot where Lucy was to write her name, he remarked with a win- ning complacency, « The women told me thrt I stead of rh P"' \^V'' ? ' ^°^-^d ^-^l^et in- stead of a bag. It doesn't strike you, my dear madame, that such a trivial difference wouM make any change in the experiment, does it ? ° 96 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD Lucy looked at him with that monitorial air hcl^^""^ ^^'^^ ^° ^^^''y '"'° * woman's "Did you say that your friend up the road was dying ? " she asked. « I may have mentioned it," he replied, with a new smile that seemed to indicate that dying had touched some pleasant chord of humour in him. rou have made up your mind to settle here among us, I believe.'* p "ii"*f ''^r' question rather superfluous, Mr. Braddock, after I have signed the paper ? " "Perhaps it is — perhaps it is," said Mr. Braddock, as he waved the bond in the sunlight to dry the name. « I shall assume that you in- tend to, and will send you up the cat." She watched him with staring curiosity as he went back to the buggy. In spite of his beaming affability he left behind him the impression that he was laughing in his sleeve at John's experi- ment and ^ucy could not help feeling a sudden hatred for .im « I believe," she said, « the man is half-witted. She saw him climb into his buggy and deliberately turn round the bag con- taining the cat, and then take his hat off and salute her before he started the horse. "Tilka," she said, "are there any rats in this oJd house : "Rats?" exclaimed Tilka. "I guess there are not so much rats as one, else I find him." ^ The girl had a large basket on one arm and a tin pail m her hand. « I think," she said, « you 97 i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME come to the g;arden with me and see what it will grow for you. Just as they started out to find the garden, a woman m a sun-bonnet, black dress, and white apron appeared at the stone fence and accosted them with a call. She had evidently come across b^t;t2Sll"''"^ ''' ^°^' ^"' ^^' ^-pp^^ "It's Mrs. Swarthout," said Tillca. "She make call on you, I think." "Aire you Mrs. Dennison?" called the woman. Lucy put her hand to her mouth, trumpet- fashion, and called back : " Yes, I am. Who are your "I am Mrs. Swarthout. I came over to see about the milk." Lucy looked at Tilka. " It is the pay for the two quarts of milk what I have got," said the girl. "Win you not come in, Mrs. Swarthout?" c i ^^^' " ^^ ^*^^ "° telephone." k 1, « ! ^''f "•" y°"'" ^"- Swarthout called back. 1 only came over to see about the milk, lou had two quarts." " Gracious," said Lucy. " Did we ? " There was a space of seventy-five feet interven- ing between the conversing women, and as Mrs. bwarthout did not intend to come any closer. Lucv must advance or continue to shout. She rather resented Mrs. Swarthout's irrational proceeding, and held her ground Tilka had no such scruple! bhe dropped her basket and pail and said : — 98 ON HER OWN THRESHOLD I fi"x\°m.^''* ""* '*" "'"^ ^°'' ^^^ '^° ^"*'"^'' "d -Jli' /*"*' what the woman is screaming about ? " ^^-^L^V' I' '.'^^ ^"'^ '» ^^^'^ pocket. ^ ,\ I fk "^*'''* ,^' .'.'^^ '^^"^ ''^« f<^n cents. « It Js goot business, I think." w.l'^^ff " P'^y""*' business," said Lucy, as she went off toward the garden. ' It thus happened that her introduction to two mportant personages in the little drama she was case YheTr'^'' ".".^°«""^fc, and as is often the case, she utterly m^.sinterpreted both the lawyer o?^hem """ ' "'^' '^'""^^^ ^'' ^"^ impresses I 99 CHAPTER V THE INCIPIENT GARDEN (( MOVING in," to use Lucy's phrase, was an episode of ruction and destruction. The men who had been hired to bring the chattels from the station in a capacious farm wagon, drawn by a team of stalwart horses, in- vested the affair with the responsibility and im- portance of a crisis. It took four men to do what two men would have done in the city. The team was stalled twice on the road, and the neighbours turned out with fence rails and crowbars and extricated it; small boys rose out of the earth cavorted round like young Indians, and followed the procession up to John's gate with wild hopes of a breakdown. So that when the cavalcade arrived m the road opposite the house, Lucy and Tilka came hurriedly out to learn what the noise was about, and saw a council of war being held and were told that the fence would have to be lOO ^ * THE INCIPIENT GARDEN taken down to drive in. Lucy stared at her household goods heaped up recklessly into a top- heavy pyramid, with Harold's baby-wagon cling- ing to the top, and mattresses, chairs, and many articles of private worth stuck on in ludicrous defiance of their associations, and exposed to the appraisement of the county. "Oh, dear," she said, " why did not John get a covered van ? " She stood there and watched with trepidation the tremendous operation of getting into the grounds. The noise and animation lifted the performance into what is called at the theatre a situation of suspense. All she could do was to hold her breath. The horses with their swaying load were to get up the little bank that separated the grounds from the road. It was a thrilling moment. The preparations went on with general vociferations and some oaths, the small boys look- ing on from the neighbouring trees. She set her teeth and clenched her hands. A great shout went up, a whip cracked, men put their backs to the wheels, the horses plunged and reared, the load swayed, the wagon creaked, two wheels were off the ground, and amid a din of yells, it came up the bank into the enclosure and drew up at her door. The customary way of telling such a story as this is to omit these details. But in the present case it cannot be done, because the narrator is dealing with the building of a home and not with the building of a story. Among ordinary persons like ourselves, there is a hallowed tradition that lOI tsssm MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME three moves are as bad as a fire. Lucy had arrived at the second stage of this experience, which may be said to be — if measured by its tears — equal to an inundation. When she saw ..?ri?"f l""'°"*^^^ there were shattered idols. Oh, John, John," she said, "you put that Japanese punch-bowl that my uncle gave me into the barrel with the smoothing irons and the jar of chow-chow How will I ever put the pieces together r » r " And we have lost the chow-chow, I suppose." said John '^'^ "No,' replied Lucy, with dire resignation; the chow-chow was all caught by mother's picture. i* few minutes later she called his attention to the astonishing fact that he had nailed her mo- rocco prayer-book, with a spike through the mid- « °^V^*-'° ■ ^°^^°"^ o** top of a packing-box. Moving in brought into very clear relief the changed conditions. Physical stress accompanied everything. Chattels that in the city seemed to ht themselves easily into their places, and co- • noiselessly up the lift and move smoothly throuch doors, now stuck fast in narrow places, broke down the flooring, and looked ungainly when thev were under low ceilings. ^ In the midst of this chaos, as they sat down to breathe, Lucy s mind seemed to wander from the condition of the furniture to the condition of her neighbours. « What kind of people, John, have we come among ? The lawyer came here for me 102 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN to sign the bond while you were gone, and he talked about lothing but cats. Do you think it is safe to hav • an insane man attend to your leeal business?" * " What, Braddock ? Why, he's the only man m the village who speaks to me. He came up to me as I got off the train and told me that if I had any more strawberries than I wanted, there was a neighbouring hotel that would take them off my hands. That doesn't sound insane." " And there's the woman next door," continued Lucy. • She came and screamed over the stone fence at me that I owed her ten cents for milk. Good gracious, I wonder what Kate would say to these people." "Oh, that reminds me," said John. " I've a letter for you from Kate. It came to the house just as I was leaving. It's in my coat pocket. You don't want to read it now, do you ? " " Yes, I do," said Lucy, jumping about to find his coat. She sat down on a m?ttress and read the letter aloud. It was dated at Lakewood, N. J., and ran as follows: "My dear Lucy I have just time to drop you a line before going out. You seem to be ouite in another world from mine now, dear, and I haven't heard a woru from you for weeks. What are you doing with your- self? We only stop here on our way to Cape May, for we found Narragansett Pier awfully tire- some after the first few day- I hear Cape May is awfully expensive, but I hope it isn't tiresome, for Wes really needs a change. I wish you would 103 14 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME run down there for a few days. We could have a very nice time together. You can tell John for me that I think he is real mean to keep you tied down so." When this letter was read, Lucy and John looked at each other a moment silently, and there was a slight shadow on John's face as he waited. Finally he said, " Well, my dear ? " " We can't go down till we get the house to rights, can we, John ? " " And then ? " asked John. " Oh, then is a year off," said Lucy, looking round helplessly. « I think we've our own Cape May to look after." ^ All John said was, " My dear, Wesley has my sympathy — he hasn't got you." John now gave the remainder of his vacation to the garden. In his study of it he found that Mart was a storehouse of practical knowledge without an idea beyond. The man had been employed as an under-gardener at some time, and had picked up a large fund of applicable wisdom in small matters, but as for originating or adapt- ing, he was as helpless as the white horse. The space ploughed and planted rather loosely for a garden was a little less than half an acre. It lay well down the slope, where there were no trees. It was growing the usual garden truck, and was badly overrun by weeds. Mart sug- gested that the only trouble with the soil was that it went dry in July and August, when every- thing burnt up. " If I was you," he said defer- 104 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN entially, "I'd make a celery bed down there ar the foot of the hill where it's moist '' tha^^L'ilfn^Sd?" ^^^^^^^'"^ S^°^-g ^- "A^'othat'V""'.' l??^f"'°«« ^nd superior. As to that, he said, «I don't think it would take a premium. It hasn't got any tomato plants egg plants, late cabbage?, or cadifloTer I tried to get the old man to fSrnish some da^ts but he wouldn't spend the money, and as £«; that strawberry bed, you'll have it^unnTng you out of house and home unless it's tended to You all the time. You wouldn't know it if I could put in six or seven hours a day on it " John went all over the garden carefully. (He had to pass through a strawberry bed which was nearly as large as the garden itself) It was S out roughly ,n beds containing radishes, Tettuce peas, parsley, onions, squash, spinach, beets* beans and cucumbers- the usual supp y of a country garden. Beyond were strips^7sweet corn and potatoes. ^ ^^' "It's a shame," said Mart, "to see earlv potatoes eaten up before they a;e ripe by bugs'^ and onu>ns that you can't tell from a patch If ragweed and strawberries havin' their own way as if there wasn't a man within call. TheJ Dardon ^^•^'"•^"fhes along the wall; askin' you" pardon, sir, ,t does look pretty bad to see 'em Clark Vtr •'^'^' ' picked 'three bushels l^ Clark raspberries two years ago off them same 105 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME bushes. Now look at 'em. You won't cet a bushel." ^ "A bushel," repeated John. " I should think that would be ample for my small family." " Yes, sir, but they was that prime stock they ought ^ to have been cut out and tended to. There's about a seventy-five-foot row of 'em. They might as well have gone the whole length of the wall. Eight or ten bushel is better than one, I guess." It seemed to John that the deeper he got into his garden, the more stupendous its needs were. He had regarded it as an appanage that took care of itself with a little incidental supervision. He left it with an oppressive sense that it was a voracious monster thut demanded no end of nioney and toil and sleepless care, and was very apt, if you took your eye off it, to relapse into a tropical and disgraceful jungle. It was very evi- dent that a garden, even of that size, needed a gardener and a complete outfit of tools, insecti- cides, irrigation plant, fertilizing factory, and relays of weed destroyers. After wrestling with the problem for some time, he struck that happy line of conduct which so often distinguishes ordi- nary men. He took Mart into the shed adjoin- ing the stable and let him into his confidence. The man evidently had some pride in his skill as a gardener, and had never had the full opportunity to exhibit it. John humoured him. " Now see here. Mart," he said, " I've thought this whole matter of the garden over, and I'll tell 1 06 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN you what I'll do. It's plain you know a good deal about the garden. I'll just turn the wMe matter over to you for a mon h or two, and we°« the'thin^^l^-dol't^S-'' ••"'li°''>-.'n had "Very well, you get in there and give it your whole attention, and I'll make it good to you if yon come out all right. All you lill haveTdo « to ake care of the horse, driie me to the depot! fvening '• '"^^ ''' '"^ '°"^^ ^^''' "^^ '" the ;* You'll have to get me some tools," said Mart Have you got a clear idea of what you want ? "' As John took out his pad, ]\^ art proceeded de- Inf fv^ 'u ^""'P^'-^te the necessary articles and this IS the way it looked on the pad, with what Mart calculated were the prices : — One Hand Cultivator . ^^ Two Hoes. ... *^-5° One Trowel .....,'' '*^^ Ten pounds of Paris Green '^^ One large Sprinkler . . • • • • z.oo One Grass Hook . ^^ One Mole Trap ^° One Water Barrel. Ca'rt. ;nd'Ho*se : .* ! .I.'o^ Twenty-five Tomato Plants . °° Twelve Egg Plants . . • • • .35 Fifty Cabbage Plants . 5^ Twelve Pepper Plants . . Twelve Cauliflower Plants *° One Garden Syringe ...'.*.*.*.* **' 107 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME One Grindstone .... ^ ^ Two eightecn-inch White 'Pinc PJank .' .* !oo Four fivc-mch Studding . Ten pounds Tenpenny Nails . . . . ' *,? Ten pounds Eightpenny Nails . ' ' ' 'H One bundle of Shingles ...**' , ,° Five pounds Shingle Nails . . . . ' *2o ^^ John looked the list over with amused wonder. Aren t you running a little out of the gardening business.?' he asked. "Nails and lumber and su lies"*'^ "ot usually included in garden " Wj!'> si'-; I'll tell you how it is. Most of them things I ought to have, but I can get along without all of 'em. I thought that if you'd \et me put up a workbench in this shed — you see 1 ve got a few carpenter tools of my own — whv when It come to makin' a cold frame or mendii' a rake, I could have the things in good order. There s always rainy days when I could put in n'X'i^ht^oL!'';'^^^^^ « ^^f ^° y°" ^^"^ ^'^1^ ^ water barrel ? " Well sir, the great trouble with a garden on un ?nH >' "''• ''' '''' r ^° g° ^^y ^"d burn up, and ,t s easier to wheel the kitchen slops down hill than to pull water up from the river, k?trh.n T' "°p'" ^'T- ^""^ ^ g^'-d^" than Kitchen slops. I've tried it." do" lu .?" ^°"'''^ ^°^ ^"^^ ''°"- W°"ld"'t one "I was thinkin' that my wife would lend me a 1 08 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN hand at the weedin' when she got through her housework, and I'd like to have% spare Z for HJffl ^'1^'"' '° ""V" '"'^ J^''"' " fhat your great difficulty ,s want of water. How would it do fo on that first terrace above your beds ? You couln store rt up there, and we could put a bit of a hose Mart's eyes brightened. "That would be a good idea, sir, but I didn't know you wanted to go to that expense." ^ " I don't think it will cost much more than your water cart; besides, I want to get the sIods away from the house." ^ ^^ But John very soon found out that Mart's list did not include all the wants. They had to have a pickaxe and spade to dig the trench. Then he had to put in a pump for the cistern ; then it was tie pipe and cement; then he had to get a plumber to do the fitting. Then he had tl buy a hose and fittings for the cesspool tank. But it was all done ,n a week, and the sense of satisfac- tion in having accomplished it all according to plan was ample reward. Nothing that he after- wards achieved on the place gave him so much satisfaction as this little initial feat of his own engineering and it won from Mart a succession we shall see" '""'"''' ^'^^^ht came on, as Mfrf^fl John's vacation was ended he saw Mart s workbench completed, and in the rack 109 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME above it were the few old fashioned tools that the man owned. In front of it stood the grindstone with a treadle affixed, of which Mart was espe- cially proud, seeing that his tools, which were in very bad condition, and hitherto could only be sharpened by begging the favour of some one who owned a stone and then begging some one else to turn the crank (for it is notorious that nobody ever saw a grindstone in a farmer's barn that wasnt turned by a crank) — two conditions that had left his axe, his drawknife, and his two chisels m great lack of what the critics call incisiveness. It was impossible to watch Mart's tender admiration for that grindstone without beine touched, and this led to John's buying many tools, with a vague sense that he was adding to Marts happiness in the enlargement of his sharpening facilities. But if John had known it, the workbench with Its tools affected him in a similar way. He found himself several times during the day in the shed puttering at something. To most men of an executive turn, the possession of a workbench and tools more than renews the zest of youth If there IS any constructive skill at all in a man, the bench invites it into action, and if he is at all nandy, it is the most remunerative piece of furni- ture he can have. The workshop speedily be- came a source of comfort and relief There was some kind of wholesome delight in handling obedient material. It was astonishing how much better the kitchen shelves looked when he put no THE INCIPIENT GARDEN them up himself, and with what pride he said to his wife, when she showed him a fractured piece of furniture, " Oh, send it down to the workshop; we'll soon put that to rights." John's nimble imagination jumped from that workshop, with its pleasant smell of shavings and row of steel imple- ments, to the ultimate possibility of rebuilding his house from end to end. It was not so with the garden. That luxurious patch •'s the most exacting and baffling element of his new life for two months. The deeper he became entangled in its meshes, the more impera- tive were its wants and the more insuperable its difficulties. He saw the tomato and cabbage plants set out, and believed the work was done. But he soon found out that it required the inces- sant care of Mart and himself to preserve them from the cut-worms, the moles, and the weeds. There was one onion bed thirty-five feet long that expanded his knowledge of practical garden- ing more than anything else. It required the attention of three able-bodied persons to keep it visible to the eye. Mart and Tilka and John worked at it with heroic persistence to get the weeds out, and it baffled them. By no system of calculation could he figure out that the crop at Its best would pay for the labour expended on it. He got up at four o'clock and found Mart and Tilka down on their knees already pulling out a fresh crop of weeds. As near as he could esti- mate with his pad each onion would cost in foot- pounds of labour about twenty-five cents, and he III II Ji MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME could buy onions at the store for twenty cents a peck H,s peppers, which had taken root finely and looked prosperous, he found one mornina were Ivrn^fltr";' M^ 5 ""^'^L^"^ '"^^ °^ '^^^ were lying flat and w.lted in the sun. In order to have any potatoes, he and Mart had to work assiduously with Paris green, until they were coj! ered with the dust, and the garden looked like a pattern of cheap wall paper. On another occasion the horse ^ot loose and tramped down his lettuce and peas with a placid anarchism, and John began wav ^ht:: '°"''^ o[ the utility of glrdensTy- way. There were other forms of energv the c^rutabfe. ^'''' '^ ^-"'^^ - -- -% rJ.T ^^u "^j^ "°^ ^PP^^"" to understand the Tohn' • . ^'s^o"''agement, and listened to John s cynical remarks about the garden with a •irrancf '''' '''' ""^ ^" '^^'^^'^ «"°-ble Every amateur gardener has to go through this phase of aoubt, just as does the fheologicll stu- dent. There is a time when final caSses and onions appear to be a delusion and a snare, and raising truck takes its place alongside the atSmot ^square the circle ^But if th! student in T student long enough, some liberating light falls across his disbelief and his other frucic bed especmlly when he has some orthodox old hand near by who has been through it all. I have come to the conclusion," said John to 112 } . THE INCIPIENT GARDEN Mart, who was still pulling weeds out of the onions, ;that a garden is a very nice playthine for a capitalist, but I shall turn my attention t5 grass and flowers." Mart stood up and wiped the sweat from his UwnsT'-'he'as^ed"""^^- " ^° ^^^ ^^ " Yes. A fine stretch of lawn, well-kept and green, is a special hobby of mine." „ ." "The" all I've got to say, sir," replied Mart, IS that youve come to the wrong place I never saw a real lawn in Rockland County * We have grass plots up here — but lawns.? — well sir. It II cost you about four times as much as a garden. This was not encouraging, but John was in- credulous « You don't have to weed a lawn like onions, he said. « It takes care of itself" Mart laughed. « I'd rather take care of an acre of onions than half an acre of lawns." he said. « In the first place, this soil is too dry for lawns. You II have to have water works first, and then it s got to be cut every other day and kept wet. So between the cutter and the hose, a man wouldn t have time for much else, and when you come to keep it well rolled and dig the moles out, it s about all a man wants to do." Now a lawn had always been one of John's dreams, and to have it dispelled in this manner was not at all consonant with his make-up « I'll show you," he said, « that you are 'wrong. Any crop that takes all a man's time to keep the "3 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME weeds out makes life a burden and onions an impertinence." "Lord bless you, sir," replied Mart, "the onions are all right. They were planted wrong — that's all. Next year, if I'm alive, I'll lay your earden out on a field plan, in proper rows so as 1 can run a horse cultivator through it, and there won't be any trouble about weeds; but I couldn't undertake to keep an acre of lawn wet on top of a hill in July, unless you gave me an English climate, or put a ram down in that stream, built a water tank in front of the house, and laid a thousand feet of pipe in. Even then, I guess this soil would suck up more water than you could supply. I estimate that ten square feet of grass will drink more water than forty camels." With a vague suspicion that Mart was simply prejudiced against lawns, John went to work to read up on the subject, and to examine the neigh- bouring grass plots, and the deeper he got into the subject, the more respect he had for Mart's sa- gacity. He took several long walks in search of lawns, and failed to discover the ideal thing. He plunged into the lawn maker's manual, and came plump upon the fundamental requirement of water and a retentive soil. Then he plunged from the water into the soil, so to speak, not having a fry- ing pan and fire handy, and got himself bewildered with sandy loams and cold substrata. He read hydraulics when his wife was asleep, and pumped his brain full of water rams, Ryder pumps, wind- mills, and pressure to the square inch. To relin- 114 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN quish his lawn was like giving up a creed. But when he studied his resources, it looked very much as if it must go the way of the garden. It was not till severaf weeks had passed that light broke in on these problems and Hope reset her bow of promise above his truck beds. His vacation drew to a close, and late one Sat- urday afternoon he came into the house wearing a moody countenance, as if he had not quite dis- entangled himself from the lawn problem. He was in his shirt-sleeves, and he threw his straw hat into a corner of the sitting room, and sat down with a sigh of relief in a!i easy chair, stretching his legs out in front of him. His wife was sitting at her cottage piano, idly running her fingers over the keys. A rosy light from the window fell across her white dress, giving it a creamy hue and touch- ing her cheek with a mellow ripeness. The room poked surprisingly cosey and comfortable. Her little secretary stood in a corner with her letters and bills tumbled about on it, and near by was a bouauet of wild azaleas and sweet alyssum. A few light shadows danced across his picture on the wall, and a suffused pearly light seemed to be part of the pianissimo that dripped from her fingers. He could hear the occasional shouts outside as his boy romped under the trees with Tilka. In the lapses of the music he took it all in, and then said, as if to himself, « Well, after all. It IS for this that we toil and spin." His wife swung herself round on the piano- stool leisurely. He noticed that she had dressed 1^5 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME her hair with unusual care and wore a tea rose on her breast. « Dear me," he said, " you must be expecting company." ^J* No, 'she said; "I was — but the company He thought that was very pretty. It sounded as If she had continued the pianissimo of the instrument with her mouth. " Thank vou, my dear, it's awfully good and refreshing of you. You've lost ail desire to go to Cape May, haven't you ? " "I should cut a pretty figure at Cape May," she rephed, "among those women who have handsome husbands who never take their dress coats off except to play golf What should I do with a husband in a blue shirt and his finger tied up in a rag .? " e « " ^ ^^' ^y^^^^ ^«»» a jack-plane," said John, apologetically. " 1 never heard you acknowledge Wesk " ^°"'' ^"^^^""^ "^^ "°' " handsome as " It never occurred to you, did it, that I mar- ried you because you were handsome?" " ^f "^^.f occurred to me how you came to do " « , L'. . ' ""l ^"" ^y'"g '° '^^"o^ all these years." 1 did It because you were not handsome, you great goose. Where would I have been if you were as good-looking as Wes ? You must see that 1 would have been dragged down to the level ot Lape May sooner or later." I *1 J f; *"^ ^ wonder where I would have landed. ii6 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN "Cape May, too. A man always drass a woman down to his own level." To have one's wife play the coquette suddenly and damiily m a white dress with a tea rose on her bosom, is one of those little luxuries that ordinary men appreciate. "Let us go out under the trees," he said. To-morrow will be Sunday, and the last day of my vacation." ' He put his arm about her gallantly, and they went out together. Tilka, who watched them at some distance, said to herself, « They think so much of each other, as if they were not married so long as three years," and then she slipped into the kitchen. ^ When they sat down under the trees, John « ^f^ * ''"'^ worried about that garden. "Yes," said Lucy, promptly, "it has been worrying me, too — almost to death." "Then you can sympathize with me," said u i"V •" ^^^ ^°'"6 ^° propose to you that we abolish It altogether — it's too great a strain." " Abolish the garden .? " cried Lucy, with aston- ishment. "Yes. It's not a mathematical proposition, and I can't work it out." " But it's an awful convenience." " Then I don't see why it should worry you" said John. ' "It worries me because I do not know what to do with the stuff. I wish you would go into that kitchen — it looks like a greengrocer's. I'm 117 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME getting to feel that it would be a luxury to go out and buy something. I wish mother htd some of those heads of lettuce that are going to waste She ,s so fond of lettuce, and so particu- lar about It You know, John, you always said she made the best salads you ever ate. What do you suppose Tillca said to me this morning — and the poor girl does her very best to eat all the stuff that s brought in — she said, *I think when you have a garden, you should a pig get. If you do not much care for ^he smell, I could keep him m the cellar. It is that wicked to throw away such good greens.' " Then John and Lucy fell to laughing "I suppose," said he, " that she would feed the pig on strawberries if she had him in the cellar. T wonder what kind of a flavour pork would have It It were fed on strawberries. It sounds rather dainty. " But, John, the strawberries must be fed to something— they are spoiling on our hands. Mart has been taking away ten quarts every morning, thanks to your cat-lawyer, and says he could take more if he had some one to help him pick." I es, I know," remarked John ; " but they'll ail give out in another week, and that will be the end of the garden. I'll turn it into a lawn next year. "If you do I'll go to Cape May. You had better let me undertake the mathematics of the garden It s quite beyond a man's comprehen- sion of details." ^ ii8 THE INCIPIENT GARDEN "Oh, I have been studying the books on gar- uP'Tl"^^^'^ ^^'^ ^" * ^"^sf'on of water." And I ve been studying the garden itsel'", Just as soon as the strawberries give out, there will be cherries, currants, and raspberries, and when they give out, there will be blackberries, and Mart says har the Sanitarium will take all that we can pare. If you're going to give the rest of your l-fe to iiw .s, I will look after the garden, and 1 will prom.se you that it will not be abolished. Gracious, what would country life be without a garden ? It's the old story of home John — ''"'°'^^'~^"'^ speaking of mother, "Yes but Mart says the whole thing will burn up in July. I've studied this thing, my dear. *"«^u '■?°'''^' itself into a question of water.'' 1 hat depends on whether Mart does the talking He s about the dryest gardener I ever met. Let me tell you something. The man who owns the Sanitarium is running up a little bill for our berries, and I suppose he would rather niake a trade than pay cash, like all these people, for he spoke to Mart the other morning and wanted to know if we needed a phaeton. He said he had one in his barn, a little old-fashioned, but perfectly sound, that he bought for his wife and she died. It's too heavy for his pony. He told Mart that we could have it at our own price and said he would send it up and let us try it* You know, John, you'll be away a great deal! and I don t want to be shut up in the house all 119 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME thejime. Besides -if mother should come " Then we'll want a new harness, my dear." calt? 1 ' • V ' ^°^/""ch does a new harness p'k'the be":t""" ^'^ "°"^^ '^^'P'"g M-^ . " You will not have to," said John, quite ma^ isterially. " What's that ? " ^ ^ it sold ni J' ^' *'^'^ '""^ ^"PP^^ ^^"- ^-sn't "Supper bell ? Why, where did you get that? " Mother gave it to me long ago, but I never had a chance to use it till now." ^ ' "' ' "^^^'^ "1 think you were going to say something about mother, were you not?" remarked John, cLaHy Lucy looked very demure as she got up. S « Nn"VH°'' V 'l^'"!^ '? '°°^ ^"'""'•^ '^•'"self, said. No, I don t thmk it's necessary. It's all right." 1 nen they went in to supper. no CHAPTER VI THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS J^a^-.I^eV"' ''"" !."■''='' '" '"■^ "lotion of "■ site by an architectural book that had commended the brow of a hill with great enthusiasm, because it was dry and healthJ and always had a current of fresh ain Now hat ne^frflhe'^T' °" ''^ ''™" "^ ^ hill th^d y! ness ot the site began to worry him. There was plenty of rater at the foot of the hill biri learned Ih ''"'dov,r^. He had already and that 4, /"""' ''u ^' '™"= ""■'""t wate^, ciallv nn r,*"'''^"^ '" 'he neighbourhood, espe- cially on a slope, were apt to burn un I, „!. becoming very plain to him that his landscape g^ tl2J!V r^^ ^'SS" P^blem than Tefad ered"^^^ ' ^f ■"'■:""'' P™^P«f^ of an embow- ered and verdant villa were beginning to assume ZuVhim; '-' ''" ^"'- -P'- "^'^e -n^y 121 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME One Sunday morning Mr. Swarthout came in upon him contemplating his scraggly grass-plot rather ruefully. " You don't keep it cut close enough," said Mr. Swarthout. " Don't I ? " responded John. « Look over there along the fence. I've blistered my hands shaving it down to the roots, but it is just as yel- low and scrawny as ever. What the place wants, Mr. Swarthout, is water." " Gits as much water as any o' the places, don't it?" ^ " Yes, that's the trouble — it wants more than the other places to suit me." " Seems to me it looks all right for the season. Hes all the water natur' allows it, don't it? " Just then Mr. Braddock drove up and entered the grounds, '-arrying a large cat in his arms and smiling benignantly as he stroked it. " We call her Medusa," said Mr. Braddock, lifting the long hair of the cat's head between his thumb and finger. "You know the myth. There is a singular relation between the length of a cat's hair and its animal food. You will have to feed her on meat occasionally." Mr. Swarthout walked a step or two away with indifferent contempt. Then he turned and said, " You don't see anything the matter with this 'ere grass, do you, Mr. Braddock ? " Mr. Braddock stroked the cat and smiled as he replied : — " Going to make lawns, eh ? I see. We all 122 THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS go through it That's why I brought you a cat It s always wel to begin lawns with a cat.^ Moles you know-they plough them up faster than you can roll them down^ Nothing^liketcat for ° M -k'' ^''' '^^' ^^''' Mole^diet." ^- ,^'";,^^nnison has got a notion that God AI- t urreguS'^.-' '^^^^'°"' " ^"^ '^'^ ^^•--' with'^he'h.T'f^K'^^!;- fi-l^dd^^^k, suppressing with the back of his hand an inclination to guffaw wttr:v't'''\''r '^ ^" -^«ia'nt:u: prove mL^ /°"^^ '*?"'' '°°' ^'^^^ ''^ •'"■ prove. Mine cost me — let me see — 2roa foot. You ve heard of speculators in the ^dtv watering their stock " - and'he chuckled as he sag It-- well, sir, when we speculate in the country dTffer?nce.''' "'^"^"^ '""^ '°''- ^^^^ -"^ askldMn!"'"^ ^''' '' ^°"' ^'■''^'"" ^^" ? " catl^and^rT^^^^^^^^ ' "^°-^^' ^^-^^^ his mill^"L''""'^'''^ °' thereabout, and the wind- s', I thTnl.'"-^'^' ^°^^ '"^ --"^y-fi- well "^saTd ''I'oh '''^ '"^ twenty-five dollars for a wen, said John, contemplatively. "But vou rAf,^'"'>; of water, at all events ? " ^ no^ W ' • ". '''^. ^'•- B'-addock. " Certainly not. Water doesn't follow by any means - never does, I assure you, unless yoi go'a thousandTet' 123 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME But the windmill is quite an ornament when there is a gale. After artesians we always try water- rams. They are less expensive. Think of trying artesians ? " " It's dead agin' Providence," said Mr. Swart- hout. ** I've been here sixty year, and I never had nothin' but a good curb well with a windlass, and there's never been any trouble on my place about water, 'cepting there's a long drought, and then I guess we ain't no worse off than other people." Mr. Braddock pressed his hand over his mouth a moment. " I'll just take Medusa in to Mrs. Dennison," he said, "and tell her about the moles." Then he remembered something. " There's an auction up at Sneider's next week. You might pick up a second-hand ram there, if you don't go in for artesians." And he went off to the house with what to John was very much like a suppressed chuckle. This conversation left John Dennison sorely perplexed about the water problem. Mart in- sisted that it was a waste of time to think about having an English lawn. It would ruin any man who was not a millionnaire, for the soil wasn't " kalkilated " for it. Finally John rut ten pounds of earth from his hill-top into a box and sent it by express to an agricultural chemist whom he had known in school days, and with it a request that he would tell him what the soil needed to make it retain its mois- ture so that grass would grow luxuriously upon 124 THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS iows7- '"^"' *'*' "^'"'''^'^ '" '^p'y ^^' *^ ^°'- "My dear old Friend: I was delighted to hear from you once more, and surpilsed to learn that you have gone to Rockland County to live 1 turned your box of soil into my back earden without examining it, for that was not necessary when I knew where you were and read your description of the site. I have lived in that vicimty myself. The trouble with lawns up there is this: on most of the uplands and slopes there is a thin alluvium, or detritus, on a crust of triable and porous red sandstone that takes water like a sponge. The soil is comminuted red-rock with vegetable mould, and there is little or no hy- drous aluminum silicate (common clay) in it If you w, I take a small piece of ground and tr'eat it wjth blue clay (you can get plenty of it at the Haverstraw brickyards), you will find that it will stop the pores of the rock and your subsoil will retam the moisture, so that instead of erecting a tank you can convert the soil itself into a tank Let me know the result of the experiment. Etc.,' , Lucy met John at the depot a day or two later, in her phaeton. He saw her from the car window before the tram stopped. She had driven k^r- InH J^k" "r"! '''^^"' equipages, and both she and the white horse looked as independent as any of them He thought she might have kept a little in the rear with her humble turnout, but she 125 itim MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME was the first one in the line, and the old white horse really seemed to be trying to hold his head high and paw the earth with a sudden sense of eciat. « ^s John climbed into the phaeton, Lucy said, rou look as serious as if you were going to a funeral ; what is on your mind now ? " " Hydrous aluminum silicate," said John, with grave deliberation. « It's a terrible responsibility. Let me get this bundle under the seat — it's lawn seed. "There was a box came for you to-day from Haverstraw. I asked Mart what it was, and he said yedging from the heft of it, it must be gold. " Ha, ha ! " said John, « it's hydrous aluminum silicate. « Mercy," ejaculated Lucy. " Is it explosive ? " "No, sa,d John, «' it's blue clay. I am going to make a little experiment. It wouldn't interest you. " Oh, it's a secret ! " " Yes, one of those secrets that tremble on a man s lips unuttered, till he gets the hang of it himself. I see Sneider's auction is posted in the depot. I want you to drive up the-e, my dear, and see if you can pick me up a stone-boat." '' h stont boat ? " " No, not a stone boat, but a j/o»^-boat." " I never heard of such a thing. Are you going to put your hydrous what-do ou-call-it 126 THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS " Well, there's a close connection — it's part of the secret." " What do you suppose the Sneiders are sell- ing out for? Are they bankrupt? Heavens, perhaps they've been trying to make lawns." Then John laughed. " It seems to be the custom up here," he said, « whenever the old folks die, for the young ones to sell out. As the Sneiders are old Revolutionary stock, and their uome is a hundred and fifty years old, there must be a lot of venerable truck there. You had better take some money with you." For days after this Lucy watched John out of the corner of her eye without disturbing him with any questions. She saw him digging holes in all directions on the grounds, piling up red dirt and pulling out chunks of red stone. She noticed that he had laid out a little space ten feet square, that looked like a new cemetery lot, and watched it morning and evening with' mysterious care. He had dug out the soil, refilled the space with clay and loam and stable manure, seeded it down carefully, and not having a roller, had smoothed It with a board upon which she saw him, from her window, dancing what she supposed to be an idiotic jig that called for some reproof. "John," she said, "why don't you exercise in the barn and get a sand-bag ? It would be much more becoming than trying to dance in the front yard where everybody can see you, for you never were a good dancer." John laughed heartily. " Dance ! " he said ; 127 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME "I am going to make that whole front space dance with God s own green gladness. You wait. I II make our place look, among these country deserts, like an emerald set among a lot of vel- W rhmestones. Don't you forget the stone- A day or two later, Lucy took Mart with her and drove up the road to the Sneider auction. It was her first experience with a country vendue, and was ful of homely interest. All the nea^ neighbours had gathered with their vehicles, and most of them were wandering about the grounds and house with a dull curiosity. No sooner had Mart tied the horse and Lucy had entered the grounds, than she was accosted by a young woman whose vouth and dress were in startling contrast Ibo h ^"^ careless rusticity of the people " I beg your pardon, Mrs. Dennison," she n :^ , '^"" '^ g'*^ y°" came. I am May Braddock. Pa .as told me all about you. Pa IS peculiar, you know. How is Medusa? I ought to have called on you before. Pa doesn't give cats to everybody. I suppose you've noticed that he is peculiar ? " Lucy nodded as if she conceded that fact with- out the use of words. " Yes, Pa told me that your husband was goine to make lawns — isn't it sad ? " "I don't see anything sad about it," said Lucy. It s part of the improvements." "And so it is true that you are really going to THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS improve. I was in hopes that it was idle ffossio I w,sh you would let me come and talk yfuoui of It. You see there are so few city folk come ud ttn^ '^'.Z^^ '' ''^''' '^^'" " ''"P^^"-' Lucy laughed « If my husband goes too far perhaps 1 11 avail myself of your eloquence As he has only reached the lawn stage, perhaps I can manage him alone." * Hcrnaps i can " And do you care for old things > " ^ uo you mean in husbands?" . No," said Miss Braddock, with unperturbed seriousness ; « I mean in auctions." ^^""'''^^ m. Vf'^^ never been to an auction before in Jhfngs? " '"^"^ *-"'y- " '^ '' ^°"«"^d to old "Entirely," said Miss Braddock, lowering her voice. "Just look about you. I am tKlv young thing you will ever see at tU^ I I- ^ here TK,^ /""/*"' ever see at the auctions up here That is why 1 am so glad you came." ^ thing "rZT '^^y ^" ^'^P^" '° P'^'^ "P «ome- "ph, dear, no. The same things at all fhe auctions^^ They pass 'round the cou^i try in that way. New things wouldn't stand it. I've go an Itinerary of the Felter candlesticks ever since the first auction in the De Ronde homestead They ve got around here at last, and I'm going to try and get them. You didn't come fo7 thf candlesticks, did you ? " « A^hnJ"?^''"^ ^"i^u " ^'"^ ^^t" ^ boat." A boat, repeated her companion. "I didn't 129 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME notice any boat on the list. What kind of a boat ? Is it china ? " " No," said Lucy. « It's stone." "Then come right in and we'll look at the crockery before Pa begins selling. I suppose it's a butter-boat." May Braddock, straight, lithe, and trim, had a mature vivacity in singular contrast with the stolid complacency of the country folk about her. She had graduated at a Normal School, and there was something in her gray eyes and the gold specta- cles that covered them that suggested a gentle siperiority of acquirement. " There's Pa now," she said, as they entered the house. " He's talking to Pop Swarthout. I'll ask him where the candlesticks are." "Good morning, Mrs. Dennison," said the lawyer, who was the centre of a group of rustics. " How are the birds ? " Lucy, who from the first had been inclined to look upon Mr. Braddock as slightly demented and dangerously irrelevant, stared at his daughter for an explanation. " I refer to the cat. Medusa," the lawyer said. " You know I told you she would exterminate the moles, but 1 fear I neglected to tell you that she will exterminate the birds as well." And then he put the back of his hand to his mouth, as if sup- pressing a practical joke. "Pa," said Miss Braddock, with the slightest iciness of tone, " where have you put the brass candlesticks f " 130 THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS " Doubtless they arc in the parlour lot." And looking at Mr^. Dennison, he added, "My daughter is an antiquarian, you know." " Antiquary, Pa," said Miss Braddock, turnins away. ^ " Quite right, quite right, my dear," said her father. " We are ail antiquaries on these occa- sions, Mrs. Dennison. Did you find the cat take kindly to her new home ? " "Oh, the cat is all right, Mr. Braddock," said Lucy. " Where have you got the boat .? " This piece of irrelevancy on the part of Lucy appeared to be so much in his own line that he leaned toward her with an extra air of benianitv and said « Exactly — the boat — is there a boat on the schedule ? " "Yes, in the stone-ware. Pa," said Miss Brad- dock, correctively. " Precisely," replied the lawyer. " It is undoubt- edly moored in the china closet in the kitchen." "And the windlass bed, Pa; is that to be put up to-day — the bed that George Washington slept on?" Mr. Braddock looked at the sched- ule. "One bundle bedposts, mahogany, with slats and bed wrench. Garret." "That's it," broke in Pop Swarthout. "I helped tie it up when Molly Concklin sold out in 58 and Job Felter bought it in. It hain't been sot up since, but I guess some of the slats was burnt when the Felters sold out in '64. 1 allers said George must hev had chilblains on his back jf he slept on them sticks." 131 1 i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME •J ^ **^^*^ "° atmosphere about these people," said May Braddock, as she pulled Lucy away. 1 hat historic bedstead will be stowed away in some other garret for a generation, unless I can rescue it to-day." Just then Mart came in and informed Lucy that he had found the boat. It was in the stable --would she like to take a look at it? — and as Mr. Braddock's auctioneer-voice was beginning to souna, she left Miss Braddock and went with Mart to the carriage-house. As she followed him with her skirts lifted, she saw a number of men standing around in various attitudes and groups of indifferent patience, much as if they were at a fu- neral. They were waiting for the sale to reach the live-stock and farm implements, to which alone the masculine interest attached. Mart made his way through barrels and bran and lumber and rubbish to a pile of debris in the carnage-house, moving old shafts and broken wheelbarrows and stovepipe, occasionally remark- ing as he did so : « Look out for the wagon grease mum," or « Mind the barbed wire, mum/' and pointed to an old and worn board with a ring-bolt in It and well smeared with yellow, dried mud. It stood on end against the siding. « There you are mum, and a good one it is, too." ' "What?" asked Lucy. " The stun-boat." « That old board ? Why, it's all frayed out on the edges and in a filthy condition. I'm not going to spend John's money on such rubbish." 1J2 THE DAY OF SMALL THINGS Standing close beside it was an enormous and rickety old pine bureau with five awry drawers. It was stained or painted with yellow ochre, had shrunk at the seams, and had lost most of its knobs. It seemed to fascinate Mart. He pulled the drawers out with delight and herculean effort, so that he had to kick them back with his boot. It had evidently been sent to the barn for kindling- wood. As Lucy expressed a strong desire to get out of the dreadful place, Mart opened the way for her again, looking back longingly at the old bureau and remarking as they went along : " Take care of the hole in the floor, mum," and " Look out for the tar, mum." When she reached the house again the auction sale had brought everybody into the kitchen, and she heard Mr. Braddock's voice saying : " Now, then, what am I bid for the dinner service — soup plates, cups, cups and saucers, etc., and three old blue platters — what am I ofl^ered for the lot?" " Thirty cents," said Mrs. Swarthout, promptly. "Fifty," said Miss Braddock, looking at Mrs. Swarthout as if that lady ought to go to the foot of the class. " I am oflfered fifty cents," smiled the auction- eer. " As you are practical people and these things were made for service, I trust that you will save them from going to the Braddock mu-se-«»i." " Mu-j«5 ;) I look into your face, my love. Blue eyes have told me so. «5« MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME No sooner was this ditty rounded up, with Lucy doing all the applauding and Sprague all the blushing, than John took his friend by the arm, and they went back under the trees, where the serious thread of their former conversation was picked up. " You see, as I was telling you," John began, " I've got a clear picture in my mind of what I want to do, but it is next to impossible to make anybody see it till it is framed and hung up." " Always the way with pictures," said Sprague. "Always a bad idea to have everybody in the studio with you, where it's dirty work, and they misunderstand your model." "What I object to," said John, "is that they will not take my word for it — that it is a pic- ture. Even my wife — the best woman that ever lived, Sprague — thinks it's a dirt-heap, and when I get enthusiastic about it, she says, * Yes, John, but it was all so comfortable before you disturbed it,' and that's crushing. As for the old residents about here, they do not believe in anything that they have not seen. The mason told me that a cistern built in the shape of a parallelogram was some kind of a heresy. He had always seen them built round, and he didn't like to depart from the faith of his fathers. There's that stone wall over there. It's a fine cjuarry. Some of the boulders at the bottom of it weigh a ton. They only needed splitting up to make the best building material in the world. When I proposed to split them the mason said 152 I ENTERTAINS ANGELS UNAWARES it wouldn't pay --they would have to be drilled and blasted, and if I bought the drills/slXst tamps, and powder and fuse a man couldn't ge awaj^wuh much more than one of them in a df y and ,t would cost more than it was worth, l/i eni n?l ' ""'" ^'^? ^^P^"^^^ °" the experi- ence of the veterans, I would have given up the job, for I calculated that, with this dd process of dnlhng and blasting, the stone would^ cos me about eighteen cents a cubic foot to get i out But you are not mterested in these details." ^^ , Oh, It s just lovely," said Sprague. « Go " Well, do you know what I did? I found a man who had been taking out trees over in the cTtKeesd ^^^^-V''"^^'^'"^- ""d^d no that wo, M.r"r '''''' "" "^" ^"^ ^^^^e a stump that would take four men and a yoke of oxen two days to get out. He simply^poked a hole down among the roots with a crowbar, shoved a and lifted the tree, roots and all, into the air." ; Lovely "said Sprague. "Goon." rh. K 5 u '■^'"^"^bered that one spring, when there had been a washout on the West Shore th:';r:c'k ^"'d^ n^ 'r''^' '^' -me" owi on nVhU \ ^ ^" ^^^ ^'^P^'^t workmen of the take to get it off— the engineers came ud on a b"w ittolnT' '"' r^4s^ °" top^f Cand man Mart and I uncovered some of the big stones, ^53 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME and several of them were as big as hogsheads. Swarthout came over and looked at them. ' Cost you about five dollars and fifty cents to bury one of 'em,' said he. * Don't intend to bury 'em,' said I. * Cost you almost as much to drill 'em,' said he. • Don't intend to drill 'em,' said I. He looked like a yawning gulf of compassionate superciliousness. *Mebbe, says he, *you be agoin' to saw 'em up into slabs fer mantelpieces.' My dynamite man drove up one day when the women and the boy were off driving. He laid a cartridge on each one of the stones, and they fell into sharp-faced build- ing chunks, just as nicely as if he had cut a pumpkin-pie with a knife." " Lovely," said Sprague. " Go on." "When Swarthout came over and saw the boulders all divided up beautifully, the expression of his face paid me for the cartridges. Regular Quincy granite, some of those stones. Shouldn't wonder if they had rolled down from Massachu- setts a million years ago — but this tires you." " No, no," said Sprague. " It's a fairy tale. Go on." " Well, sir, I said to myself, * I can rebuild the whole of that house with such a fine quarry at my elbow.' But I haven't said it to anybody else for fear they might put me in the insane asylum." " Have you a definite plan of the proposed house ? " " In my mind, yes. You see, I can put a stone bay on this end, the whole width, to please my wife — I ought to tell you she comes from the 154 ENTERTAINS ANGELS UNAWARES Bay State. Then I can run that north room out into a dining-room, and fetch the roof down in a long sweep over the porch, and put a stone tower on the north end. Do you catch the idea ? " !! Si^Mp '^y- ^*" "^^^^ * picture of it for you." "Will you ? That's just what I want. If you could put in the grounds as they will be when that cistern is working " I* Good enough. How will they be ? " ." ^^^^}* * g°°^ solid piece of rustic stonework laid up m front for the fence — one of those walls about four feet high with the sharp, natural stone sticking out of them at regular intervals, with two carnage entrances flanked in time by two stone gate-pc5:ts that I shall take my time to build. Then a footpath entrance in the centre, all of them laid down in hard gravel and running through a perfectly level and bright green lawn, with shrubs and heavily massed flowers border- ing the roads and the path. You know the kind of flowers — petunias, sweet peas, poppies, mari- golds, with flammg bunches of canna and salvia. But what I specially count on are the shadows of those old trees on the lawns." " Lovely," said Sprague. " The road will circle around the house and be gravelled, probably blue-stone, if it doesn't cost too much, and the omi>ra or porch of the house will come down mto a suggestion of tl parte coch}rer « Lovely," said Sprague. « What's it going to "Just what I can aflTord to pay by the week cost MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME and that's the point of it. Nobody ever heard of a man doine it by the week. If I die in the attempt, I shall at least be entitled to the en- comium that he tried to be original and luxurious on twenty-four hundred a year. I suppose I'm destroying what little faith you had in me. It usually acts that way with most persons." " Not at all," said Sprague, " it's auite delicious. You'll do it. Any man who can die a hole like that in spite of the opinions of mankind, can do anything that's reasonable." "You can understand," continued John, "that there wouldn't be any fun in it if I were able to do it." " No ? " queried Sprague. " I mean that if I were able to command it all done by fiat, it wouldn't be inspiriting. There is a kind of zest in walking on the edge of a beauti- ful precipice, that would be lost if one had wings. A man must overcome opposition, face incredulity, turn the other cheek also, make brains take the place of capital, and have patience enough to wait ten years ; then, if he isn't broken down by con- tumely and drudgery, perhaps his children will get the reward." " How lovely," said Sprague. As John had meant this to be slightly querulous, he looked at Sprague and said, " What's lovely?" " To be sure of your reward at the end of ten years," replied Sprague. " But I'm not sure of it — that's the deuce of it." 156 ENTERTAINS ANGELS UNAWARES "Oh, yes, you are; you are arriving all the time and bringing the reward with you." "Do you think so?" "Sure. I wish I had as big a hole in the ground as that to be proud of. I've seen you looking at it with admiration every half hour." John laughed. " 1 suppose you are right," he said. " There is some kind of delight in shaping dull material to your will, but it is so slow and stubborn." "Nobody knows that so well as an artist," replied Sprague. « If he could transfer his pic- tures from his mind to his canvas without wres- tling with the earths, he would never paint — only dream. Tell me all about the hole.*'^ " It's only a cistern. It looks like an inspira- tion or a bugaboo because it is so big — that's all. But when it is done and covered up, I shall feel like a man who has hidden his treasure in the g1f""d. I^ I can live down the contumely mean- while, I shall be paid. Do you know, what they !?J^jr the village —I am looking for Captain Kidds gold up here." " Lovely," said Sprague, « and you'll find it. A man has to dig, I suppose, for everything except " * " Yes, except fame." " No, I didn't mean that. I was going to say that he can get almost everything out of the earth except " " les, except what ? " " Well, except too-ral-oo-ral-a." «57 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Then the two men looked at each other, and as Lucy and May Braddock came up, they found them shaking hands. After this conversation, John had much more re- spect for Sprague, and it annoyed him to see that Lucy did not share his feeline. *' I can at least tolerate Holcomb as a harmless divertisement," Lucy said, " but what you can see in Sprague to admire is beyond me." " My dear, he is the only person I have met who sympathizes with me in my struggles." " Weil," said Lucy, " he ects red in the face while he is doine it — it must be that he is ashamed of it. Besides, ne kicked the cat when he thought I did not see him." " What," exclaimed John, trying to suppress his exultation, "kicked Medusa?' " Yes. I did not intend to tell you, as he is your guest. But now it is out. I hope it will open your eyes." " It does," said John. Sprague came into the workshop one morn- ing. It was Sunday, ar.. the guests were going away on the morrow. John was desecrating the day with a rip-saw. " Sprague," he said, laying down the saw, "there are some little things that serve as links between human souls. They are trifles, but they draw men closer together." " Are you referring to the cistern ? " " No," said John ; " I am referring to the cat. You kicked her." 158 ENTERTAINS ANGELS UNAWARES Sprague blushed. "It was one of those little acts," continued John, " that make the world of masculinity kin. I have tried to kick her for a month myself, but she kept herself under the eye of the women, and I miserably failed. You detest the cat," and John held out his hand. " I saw her eat six young bobolinks down in your meadow," said Spreeue, "and not content with that, she finished ofr with the mother bird. But perhaps I should not have resented her act if she had not given me such a look of concentrated and sublime contempt." "Yes," said John. " I know the look well. It is the most remarkable case of anirnal slang on record. She was brought here to kill moles. She has killed nothing but birds, and the moles run over her while she sleeps. But the women, God bless them, condone and spoil her on account of her fur. I tried my best to make friends with her when she came, but she treated me with queenly disdain from the start. I stroked her and called her Pretty Puss, at which she rolled up her yellow eyes at me and walked away contemptuously, say- ing as plain as a newsboy in Frankfort Street could say it, ' Oh, you go shoot yourself! ' and opposed as I am to such vulgar language in my own house- hold, I am compelled to put up with it in order to keep peace in the family. Mart tells me that since she came here she has eaten twenty-one young robins, six song sparrows, twelve bobolinks, eight meadow larks, four wrens, and three thrushes, and 159 II t i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME my respected mother-in-law says that the cat is an invalid, and that I ought to get some kind of Prepared food for her because she will not eat er cream. How am I going to save the birds, Sprague, without breaking up my family ? " The two men looked at each other in silent sympathy a moment. Then Sprague whispered : " You ought to try a bull terrier. I'll send you up a pup. Neither of the men knew what he was about, or he would have paused. They shook hands once more, and buried in their bosoms the secret that was eventually to imperil the household. The guests had gone away, and Lucy had noticed that May Braddock came to the station to bid Sprague good-by, and that they had some con- fidential adieus in a corner of the waiting-room, which led her to remark to John, « I shouldn't wonder if it were a match — there's no accounting for tastes." Then passed several weeks, during which time John concentrated all his energies on his cistern. He «tuck to it grimly. The stone walls rose slowly and the brick arch finally spanned the gulf. The plumbers came and worked wonderingly at a system of pipes that seemed superfluous. 1 here were overflow and drainage pipes, supply pipes, pipe for kitchen pump, and pipe that was intended for an unbuilt tower — all snugly hidden down there and costing a great deal more than John had dared to contemplate. But it was finished at last, and when the soil was raked over it, and 1 60 i •* ENTERTAINS ANGELS UNAWARES he stood on the square slab that marked the man- hole, and thought of the engineering provision that he had made under his feet, he could not help wondering secretly if he would ever get the two hundred dollars back that it had cost him. With what boyish interest he and Mart watched for the first shower. How eagerly they rushed out and turned off the jointed leader, so that the first dash of ram that washed the roof clean would not go mto the reservoir; and then, as they made the connection again, and listened to the gush of water in the echoing vault, what satisfaction and pride beamed in their faces as they stood there in the downpour and watched the trembling and gushing leaders. The more fliriously the rain fell, the more they exulted. "To think," said John, "that the clouds have been dropping fat- ness for years, and nobody thought it worth while to pick it up." With what gusto they drew the hrst beakerful from the kitchen pump, and how they smacked their lips over it, and insisted that it did not taste of cement, and how utterly use- • f K>r^^^ ^° ^""y ^"'^ ^^^^ ^^^ women like It! Mother said it had a flavour of shingles Lucy detected a smoky taste. Her enthusiasm went no further than to acknowledge th^t it would be a great convenience on wash-days. So John had to work ofl^ his enthusiasm in a letter to Sprague, and was much comforted by a prompt reply that it was "lovely," to which a postscript was added to the following efl="ect : « I send you per Wells-Fargo,a thoroughbred bull-terrier pup' i6i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME I I out of Belcher's * Viraffo,' by Pettibones's * Pitts- burgh Crib.' You will have to rig a bottle and rubber teat for him." Then there was a season of relapse, when John and Lucy spent their evenings under the cedars quietly, listening eo mother as she made a sched- ule of what she had preserved that day. Wesley, John said, was talcing his vacation ; he had not seen him for a week. " I think," he remarked, " that he is going to leave our firm ; going into some new speculation. Your husband is sa/e from that sort of thing now, my dear." But scarcely had they felicited themselves on their happy immunity, when, presto, Wesley and his wife drovt up to their gate. f A 162 CHAPTER VIII IN WHICH THE TEMPTER ENTERS LUCY greeted her old friend, Kate Ellis, with genuine heartiness, mingled with much trepidation, and John welcomed Wesley with a great show of cordiality. But the visitors were uninterested in the explanations tiat ensued. Kate was fashionably attired, and Wes- ley was fitted out in the latest watering-place suit. Indeed, their mere appearance was sufficient to put some kind of new responsibility upon their hosts to keep up with it. "Now, you must put up with everything as you find it, dear," began Lucy. " Every- thing is torn to pieces, but I'm so glad you came. You know we are just plain country folk now." "Gracious," said Kate, "how do you stand it ? " " Oh, I always loved the country, you know. 163 ■tuam MAKING OF A COUNTRY HoME i Just come round and sec the view from the rear <^ the house. All our treasures are out of doors. Whatever brought you up so unexpectedly ? " " Wes wanted to sec John on a matter of busi- ness — it's really important — the greater piece of luck. Can't we go in and sit down ? '* " I want you to see the view first," replied Lucy. " Isn't it beautiful ? " " Yes," said Kate, without looking at it. "Lovely. You see Wes has got hold of a splen- did business chance, and he wants John to join him. There's a fortune in it." "You don't mean it!" exclaimed Lucy. "That's the Mahwah River down there. I'll take you down and show you the meadow when you get your things off." ''Charming," said Kate. "I don't think we'll have time to enjoy it. Don't you find it lonesome ? " " You know I always wanted a home of my own. We are going to enlarge the house. Wouldn't you like to see the garden ? " " I suppose you keep cows and pigs and things. Heavens, Lucy Dennison, I always thought you were meant to shine in the best circles, and not become a dairymaid — and you would, too, if John were not so narrow." "Narrow! Oh, come now — everybody who knows John says he is a yard wide." " I know," said Kate, " and all wool. But you are silk, my dear, and made for society. What are you going to do when you get tired of this ? 164 THE TEMPTER ENTERS Why, you will be utterly ruined for society. Haven't you thought of that ? " "I'm afraid I nave not," said. Lucy, laugh- ingly. "John will not let me get tired of it." " You put me out of all patience — whatever has come over you. I believe your husband has hypnotized you. I wish you would give me a glass of ice-water. Can't we go in ? I don't want to be ruined by freckles." " I will give you a nice glass of cool well water," replied Lucy. " How would you like a glass of fresh milk ? " " Milk will do. I don't suppose you have any Vichy, have you ? How absurd I am ! " When they were inside and the milk ha> been placed before her, Kate lifted her veil, took an occasional sip, and continued : — " Now I do hope that you will not be silly. Wes has got hold of the biggest kind of a chance, and he wants John to go in with him." " Speculation ? " cried Lucy. " He'll never get John into it." "Speculation — nonsense. It's a capitalized company with millions behind it. Syndicate, my dear. Everything is syndicates nowadays. They have offered Wes five thousand a year and a percentage." " Good gracious ! " said Lucy. " You don't like the milk, do you ? " " To tell you the truth, dear, I'm not used to drinking it clear. It's awfully foolish, but do you know, clear milk is so cowy. But as I was 165 jz ■mmt MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME saying. Wes and I hav^ about made up our minds to launch out. We've scratched along until we're tired of it. What's the use, one might as well get some comfort out of life while it lasts. Wes has got a whole line of customers in the West at his call, and the new company knows it — so has John. Anyway, we're going in for ourselves this time. I've about made up my mind that I can't get along decently on a beggarly two thousand a year. No more can you, dear." " But it's so sure," said Lucy. " Yes, slow and sure, and that's just what I'm tired of. A woman likes something a little faster, even if it isn't so dead open and shut. Wes and I are going to take care of Number One, and that's what you must do. Let me tell you — I've been looking at a house in Forty-second Street — four story and basement, stone front, high stoop, only three thousand a year — sixteen rooms, saloon parlour, steam heated, back stairs for servants, con- servatory addition. Can't you go back with me ? I want you to look at it. It's near all the theatres, the opera house, and the hotels. Put on your things and come on down with me. I'll tell you all about it." "Why, you're not going straight back, I hope." " Yes, we must. Wes has got his hands full. He only came up to get John into it, and I came with him to take you back. Don't be foolish. I want you to see that dining-room. I can seat thirty people in it." i66 THE TEMPTER ENTERS " How nice," said Lucy. « But three thousand a year, Kate — my ! " " If John knows when he is well off and we took it together, the rent wouldn't be so much, and as for the furnishing, Wes has made all the arrange- ments. You know it isn't customary to pay cash now for furnishing — the syndicates do it for you." Lucy tried to be purringly evasive. "What a handsome dress that is," sne said. " Don't you like the sleeve ? It's bolero. I thought it would catch you." " res, there's nothing so pretty as a bell sleeve with an edging of lace below the elbow, is there — and puffs at the wrist ? " " I'll show you my bolero figured dining-robe when you come down. This cost me eighty-five dollars. Heavens, Lucy, you see Wes must branch out somewhere if we are to keep up with the times. How do the trains run on that hor- rid railroad of yours ? " Meanwhile John was fondly pointing cut to Wesley the matchless opportunities which the place aflForded for improvements. " I've got a cistern there forty feet long," said John, pointing to the long surface of raw earth that was spread over his subterranean achievement. Wes looked at it wonderingly. "What's it for ? " he asked. " Water," said John triumphantly. " Planned and built it myself." " Can't we go in where it is cool and sit down ? I want to talk to you." 167 mm MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Let me show you the place first." " Fine place," said Wes. « Let's go under those trees." When they were seated under the cedars, Wes bejDran at once. " I've got the biggest kind of a thing in tow, old fellow," he said/" and I want you in with me." " Is it the new company that I heard of— some kind of a cooperative scheme ? " "I don't know what you've heard, but I'm on the inside. Capital, three millions. They pro- pose to do business farther up town, and combine the wholesale and retail departments. They have offered me five thousand a year and five per cent commission on out-of-town customers." " Then you're going to leave our house ? " " Well, I'm going to look out for myself. Cramp is in the company, and what he says, goes. He asked me if I thought you Would join them if you got a good offer. That's what I'm here for." John shook his head. "I don't think I'm in a position now to take any new chances," he said. " Besides, our firm has always treated me so hand- somely." *' Oh, don't give me that. You've got all those Minnesota buyers at your back, and now is the time to turn your advantage to some account. It will be worth five or six thousand a year to you, and I thought that if you and I took a house together, we could bag a lot of those Western fellows socially without trotting round i68 THE TEMPTER ENTERS to the hotels. Besides, the women will have • chance to see life as it is. Kate was looking at a house in ^orty-sccond Street yesterday. I ?poke to Cramp about it and he said it was a good game. You 11 be nred of this thing up here before win- «r.u .* *"PP^^ ^"*^y '* ^"^^ o^ 't now." T u ^**»„yP" f« ^<^a^ wrong on that point," said John. Let s take a walk over the grounds. I want to show you the garden." "I'll tell you how it is, old man," Wesley said without heeding the invitation. "You and I must snatch our chance when it comes our way and there's a pot of money to be blown in on this* scheme, and we might as well have some of it." " Does Katt approve of it ? " "Approve of it? Why, she's red hot for it. Kate wasn t built on the twenty-four hundred a year gauge. You leave Lucy to her, she'll talk her round. If you'll come down with me to- night and stay over, I'll introduce you to Cramo to-morrow We can have a little dinner at the Holland House — you'll like Cramp — and then we can go to the Casino." "It's no use, Wes," said John ; « I'm all tied up here, and I can't think of it." "Cramp will talk you out of that strain in fif- teen minutes. Good Lord, man, you ought to think of your wife and boy." " I'll talk to Lucy about it. There's plenty of time You are going to stay to dinner, of couree." Dinner? No. We've got to jump back. Kate and I are going to a reception of the Buyers' 169 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Club, and we want you to come with us. Come on, old chap. You will meet all the new men and we'll get you back into the swim." John only shook his head, and vainly tried to press his hospitality upon his friend. But the humble natural advantages of his home somehow appeared to dwindle in the presence v f this com- pany, and when they went hurriedly away, John took a long breath of relief, as if a distressing weight had been removed, and he and his wire looKed at each other in silence a moment. Then John said: — " What did you say to Kate ? " "Why, what could I say, except that I sup- posed she would have a gay time of it." " So she will, my dear, while it lasts." " And you don't think it will last ? " " No ; nothing ever lasts very lone with Kate." " I suppose," said Lucy, " that Wes would tell you that when nothing is risked nothing is gained." " But that cheap remark wouldn't influence you any more than it does me." " Well," said Lucy, " Kate will have a lot of fun, I dare say. I should just like to see for once how it felt to spend money instead of sav- • " II mg It. " Some other person's money ? " queried John. " You told Wes that you wouldn't entertain the idea?" " I gave him to understand that you wouldn't consent to it, and that I always consulted you." " My," said Lucy, thinking of the four-story 170 3 € THE TEMPTER ENTERS house and the saloon parlour. "How disap- pointed Kate will be." *^ « Ijy^jo" ""^ not disappointed, are you ? " No, she replied hesitatingly. "I wasn't made to shine in the same circle with Kate. Did you notice her dress ? She said it cost her eighty- five dollars." * ^ I* Then I'll wager it isn't paid for." "It must be fun to have everything you want without worrying about paving for it. Maybe Wes will make a fortune and not kill himself with hard work. Isn't that the way fortunes are made nowadays, dear ? Think of five thousand a year. John. ' * "It sounded to me like five thousand birds in the bush. I* You always were so timid, dear." *| Have vou come to that conclusion ? " "l^ 0"» no. That is what Kate said." "Oh, she said that, did she .? Confound her impudence. I believe she upset your mind with that eighty-five-dollar dress." " Well, you must acknowledge, dear, that it was perfectly stunning. I tried my best to influ- ence her mind with my one bird in hand, but it didn t work at all." . "9}' ^won^an doesn't understand a bird in hand, said John, testily. « All she cares for is a bird in her hat. I don't see why they don't wear cats on their bonnets — it would be more appropriate." " How mean you can be, John," said Lucy. 171 ^ % ■mi ■H MKXOCOPY RESOIUTION TEST CHART (ANSI and ISO TEST CHART No. 2) Ib »2A ■ U) ■^H Itt M33 a^A US lit a*o i 1^ 12.2 ^ >IPPLIED IIVMGE Inc 1653 Eost Main Street Rochester. New York 14609 USA (716) 482 - 0300 - Phone (716) 288 -5989 -Fa, I I MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME "What's the cat got to do with it? You are almost as bad as your cat-lawyer." "Oh, of course. A man who has a steady purpose and sticks to it must be insane. In my opinion, Kate is a cat, "nd you are bewildered by her fur." ,, c- ^ c - " " You forget that she is an old friend ot mine. " No, I don't. I wish I could. If she'd stay away I might." " Stay away ? Do you want to cut o.'^ the only friend I've got? Perhaps you don't wish me to visit Kate." , " Oh, you want to visit her now, don t you i ^^ " Good heavens, John, do you object to that? " "She asked you to come down and look at the house." " Was it a crime ? " " And you want to go ? " " If I did, I suppose you would put your foot down. Don't go too far, John, a woman is dif- ferent from a cistern." This allusion to his pet hole in the ground stung him a little, and he gave way to a retort. " It's a pity," he said, " that she is. She might be made to 'store up something if she wasn't." Then it was Lucy's turn. "You'll find," she said with a sob, " that a woman can't be made part of your irrigation plant," and then with a woman's contradictory nature, she began to cry. "When you are in a better humour," said John, as he walked away, " perhaps you will take an- other view of it." 172 THE TEMPTER ENTERS In the well-regulated affairs of ordinary mar- ried mortals such occurrences as these are called spats. They correspond to what in lovers' af- fairs are called tiffs, only they resemble the for- mer as the rain resembles the mist. They are of no more apjparent use to the domestic system than the vermiform appendix appears to be to the corporeal system, but they are as prevalent and as annoying. Perhaps in a larger view of humanity they may be seen to play the part of Mi.rch winds and stir up the lethargic impulses of life. Who knows ? John strode off with a fine evanescent indigna- tion, and his wife went in to her mother, wiping her eyes. As he passed the back porch on his way to his workshop, he saw Medusa lying in all her pleni- tude of equable superiority, in the twilight. As he approached she gave him a calm look of Ori- ental contempt and went into the house, saying with all the silent eloquence of feline felicity, " Keep your distance, miserable man ; you ought to see that we belong to different orders of life." Such a trivial occurrence could not in itself have stirred up inhuman reflections in John's mind, but it probably came at a time when the mind was predisposed to relieve itself by some kind of irrational action, and he instinctively picked up a brick to heave at the animal. He was just about to throw it, when his mother-in- law appeared at the door, picked up Medusa with affectiorate tenderness, and disappeared. 173 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Ti»^ consciousness that in another second the brick would have landed squarely upon the be- nign person of that old lady, producing a wreck that was inconceivably terrible, only added to John's baffled irritation. He threw down the missile and stalked moodily to the workshop. There he found Mart down on his knees nursing the bull-terrier pup that Sprague had sent him. Mart's hands were dabbled with blood, and with one of them he held a small bottle of vaseline. " What are you up to ? " asked John, a little severely, as if Mart offered a good target for his unexpressed discomfiture. " Just patching up the pup's nose," said Mart. "The little chap followed me up to the house, and the cat tore a piece out of his smeller." "Oh, she did. I suppose we'll have to kill the pup to accommodate that d — d cat." Mart smiled. " No, sir," he said, "if we take good care of him, I think it will be the other way. Cats is a good deal like women, sir, they can't measure up what they can't see. He'll bite her in two some day. Look at the jaw of him. That's a good dog, sir. It would have paid the cat to have made friends with him. But he's a baby, sir, and he don't know what kind of world he's got into yet." This conversation put John into a better humour, and later in the evening, when he and I .ucy came together again, they began to set their stunsails and shake out their top hamper, as a sailor would say, as if there was a dead calm in view. 174 THE TEMPTER ENTERS ^' What hurt me, John," said Lucy, " was your unfeeling insinuation that I had lost all interest in our home, just because I wanted to go down and see how Kate's foolish experiment works. You know she's an old friend, ^^d I couldn't help taking some interest in her v. ..fare." " And it was so unlike you, Lucy," said John, " to think that I would object to your going down. And then you spoke disrespectfully of the cis- tern." " Well, John dear, I never would, I am sure, if you hadn't lugged the cat into it. If Kate should have a house in the city next winter, it would be very convenient for us if we wanted to run down and stay over, and we might want to when the cold weather sets in. I just thought I'd like to see what the women are going to wear this fall." "And you were mean enough to think I'd object to it — that's what hurt me," said John. " Oh, I never did," said Lucy. " You misun- derstood me. You always do fly off in that manner. I should think you knew me well enough to trust me out of your sight." " Of course I do," said John. " I would trust you anywhere. But my great comfort is that nobody else will." " Why, what do you mean ? " " I refer to the 'co«)founded tradesmen. The trouble with Kate is that all the tradesmen do trust her." At this point he suppressed the conversation 175 i.L.^ MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME with gentle violence, and utterly prevented his wife's mouth, which had budded to a retort, from bursting into a reply. A few days later, and Lucy accompanied him to the city. He came back without her. He noticed how absurdly lonesome the place looked, and he wondered if this was what the news- papers called "a new departure." Some misgiv- mgs he had that were not easily overcome, though he struggled very hard to dispel them. " I'll make hay while the sun shines," he remarked to himself encouragingly. " Appearances go a great ways with women. I must on with my work and get this place into inviting shape." He thought of how poor a show his old stone house made to his city visitors ; how disdainfully Kate had swept her eye over the solid and squat struc- ture, and how carefully Wes had avoided all reference to it. But this only piqued his pride a little, and if some one had offered him ten thousand a year at that moment, to abandon his scheme, he would have rejected it with scorn. " No, sir," he said, " I'll show them all that I've got the right idea. Hold fast is the better dog — by thunder, I'll go down to the shed and look at my pup's jaw." It was at this stage in John's domestic career that the project of making a country home en- tered upon its determinative course. It had not been plain sailing altogether, and he felt that he had not received the sympathy to which he was entitled. Now that he was alone • ith his work, 176 THE TEMPTER ENTERS rt the results looked meagre enough by the side of the stupendous thoughts and toil they had exacted. He had spent months of prodigious labour and nothing was visible to the eye. His greatest feat of all was buried in the ground, as if he nad been making a grave. Might it not be that he was making a mistake, committing indeed the folly that so many men commit when they retire with a chimera to the country ? Then, if he was wrong, Wes would be right, and might not the fellows like Wes, who made up their minds to get all there is out of life while it passes, be really the fortunate if not the successnil fel- lows? He looked at his uniinished stone fence along the front of the property. It had a pre- tentious irony at times as if it were overstrained. He knew very well that the passers-by, who saw the property in its discouraging aspects, made supercilious remarks, and said, "What do you suppose that fellow is trying to do with that old place.?" He had seen the ironical smiles and their good-natured incredulity. Nobody believed in him. Even Mr. Swarthout was complacently waiting to take the property back when the wild experiment had exhausted itself These are the discouragements that no ordi- nary man escapes who has set himself a task to perform. But it is' worth recording that the ordinary man, capable of setting himself a worthy task that involves his purely masculine qualities, is usually supplied with a dogged determination that has to be reckoned with. The ordinary 177 MAKING OF A COUNTRY. AOME man does not like to be beaten even by events. John did not use that word he had an idiom of his own. He looked at the stubborn chaos about him, thought of the incredulity of his friends, and said, " Well, I've gone into the fight, and I'm not going to be licked." Sometimes the phraseology of the ordinary man means so much that it is not wise to trans- late it into a politer currency. This feeling of aggressive grip approaches to heroism, especially when there are limited resources of friends and money, but it is a heroism very much like the poet's or the soldier's, apt to be posthumous in its celebration. John went to Mr. Braddock. Why he went there it would be impossible to say. He did not know himself. He caught that lawyer walking up and down in his office with a red carnation in one hand and a white carnation in the other, sniff- ing at them alternately with meditative beaminess. " I thought, perhaps," said John, " you could teli me of a good reliable builder, a carpenter who >« our of a job. I want to consult him about L my house. The fact is, I want associate o ' of a practical kind." . Braddock broke out with a placid reful- gence as he sniffed at the white carnation. " Do you think," he asked, " that the colour of a flower is in any way determinative of its odour ? I fancy that this white pink, which does not catch the eye like the red pink, has a subtler fragrance. What do you think ? " 178 THE TEMPTER ENTERS I " I'm in a good deal of a quandary with respect to my improvements," contmued John, "and I wish to consult with a thoroughgoing mechanic. You might know of a man who is disengaged, and reasonable, somebody of experience who wants work." Mr. Braddock walked to the door of his office. "Benton," he said, "what's Ridabok doing?" " Nothing, I guess," answered the voice of Benton. "The odour of flowers," resumed Mr. Brad- dock, "is an interesting study, entirely on the side of temperament. How's Medusa ? " " Is Mr. Ridabok a carpenter ? " asked John. "Mr. Ridabok," replied Mr. Braddock, with an inscrutable smile, "is a white carnation. You're not looking for colour, are you ? He doesn't catch the eye, but he has more tempera- ment than most of them ; puts you in mind of a bunch of sweet-william growing in the corner of an old garden. It always looks as if the gar- den was trying to get away from it." "Is he a good workman ? That's what I want to know." " Yes, that's his misfortune." " Why misfortune ? " " Because I don't think we care for good work- men nowadays. You see he's built half the old houses in this place, and it costs more to pull them down than it's worth. These old fellows, Mr. Dennison, never made any provision for 179 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME I pulling down. They built houses as if they expected a man's children to live in them, and when the children came to tear them to pieces it didn't pay. You'll find that old house of yours underpinned with locust and laid down on sills of oalc hewn out with a broadaxe and double morticed. The old oo!s had no conception of a millenuium." " I don't propose to tear down the old house. I want to improve it a little in my own way, and I want a man who will do just what I tell him and work by the week. I'll furnish the ideas and the money. He is to furnish the labor and the skill. You see, I wish to avoid a contractor and an architect. I want to take my own time, stop when I please, and do as I like generally. If I can get hold of a good man who wants to work and IS content to work my way, I might give him a job for half a year. Is Mr. Ridabok the sort of chap I am looking for ? " " Mr. Ridabok is very unfortunate. In the first place, he insists on getting old, and that is unpardonable. What can you do with a man who gets to ' • fifty-five without knowing it, and will nave . rheumatism occasionally without paying any attention to it ? No adaptability ; msists on morticing his studding instead of nail- ing it ; don't believe in patent siding or Mansard roofs." " I should say," remarked John, " that he might have some reliable, old-fashioned notions." "Just so," said Mr. Braddock. "A regular 1 80 THE TEMPTER ENTERS like the dr«crip- orthodox old hard-shell builder. Those old fel- lows seemed to build as if they had eternity in view. You take their work to pieces, and you're sure to come across some old lumber that will not give an inch. It's like one of those old home-made copy-books that our mothers used lo stitch together for us, with ' Honesty is the Best Policy ' written large at the top. You don't want to bother with that kind of a man, do you ? You are young and from the city." " Ycs,'^ said John, " I *ther tion." Mr. Braddock sniffed for a moment. " Suppose you stop here to-night and pick him up, I'll have him wait for you." At that moment May Braddoc\ came into the office, and to John's surprise was accompanied by Mr. Sprague. " Halloo, Dennison, going to the city ? I'll go with you," said Sprague. " How's the pup ? " " There's our train coming now," said John. " Come along." "Have you got that list of commissions?" asked Mr. Braddock. " Don't forget that new ca^ food." " I will .tttenf' i) them all," said Sprague, blush- ingly, as he ft jwed John out the door, " if I don't get the par-^-sis in the city." " One mon»ef%f^ Mr Sprague," called May ^ * igue and John stopped, shp ou please, Mr. Sprague." . un the train John expressed i8i Braddock, in^ said : " Par-t When they MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME •ome surprise at seeing Sprague up there. «* Oh, I've commuted," said Spraeue. " You don't say so," said John. And that night when John wrou a letter to his wife, telling her that her mother was well and was " doing up • blackberries, tomatoes, onions, ground cherries, pickles, and catsup, he added a postscript of startling import, as follows : — " P.S. — Sprague has commuted." 182 CHAPTER IX THE RAISING OF THE ROOk (( M R. RIDABOK, I understand fron. Mr. Braddock that you are one of those sensible men who would rather work for fifteen dollars a week for six months, than work two days out of the week for three dollars and a half a day. Am I right?" "I d' know as you are," said Mr. Ridabok. " I'm one of them men as thinks his work is worth its price." " In that I agree with you entirely. I shouldn't wonder if it was worth more than the prevailing price. But that's not the question with me. 1 have fifteen dollars a week to spend and no more, and I must find a good man who is worth a good deal more, but will take all I've got and be satis- fied with it. Are you that kind of a man?" "I d' know as I .in," said Mr. P''dabok. "What i? it you want to do?" MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Rebuild this house," replied John. " And you hev some doubts about your hevin* money enough." " Not a doubt in the world," said John, " if I can do it my way. You see you have a great advantage of me. You have a great deal of skill, and I have only a small salary. I was thinking if we met halfway, I could get the benefit of. your skill and you could get some of my salary." Mr. Ridabok looked around at the old- fashioned room critically. " Thinkin' of makin* a contract ? " " No, only an agreement, to work by the week. Cash every Saturday. When my money gives out, you stop. I'll furnish the ideas and money, you do the work and ask no questions." " Gimme an idea of what you want to do." John put the plans before him. Together they studied them inch by inch. One man was reticent, patient, careful, mathematical ; the other was explanatory, voluble, enthusiastic — built the house several times, in fact, in the air, while the carpenter was figuring. " It's goin' to cost you 'bout a thousand dol- lars," said Mr. Ridabok at last, as he held a two- foot rule in front of him and counted the inches. John gave a little gulp. " How much of it for lumber and other material ? " Mr. Ridabok fell to figuring again. " I should say roughly about seven hundred dollars. I'll have to go over it carefully." " Don't you think that it will be a fine-looking 184 'i s 1 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF gentleman's place when it Is finished?" asked John, holding up the plans. "Make a nice house," said Mr. Ridabok, guardedly. " When did you think of starting in?" Now. Suppose you just figure the stuff in teet. 1 11 have the first load up here to-morrow, and Mart can bring your tool-chest up in the wagon. Then while you are getting out the lumber I'll have the foundation of the extension and bay put in. You can then rattle on the roof with a helper, close in the whole thing before frost, and work inside when the winter comes." Mr. Ridabok said nothing. He was figuring. It seemed to John that he was unpardonably slow. But it did not occur to John that he might also be pardonably sure. Finally the schedule, made with a blunt pencil and not as correct in its orthography as in its mathematics, stood out as follows : — Rafters 912 ft. Roof boards . ... . . 16,800 ft. P'"'" 218 ft. S'ding 700 ft. Studding ,75 ft. Estimated cost of lumber $300.00 Shingles — 56 bundles ' 67!oo Bay Window— sash and glass . . . [ 100.00 Nails 1 8 00 Carpenter work ....'.'..'. jooioo AAA L $785.00 Add mason work 100.00 'To'"' 1887^ 185 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME John looked at this result with a double feel- ing of shrinkage and exultation. But as Mr. Ridabok said nothing about accepting the job, and went on interesting himself in the details, John came to the conclusion that he intended to accept the terms on condition that they were not mentioned again. Practical men have their little intuitions as well as women. Mr. Ridabok managed to convey the idea that he adjusted himself to the condition under compulsion. In fact, it was understood without words that so far as the world was concerned, he was to get three dollars and a half a day, and if he didn't get it nobody would be the wiser; and this point got over with the acumen of silence, Mr. Ridabok went away saying : " I s'pose you'll send for that chist in the mornin*." When he was gone John stood with contradic- tory feelings on the edge of his accomplishment, and felt all the exhilaration of a pioneer with some of the misgivings of an amateur. He had five hundred dollars put by for the mortgage, but the mortgage had f^ur years to run ; and he could squeeze the other five hundred piecemeal out of his salary in six months. It was as plain as a pikestaff. He could always renew a trivial mortgage of five hundred dollars on a house tSat he had spent a thousand on. Lucy was quite right when she said that a man must take some chances if he expected to make a hit. Many a man before John Dennison had, with the noblest intention, put his foot on this delusive i86 H 41 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF ground, and found when the time came that he had miscalculated. John knew that well enough, but if he was not a speculator in the ordinary sense of that word, neither was he a sentimen- talist. He figured it all out to himself as quite within the allowable scope of a discreet ambition. He would keep everything else down to a mini- mum of expense until he had accomplished this purpose. It is only fair to him to say that he knew that many men had done this also. This interview took place on the 26th of Au- gust. In two weeks an enormous pile of lumber had been stored up adjacent to the workshop. Mr. Ridabok was working away at the material, and the two-feet foundations were in for the bay and the extension of the dining-room. John looked on with eager satisfaction. A dis- aster to himself would now ruin all, and his affairs would be in a worse plight than when he started. But what young man who sets out to run a race calculates the chances of paralysis or lightning.? One thing would have made matters more com- fortable, he thought. He missed his wife during the first week. He wanted a confidante and part- ner in the preparation — somebody that he could talk it all over with step by step ; the wife could have shown her belief in the result through her faith in him. He thought he was entitled to this, and he had certainly counted on it. At the end of a week Lucy came back. He met her at the railway station in the city, and thev came home together. Her appearance surprised him a little. 187 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Man-like he thought she looked younger, and that piqued him. The fact is, she didn t — she only looked gayer. In matters of appearance men cannot always distinguish between piquancy of manner and freshness of condition. She wore a new and exhilarating hat, and her conversation was dressed in a fresh volubility. " Well, you dear old drudge," she said, " you never came near me all the time I was in the city, did you ? And you knew I had so many things to tell you — what are you staring at — my hat? Isn't it becoming ? It's Kate's. How's Harold? I suppose the dear old homestead and the dear old red mud are just the same. Isn't it awfully hot ? " " The hat certainly becomes you," said John, " but I should think it would be more comfort- able if it were your own." " Don't be foolish, dear. I couldn't afford to pay for a hat like that, and Kate has all kinds sent over to her just to try. I don't believe you are glad to see me one bit." "Oh, yes, I am," replied John, "but I'm not as glad to see you one bit, as I would be to see you every day." " Really ? Everything is torn up, I suppose, as usual." " Worse than ever. I've had the stone-masons there, and now the carpenter is come." " How nice ! When will they get through ? How's Medusa ? Don't you want to know how Wes is getting on r " i88 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF " Oh, I know," said John. " Wes can only get on in one way. It's humiliating to confess it, but it isn't my way. Is that dandy waist Kate's too ? " " How mean you can be, and you haven't seen me for a week." And so on, buzz, buzz, till they drove in at their own gate, and, without looking at the foun- dations or the lumber, Lucy ran into the house and began to hug and kiss the family seriatim, ending up with a superfluous demonstration on Medusa. It was with some misgiving that John learned of his wife's intention to return to the c-ty. "Yes," she said, aiming her explanation at her mother, "I left Kate down with the sick head- ache, and she made me promise to come back and stay until she got better. It would be too mean to leave her alone in that big house and she all used II n." But this information was softened with so much sudden interest in the details of John's work, that he did not get a chance to upbraid her. " You must show me the foundations," she said, "and explain everything. And I want to see the lumber — oh, yes, how's the cistern, is that all right? You will explain everything, John, won't you ? " There was not the slightest suspicion in John's mind that her vivacious efforts to act as if she had been away six months were a little overdone, and that she might be crowding as much of a disagreeable duty into a small space, so as to get away to the city as soon as possible. So he kept his temper. How could he do otherwise when 189 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME a warm arm was locked in his, and there was a purring accompaniment of " my dears," and she wanted to know Just how big the bay would be, and expressed unbounded dehght at a dining-room that was as yet safely hidden in John's imagina- tion, and even showed an unnatural interest in the pup, that had now grown to be a long, suspicious animal that had to be kept chained in the stable, and that put his head down and lifted his lip to show a white tooth warningly when she said, " Why, you beautiful dog ! " And then how she bubbled over with her city experiences. They were so naive, so prettily trivial against the hard details of home building, that his wife seemed to John to be in a twitter like a bird coming out of freedom to a new cage. "What do you think," she said, " Holcomb came to the house to call, and delighted every- body with ' spirits and his voice. He is a regular visitor there now, and he has written a comic opera — think of that — Mexican or some- thing, full of the most delightful chirrups. He taught me the * BanJ'ts* Chorus,' for I couldn't get the melody out of my head. It goes like this, — wait till I show you," and she lit on the piano stool and began to play and sing a chorus. «« « We're vaqueros in the Summer, And torredos in the Fall, And caveleros gayly when we sing. We have soft Castilian names And we play at parlor games. But we're very nasty bandits in the Spring.' 190 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF " Isn't it jolly ? You should hear Holcomb sing it with a sombrero on." Mother wanted to know what it meant, and John's ear, which was not of the best, failed to catch what Lucy called the swing of it, which would have piqued her if she had not been self- set on amiability, for there is really something dis- couraging in having a husband who does not exult in a pretty woman's bravado and saucy declara- tion that she is a very nasty bandit in the spring. " Oh, well, dear," she said, jumping up with the same alacrity, " you don't care for music, do you, and you want to talk to me about the cis- tern, don't you ? " " I should like to have you go over the accounts with me," said John. " I want to show you just where we stand, what has been done, and what we are to expect." " Oh, give me a breathing spell, dear ! Every- thing is going all right, I am sure. The place looks just lovely, and it's going to be beautiful when It's finished, and I suppose it will be fin- ished sometime, John. That reminds me, we ought to have the house heated by steam — you don't know how convenient it is." When Tilka put before her at breakfast some fresh mushrooms on toast, her astonishment was great. " Why, where did you get the cham- pignons ? Kate sent all over town for some and when she got them the cook spoiled them. Aren't they lovely ? " " Mart raises them in the stable," said John, 191 k MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " in an escritoire, and therefore they ought to be French, but they are not. They are sohd Amer- ican mushrooms." " Kate had so much trouble with her cook that she discharged her." "And Old the cooicing herself, I suppose," added John. " Oh, no, she abolished the cooking too ! " " Abolished it ? How about the eating ? She didn't abolish that, did she, with Holcomb com- ing there regularly ? " " Had the food sent in," said Lucy. " It's al- together more convenient and less mussy. Kate couldn't stand the smells from the kitchen. I think it affected her neuralgia. Think of the worry and fuss we got rid of When it comes time to eat, she says, * Shall we go out, or have it sent in ? * and if one don't feel like dressing, it's an awful convenience. You just ring the call and write out your order." " That's a great advantage," said John. " You never know what it costs till it's too late to cor- rect it. I suppose Kate thinks it is one of the modern conveniences, like Cramp." " Why, what do you mean, John ? " " I mean," replied John, " that our mushrooms have no bills behind them, or sick headaches. They are the common American kind, and won't keep you awake nights, so they are not a modern convenience." "How preachy he is getting to be, isn't he. Mother ? " 192 f f THE RAISING OF THE ROOF " I suppose," said Mother, " that Kate buys all her preserves ready put up at the store." She said this with well-guarded disdain for such a pro- ceeding. " Preserves — gracious, no. I don't think city people care for them. She keeps rillettes and pates in the house for a quick tiffin — John, we must lay in some rillettes, they're delicious and so convenient if anybody drops in. Only twenty- five cents a can — you know rillettes?" " Never heard of them," said John. " Do they grow on bushes or in drills ? " " How ridiculous you are ! " "Ain't I?" responded John, submerging his grammar in lis other ignorance. " Do you know, if I keep on at these homely improvements long enough, that I will get to believe that ordinary sagacity grows on shrubs and can be picked by the quart. I suppose I'll have to go down to the Astor House Rotunda and get some fresh ideas about life." Then Lucy let off such a roulade of genuine laughter that John, despite his unsympathetic ear, fell into the refrain of it with a weak smile. When, a day or two later, Lucy went away, she hugged and kissed Harold, and said to John with a little extra effusiveness before she left him, " Now, do hurry up, dear, and get things to rights so that we can invite our friends." And this sounded to John, after she had gone, very much as if she would bring Holcomb with her when she came back. ^93 SI i I MAKING OF A COFtnTRY HOME Then the late drouth set in. John could not quite divest himself of the notion that it was in some way associated with the absence of his wife. She had taken all the humidity with her. He had to acknowledge to Mother that it would be some relief to hear her sing that absurd " Bandits' Chorus " in the evening. What was his surprise to hear Mother say: "John, I wouldn't worry if I were you. Girls have to learn some things as well as men. It's best to have them so away and learn them as soon as possible. They are generally more com- fortable afterwards." " What things ? " asked John. "Well," replied Mother, as she held out a spoonful of grape jelly to cool before tasting it, " one of them is that everything that glitters ain't gold, and sometimes not even good gilt. Lucy was always pretty quick with her lessons, but she had to have 'em put before her. You just go on and have patience." This sounded slightly oracular, and John won- dered if a mother might not have some advantage of him in her knowledge of Lucy's character. " The city is a great temptation to a young and lively woman like Lucy," he said tentatively. " So it is," said Mother, " but temptations are the best kind of lessons, after all, when a young woman has had the right bringing up. Lucy will get her dose of it, and come back to her milk like a good cat — and speaking of cats, John, you never brought me up those condition powders 194 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF ti %ot bcyi nd 4 composure r. That w;;s g, thr' chaih, Marf, who stable watch - compUceiitlv for Medusa. The poor thing tries to d ik her milk) but it goes against her." Whatever encouragement the Mother nad in- tended to convey was thus neutralized uninten- tionally by the cat. Not long after, when John walked out of his shop to take an inspiring look at his pile of lumber, he found the hull terrier fastenea to a staple by a three-foot chain, drawn out to its extreme length as the dog tried to get at the cat, that had sat down ji its reach, and glared with the disc at the terrier's endeavours to get ; the superior feline opinion of rf Sprague, and the master's provis. was leaning on the window-sill of ing the two brutes, informed Jo that the cat came every day and »t down lust a foot beyond the reach of the chain w -^ per- turbed defiance, and when the terrier ma>k a lesp for her and was brought up with a crue^ ^rk, rfic cat never turned a hair, but s*.cmcd o i»k, v. th profound placidity, how his neck felt. « It's all right," said Ma " Wh % .fie has made up her mind that its perfect? safe, ill loosen the staple. I wanted to spenl ou, sir, about the garden. You've been su lately that you haven't thought much abcnit m "There's nothing the matter with he garden, is there ? " " Nothing in particular, sir, only I can't keep up with it. I thought you'd like to see how yc ur waterworks come out. S'pose you walk down the 195 r MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME •lope to the melons." John followed him down through the overgrown garden paths, and let him do most of the taikine. As they stood on the edge of the last terrace, Mart said : " Fields pretty gray on either side, sir. Look at them tomat- tusses, sir — early Freedoms. There's only twelve bushes, but they're dandies." He plucked one and handed it to John. " That's good enough for a prii :" said he. " I thought you'd like to see whether the waterworks paid." John sat down on the edse of the terrace and dandled the big tomato admiringly. Mart con- tinued : " You told me to get rid of all the stuff we could not use, and I've sold two bushels of them." " You don't say so." " Yes, sir. S'pose you step down and look at the Delmonico melons. There was enough for five families, so I got rid of all we couldn't use." " Sold 'em ? " " Yes. I wanted to speak to you about it, but you were so busy with vour house that I didn't like to bother you. There's the recount, sir," and Mart pulled out a little book and hand a it to John, who ran his eye down the following list : loo melons $S-oo 2 bushels tomatoes 3.00 8 quarts lima beans 80 2 bushels early potatoes 3.00 30 bunches early onions 1.25 40 quarts blackberries 3.20 too cucumbers i.oo Amount carried forward . , . . 1 17.25 196 THE RAlLiNG OF THE ROOF jlmnmt irtug bt/rtm pretnUH^ ftigt I • 7 • ' J 40 bunches white MiUn turnipi .... i.oo 4$ bunches lettuce s.ao ao bunches beets 1.00 10 cabbages 40 20 cauliflowers 2.00 100 sweet corn a. 00 2 pecks butter beans $0 25 summer squashes 1.20 2$ eg^ plants 2.$o I quart sweet peppers 20 20 bunches radishes 60 Total $30.8$ " A man would never get rich on market gar- dening, Mart," said John. " Well, sir," replied Mart, a little resentfully, "there's a good many ways of gettin* a livin' that ain't so profitable in the end. I'll get twenty dollars more out of that garden before the frost hurts it, and then there's a good row of celery started that you can't eat even if you have that city chap with you. Considerin' that there wasn't much done to the garden, and you've been livin' off it for three months, and I'll have a pretty good cellar full of stuff for the winter, it seems to me that it's a fine showin' of what you could do with it if you give it some attention. There ain't any- body round here has got such tomattusses as them, sir, and we might just as well hed ten bushels as two to sell, when we got that water in. Every- body's tomattusses were burnt up two weeks ago, and Pop Swarthout, he's pullin water from the brook to do his washin'." »97 5 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " And how much do you calculate you can get out of the garden next year — if you have your own way ? " '• Well, I ain't settin* no figures, Mr. Dennison. But you can see for yourselfwhat it's been doin', and what it might have done if I hadn't given so much time to other things. I s'pose you'll be through buildin' next season ? " " I hope so," said John, laughing. "Well, sir, if you don't mind takin' a bit of advice, I'd invest that fifty dollars in fertilizer this fall, and, take my word for it, it will turn you up seventy-five per cent for the investment, and mebbe a hundred. Why, sir, there's a hundred dollars a year in them berries if they was cut out and doubled up." " Mart," said John, "your mushrooms were a great success this morning at breakfast. It must have taken you a good while to bring them about." " Not at all, sir. It didn't take fifteen minutes' work. If you'll step up to the stable I'll show you." And true enough, when thev got there. Mart went up to the old bureau that he had bought at the auction, and pulled out one of the drawers. It disclosed a bed of mushrooms thickly growing over its whole surface. "I just put in a few shovelsful of manure and soil in each drawer, sowed a little spawn, and there you are. They like the dark, sir, and I calculate there's a breakfast in each drawer for some time to come. Lord, sir, you couldn't eat all the 198 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF mushrooms that bureau will produce. I used to keep a piece of furniture like that in my cellar before I came to this country. It was meat and vegetables." " Mart," said John, reflectively, " let me tell you what I wish you'd do. Just make up a bas- ketful of the best things you've got in the garden, and put some of the mushrooms on top. I'd like to send a basketful down to my friends in the city. I think it would surprise them." Acting on this suggestion, they filled a basket with the best of their produce — melons, cucum- bers, cauliflower, lettuce, egg plant, tomatoes, and mushrooms, and they both regarded it with genuine pride. When John went to the city he took it ^ith him, and sent it up by messenger to Wesley's establishment, with a card in it simply inscribed, " From the Homestead." " That will open their eyes," said Mart. " City people don't get such fresh stuff as that, I'll be bound." To which John merely replied, " Yes, that ought to make Mrs. Dennison home- sick." The September drouth was upon them when Mr. Ridabok announced that he was ready to take the roof off. The country was lying sear and arid. The little river at the foot of the hill had shrunk to a rivulet. The roads everywhere were powdery and stifling, and the bordering trees and hedgerows were ashen with the dust. Most of the wells in the neighbourhood had given out, and nature was staggering with a prolonged thirst. 199 ■Ulta MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME K>r" ^K". set a couple of weeks of this," said Mr. Ridabok, « and we'll make those shingles fly before it rains." ^ He picked up two farm hands who could shingle, and with John's and Mart's assistance there was quite a gang of lively workmen one mornmg hard at it when Sprague and May Brad- dock stopped in the pony phaeton to admire the scene, and Sprague, standing up in the vehicle, shouted, " Lovely ! lovely ! " John now began to taste some of the rewards of his persistence and foresight. Mr. Swarthout came and looked over the stone fence in his shirt sleeves, with a real interest in the work and a persistent ignoring of the only garden in the neighbourhood that was not burnt up. He had been known to remark that people who eat muskmelons and mushrooms for breakfast are, as a rule, « foolin' with their innards." He did' not say that slapjacks and rye coffee were the onginal paradisaical regimen, but there was a large and self-satisfied intimation of that sort in his face. That week of arduous work was long icinem- bered by John, less on account of its stress than on account of its zest and animation. There were many surprises in it and some little set- backs, but in spite of all, the doing was like a merrymaking. It is true, the chimneys had to be built up four feet to accommodate the new pitch of the roof, and Mr. Ridabok had overlooked this in his calculations, a little omission that 200 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF added thirty-five dollars to the original estimate. Then, too, the cypress shingles had to be changed for stained shingles, when John began to realize how raw that new roof would look on those old walls; but the celerity with which the external transformation was effected under his eye, made him blindly buoyant, and he worked untiringly with an ardour that he often thought of after- wards, as he asked himself what he had been doing with all his spare time before this task was undertaken. More than anything else the newly discovered friendliness of his neighbours helped him out. As soon as Mr. Swarthout understood the exigencv of the case, he brought his team and man over and offered to do all the hauling, and another neighbour who was passing came in and lent a hand. This kind of assistance was the usual thing among these people. It seemed to be the remains of an old custom of house-raising; and as Mr. Ridabok had everything ready to fit into its place, it was not long before the new sky-line of the improved house rose up with fresh dignity among the trees, and John saw his dream emerge from the paper and lift itself with new pride before his eyes. "Now, th«n," said Mr. Ridabok, "if we can get the sash in on that bay while this weather lasts, I kalkerlate you'll be all hunky dory. I'll have the deck on that bay day after to-morrow, and if you could have the glass into them sash all ready, that room will be tight and ready to 20I a MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME use. It won't take long to put a coat of priming on." Then John became a glazier. He took a few instructions from Mr. Ridabok how to spring in the glass with a chisel and how to use a putty knife, and when he had the hang of it he worked with much lightness of heart m his shop long after the light'^ were out in the house. During this week of hard work John's mother- in-law rose to quiet heights of patient endurance that elicited his unbounded respect. Mrs. Swart- hout had invited her to come over with the boy and stay at the farmhouse till the roof was on ; but Mother stuck to the ship, sleeping now on the lounge, now on chairs, and even on the floor, going from room to room as the work exposed apartment after apartme/.t, keeping an equable temper, and looking after the household duties with an unperturbed patience, so that John slowly began to forgive her even the cat. But just as he had reached this reasonable con- dition, an accident occurred that came like an evil omen and filled him with self-reproaches. He was working away at his frames when an unearthly scream startled him. He rushed out upon the grass and saw in a flash what had occurred. Mart had loosened the staple. The bull terrier had Medusa by the throat, and was giving her the final shake as John came up. He was too late. The cat-inquiries as to how the dog's neck felt were hushed forever, for its own neck was broken; and there was Mart 202 THE RAISING OF THE ROOF leaning on the window-sill of the stable contem- plating the disaster as coolly as if he had long contemplated it. John picked the dead animal up, carried it into the stable, and laid it tenderly on the feed-box. "Go and chain that dog up," he said to Mart with a grufFness he had never before used. Fortunately Lucy's mother was at that moment over at the Swarthout house; but in spite of her ignorance of the affair, John felt an unexpected twinge of compunction in having thus requited her for her faithfulness. In spite of himself and the noisy assurance of a robin that the deed was all right and proper, it looked to him like a stroke of ill luck. Have you never noticed that as soon as a man admits this superstitious notion, something turns up to corroborate it ? John walked to the house moodily, and just as he reached the door a telegram from the city was put into his hand, and this is what it said: — " Lucy sick. Come at once. « Kate." 203 ■f I 1 I CHAPTER X t \ tlMM. RECOMPENSE IN the rush and strain of endeavour, directed mainly to the materials about him, John had not found time or disposition to think of the inevitable and unexpected. The news so sudden and out of all relation to his thoughts, and withal so vaguely full of dire possibilities, was in effect a blow, that one might say had been delivered by an unseen hand, and was cruelly disturbing. He went flying to the city in the evening, eager and apprehensive, and fast as he flew his fears kept ahead of him, for in such crises the mind jumps ahead of railroads and telegraphs to all kinds of ominous conclusions. The possibility of having his wife tah.en out of the scheme of preparation had never occurred to him, and the mere thought of it suddenly threw an air of futility over all that he had been doing. Could it be possible that his projects and his efibrts could suddenly 204 RECOMPENSE be struck with devastation and tumbled into dust? He never remembered arriving in the city. All the usual circumstances of a journey were whelmed and obliterated in an impatient anxiety. He reached the house of his friend about nine o'clock in the evening, and going precipitately up the steps, rang the bell with a summoning vigour. When the door was opened by the maid, the sound of a piano and the voice of a man singing, together with a little burst of laughter, greeted him. With- out any regard to the formalities, he said : " I am Mr. Dennison. Where is Mrs. Dennison ? " The girl looked at him, a little surprised at his eagerness, and as she stepped back Kate Ellis appeared in the hall, seemingly blown there by a gust of laughter, and greeting him with surprising unconcern, said : « Oh, is that you, Mr. Denni- son ? You got my telegram." " How is Lucy ? " asked John, waiving aside all else that was ceremonious, and making it sound very much as if he had said, « Am I too late ? " " Lucy has just gone upstairs to lie down a few moments," Kate replied smilingly. "She'll be delighted to know that you came so promptly." " Can I see her ? " " I wouldn't disturb her for a while. Let her get a little rest. Come into the dining room. Holcomb is here and is singing. Wes will be glad to see you." Before John was well aware of it, he found him- self in a large room where there was a group of 205 ^i i M^ MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME persons enjoying Mr. Holcomb's music. They saluted John heartily, and Wesley, in a dress coat and smoking a cigar, cried out : " By Jove, here's our exemplary rustic, just in time to hear your ballad of • The Perambulating Potato Bug,' Hol- comb. Have a cigar, old fellow, and make your- self at home. This is the doctor. Dr. Chink, Mr. Dennison." " Have you been attending my wife, doctor ? " asked John. " Yes," replied the doctor, keeping half of his attention on Holcomb, and looking as if he were in the casual habit of attending everybody. " Lady's nervous system badly, shaken up; miasm, you know. We're going to send her to the seashore." " It's the penalty of living in the country," said Wesley, cheerfully, and offering John a cigar. A little later he found Lucy reclining upon a bed in an evening dress very much unloosed. The moment she saw him, she exdaimed languidly : " Oh, how good you were to come, John. I hope Kate didn't scare you. What did the telegram " Here it is," replied John. " It says, ' Lucy sick ; come at once.' It was so imperative that I thought of bringing an undertaker with me." " Isn't that just like Kate ? And were you really scared ? " John pulled a chair up to the bed. " What is the matter with you, my poor girl ? " he said, mingling solicitude with some reproach. " Oh, I'll be all right in a few moments," said 206 RECOMPENSE Lucy, " if you will not make me more nervous. No'v that you are here you can stay down a couple of days, can't you ? How's the cistern and every- thing? Listen — Holcomb is singing. I think I'll get up and go down." " lou will have to excuse me, my dear," said John. " I did not come to New York post haste to hear Holcomb sing. I thought you were dying." " And now you are disappointed because I am not." John felt grim, and may have betrayed a little more of his condition than he intended. "You will dress yourself for travelling, my dear. I am going to take you back with me to-night. There is a late train, and Mart will have a carriage waiting for us. If you are going to die suddenly, I think it will be better to have you under my eye and your mother's." " How absurd you can be. Do you suppose I could get myself ready in an hour, and at this time of night ? What would Kate think of such nonsense ? " " I haven't considered what Kate would think. You cannot wear that dress, I suppose." " Can't I ? What do you know about it ? Suppose you hook me up while you are here. I want you to hear Holcomb's song. Kate would never consent to my going away in this idiotic manner." " Kate's consent isn't at all necessary, I assure you, my dear." 207 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Oh, well, vou needn't pull at me as if I was made of wood. I think Kate would have hys- terics if she should come in now, and see you treating your wife as if she were a bay-window or a work bench. Why don't you go gently and hook me up.?" " My dear, the dress will not meet. It doesn't fit you. Wouldn't it be possible to travel with- out its being hooked? You'll wear something over it, of course." " What nonsense. All it needs is firmness and genthness." " There you are. I should think it would cut you in two. Where are your heavy shoes ? " "I never wear them in the evening — you know that as well as I do. They are in the trunk in the closet." John got them out. " If you will sit down, I will lace them up for you. The idea of travel- Img in such a thing as that," he added, as he took off one of her little slippers and held it up, not without a passing admiration. " I never travelled in them," said Lucy, « but I suppose I should have to if I depended on you to lace up my shoes for me. Don't you see that I cannot lace my own shoes as nimbly as I once did? You never will realize that I am eetting old, will you ? " B 5 " I have laced one of them," said John. "Well, I never knew it — it wobbles so. What do you suppose Kate will say if she sees me with these shoes on at this time of night? 208 RECOMPENSE What a biessine it is, John, that wc do not have men maid-servants. They would have everything as loose as they are themselves. I suppose you showed the telegram to mother, and she will not sleep a wink till I get back." "She wasn't half as much worried as I was. You see, she has known you longer. Do these thinw go in your trunk ? " "No; everything of mine is in the trunk. You do not suppose that I can travel with my hair in this condition.? Suppose I should faint on the train." " And no Holcomb about," said John. " Well, that would be tedious. But I'll promise not to throw any cold water on you till you get home. Where's your hat .? " He looked at his watch. "We've got half an hour," he said; "just time to faint before we start." "Then I'd have to be all unhooked again. You see, men have no practical sense of details." " I have. Are these things to go into your satchel?" 6 e y ur " No, goose. My satchel is all packed." " For the seashore, I suppose." " No," said Lucy. " I packed it so as to go home with you when you came. I suppose you thought that you were doing this thing, dear, all by your manly self, didn't you ? " Half an hour later they had slipped quietly away, without disturbing the revelry in the dining-room, Kate alone saying good-by with 209 1 a I' M MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME an unmistakable air of commiseration, and, Lucy thought, with just the least bit of relief. There was something novtl and piquant in the night journey, removed as it was from the rush and roar of the day's work. Even the prosaic sail on the late ferry-boat was unexpcctealy de- lightful, unaccompanied as it was by the com- merce and clash of the earlier hours. The river was moonlit, and the citjr, with its halo of artificial lights, seemed to be sinking away behind them as they drifted out into the cool, inviting night. There were very few passengers on the late train, and those that were, together with the conductor and trainmen, wore a new aspect of pleasant- ness and amiability, as if at that hour it was not necessary to keep up the official hardness of the day. Sitting at the open window, with the fra- frant night air laving her as if she were in a bath, .ucy gave way to a luxurious fantasy. The lights of the stations came regularly and softly out of the shadows in a dreamful dance. The vistas of moonlit pastures and dewy uplands, with glimpses of silvery reposeful waters, lit here and tnere with twinkling lights — all seemed to be very far away from Holcomb and his music. " How dreamful and eerie it all is," said Lucy. "If I must travel, I shall always want to travel at night, when all the disturbing people have gone away. There is some kind of fascination in plung- ing through the night when one leaves the world behind." 2IO RECOMPENSE " Yes," said John, " I suppose most women do like to plunge a little at night." "Oh, but they get over it, John. They have to, if they get husbands who lace them up though I must say they do it very feebly. Do you know it's real jolly to have a big, solemn husband who is a retriever, and knows how to bring things home ? " "But, my dear, the jollity of it consists in hav- ing a home to which you can bring things. Though I suppose some kind of things would come back of their own accord when they got tired." " It's very good of you to thmk that, and yet, I suppose most of us would prefer to have a big, hulking husband bring us back. Gracious, we must be running through a garden — do you smell the pinks ? " " And you really were getting tired of it, were you not ? " said John. " I'll tell you all about it when I get my things off. Is this our station ?" " Yes, and there's Mart waiting for us with a rig." When they arrived at the house it was nearly midnight. The moon hung low in the west, and the old stone structure was outlined clearly and somewhat imposingly against the sky, as Lucy stopped at the gate a moment and surveyed its new outlines. A feeble light was glimmering in one of the windows, and a whip-poor-will was calling shrilly somewhere. " It doesn't look like the same house, John," she said. 211 I; ! I i if If I r, MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME "It isn't — now that you've come back. I guess you are not the same woman ; that's it." John was looking with admiration at his im- proved edifice that ?^cmed to rise up with unex- pected dignity ou of the dusks and he wanted to explam it, but Lu y cut him short by saying: " I wonder if we can y^ '^^vthinr/ to eat. I'm awfully hungry." ^ "Sure," replied John, with proprietary confi- dence. " We'll slip in without disturbing any- body, and while you are taking your things ofl^ 1 11 rummage. I never knew a sick woman to have such an appetite." " It is strange," said Lucy. « I wonder if Tilka keeps the milk cool." And then, like two truants, they stole into their own abode stealthily, with much suppressed enjoy- ment at their precaution, and John, with a lamp m his hand, went softly into the cellar to recon- noitre, while his wife unloosened in the new bay. When she came tiptoeing in search of him, she heard him bumping around under the flooring, and had to go to the cellar stairway and call down in a stage whisper : — " Shall I come down and help you ? " « -r ^°'" ^^'"^ ^^^ ^°'*^^ °^ J"'^" ^'■°'^ beneath ; " if you are unloosed, sit down, and don't make a noise, or we'll have the whole family on us. There's cold milk and cider, and — how would you like one of Tilka's cold bottles of beer.?" « ?n' J°^"'" ^*'^ ^^^Vy " 'f you only would." " AH right. There's a pan of mushrooms, and 212 RECOMPENSE pot-cheese, and cold corned-beef, and apple pie, and — Jerusalem — " " What's the matter ? " " There's the tray of cold chicken." Crash. " Oh, heavens," said Lucy, " what have vou done ? " " I've upset the mushrooms. Most of them have gone into the pan of milk." " Mercy, you haven't broken the beer bottle ? " " No, that is safe. You'll have to come down and carry the light for me." When they were coming i p the cellar stairway single file, and acting altogether like burglars, Lucy had to sit down on the step and relieve her- self by a good laugh. " It's such fun," she said, " to steal your own things. If mother should see us, what would she think ? " " Mother is all right," said John, « and if you do not want Tilka to catch us, you will have to hurry. She'll be stirring at daybreak." When they were seated at the table, Lucy thought it was nicer than the Waldorf "Of course it is," said John. "You can't un- hook yourself at the Waldorf, and, besides, you have to tip the waiter." " Oh, we can tip the waiter," said Lucy ; " that's easy, and we might as well keep up the custom." Whereupon she gave John a kiss, and then re- marked, " Now do open the beer before you do anything else." John made a great flourish in the operation, 213 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME but he was regarding his wife with occasional cunous sid. glances. Something in her manner baffled him a httle. He had never before known her to drink beer, although he had often placed It before her and assured her it would do her good. Nor had she ever been inclined at all to exult in late hours as she was now doing. He did not quite see why an invalid, who, according to her own account, was liable to faint at any moment, should exhibit such a nocturnal appetite and show such a disposition to defy the conventional. Never- theless she was eating a slice of bread and chicken quite voraciously, and drank off the beer like a veteran. There was no use denying that it had a robust charm that was unusual, and as she saw him regarding her with a little wonder, she said : — 1 suppose you think I am quite reckless." I was trying," replied John, "to reconcile it with the telegran^." "It must be Bohemianism, John," said Lucy, and I suppose ^ohemian can have spells, can't he? You have ea how it broadens and lib- eralizes a woman .o go out into the world and see how other people do it." ^ '*Yes, I have," said John, rather solemnly. You must have seen a great deal of the world in a week or two. " Quite enough, John. They scared me a little when I came to understand it, and as I couldn't be a Bohemian in the., .cyle, I felt that when I got back here it would be ouite safe with you around to break out a little, '/oi are not sleepy, are you .? " 214 RECOMPENSE " Not a bit." " Then let me tell you. Wes is so unlike you, John. You know what I mean. In the first place, he's handsome. Oh, there's no use in our deny- ing that. He wears a dress coat as if he was born in It. Of course it's absurd to speak of a man being born in a dress coat, but Kate always in- sists that he was born in society, which is pretty much the same thing. You c^n't help admiring a man, John, who looks so wcil in a dress coat that he hardly ever takes it off, except in a bath-room after he has locked the door. Are you interested?" "Yes ; take some more of the chicken and go on." " It makes a man so superior to the drudgery of thinking. Kate says that he is a young Napo- leon, and her idea of a young Napoleon is a man who rnakes everybody else do the walking. He doesn't have to worry or drudge or pay bills." " How does he manage it ? " " Well, it's me most extraordinary thing in the world — he lets the other fellow pay them. Kate says It would interfere with the gayety if he paid them. Can you understand that ? " "Clearly nothing can be plainer. But when a man and wife go into that kind of partnership it is always marked * Limited.' " ^ The furniture in that house, John, cost three thousand dollars. It was to be paid for by the month, and Cramp managed it. Just before I came up the collector came, and it seems there 215 ffl; ti!; i,ii tr. ! MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME hadn't been anything paid. Kate was quite con- fidential with me, and told me what Crimp said. Oh, let them take the furniture back,' said he- you ve had the use of it, and now you're going to Long Branch. You can always get a fresh supply when you come back.' Now I call thnt gay, John, but — what I wanted to tell you was that Kate and I fell out — and that was the rea- son why she sent the telegram. Holcomb brought a comic-opera singer one night, and Kate said that 1 wasn t to mind if she smoked cigarettes after '^he sang, because It was the custom, and cigarettes burned away foolish barriers. Oh, Kate ?an sav clever things when she is in full dress." "And you helped to burn away the barriers because it was clever ? " " No, I didn't." " Didn't you learn to drink beer ? " " Beer ? \ never saw it in the house. It was champagne twice a day. Kate takes - champagne cocktail before breakfast. * What's a pint bottle among one ? ' said she. * Besides, it clears the complexion. Beer, indeed! Let me see — where was I ? Oh, yes: Kate and I fell out. Its too ridiculous, but I think we really hate each other in the bottom of our hearts. You never could guess what caused it." " Why, the champagne and cigarette ; they al- ways do, or perhaps it was Holcomb." « Oh, you might as well give it up. I got sick — seriously sick, John — and it made Kate indig- nant. She said it shocked her." 216 RECOMPENSE " Well, you probably informed her of it by tele- gram as you did me." ' " No ; I told her confidentially." " Well," said John, " I was informed confiden- tially myself, and she couldn't be more shocked than I was. I was that upset by the telegram that I must have acted foolishly. I thought of course you must be dying. Your motheF stood over there by the door. She was looking for •5 c xJr"^,^^" ^ '■^^'^ ^^^ telegram to her, and I said, Well, mother, I suppose we must make up our minds that there is to be one less of our happy httle group.' " Lucy, who had her elbows on the table, let her head drop between her hands and gurgled a little as she said : « Yes, that's just like you, John, and 1 know exactly what mother said in reply. She turned and looked at you over her spectacles, you stupid old goose, and said : 'One less ? Oh I guess not ; more likely to be one more.' " ' John was staring at Lucy with a mixed expres- sion of surprise and ter 'erness. « No," he said • she didn't say that." ' " Well, then it was because she thought it was superfluous." ^ It was two o'clock in the morning when this platitudinous pair of ordinary persons exhausted themselves and retired, each promising the other that, as It was ' Liberty Hall,' no one ?ould inter- fere with the morning sleep. And yet, such is -he crassness of human nature in ordinary persons that Lucy was up at eight o'clock looking through 217 ■I! i1; It'.' MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME the vines at the glory of the morning, and saying to herself, " I kept John up so late, I'll not dis- turb him for an hour or two;" and there was John out under the trees with Harold, saying to himself, " The poor girl was up so late, we mustn't disturb her, my boy, for two hours." When they '-ame to breakfast Tilka announced in one of her privileged asides : " I think we make some disturbances in the cellar when it was last night. Gott in Himmel, I must that skim the mushrooms off the milk before I can the cream take up." That Sabbath morning was never quite forgot- ten by John and Lucy. There were many other Sabbath mornings just as calm and brilliant, but they were reminders, not surprises. John walked down to the meadow with his arm about his wife. They looked from the kitchen window, as if they were giving an extra artistic touch to the landscape, so that Tilka said to herself as she looked out : " I guess they make some love-talk in the garden." They sat down under the trees, John showing a reticent tenderness and solicitude in little actions that Lucy seemed to invite. The still air carried the vibration of a distant church bell. The white clouds sailed over lazily, like argosies of snow on oceans of blue. The gurgle of the waters was muted into a mellow chant. The steady breath of the western breeze stirred the autumnal foliage into a long-drawn sigh, and there in the cloister of the woods, I dare say, Lucy regarded her hus- band for the time being as a father confessor. 218 RECOMPENSE « I think," she said " it would be better to have hfe all Sundays than all hey-days. I could almost for a text ''"'°" ""^'"'"^ ^'^^ ^^^ atmosphere chS^^^^;S;i::^"pp----the "It's a long time ago, my dear," said John, but do you remember Herbert's lines that vou quoted to me on the Holyoke hills one morning when you wore blue ribbons ? " ° " Indeed, I do," said Lucy. '" O day most calm, most bright. The fruit of this, the next world's bud.' There you are." "And is it just as bright now.? " " Brighter," said Lucy. " But it sounds a little like the tone of that far-away bell, doesn't it .? " nearby What a lot you have done How sur- P'lf.i^P'^S"^ "^'^ ^^ ^^^" he sees the house." Why, he and May Braddock drive up twice a week to look at it. They have watched every nai that was driven. I think they intend to build, themselves." " You don't say so. I suppose May Braddock wants a place to store her old furniture in." bprague asked me the other day what I would take for the place as it stands." 219 ■ S I; MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME fv ■ III "I like his impudence," said Lucy. "What did you tell him ? " " I told him I would consult you. We could get a good advance on the property now, and then we could take a high-stoop house in the city. I thought I'd speak to you about it." " I guess they can build their own house. May Braddock needn't think she can step into my bay and put her old lumber in my bedroom and dig up all my flowers and pull down my vines. What have I been working for, I should like to know ? " " I told her that I didn't think you would like to see all your work go into the hands of some- body else." "I should think not. There isn't another house in the county with a bay like that, John, and when a woman realizes her ideal, it makes her weary to have somebody come along and ask what she'll take for it. Why, I intend it for a conservatory. You wait till you see my flowers in it and the fireplace fixed. That reminds me, John ; I've got a picture of a fireplace I want to show you. I cut it out of one ot the illustrated papers. It's too lovely for anything. Have you thought much about the fireplace, John? You know everything depends on a colonial fireplace in a house like ours ; a tiled hearth — glazed tiles, you know — they shine so when there's a wood fire, and shine is absolutely necessary on a bleak night, especially when there are no bright people present; and brass tongs and shovel — what do 220 RECOMPENSE they have a shovel for, John ? You can't shovel the wood." " Oh, it's to shovel the cinders back off the rug when the night is bleak," said John, laughing. ♦ Then there's a broad mantel high up, so high you have to stand on a chair to reach it ; and there must be two guns crossed over it — old guns — and some nice chipped willow-ware platters set out, and a crane. When we hang the crane, John — have you thought about hanging the crane ? It's really important, my dear ; it must have an old black iron tea-kettle with a hinged lid that jumps up and down while you are talking. Suppose we go up to the house. I want to show you how I've planned it." 221 'il Ij ; fl 9,1 I CHAPTER XI winter's warnings and discomforts THE season was going. Presently it would be winter. « Winter up here," Lucy said, as she stood upon her terrace on a bright autumn morning, with the wind softly rustling her dress and the panorama of change spreading Itself out in russets and duns. In her mind she saw the fields buried in drifts, and the house banked up with snow. The world of human contact would be cut off. She hesitated a mo- ment --she could hear the hammer of Mr. Rida- bok who was tinkering away, laying the flooring of the front porch. Mart, who had been to th? depot with John, drove in as she stood there, bhe called to him a little impatiently. " I want you to help me fix the fireplace this morning. ^ He pulled up his horse and thought a moment. I he potatoes, he said, « I hev to get 'em in." 222 WINTER'S WARNINGS " Potatoes ? •• she repeated. « Must they come in ? " " Well, it would be a pity to lose 'em — they're so fine. There's six barrels of 'em." After a few more words with him she went back to the house, stopping to admire the bay window as usu.\l, and commg round in front, where Mr. Ridabok was driving the narrow boards of the flooring together with a sledge. She was about to ask him if he couldn't come in and help her with the fireplace, when the dainty aspect of the little veranda appealed to her, "nd she exclaimed, " Oh, isn't that going to look pretty ! " Mr. Ridabok, who did not stop pounding, merely said : « Yes'm — that will look quite ship- shape when it's done. But it ought to be painted as fast as I lay it. Them boards will spring if they get wet." " Can't I paint them ? " asked Lucy. " Where's the paint ? I know something about painting." Mr. Ridabok smiled. « f wouldn't start in on it if I was you. There's a good many square feet, and it's all hard rubbin' on your hands and knees with a pound brush." Lucy then went around to the kitchen and found her mother and Tilka so busy that they hardly had time to talk to her. " Can't I help you ? " she said. " It seems to me^that everybody opposes my doing anything." " We are moving the things out of the store closet mto the cellar," said her mother. "I don't think they will keep so well up here." 223 «l «t f MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Let me help vou." "You just sit down and let Tilka run up and down stairs. I ouess we arc pretty much through." Instead of obeying her mother, Lucy picked up the candle and followed Tillca, who had her arms full of jars, down the cellar stairs, and was presently followed by the old lady herself. There were three hanging shelves in the cellar, and they presented an array of jars and bottles that was imposing, and to which Tillca was care- fully adding. Lucy looked at the store with wonder, and exclaimed: "Good gracious, what a collection! I don't believe you know what you've got." " Oh, ycsj I do," replied her mother. " Hold the candle." And she began to read from her list: "Three dozen tomatoes, two dozen suc- cotash, one dozen string beans, one dozen sweet corn, two dozen sweet pickles, two dozen cur- rant jelly, one dozen blackberry jam, one dozen tomato catsup, one dozen chow-chow, two dozen cherries " " Oh, stop, mother." " I think you could buy them not so good at the store," said Tilka. "You go right up out of this damp cellar before you catch your death of cold," said her mother. When John came home in the evening, he brought a friend with him, a young man who carried a little satchel with tools in it. John said, as he introduced him to the family, that 224 ' f WINTERS WARNINGS he was going to fix the fireplace in a friendly way, and take a day in the country. But when the workman came to look at the fireplace, he said the floor would have to come up first. It had to have new headers in, and he must work out to them, so that the carpenter could lay the woodwork up to the tiling and put a sill around the hearth. This meant more discouraging ruction, and sure enough the next morning Mr. Ridabok and Mart and the visitor pushed all the things out of the room and went to work with crow- bars, ripping up the old niank, and knocking little white spots in the wall paper, at each one of which Lucy gave a little gasp, as she stared in at the bay wmdow upon the black chasm of the cellar and felt that the bottom of the house had fallen out. But she watched the workman afterwards as he worked at the fireplace, and felt that there was some fascination in it. She saw the tiles slip into their places, and the hearth and fireplace opening grow into decorative beauty. Kven the dusky figures of her mother and Tilka, moving about in the gloom of the cellar, covering up their pre- serve jars with stout paper, did not draw her attention from her fireplace. She was astonished at the ease and celerity with which the work was accomplished, and when at last they permitted her to stand upon the new flooring, it was a delight to move about on it, so level and smooth and firm was it. 225 •;l f i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME Then it had to be stained, and for two nights she and John were down on their knees with a pot of varnish and a kerosene lamp, making play of the work. It looked very fine when it was done. " It just matches the brickwork, doesn't it ? " said Lucy. " Do you know what the painter would have charged me to do it ? Eleven dollars he wanted. Do you know what it cost us ? Just one dollar and forty cents, and it looks like mahogany." "Oh, there was never any mahogany in the world as handsome as that. But I've got it all over my white dress." Mother and Tilka looked at it when the furni- ture was moved in again, and decided vital points at issue, such as, would the big easy chair look better in the corner or set in the middle of the room, and how would the couch look set askew. It was mother's privilege to modify the enthu- siasm a little with her grave experience. " Fire- places," said she, "have got to be part of the furniture nowadays. When I was a girl, they had to heat the house, and when they did, people didn't have such bay windows as that to let in the cold." " Oh," said Lucy, clapping her hands, " now I know, John, why they never built bay windows in Massachusetts in old times." " Yes," continued mother, " when we sot round a fireplace like that, we always wore our shawls to keep our backs warm. I guess if we'd had bay windows like that, we'd had to wear our furs." 226 WINTER'S WARNINGS " Oh, that was before you had double sashes," said John. "Ill make that bay as tight as a drum." « I think," said Tilka, " I can that make so hot a fire in there, that you must go out in the field for cool." " Then," said John, " you shall make a hick- ory fire on Thanksgiving Day. We'll get Pop Swarthout over to mull some cider," and they all looked at mother, who, with the irrelevancy of ace, said deliberately : — "John, what do you suppose became of our cat ? " " Oh," said John, with lordly indifference, see- ing that they were all waiting for his answer, " oh, the cat? Why — the cat, she must have gone back to Mr. Braddock's when the birds gave out here. I'll tell him to send her back." Thanksgiving came and with it the first experi- ence of social life in the new conditions, and a fresh knowledge of the difficulties that beset it. John had worked unremittingly in his front gar- den, he and Mart toiling late into the moonlight nights to get their lawns seeded and rolled, and he began to feel that his outdoor work was fin- ished for the year. Lucy had arranged in her mind a little celebration. It was to be glowing with her new internal domestic comfort against the wintry exterior. The fire would be lit. The brasses and tiles would shine and glisten. Her friends would make a circle. She would have music and jollity and congratulations. John de- 227 ib i m h ! MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME served it, and it should be a good deal of a sur- prise, for she would bloom out suddenly as the Lady of the Manor and astonish him with her good cheer. John meanwhile had confided to Mr. Braddock his dilemma with regard to the cat, and Mr. Brad- dock had kindly consented to pull him out by sending up a sister of Medusa's and holding his tongue. When Thanksgiving arrived it brought with it late in the afternoon the Braddock establishment, consisting of the lawyer himself, May Braddock, and Sprague, and, to the astonishment of Lucy, Holcomb bringing up the rear with a banjo. In the evening they were joined by Pop Swr-thout and his wife. Sprague had to be shown every detail of the improvements. Lucy's particularity was tireless, and at each surprise Sprague exclaimed " Lovely ! " and then consulted with May Brad- dock. Finally Lucy said as she surveyed the group : « Now, Tilka, light the fire. Where is John ? " Nobody seemed to know where he was at that moment, and Holcomb, always alert, exclaimed, "I'll find him." He discovered the host in the kitchen looking at a thermometer. "Holcomb," he said somewhat solemnly, "have they lit that fire ? " " Your girl is lighting it now," replied Hol- comb. " She says she will make it so hot as you never saw." " I suppose she will. She's a determined girl, 228 I' i WINTER'S WARNINGS Holcomb, and the thermometer is sixty-five out- doors. You see we made our arrangements for a cold night. I'm afraid there's such a thing as overdoing it, when one sets out to make it warm for his friends. Lucy has set her mind on hot mulled cider. Think of that, my boy. And old Pop Swarthout will have to stand over that hickory blaze." " Well, come on in. I can sing my new song before the flames overtake us. It's a Jim-dandy, and I'll defy anybody that isn't a Dutchman to tell what it's about. That's the beauty of it." Lucy and John many times after recalled that Thanksgiving evening, and recounted it to them- selves with tears of mirth. But at the time it was anything but laughable. Tilka succeeded in get- ting the temperature up nearly to a hundred, and as Pop Swarthout had taken his coat off, Holcomb asked permission lo follow suit before he sat down to the piano. Sprague suggested with a blush as he mopped his face, that it might be a good idea to open one of the windows, and John said to himself, " Great heavens, they are double and screwed in." Lucy was undaunted. She saw her hickory logs blazing, and a reflected light of triumph danced in her eyes. " It's so colonial, isn't it?" she said to Mr. Braddock. "Yes," said Mr. Braddock, putting his hand over his mouth, " it reminds me of the times that tried men's souls." " If you stand back here, Pa," said May Brau- 229 l ill Hr MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME dock, " near the open door, you will not suffer so much." "Shall I begin?" asked Holcomb. " Wait a moment," said Lucy. " Ma has gone to get a fan." " This song," said Holcomb in an explanatory way, as he mopped his face, " was specially pre- pared for this occasion, and I call it * The Red, Red Clover.' It is supposed to be addressed by a girl, who is in love, to a little bird. I need not tell you who the little girl is." And then Holcomb began to sing: — •' O, sweet little bird I have often heard That to lovers you've something to tell ; But you never could guess What my tongue would express As you flit over valley and dell. " My secret is this — And I throw you a kiss. My beautiful little blue gnome. Sail round and sail over The red, red clover. For Johnny is coming home. " O, sweet little heart. As you flutter and start, I will tell you my secret to-day. Because you will sing it Wherever you wing :c. For that is a little bird's way. *• So don't you forget. You sweet little pet. As you skim over forest and foam. 230 i h WINTER'S WARNINGS Sail round and sail over The red, red clover. For Johnny is coming home. " O, dear little bird. Perhaps you have heard Why the skies are so blue overhead ? And the willow trees smg. By the bank of the spring. When the blossoms and berries are red. ** If not, you shall hear My fluttering dear. From the air and the woods and the foam. Sail round and sail over The red, red clover. For Johnny is commg home." During the singing of this song Mr. Braddock and Pop Swarthout had backed out into the ad- joining room, as if gently pushed by the heat, and John found them there in comparative com- fort, at the dining table, discussing the road mas- ters and roads, with that indifference to the passing trivialities of music which only such veterans can command. Thus the little party fell apart into its natural elements, and while Lucy and May Brad- dock, with the assistance of Holcomb and Sprague, struggled between the fireplace and the piano with might and main to preserve the soft blandishments of social life. Pop Swarthout and Mr. Braddock settled easily to hard-pan. "There's more fuss," said the former, "made about the roads in the newspapers and in the towns than there is any need for. People what 231 ' ii i I MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME live in cities want everything paved. I hear they are puttin* square stones in their halls. And as fer their streets, it allers seemed to me that they buried everything they wanted under 'em and was always diggin' it out. I calculate that when a man gives most of his time to the roads, his fields is goin' to suffer." " Yes," said Mr. Braddock, as he looked at John, "the fields always do. The farmers take all their soil off the fields and pile it on the roads. I don't see why they don't plant their potatoes in the highway where the loam is." "A hard road," said Mr. Swarthout, "will rack a wagon to pieces a great deal quicker nor a soft one, and I guess if this county was macadamized, our horses would be about as foot-sore as the animals in the city. A little mud is good for a horse's hoofs." Mr. Braddock looked at John. "When you are in Rome, you must do as Romans do," he said. " They were great road builders." It was very plain that Mr. Swarthout was be- yond the reach of Mr. Braddock's irony. He merely said : " I d'know nothin' 'bout Rome, but I've been drivin' over these roads sixty odd year, and I guess I ain't much the worst for it. The folks who come up here with new ideas never stay long enough to carry 'em out." " Perhaps they would stay longer if the roads were better," observed John. "Yes," said Pop, with the true bucolic wit, "mebbe that's a pretty good argyment for not makin' 'em any better." 232 14! WINTER'S WARNINGS Mr. Braddock put the back of his hand to his mouth to suppress his admiration of this sally, and said : « Men from the city lack the true agn- cultural instinct, and generally start in by trying to make boulevards. Our road system, Mr. Dennison, is like a taste for buttermilk, one of our youthful acquirements. You see we turn out once a year with our teams and work out our road taxes. It's quite primitive and beautiful. If we let the roads alone, the rains would wash all the soft soil off and leave the red hardpan smooth and solid. So we turn in and pull the sod down on them and give them a mulching of good vege- table mud. It saves wagons. I've always no- ticed that city men, who like to have pretty much everything soft, curiously enough like their drinks and their roads hard. I suppose it's the result of the commercial spirit." What Pop Swarthout would have said to this IS not known, for at that moment Lucy appeared at the door with a red face, fanning herself with a sheet of music. " Where do you suppose Ma and Mrs. Swart- hout are ? " she asked, trying to look a little anxious. Mr. Braddock's hand went up to his mouth. " They're not upstairs," continued Lucy. " I've looked everywhere. They couldn't have gone up the stairs." " Did you look up the chimney ? " asked Mr. Braddock. Lucy rushed to the open door and looked out ^33 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME into the starlit night. " Ma," she called, ad- dressing the outdoors generally, " you will catch your death of cold. What are you thinking about?" Then she listened. " I hear them," she said excitedly. " Heavens, they are in the cellar," and Holcomb, who was looking on from the sit- ting-room, exclaimed : " Happy thought. Let's all go in the cellar." Lucy snatched up a lamp, and followed by the nimble Holcomb, went carefully down the narrow stairway, and when halfway down she saw her mother and Mrs. Swarthout standing before the store of preserves and pickles, spectacled, and with their heads close together in what was very much like an attitude of silent adoration. A sudden sense of the incongruity of her social elements made her sit down helplessly on the bottom step, and give way to a little hysterical gulp as she hid her face in her hands. Holcomb, who was behind her, immediately imitated her, saying: " Now this is fine. Wait till I bring the rest of them down." But Lucy ignored him entirely, and succeeded in rescuing the two old ladies. When they re- turned to the floor above, they encountered an unusual scene. Tilka and Mart were issuing from the sitting-room carrying between them, on a spade and a pitchfork, one of the blazing and sputtering logs from the new fireplace. It poured forth volumes of protesting smoke as it passed ignominiously to the back door to be cast forth, 234 WINTER'S WARNINGS Tillca exclaiming with reassuring triumph, " I fix nim, 1 fix him." But the fireplace having at last been suppressed, thmgs fell mto a more comfortable shape, and Lucy s excitement went off into a milder path as she spread out a repast for her guests, and re- solved to let the chasms between them bridge themselves as best they might over the hospitable board. As she looked in upon them from the kitchen, where she was assisting Tilka and saw them separated m couples, she wished that she had some kmd of convivial and allowable beverage to melt them together. While she stood there Mr. Braddock came softly into the kitchen, closing the door behind him and looking as if he had something like sym- pathy to impart. « Mrs. Dennison," he said in a soft voice, usir- the back of his hand to mod- erate his good intentions, « I was going to suggest to you, as I know the customs of the country better than you do, that the proper thing to do would be to bring in a stone fence." She looked up at him with all her old doubts ot his sanity returning. ^ "Mr. Braddock," she said, "you go right back in the other room and talk to John. I'll attend to the supper." ' "Just so," replied Mr. Braddock. "I only fence " ?nli^ "'" '° ^^ ^°J 'J'' ^'"^' °^ ^"'^^'"^ "'V f°^^* '^at a «« stone home ml t ^""^'="'" /''^ ^^o^^Iand County and New Jersey, stands for a .wTd int^c dT l"^ "*'' "' '"?' '""""'^y '° the'fact that applejack «cT. the hlrd^l A/" '".^- " •"'"■? shandygaff that to the rural imagination recalls tue Hardness of a prehistonc pile of rocks. 2JJ i% iH D) kI^ MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME wanted to ofTer a suggestion. It seemed to me that as you began the evening with the 'Red, Red Clover,' you might appropriately close it in with a stone fence. Of course I refer to the prep- aration of the cider. If you will let me fix it, I think I can add to the merrymaking." "Oh," said Lucy, "if you will fix the cider I •hall be very glad." " I see you have a bottle of applejack on the shelf, doubtless from Mr. Swarthout's cellar. If you will give me a large bowl and some sugar — " "You will make a punch. How clever of you." " Just the ordinary stone fence. A stone fence bears the same relation to rural festivities that the bean bag does to religion." Lucy looked at him sidewise as she held the bowl out at arm's length. "Yes," she said, as one humours a maniac. " Of course, religion and bean bags — why, certainly." " Perhaps I do not make myself quite plain," said Mr. Braddock. "The bean bag takes the hard edge off religious acerbity. The elders of our church and the Mothers of Israel meet once a week and throw it, thankfully. It is quite human- izing with jelly cake. Where have you the cider? Ah, yes, in the cellar of course." The rejpast offered many surprises to Lucy. The old folks looked at it askance. A Welsh rabbit was not unlike a new order of exterminat- ing bug come into the pasture, and the avidity with which the young persons disposed of it drew 236 WINTERS WARNINGS from Mr. Swarthout the remark that it would make a very good noonin' meal, but at that time of night he wouldn't risk nothin* heavier than a hunk of pie or doughnut. But he took to the stone fence with quiet satis- faction that brought Mr. Braddock's hand up to its usual suppressive work. " That's pretty good cider, Pop. I don't think you've ffot any just like it." " ^yeTI, I don't know," replied Mr. Swarthout. " I kinda think I recognize my south orchard, and as fer the flavorin', I guess that's my ten- year-old stuff." " He knows his own goods," said John. " Mr. Braddock is not an inventor, he's only a restorer. He brings things back to their original owners. He brought our cat back after she'd been gone a month, eh, mother .? " "Yes," said mother, "but I think he might have restored the white toe on her hind leg to the front leg, where it was before." Then John looked quite stupid for a moment, and Mr. Braddock worked the back of his hand so hard that he attracted everybody's attention. When he tried to change the subject by asking John if he intended to plant some clem-at-is vines on his bay, the sharp voice of May Braddock broke in on them : — « Clem-a-tis, Pa." But in spite of everything, the little party as it grew informal grew more cheerful. The stone fence melted away some of Pop Swarthout's in- 237 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME durated prejudices, and later in the evening he "allowed " that, although he was not much of a singer, he calculated that he could give them a stave of " Gayly the Troubadour," providin' they cared for real music, and it was with some diffi- culty that Mrs. Swarthout and Mr. Braddock suppressed him when the party broke up, par- ticularly as Mr. Braddock had to suppress him- self. Pop said that he didn't go heavy on " SaiHn' over the Clover" that time of year, and red clover was a pretty windy forage anyway. And so Lucy's endeavour to introduce the amen- ities of social life passed off, with what to her seemed to have many ludicrous failures. But it had knit some ties of which she was not aware. The sight of her mother's store of preserves had awakened a new respect in Mrs. Swarthout's breast, and the two lames established a new reciprocity, that declared itself in their standing at their re- spective stone walls when the weather was fine and shriekinff their intimacy across fields to each other. When the Christmas timeapproached the veather came on bitter cold for a week, and Lucy settled down before her fire one Sunday morning with a letter in her hand, and looking from it into the blaze and then at the bay window past which the flakes were scurrying, she began to experience some of the delights of a safe retreat, and the added comfort of a real mistress at her own hear hst >ne. She was dressed in a warm wrapper, and cc ulc not sufficiently admire the manner in which her wood- fire was redeeming its reputation. Mart had rc- 238 WINTERS WARNINGS ported that the thermometer had been down below zero all night, and the reaches of the river were frozen over. Presentl]^ John came in slapping his hands and looking quite ruddy, for he had been out in the wind. " Well, sweetheart," he said, " this looks com- fortable, and you seem to be enjoying it." " I've ^ot a letter from Kate, she said. " Let me read it to you." " Fire away," he said, " but I don't believe it will add to our comfort." " Yes it will," she said. " Listen : — "' Mv DEAR Lucv : I supposed of course that you were ri the city for the winter and that I should hear from you sooner or later, but Wes met John and learned that you had not come in. What a poor little iamb you are, aren't you ? I suppose John told you we are boarding now in Washington Square; two rooms and no responsi- bility. We tried light housekeeping in a furnished flat after we gave up the Cramp house, but it was almost as much bother as housekeeping. Cramp turned out to be no better than he should be. 1 suppose John has told you about him. He let them sue me for the furniture, and I was up on supplementary proceedings just like an actress. It was real fun while it lasted, and 1 got into all the papers. I don't know how long we shall stay here, for Wes wants to go to a hotel, and I sup- pose that is the only ' '-v^p amVow. One MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME can't hang herself up in a wardrobe like last year's frock, or bury herself before she dies in the coun- try. I don't suppose you get about much now — how are you, anyway ? Does John treat you any better than he did ? If you are coming down to do any shopping for Christmas, let me know. I can put you up to a great trick in woollens. So run m. Kiss Harold for me. "* Yours, "*Kate."' She laid the letter on the little table indifferently and looked in the fire. John was disinclined to make any comment. He perceived that Lucy felt that she was slowly losing an old friend, and that regrets would be useless. So he stretched out his legs and waived away the whole matter by saying: "Not a pipe frozen, mv dear. I have been examming them, and there's eight inches of ice at the foot of the hill. Mart is going to make an ice- house of those boards that we took off this floor." " I was thinking," said Lucy, " how lively and festive the stores must be in the city now, as Christ- mas approaches, and everybody is preparing for it. One misses in the country the close contact of humanity at such times." " You are thinking of cornucopias and caramels," said John. « I don't blame you. Perhaps vou would like to go to a hotel for a while and hug'the steam-pipes." "Oh, I am comfortable, John, very. I can do my hugging better here." 240 .WINTER'S WARNINGS (( (( ' Are you quite sure ? " ' Quite sure. Aren't you ? " Well, sometimes I have thought that the game was not worth the candle." " You're afraid that when the wind blows from the northeast, it will blow the candle out. But it can't blow this fire out, John. The harder the wmd blows the more defiantly the fire snaps and roars." He got up, and going to the bay window, stood with his back to her, looking out. The wind Was driving the fine flakes almost horizontally past. The cedars were bending under the pressure. Southward there were bleak stretches of whitening fields. It was very still inside. He could hear the ticking of the clock in the dining room. "I suppose," he said, "the city cars will all be blocked to-morrow. What's the matter with Harold ? " " He is rejoicing over the snow-storm," said Lucy. " You don't appear to see how jolly it is " "I was thinking," John said, "that there will be three more months of it." " And then ? " asked Lucy. " Then — oh, then, the spring I suppose. But it's a long stretch." ^ ^ t-f Lucy got up, and coming to the window, let ner head drop on his shoulder. "But John," she said, "it's the home stretch." He put his arm about her. « Do you reallv think so ? " ^ " I am sure of it. You are trying to be blue, 241 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME and everything is as pure and white as a flag of truce. I don t think you ought to look at the snow if it affects you that way. Listen." She went to the piano, and softly touching it, began to hum the refrain of Holcomb's song : — << Sail round and sail over The red, red clover. For Johnny is commg home." He threw himself in a chair. " It's all my dear, but we have deprived ourselves ol chance of doing any li^ht housekeeping or taking furnished rooms or going to a hotel." right, of^all 242 CHAPTER XII CONCLUSION SOME months have elapsed. The making of a country home has been beset with dis- couragements and difficulties. The winter came with its storms, and shut all the improve- ments mdoors. Mr. Ridabok's hammer has not ceased m all that time. Inch bv inch the inte- rior of the home has assumed airs' of comfort and security. One morning in late April Lucy Dennison sat before her new fireplace. Harold stood beside her. She had a roll of something in her arms. The wood fire smouldered, but the sunlight cane at intervals through the bay window as the sp ^ng winds shifted the clouds, occasionally giving a long-drawn sigh. « u ^ ^"°T ^^^ ^P""S ^^^ come," said Harold, because the skunk cabbages are all green, and the robins are back, and the maple sugar is come 243 K«nL. ;«bL:^, MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME at the store, and Mart said he was going to plough because the frost is all out of the ground." His mother got up softly and deposited her bundle on a couch in the corner, pulling the screen around to protect it from possible draught. She stood there looking at it with meditative triumph when John came in softly, and putting his arm about her, joined in the contemplation. "She is going to look like you," he said. "That is some comfort. She seems to have arrived with the spring. We ought to call her Violet." " The violets haven't come yet," said Harold ; " only the skunk cabbages." " Well, it has been a long and dreary winter to you, my dear," said John. " But nobody thinks of the winter when spring arrives," replied Lucy. " I hope we shall not get any late frosts. I suppose you have heard ofwinter lingering in the lap of spring." Lucy got up, and taking the sleeping bundle off the couch, put it in her husband's arms. "Let us try and think of spring lingering in the lap ofwinter," she said, — "and speak softly." Then she poked the logs, and sitting down again, said :" What a lucky thing it was for us that I did come back with you when you got that telegram from Kate saying I was sick. Now that I think of it all, it looks as if it was providential that I went to the city with Wes and his wife, and tried to be as gay as I could." 244 CONCLUSION John was walking up and down with his bundle. " I thought at the time," he said, "that it would have been more providential to have stayed home and helped me out." " I didn't know enough, John. You have always given me credit for knowing a great deal more than I really do. I had to learn a very important lesson." John put the baby back on the couch, and said carelessly : « Well, if you learned it, it's all right. Don't let's talk about it. We have both learned a good many lessons, and I think we've won our fight. At all events we have got a home over our heads, and you are not only the mother of a family, but the mistress of the best house on this road, if Ridabok and I do say it." " But, John, I never could have appreciated it if I had not learned what it was to be without a home, and Kate Ellis » ever ceased to instil that lesson into me. I discovered that there are some women who are incapable of understanding what a home means. We all get the credit of being born domestic. But the best of us, I guess, have to learn it like our other lessons. I must have been a dreadfully giddy thing when you first married me." "Oh, but think of me. What a dull, mechan- ical, methodical chump I must have been to a lively girl." 2 So you were, but it is that has saved us." " I think you are giving me too much credit. The rest of the family is entitled to some of it — MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME that bundle, for example," and he pointed to the couch. " I knew you would come out all right if you stayed with Kate long enough. Almost anybody would unless he married her." "Poor Kate," said Lucy. "She is living in furnished apartments now." " And her husband is travelling all the time," added John. " He has got to be a second-class drummer." "He isn't travelling now. He is home and sick." " Oh, you have heard from them .? " " Indirectly. Sprague got a letter from Hol- comb. I shouldn't wonder if they were hard up." " No," said John, carelessly, as he went to the window and looked out, " I don't think anybody would wonder at that who knew them." "John, I have a great mind to ask them up on a visit. I thought that as Kate taught me a lesson, I might teach her one." " Don't," said John. « She doesn't like chil- dren, and it would only interfere with the work." " But the work is all done. The bathroom is finished, isn't it ? " "Yes — finished this morning." " And the wainscoting in the new dining room is dry ? " " Dry as a bone," said John. "Well, then, we ought to have dinner in it, and show it off. You are the strangest man I ever saw. You go on working day after day, and finishing up everything in fine style, and never 246 CONCLUSION want to show it off. I have never entertained Kate properly in my life. I should just like to know what she would say to that cherub." " I know what she will say. She will chuck it under the chin and say it looks like me, which is a lie, and then she will ask you if you have any ice." "And I will have it — from our own ice-house, and I will heap it on her head as if it were coals of fire. Just think how Tilka will look in a white cap and apron — waiting. I'm just dying to say, * Tilka, you may bring from the cellar a bottle of that old Burgundy; I think Mrs. Ellis prefers Burgundy.' We can have a bottle of old Bur- gundy in the cellar, John, can't we ? " " Of course we can, if your mother has left any room in the cellar." " Then, John, what can be more withering if the weather is fine than to say, * My dear, we are in the habit of driving in the afternoons. Do you care to have the team up ? ' I just want to avail myself of my privileges and ask Kate how the gas collector is and the janitor, and if the man on the floor below plays the cornet yet, and find out if the restaurant bills are as big as ever." " My dear, you wish to exercise your fiendish propensity to triumph over the unfortunate." " But she said that I would get sick of it before the winter was over, and that you were making a dairy maid of me. It's only justice to you to have her up. I really want her to meet Mrs. Swarthout." 247 ■^i MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME " Perhaps Mrs. Swarthout would like to take her to board — then you could run over and see her without having your pillow-slips all burned by cigarettes." Notwithstanding this conversation Lucy did not invite her old friend. The truth is that both John and his wife were so occupied with their growing possessions that they forgot all about their former acquaintances who were now moving in a world as far as possible from the practical round of country experiences. But it so happened that without any intention on the part of the Dennisons, the old friends came together once more for the last time, and the meeting resulted in a way that none of them could have anticipated, and only served to show that it is character that makes environment, and not as so many of us suppose, environment that makes character. Late in the summer Sprague and May Brad- dock were married, and John had been the best man, Holcomb being somewhere in the West with a comic opera company. It was a very quiet affair in the village church, Mr. Braddock giving away the bride with the back of his hand to his mouth to suppress his sense of humour, and then the couple went off somewhere for a fortnight. While they were gone John obtained an option from Pop Swarthout on five adjoining acres for a thousand dollars, and when Sprague came back full of a building scheme and desiring to put up a house next to his friend, John sold him the piece of land for fifteen hundred dollars. Afterwards, when • 248 CONCLUSION John paid off his mortgage with the profit, Pop Swarthout put his hand on his shoulder and said : — " Young man, I don't often miss my calkerla- tions, but when I do I don't hesitate to own up. You fooled me. I figgered you was like the rest of 'em and was goin' off half cocked. I guess I was a dumeormed old turtle, but you ken hev any ten acres I ve got for the same fieger. I say that to show my respect for your business talents." It was Sprague, however, who alone brought to the estimation of John's work an artist's keen relish. He invariably looked upon the improve- ment as if it were the painting of a picture, and was never tired of telling his wife what an extraor- dinary fellow John was in his plodding way. " Look at that front garden of his,' he would say. " It is really the prettiest plot on the road. Stran- gers ask whose French villa that is in the Italian garden, and there isn't a French or Italian thing about it. Everything in his garden he and his wife picked up in the woods. Instead of buying exotics, he just took the wild azaleas, the bitter- sweet, the clematis, and the sweet brier, and stuck those cedars and white birches in by instinct. He makes me ashamed of my profession when I look at his lawns, and I always want to go in and roll under his trees. And the beauty of it all is that the thing keeps slowly growing without any anx- iety or clatter or parade. Now he is going to build an addition out of the rest of his stone fence — library and billiard room, I believe." 249 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME John was in the habit of speaking lightly of his achievements. "There was considerably more luck than genius about it," he said to Sprague. " I stumbled on the right kind of a woman to begin with." " Stumbled is lovely," said Sprasue. " Did it ever occur to you that she stumbled, too ? " "Then, I stumbled on good servants," con- tinued John. " In nine cases out of ten it's the servants that plav the deuce with country living. Having got my nand in as it were, I then stum- bled over an exceptionally docile carpenter, who could wait a week or two for his wages if I was pinched, and finally I stumbled on two or three stanch friends up here that played the band for me while I worked." Sprague said this would not do. " I've been studying this thing," he said, " and I've seen sev- eral city folks come up here with good servants and good workmen and good friends, and they fenerally made a botch of it in a year or two. leaps of money sunk in landscape gardening, hot-houses, city servants, equipages, fancy fowls and dog kennels, roadsters, and a general attempt to bring the city into the country. At the end of a year they complained of miasm, mosquitoes, and bad soil, and dearth of society. Then they sold out at a sacrifice, and hurried back where there was Opera or electric cars. It's the old story, Dennison, there's no art or satisfaction in Nature, — you have to bring those things with you, and most of the people who try the rustic 250 CONCLUSION business ought to stay in the suburbs, where they can keep one hand on the telephone and the other on an intelhgencc office." " The fact is, Sprague, I didn't have money enough to make any mistakes with. That was another piece of luck. And — I was stubborn enough to believe in myself. You are about the only man who could see what I intended to do before I did it, and I haven't done anything that any plodder cannot do. The real reason why more men do not do it is not because they are not ab e, but because they are not willing. They don t like the life. Now, it occurs to me that you and I ought to make our own society. We shall get two or three more of our own kind around us in time, and that will be all the society we want. ' " You knew how to go to work." " Well, you would think that any man of good sense would know how — but he doesn't, f can sell my house for five thousand dollars. It's insured for that. I'll tell you why. It's the only house on this road of moderate price that has a complete water system. Visitors are amazed to hnd hot and cold water faucets in my bathroom and a proper system of drainage. But it's the ..implest thing in the world when you have a res- ervoir. Enterprise is far more bewildering to these people than capital. They are all small capitalists, and they seem to think they never would be if they displayed any enterprise. Look at that high- way. It ought to be macadamized. It would 251 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME improve the property immensely. Do you know what it would cost the township to grade it up and gravel it for two miles ? " " More than the township will pay." " I think I would take the contract for five thousand dollars. I can buy a stone crusher for fifteen hundred, and I'd put three men at it for a year." " We'll have to make you supervisor of the county," said Sprague. But Johu was not ambitious, and he said he didn't aim at anything higher than roadmaster. Perhaps Lucy would not have known how far she had drifted from her former city habits and tastes if it had not been for her unexpected meet- ing with Kate Ellis. In obedience to the doctor's advice to take Wes away from the city and his acquaintances for a month or two, and after find- ing that her resources were insufficient to pay the bills, Kate consulted with Holcomb, and that chip- per young gentleman immediately said : " What's the matter with your old friends — the Dennisons ? Is there anybody farther from the madding crowd than they are ? Is there anybody that needs the freshening and joyousness of your presence as they do?" " Yes," said Kate, " it's all very well for me, but consider Wes." " You write and ask her if she knows of a good quiet desolate farmhouse, and — a box of gloves she'll invite you up. If you say so, I'll go up myself and fix it. Sprague must be aching for me 252 CONCLUSION by this time. Do you remember how Dennison's wife used to sing my songs ? " " She has two children now," said Kate. This sounded as if it were final with respect to Lucy's music. But the upshot of it was that Holcomb went off to the country to reconnoitre, and having reported that everything was all right, Kate herseK v^ent up to make a call on Lucy Dennison. The instant the women came together, it was plain to both of them that conventional endear- ments could not quite bridge the gap that had grown between them. But this fact only made them dispense the endearments more recklessly. Kate kissed her old friend and called her dear, but she was conscious of a little effort in it. Lucy thought for the first time that Kate was too pro- nouncedly dressed. The flaring hat seemed slightly boisterous, and she thought Kate might have wiped ?.cmc of the powder oft her face. *.-ii\ the other hand, Kate noticed a sober, •iiitrv nly air in her former associate that she ■hui i^ht was meant to be slightly superior. " i am so glad I found you," she said. " Wes and I are looking for a quiet rural home where we can rest for a few days. He is mentally run down, and the doctor says he must not think for a month." "How nice," replied Lucy. "I shouldn't wonder if Farmer Van Kleek's over on the Nyack pike would just suit you. He is three miles from the nearest house, and that's a tan- ^S3 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME nery. If I were you, I'd write and inquire about it." This friendly interest stirred something in Kate very like viciousness, but she did not betray it. " How nicely you are fixed," she said. " Is this the same house that I came to see you in before? What have you done to it?" " Finished it," replied Lucy. " If you'll stay to lunch, I'll tell Tilka to get you up something. It's too bad, but Mrs. Sprague and I are going to the County Fair at one o'clock, and I can't get out of it. You know we are exhibiting there." "I'll just write that name of the farmer down," said Kate. "What did you say it was — Van Kleek — on the what?" " On the Nyack pike." " What's the pike ? — a river, 1 suppose — I like rivers, and pike makes an excellent dish served with mayonnaise." "Dear me, no. It's the road — the turnpike. Then you will not stay ? " " To lunch ? Oh, no, I can't. I just wanted to take a look at you. How you have changed ! " " Yes, it's dreadful. I'm getting so stout. But you keep your figure beautifully. Shall I show you the house? — you'll be delighted with our salon dining room. It will seat twenty people at table." " You don't know of anybody nearer than the pike, do you, who would accommodate us ? " " I can make inquiries for you. What is your city address ? " 254 CONCLUSION Kate got up, walked to the window, and bit her lip. What was it had given this salesman's wife such a complacent air of independence? Kate was piqued, and was coming perilously near to retaliation. So she smiled, and looked unusually amiable as she said: — "I suppose you have your hands full. What with churning and weeding and nursing, you don't get much time for social duties." Lucy smiled with an equal amiability. " That's just it, dear," she said. " If it wasn't for people coming in all the time unexpectedly, I'd get a great deal more done. Let me show you the baby before you go." As Kate took the prize Dennison bundle in her arms, and patted its cheek with her gloved hands, she said : " What a little beauty ! Where are the other children ? Oh, they are working, I suppose — and you, you little busy bee," — tap- ping the bundle with her finger, — "I suppose you are going to learn how to make butter and apple sauce and rag carpet." " There's only one other," said Lucy — " Har- old. I think we'll send this one to Bryn Mawr." "And Harold — he will go to West Point, I suppose." " Harold is to be a civil engineer — he is to be educated for it, his father says." " How sweet. I wish there was a school where our sex could be educated to be civil somethincs. don't you ? " *^ " Yes, dear, but it's so much harder to educate MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME our sex. They never take things seriously until they have a family." " And that doesn't always make our sex as considerate as it ought to be." "It will be too bad if you do not find the quiet place you are in search of," said Lucy. "My dear," Kate retorted, ** you know very well that I detest quiet. It is on Wesley's ac- count that I am anxious. I thifik a month up here would kill me. It's all very beautiful, but I must have my bath, you know, and telephone, and I never could eat country fare. Besides, dear, I've always held that country life narrows the taste, and is apt to make one illiberal — don't you find it so ? " " Yes, I suppose it does," Lucy replied, " but it doesn't narrow one's person — that's the worst of it. If one is to keep her figure, I suppose it is absolutely necessary to have worries and uncertain- ties and disappointments. Sometimes I feel that I shall get horribly fat just because there aren't any." " But, my dear, ,if you do get preposterously fleshy, you can exhibit yourself at the County Fair. They offer prizes, don't they, for such things ? — but perhaps it's only pigs, not persons. I don't know much about it. I used to read about it when I was a girl. Good people in the country always died in a pot of grease — or per- haps it was butter." " Yes, indeed. We thought those were fairy tales, but the people up hw.-e are doing it yet. It's all true." 256 J:' CONCLUSION you seen Holcomb lately ? " asked " Have Kate. " No. He was up here and called, but I did not see him. I was just going out to drive with the children and Mrs. Swarthout, and he would have been very apt to sing one of his songs before the children." " Heavens," said Kate, " what a narrow escape for the darlings ! " When Kate returned to the city, she left her amiability in instalments at every station she passed, and when she reached Wes, she was in an undisguised state of indignation. " They have grown to be a set of rustic prigs," she said. " Don't talk to me any more about the Dennisons. Lucy has got to be as unbear- able as her husband, but I can tell you one thing, she has got a home over her head — which I haven't, and I suppose she is entitled to be stuck up. I guess we will have to go our own gait — it isn't theirs." " Well, my dear, it has been a pretty frisky gait — what we've had of it." " And what have we got to show for it? " " Oh, say, you've been struck by the land scheme." " No, I haven't. I've been struck by a woman who has her own home, and is too indepeiident to be bearable." " And if you had a home, you'd pawn it the first rainy day. But if you think we ought to go in for reality — what's the matter with buying a 257 MAKING OF A COUNTRY HOME nice sunny plot at Greenwood Cemetery ? I don't believe they will let us keep a cow there, but we might compromise on a goat, and, anyway, you can plant flowers and things, and always feel that you've got something snug." After this the Dennisons and the Ellises never again met. John did hear that Wesley said of him that he was a wasted hayseed. That rather pleased John, and occasionally when he went to the Astor House Rotunda, he put a wisp of timothy in his mouth, and rather ostentatiously dumgormed the oyster pate if it didn't suit him. But Sprague and a few other persons got *o calling him Supervisor, and whether that is -a oflicial title or only another of the rural pleasant- ries, I am blessed if I know. 258 im iM iufw'iupwii I swiiinwwi^ ii( IV V. !ii m ^Amgi 8tP**"PTWffiHfHiiniiMiiBnminiini