HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 F. N. WESTCOTT 
 
L/*" 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 
 
"YOU HAVEN T SEEN ANYTHING THAT LOOKED LIKE A PARSON, HAVE 
 YOU? YOU CAN GENERALLY SPOT *EM EVERY TIME." 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 BY 
 
 FRANK N. WESTCOTT 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY 
 FREDERICK R. GRUGER 
 
 New York 
 THE H. K. FLY COMPANY 
 
 Publishers 
 
Copyright, 1915, by 
 THE H. K. FLY COMPANY. 
 
 Copyright, 1915, by 
 THE RED BOOK CORPORATION. 
 
 Copyright, 1914, by 
 THE RED BOOK CORPORATION. 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 CHAPTER. PAGE. 
 
 I HEPSEY BURKE 1 1 
 
 II GOSSIP 25 
 
 III THE SENIOR WARDEN 36 
 
 IV MILKING 52 
 
 V THE MINIATURE 59 
 
 VI THE MISSIONARY TEA 71 
 
 VII HEPSEY GOES A-FisniNG 85 
 
 VIII AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 96 
 
 IX THE RECTORY 1 1 1 
 
 X THE BRIDE S ARRIVAL 122 
 
 XI VIRGINIA S HIGH HORSE 130 
 
 XII HOUSE CLEANING AND BACHELOR 
 HOOD 137 
 
 XIII THE CIRCUS 147 
 
 XIV ON THE SIDE PORCH 160 
 
 XV NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 170 
 
 XVI PRACTICAL TEMPERANCE REFORM... 1 86 
 
 XVII NOTICE TO QUIT 200 
 
 2075336 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 XVIII THE NEW RECTORY 212 
 
 XIX COULEUR DE ROSE 224 
 
 XX MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 238 
 
 XXI UNINVITED GUESTS 253 
 
 XXII HEPSEY S DIPLOMACY 271 
 
 XXIII HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 283 
 
 XXIV OMNIUM GATHERUM 308 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "You haven t seen anything that looked like a 
 parson, have you? You can generally 
 spot em every time" Frontispiece 
 
 "I m blessed if you aint sewin white buttons 
 on with black thread. Is anybody dead in 
 the family, or aint you feelin well this 
 mornin ?" 62 
 
 "Nicholas Burke, what in the name of con 
 science does all this idiotic performance 
 mean, I d like to know?" 8 1 
 
 "Oh well, I always believe that two young mar 
 ried people should start out by them 
 selves; and then if they get into a family 
 row it wont scandalize the parish" 127 
 
 "I aint a chicken no more, Mrs. Betty, and 
 I ve most forgot how to do a bit of 
 courtin " 141 
 
 "I consider it a shame and a disgrace to the 
 parish to have our rector in filthy clothes, 
 drawing stone with a lot of ruffians" .... 249 
 
 "I ve got a hunch, Sylvester Bascom, that it ll 
 be you that ll have the last word, after 
 all" 280 
 
 "Hepsey Burke, for all your molasses and the 
 little bit of vinegar you say you keep by 
 you, there are no flies on you, as Nickey 
 would put it" 39 
 
THE noisy, loose-jointed train pulled out of the 
 station, leaving behind it a solitary young 
 man, enveloped in smoke and cinders. In the 
 middle of the platform stood a little building with a 
 curb roof, pointed at both ends like a Noah s Ark; 
 and the visitor felt that if he could only manage to 
 lift up one side of the roof he would find the animals 
 "two by two," together with the cylindrical Noah 
 and the rest of his family. There was no one in 
 sight but the station-master, who called out from the 
 ticket office : 
 
12 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Did you want to go to the village? The bus 
 wont be down till the next train : but maybe you can 
 ride up on the ice wagon." 
 
 "Thanks," the stranger replied. "I think I ll wait 
 for the bus, if it s not too long." 
 
 "Twenty minutes or so, if Sam don t have to collect 
 the passengers goin West, and wait for a lot o 
 women that forget their handbags and have to get 
 out and go back after em." 
 
 The new arrival was good to look at a handsome, 
 well-built fellow of about twenty-five, dressed in a 
 gray suit which was non-committal as to his profes 
 sion, with a clean-shaven face which bore the unmis 
 takable stamp of good breeding and unlimited good 
 nature. He tilted his suit-case on end and sat down 
 on it; then he filled his briar pipe, crossed his legs, 
 and looked about to take stock of the situation. He 
 gazed about curiously; but there was nothing of any 
 special interest in sight, except, painfully conspicu 
 ous on the face of a grass terrace, the name of the 
 village picked out in large letters composed of oyster- 
 shells and the bottoms of protruding beer bottles 
 stuck in the ground. The stranger found himself 
 wondering where a sufficient number of bottles could 
 be found to complete such an elaborate pattern. The 
 only other marked feature of the landscape in the 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 13 
 
 way of artistic decoration was the corrugated base of 
 an old stove, painted white, which served as a flower 
 vase. From this grew a huge bunch of scarlet geran 
 iums, staring defiantly, and seeming fairly to sizzle in 
 the hot, vibrant atmosphere, which was as still as the 
 calm of a moon-lit night. 
 
 As the man on the suit-case gazed about him at the 
 general air of dilapidation and neglect characteristic 
 of a country town on the down grade, and recalled 
 the congenial life of the city which he had left, with 
 all its busy competition, with all its absorbing activi 
 ties, the companionship of the men he loved, and the 
 restful, inspiring intimacy with a certain young 
 woman, he felt, for the moment, a pang of home 
 sickness. If the station were a sample of the village 
 itself, then life in such a place must be deadening to 
 every finer sensibility and ambition; it must throw a 
 man back on himself and make him morbid. 
 
 The momentary depression was relieved by the 
 station-master, who suddenly appeared at the door 
 of the Ark and called out: 
 
 "Here comes Hepsey Burke. Maybe she ll take 
 you up ; that ll be a dum sight more comfortable than 
 Lipkin s bus." 
 
 There was nothing to be seen but a cloud of dust, 
 advancing with the rapidity of a whirlwind along the 
 
14 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 highway, from which there gradually emerged a team 
 and a "democrat," containing a woman, a boy about 
 fourteen, and a middle-aged man. 
 
 As the turn-out drew up, the man took the reins 
 from Mrs. Burke, who jumped out of the wagon 
 with remarkable agility for one of her size and years, 
 and, nodding to the station-master, came on to the 
 platform. 
 
 Hepsey Burke was rather stout; and the lines from 
 her nose to the corners of her mouth, and the wisps 
 of gray hair which had blown about her face, indi 
 cated that she had passed the meridian of life. At 
 first glance there was nothing striking about her ap 
 pearance ; but there was a subtle expression about the 
 mouth, a twinkle about the large gray eyes behind 
 the glasses she wore, that indicated a sense of humor 
 which had probably been a God-send to her. She 
 was strong and well, and carried with her an air of 
 indomitable conviction that things worked themselves 
 out all right in the long run. 
 
 The boy was obviously her son, and in spite of his 
 overalls and frayed straw hat, he was a handsome 
 little chap. He looked at you shyly from under a 
 crop of curly hair, with half closed eyes, giving you 
 the impression that you were being "sized up" by a 
 very discriminating individual; and when he smiled, 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 15 
 
 as he did frequently, he revealed a set of very white 
 and perfect teeth. When he was silent, there was a 
 little lifting of the inner brow which gave him a 
 thoughtful look quite beyond his years ; and you were 
 sadly mistaken if you imagined that you could form 
 a correct impression of Nicholas Burke at the first 
 interview. 
 
 The man wore a sandy beard, but no mustache, and 
 had a downcast, meekly submissive air, probably the 
 depressing effect of many years of severe domestic 
 discipline. 
 
 Mrs. Burke was evidently surprised to find no one 
 there but the man on the suit-case ; but as he rose and 
 lifted his hat, she hesitated a moment, exclaiming: 
 
 "I beg pardon, but I was lookin for a parson who 
 was to arrive on this train. You haven t seen any 
 thing that looked like a parson, have you? You can 
 generally spot em every time." 
 
 The young man smiled. 
 
 "Well, no; I seem to be the only passenger who 
 got off the train; and though I m a clergyman, you 
 don t seem to find it easy to spot me." 
 
 Mrs. Burke, with a characteristic gesture, pulled 
 her glasses forward with a jerk and settled them firm 
 ly back again on the bridge of her nose. She sur 
 veyed the speaker critically as she questioned: 
 
1 6 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "But you don t seem to show the usual symptoms 
 collar buttoned behind, and all that." 
 
 "I am sorry to disappoint you, Madam, but I never 
 travel in clerical uniform. Can t afford it." 
 
 "Well, you ve got more sense than most parsons, 
 if I may say so. Maybe you re the one I m lookin 
 for: Mr. Donald Maxwell." 
 
 "That is my name, and I am sure you must be Mrs. 
 Burke." 
 
 "Sure thing!" shaking his outstretched hand 
 heartily. "Now you come right along with me, Mr. 
 Maxwell, and get into the democrat and make your 
 self comfortable." They walked round to the front 
 of the station. "This, Mr. Maxwell, is Jonathan 
 Jackson, the Junior Warden; and this is my son 
 Nicholas, generally known as Nickey, except when I 
 am about to spank him. Say, Jonathan, you just h ist 
 that trunk into the back of the wagon, and Nickey, 
 you take the parson s suit-case." 
 
 The Junior Warden grinned good-naturedly as he 
 shook hands with the new arrival. But Hepsey con 
 tinued briskly: "Now, Jonathan, you get into the back 
 seat with Nickey, and Mr. Maxwell, you sit with me 
 on the front seat so that I can talk to you. Jonathan 
 means well, but his talk s limited to crops and symp 
 toms, even if he is an old friend, my next door neigh 
 bor, and the Junior Warden." 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 17 
 
 Jonathan obeyed orders; and, as he got into the 
 wagon, winked at Maxwell and remarked: 
 
 "You see we have to take a back seat when Hepsey 
 drives; and we have to hold on with both hands. 
 She s a pacer." 
 
 "Don t you let him frighten you, Mr. Maxwell," 
 Hepsey replied. "Jonathan would probably hold on 
 with both hands if he lay flat on his back in a ten- 
 acre lot. He s just that fearless and enterprisin ." 
 
 Then, starting the horses with a cluck, she turned 
 to Maxwell and continued: 
 
 "I guess I didn t tell you I was glad to see you; 
 but I am. I got your note tellin me when you were 
 comin , but I didn t get down to the station in time, 
 as the men are killin hogs to-day, and until I get the 
 in ards off my hands, I haven t time for anything." 
 
 "I am sorry to have put you to the trouble of com 
 ing at all. I m sure it s very good of you." 
 
 "No trouble; not the least. I generally look after 
 the visitin parsons, and I m quite used to it. You 
 can get used to most anything." 
 
 Maxwell laughed as he responded: 
 
 "You speak as if it weren t always a pleasure, Mrs. 
 Burke." 
 
 "Well, I must admit that there are parsons and par 
 sons. They are pretty much of a lottery, and it is 
 
1 8 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 generally my luck to draw blanks. But don t you 
 worry about that; you don t look a bit like a parson." 
 
 "I think that s a rather doubtful compliment." 
 
 "Oh, well, you know what I mean. There are 
 three kinds of people in the world; men, women, and 
 parsons; and I like a parson who is a man first, and 
 a parson afterwards; not one who is a parson first, 
 and a man two weeks Tuesday come Michaelmas." 
 
 Donald laughed : he felt sure he was going to make 
 friends with this shrewd yet open-hearted member of 
 his flock. The pace slackened as the road began a 
 steep ascent. Mrs. Burke let the horses walk up the 
 hill, the slackened reins held in one hand; in the other 
 lolled the whip, which now and then she raised, tight 
 ening her grasp upon it as if for use, on second 
 thoughts dropping it to idleness again and clucking 
 to the horses instead. It was typical of her charac 
 ter the means of chastisement held handy, but in 
 reserve, and usually displaced by other methods of 
 suasion. 
 
 As they turned down over the brow of the hill they 
 drove rapidly, and as the splendid landscape of roll 
 ing country, tilled fields and pasture, stretching on to 
 distant wooded mountains, spread out before him, 
 Maxwell exclaimed enthusiastically, drawing a deep 
 breath of the exhilarating: air: 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 19 
 
 "How beautiful it is up here! You must have a 
 delightful climate." 
 
 "Well," she replied, "I don t know as we have 
 much climate to speak of. We have just a job lot of 
 weather, and we take it regular once after each 
 meal, once before goin to bed, and repeat if neces 
 sary before mornin . I won t say but it s pretty good 
 medicine, at that. There d be no show for the doc 
 tor, if it wasn t fashionable to invite him in at the 
 beginnin and the end of things." 
 
 Jonathan, who up to this time had been silent, felt 
 it incumbent to break into the conversation a bit, and 
 interposed: 
 
 "I suppose you ve never been up in these parts be 
 fore?" 
 
 "No," Maxwell responded; "but I ve always in 
 tended to come up during the season for a little 
 hunting some time. Was there much sport last 
 year?" 
 
 "Well, I can t say as there was, and I can t say as 
 there wasn t. The most I recollect was that two city 
 fellers shot a guide and another feller. But then it 
 was a poor season last fall, anyway." 
 
 Maxwell gave the Junior Warden a quick look, 
 but there was not a trace of a smile on his face, and 
 Hepsey chuckled. Keeping her eyes on the horses 
 
20 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 as they trotted along at a smart pace over a road none 
 too smooth for comfortable riding, she remarked 
 casually : 
 
 "I suppose the Bishop told you what we wanted 
 in the shape of a parson, didn t he?" 
 
 "Well, he hinted a few things." 
 
 "Yes; we re awful modest, like most country par 
 ishes that don t pay their rector more than enough 
 to get his collars laundered. We want a man who 
 can preach like the Archbishop of Canterbury, and 
 call on everybody twice a week, and know just when 
 anyone is sick without bein told a word about it. 
 He s got to be an awful good mixer, to draw the 
 young people like a porous plaster, and fill the pews. 
 He must have lots of sociables, and fairs, and things 
 to take the place of religion; and he must dress well, 
 and live like a gentleman on the salary of a book- 
 agent. But if he brings city ways along with him and 
 makes us feel like hayseeds, he won t be popu 
 lar." 
 
 "That s a rather large contract!" Maxwell replied 
 with a smile. 
 
 "Yes, but think what we re goin to pay you: six 
 hundred dollars a year, and you ll have to raise most 
 of it yourself, just for the fun of it." 
 
 At this point the Junior Warden interrupted: 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 21 
 
 "Now, Hepsey, what s the use of upsettin the 
 young man at the start. He s " 
 
 "Never mind, Jonathan. I m tellin the truth, any 
 way. You see," she continued, "most people think 
 piety s at a low ebb unless we re gettin up some kind 
 of a holy show all the time, to bring people together 
 that wouldn t meet anywhere else if they saw each 
 other first. Then when they ve bought a chance on a 
 pieced bed-quilt, or paid for chicken-pie at a church 
 supper, they go home feelin real religious, believin 
 that if there s any obligation between them and 
 heaven, it isn t on their side, anyway. Do you think 
 you re goin to fill the bill, Mr. Maxwell?" 
 
 "Well, I don t know," said Maxwell. "Of course 
 I might find myself possessed of a talent for invent 
 ing new and original entertainments each week; but 
 I m afraid that you re a bit pessimistic, Mrs. Burke, 
 aren t you?" 
 
 "No, I m not. There s a mighty fine side to life 
 in a country parish sometimes, where the right sort 
 of a man is in charge. The people take him as one 
 of their family, you know, and borrow eggs of his 
 wife as easy as of their next door neighbor. But the 
 young reverends expect too much of a country parish, 
 and break their hearts sometimes because they can t 
 make us tough old critters all over while you wait. 
 
22 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Poor things ! I m sorry for the average country par 
 son, and a lot sorrier for his wife." 
 
 "Well, don t you worry about me; I m well and 
 ; strong, and equal to anything, I imagine. I don t 
 
 /believe in taking life too seriously; it s bad for the 
 
 i 
 
 nerves and digestion. It will be an entirely new ex 
 perience for me, and I m sure I shall find the people 
 interesting." 
 
 "Yes, but what if they aren t your kind? I sup 
 pose you might find hippopotamuses interestin for a 
 while, but that s no reason you should like to live with 
 em. Anyway, don t mind what people say. They 
 aint got nothin to think about, so they make up by 
 talkin about it, especially when it happens to be a 
 new parson. We ve been havin odds and ends of 
 parsons from the remnant counter now for six months 
 or more; and that s enough to kill any parish. I 
 believe that if the angel Gabriel should preach for us, 
 half the congregation would object to the cut of his 
 wings, and the other half to the fit of his halo. We 
 call for all the virtues of heaven, and expect to get 
 em for seven-forty-nine." 
 
 "Well I shall have to look to you and the War 
 dens to help me out," he said. "You must help me 
 run things, until I know the ropes." 
 
 "Oh ! Bascom will run things for you, if you let 
 
HEPSEY BURKE 23 
 
 him do the runnin ," she replied, cracking her whip. 
 "You ll need to get popular first with him and his 
 then you ll have it easy." 
 
 Maxwell pondered these local words of wisdom, 
 and recalled the Bishop s warning that Bascom, the 
 Senior Warden, had not made life easy for his prede 
 cessors, and his superior s exhortation to firmness and 
 tact, to the end that he, Maxwell, should hold his 
 own, while taking his Senior Warden along with him. 
 The Senior Warden was evidently a power in the land. 
 
 They had driven about a mile and a half when the 
 wagon turned off the road, and drew up by a house 
 standing some distance back from it; getting down, 
 Mrs. Burke exclaimed: 
 
 "Welcome to Thunder Cliff, Mr. Maxwell. Thun 
 der Cliff s the name of the place, you know. All the 
 summer visitors in Durford have names for their 
 houses ; so I thought I d call my place Thunder Cliff, 
 just to be in the style." 
 
 Jonathan Jackson, who had kept a discreet silence 
 during Hepsey s pointers concerning his colleague, 
 the Senior Warden, interjected: 
 
 "There aint no cliff, Hepsey, and you know it. I 
 always tell her, Mr. Maxwell, taint appropriate a 
 bit." 
 
 "Jonathan, you aint no Englishman, and there s no 
 
24 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 use pretendin that you are. Some day when I have 
 a couple of hours to myself, I ll explain the whole 
 matter to you. There isn t any cliff, and the house 
 wants paintin and looks like thunder. Isn t that rea 
 son enough to go on with? Now, Mr. Maxwell, you 
 come in and make yourself perfectly at home." 
 
THAT afternoon Maxwell occupied himself in 
 unpacking his trunks and arranging his room. 
 As the finishing touch, he drew out of a leath 
 er case an exquisite miniature of a beautiful girl, 
 which he placed on the mantelpiece, and at which he 
 gazed for a long time with a wistful light in his fine 
 gray eyes. .Then he threw himself on the lounge, and 
 pulling a letter from his inner pocket, read: 
 
 "Don t worry about expenses, dear. Six hundred 
 
 25 
 
26 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 is quite enough for two; we shall be passing rich! 
 You must remember that, although I am a college 
 girl, I am not a helpless, extravagant creature, and I 
 know how to economize. I am sure we shall be able 
 to make both ends meet. With a small house, rent 
 free, a bit of ground for a vegetable garden, and 
 plenty of fresh air, we can accomplish almost any 
 thing, and be supremely happy together. And then, 
 when you win advancement, as of course you will very 
 soon, we shall appreciate the comforts all the more 
 from the fact that we were obliged to live the simple 
 life for a while. 
 
 "You can t possibly imagine how I miss you, sweet 
 heart. Do write as soon as possible and tell me all 
 about Durford. If I could just have one glimpse of 
 you in your new quarters but that would only be a 
 wretched aggravation; so I keep saying to myself 
 Some day, some day, and try to be patient. God 
 bless you and good-by." 
 
 Donald folded the letter carefully, kissed it, and 
 tucked it away in his pocket. Clasping his hands be 
 hind his head, he gazed at the ceiling. 
 
 "I wonder if I d better tell Mrs. Burke about Betty. 
 I don t care to pass myself off as a free man in a 
 parish like this. And yet, after all, it s none of their 
 
GOSSIP 27 
 
 business at present. I think I d better wait and find 
 out if there s any possibility of making her happy 
 here." 
 
 There was a knock at the door. 
 
 "Talk of angels," murmured Maxwell, and hur 
 riedly returned the miniature to its case before open 
 ing the door to Mrs. Burke, who came to offer as 
 sistance. 
 
 "Don t bother to fuss for me," she said as he has 
 tened to remove some books and clothes from a chair, 
 so that she might sit down. "I only came up for a 
 moment to see if there was anything I could do. 
 Think you can make yourself pretty comfortable 
 here? I call this room the prophet s chamber, 
 you know, because it s where I always put the visitin 
 parsons." 
 
 "They re lucky," he replied. "This room is just 
 delightful with that jolly old fireplace, its big dormer 
 windows, and the view over the river and the hills 
 beyond: I shall be very comfortable." 
 
 "Well, I hope so. You know I don t think any 
 livin -room is complete without a fireplace. Next to 
 an old friend, a bright wood fire s the best thing I 
 know to keep one from getting lonesome." 
 
 "Yes that and a good cigar." 
 
 "Well, I haven t smoked in some time now," Mrs. 
 
28 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Burke replied, smiling, "so I can t say. What a lot 
 of things you ve got!" 
 
 "Yes, more than I thought I had." 
 
 "I do love to see a man tryin to put things to 
 rights. He never knows where anything belongs. 
 What an awful lot of books you ve got ! I suppose 
 you re just chuck full of learnin , clean up to your 
 back teeth; but we wont any of us know the differ 
 ence. Most city parsons preach about things that are 
 ten miles over the heads of us country people. You 
 can t imagine how little thinkin most of us do up 
 here. We re more troubled with potato bugs than we 
 are with doubts; and you ll have to learn a lot about 
 us before you really get down to business, I guess." 
 
 "Yes, I expect to learn more from you than you 
 will from me. That s one of the reasons why I 
 wanted to come so far out in the country." 
 
 "Hm ! I hope you wont be disappointed." 
 
 Mrs. Burke adjusted her glasses and gazed inter 
 estedly about the room at some pictures and decora 
 tions which Maxwell had placed in position, and in 
 quired: 
 
 "Who is the plaster lady and gentleman standin 
 on the mantelpiece?" 
 
 "The Venus de Milo, and the Hermes of Praxi 
 teles." 
 
GOSSIP 29 
 
 "Well, you know, I just can t help preferrin ladies 
 and gentlemen with arms and legs, myself. I suppose 
 it s real cultivated to learn to like parts of people 
 done in marble. Maybe when I go down to the city 
 next fall to buy my trousseau, I ll buy a few plasters 
 myself, to make the house look more cheerful- 
 like." 
 
 Maxwell caught at the word "trousseau," and as 
 Mrs. Burke had spoken quite seriously he asked: 
 
 "Are you going to be married, Mrs. Burke?" 
 
 "No such thing! But when a handsome young 
 widow like me lives alone, frisky and sixty-ish, with 
 six lonesome, awkward widowers in the same school 
 district, you can never tell what might happen any 
 minute; In time of peace prepare for war, as the 
 paper says." 
 
 Maxwell laughed reassuringly. 
 
 "I don t see why you laugh," Mrs. Burke respond 
 ed, chuckling to herself. " Taint polite to look sur 
 prised when a woman says she s a-goin to get mar 
 ried. Every woman under ninety-eight has expecta 
 tions. While there s life there s hope that some man 
 will make a fool of himself. But unless I miss my 
 .guess, you don t catch me surrenderin my indepen 
 dence. As long as I have enough to eat and am well, 
 I m contented." 
 
30 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "You certainly look the picture of health, Mrs. 
 Burke." 
 
 "Oh, yes ! as well as could be expected, when I m 
 just recoverin from a visit from Mary Sam." 
 
 "What sort of a visitor is that?" asked Maxwell, 
 laughing. 
 
 "Mary Sam is my sister-in-law. She spends a 
 month with me every year on her own invitation. She 
 is what you d call a hardy annual. She is the most 
 stingy and narrow-minded woman I ever saw. The 
 bark on the trees hangs in double box-plaits as com 
 pared with Mary Sam. But I got the best of her last 
 year. While I was cleanin the attic I came across 
 the red pasteboard sign with Scarlet Fever painted 
 on it, that the Board of Health put on the house when 
 Nickey had the fever three years ago. The very next 
 day I was watchin the bus comin up Main Street, 
 when I saw Mary Sam s solferino bonnet bobbin up 
 and down inside. Before she got to the house, I 
 sneaked out and pinned up the sign, right by the front 
 door. She got onto the piazza, bag, baggage, and 
 brown paper bundles, before she caught sight of it. 
 Then I wish you could have seen her face : I wouldn t 
 have believed so much could be done with so few 
 features." 
 
 "She didn t linger long?" laughed the parson, 
 
GOSSIP 31 
 
 who continued arranging his books while his visitor 
 chatted. 
 
 "Linger? Well, not exactly. She turned tail and 
 run lickety-spindle back for the bus as if she had 
 caught sight of a subscription paper for foreign mis 
 sions. I heard Jim Anderson, who drives the bus, 
 snicker as he helped her in again; but he didn t give 
 me away. Jim and I are good friends. But when 
 she got home she wrote to Sally Ramsdale to ask how 
 Nickey was ; and Sally, not bein on to the game, wrote 
 back that there was nothin the matter with Nickey 
 that she knew of. Then Mary Sam wrote me the 
 impudentest letter I ever got; and she came right 
 back, and stayed two months instead of one, just to 
 be mean. But that sign s done good service since. 
 I ve scared off agents and tramps by the score. I 
 always hang it in the parlor window when I m away 
 from home." 
 
 "But suppose your house caught fire while you were 
 away?" 
 
 "Well, I ve thought of that; but there s worse 
 things than fire if your insurance is all right." 
 
 Mrs. Burke relapsed into silence for a while, until 
 Maxwell opened a box of embroidered stoles, which 
 he spread out on the bed for her inspection. 
 
 "My ! but aren t those beautiful ! I never saw the 
 
32 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 like before. Where did you get em?" 
 
 "They were made by the Sisters of St. Paul in 
 Boston." 
 
 Hepsey gazed at the stoles a long time in silence, 
 handling them daintily; then she remarked: 
 
 "I used to embroider some myself. Would you 
 like to see some of it?" 
 
 "Certainly, I should be delighted to see it," Don 
 ald responded; and Mrs. Burke went in search of 
 her work. 
 
 Presently she returned and showed Maxwell a sam 
 ple of her skill doubtless intended for a cushion- 
 cover. To be sure it was a bit angular and impres 
 sionistic. Like Browning s poems and Turner s pic 
 tures, it left interesting room for speculation. To 
 begin with, there was a dear little pink dog in the 
 foreground, having convulsions on purple grass. In 
 the middle-distance was a lay-figure in orange, pick 
 ing scarlet apples from what appeared to be a revolv 
 ing clothes-horse blossoming profusely at the ends 
 of each beam. A little blue brook gurgled merrily 
 up the hill, and disappeared down the other side only 
 to reappear again as a blue streak in an otherwise 
 crushed-strawberry sky. A pumpkin sun was disap 
 pearing behind emerald hills, shooting up equidistant 
 yellow rays, like the spokes of a cart-wheel. Under- 
 
GOSSIP 33 
 
 neath this striking composition was embroidered the 
 dubious sentiment "There is no place like home." 
 
 Maxwell examined carefully the square of cross- 
 stitch wool embroidery, biting his lip; while Hepsey 
 watched him narrowly, chuckling quietly to herself. 
 Then she laughed heartily, and asked: 
 
 "Confess now; don t you think it s beautiful?" 
 
 Donald smiled broadly as he replied: 
 
 "It s really quite wonderful. Did you do it your 
 self?" 
 
 "To be sure I did, when I was a little girl and we 
 used to work in wool from samplers, and learn to do 
 alphabets. I m glad you appreciate it. If you would 
 like to have me embroider anything for the church, 
 don t hesitate to ask me." She busied herself exam 
 ining the stoles again, and asked: 
 
 "How much did these things cost, if you don t 
 mind my askin ?" 
 
 "I don t know. They were given to me by a friend 
 of mine, when I graduated from the Seminary." 
 
 "Hm! a friend of yours, eh? She must think an 
 awful lot of you." 
 
 Hepsey gave Donald a sharp glance. 
 
 "I didn t say it was a lady." 
 
 "No, but your eyes and cheeks did. Well, it s none 
 of my business, and there s no reason that I know of 
 
34 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 why the Devil should have all the bright colors, and 
 embroideries, and things. Are you High Church?" 
 
 Maxwell hesitated a moment and replied : 
 
 "What do you mean by High Church? " 
 
 "The last rector we had was awful high." Hepsey 
 smiled with reminiscent amusement. 
 
 "How so?" 
 
 "We suspected he didn t wear no pants durin ser 
 vice." 
 
 "How very extraordinary! Is that a symptom of 
 ritualism?" 
 
 "Well, you see he wore a cassock under his sur 
 plice, and none of our parsons had ever done that 
 before. The Senior Warden got real stirred up about 
 it, and told Mr. Whittimore that our rectors always 
 wore pants durin service. Mr. Whittimore pulled 
 up his cassock and showed the Warden that he had 
 his pants on. The Warden told him it was an awful 
 relief to his mind, as he considered goin without 
 pants durin service the enterin wedge for Popish 
 tricks; and if things went on like that, nobody knew 
 where we would land. Then some of the women got 
 talkin , and said that the rector practiced celibacy, and 
 that some one should warn him that the parish 
 wouldn t stand for any more innovations, and he d 
 better look out. So one day, Virginia Bascom, the 
 
GOSSIP 35 
 
 Senior Warden s daughter, told him what was being 
 said about him. The parson just laughed at Ginty, 
 and said that celibacy was his misfortune, not his 
 fault; and that he hoped to overcome it in time. That 
 puzzled her some, and she came to me and asked 
 what celibacy was. When I told her it was staying 
 unmarried, like St. Paul my, but wasn t she mad, 
 though ! You ought to have seen her face. She was 
 so mortified that she wouldn t speak to me for a week. 
 Well, I guess I ve gossiped enough for now. I must 
 go and make my biscuits for supper. If I can help 
 you any, just call out. 
 
I J MHfiffiDBZBRHBBMMmBOHHCbiiiBBPilWRHBHnMBli 19 
 
 {{TT S a fine morning, Mr. Maxwell," Mrs. Burke 
 remarked at breakfast next day, "and I m goin 
 to drive down to the village to do some shop 
 ping. Don t you want to go with me and pay your 
 respects to the Senior Warden? You ll find him in 
 his office. Then I ll meet you later, and bring you 
 home dead or alive !" 
 
 Maxwell laughed. "That sounds cheerful, but I 
 should be glad to go." 
 
 "I guess you better, and have it over with. He ll 
 
 36 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 37 
 
 expect it. He s like royalty: he never calls first; and 
 when he s at home he always has a flag on a pole in 
 the front yard. If he s out of town for the day, his 
 man lowers the flag. I generally call when the flag s 
 down. I wish everybody had a flag; it s mighty con 
 venient." 
 
 The center of Durford s social, commercial and 
 ecclesiastical life was the village green, a plot of 
 ground on which the boys played ball, and in the mid 
 dle of which was the liberty pole and the band-stand. 
 On one side of the green was a long block of stores, 
 and on the opposite side a row of churches, side by 
 side, five in number. There was the Meeting House, 
 in plain gray; "The First Church of Durford," with 
 a Greek portico in front; "The Central Church," 
 with a box-like tower and a slender steeple with a gild 
 ed rooster perched on top an edifice which looked 
 like a cross between a skating rink and a railroad 
 station; and last of all, the Episcopal Church on the 
 corner a small, elongated structure, which might 
 have been a carpenter-shop but for the little cross 
 which surmounted the front gable, and the pointed 
 tops of the narrow windows, which were supposed 
 to be "gothic" and to proclaim the structure to be the 
 House of God. 
 
 Just around the corner was a little tumble-down 
 
3 8 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 house known as "The Rectory." The tall grass and 
 the lowered shades indicated that it had been unoc 
 cupied for some time. Mrs. Burke called Maxwell s 
 attention to it. 
 
 "I suppose you ll be living there some day if you 
 stay here long enough; though of course you can t 
 keep house there alone. The place needs a lot of over- 
 haulin . Nickey says there s six feet of plaster off 
 the parlor ceilin , and the cellar gets full of water 
 when it rains; but I guess we can fix it up when the 
 time comes. That s your cathedral, on the corner. 
 You see, we have five churches, when we really need 
 only one; and so we have to scrap for each other s 
 converts, to keep up the interest. We feed em on 
 sandwiches, pickles and coffee every now and then, to 
 make em come to church. Yes, preachin and pickles, 
 sandwiches and salvation, seem to run in the same 
 class, these days." 
 
 When they arrived in front of the block, Mrs. 
 Burke hitched her horse, and left Maxwell to his own 
 devices. He proceeded to hunt up the post office; 
 and as the mail was not yet distributed, he had to wait 
 some time, conscious of the fact that he was the cen 
 ter of interest to the crowd assembled in the room. 
 Finally, when he gained access to the delivery win 
 dow, he was greeted by a smile from the postmistress, 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 39 
 
 a woman of uncertain age, who remarked as she 
 handed him his letters : 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. Maxwell. Glad to meet you. 
 I m a Presbyterian myself; but I have always made it 
 a point to be nice to everybody. You seem to have 
 quite a good many correspondents, and I presume 
 you ll be wantin a lock box. It s so convenient. You 
 must feel lonesome in a strange place. Drop in and 
 see mother some day. She s got curvature of the 
 spine, but no religious prejudices. She ll be right glad 
 to see you, I m sure, even though she s not Piscopal." 
 
 Maxwell thanked her, and inquired the way to the 
 Senior Warden s office, to which she directed him. 
 
 Three doors below the post office was a hallway 
 and a flight of stairs leading up to Mr. Bascom s 
 sanctum. As he ascended, Maxwell bethought him 
 of the Bishop s hint that this was the main strong 
 hold for the exercise of his strategy. The Senior 
 Warden, for some reason or other, had persistently 
 quarreled with the clergy, or crossed them. What was 
 the secret of his antagonism? Would he be predis 
 posed in Maxwell s favor, or prejudiced against him? 
 He would soon discover and he decided to let 
 Bascom do most of the talking. Reaching the first 
 landing, Donald knocked on a door the upper panel 
 of which was filled with glass, painted white. On 
 
4 o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 the glass in large black letters was the name: "SYL 
 VESTER BASCOM." 
 
 The Senior Warden sat behind a table, covered 
 with musty books and a litter of letters and papers. 
 In his prime he had been a small man ; and now, well 
 past middle age, he looked as if he had shrunk until 
 he was at least five sizes too small for his skin, which 
 was sallow and loose. There was a suspicious look 
 in his deep-set eyes, which made his hooked nose all 
 the more aggressive. He was bald, except for a few 
 stray locks of gray hair which were brushed up from 
 his ears over the top of his head, and evidently fas 
 tened down by some gluey cosmetic. He frowned 
 severely as Maxwell entered, but extended a shriv 
 eled, bony hand, and pointed to a chair. Then 
 placing the tips of his fingers together in front of 
 his chest, he gazed at Donald as if he were the pris 
 oner at the bar, and began without any preliminary 
 welcome : 
 
 "So you are the young man who is to take charge 
 of the church. It is always difficult for a city-bred 
 man to adjust himself to the needs and manners of a 
 country parish. Very difficult, Mr. Maxwell very 
 difficult." 
 
 Maxwell smiled as he replied: 
 
 "Yes, but that is a fault which time will remedy." 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 41 
 
 "Doubtless. Time has a way of remedying most 
 things. But in the meantime in the meantime, lack 
 of tact, self-assertiveness, indiscretion, on the part of 
 a clergyman may do much harm much harm!" 
 
 Mr. Maxwell colored slightly as he laughed and 
 replied: 
 
 "I should imagine that you have had rather a mean 
 time, from the way you speak. Your impressions of 
 the clergy seem to be painful." 
 
 "Well," the lawyer continued sententiously, "we 
 have had all sorts and conditions of men, as the 
 Prayer Book says ; and the result has not always been 
 satisfactory not always satisfactory. But I was not 
 consulted." 
 
 To this, Maxwell, who was somewhat nettled, re 
 plied: 
 
 "I suppose that in any case the responsibility for the 
 success of a parish must be somewhat divided between 
 the parson and the people. I am sure I may count on 
 your assistance." 
 
 "Oh yes; oh yes; of course. I shall be very glad 
 to advise you in any way I can. Prevention is better 
 than cure: don t hesitate to come to me for sugges 
 tions. You will doubtless be anxious to follow in the 
 good old ways, and avoid extremes. I am a firm be 
 liever in expediency. Though I was not consulted in 
 
42 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 the present appointment, I may say that what we need 
 is a man of moderate views who can adjust himself 
 to circumstances. Tact, that is the great thing in life. 
 I am a firm believer in tact. Our resources are lim 
 ited; and a clergyman should be a self-denying man 
 of God, contented with plain living and high think 
 ing. No man can succeed in a country parish who 
 seeks the loaves and fishes of the worldling. Dur- 
 ford is not a metropolis; we do not emulate city 
 ways." 
 
 "No, I should imagine not," Maxwell answered. 
 
 The parson gathered that the Senior Warden felt 
 slighted that he had not been asked by the Bishop to 
 name his appointee; and that if he had bethought 
 himself to sprinkle a little hay-seed on his clothing, 
 his reception might have been more cordial. 
 
 At this point the door opened and a woman, hov 
 ering somewhere between twenty-five and forty, 
 dressed in rather youthful and pronounced attire, en 
 tered, and seeing Donald exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, papa, I did not know that you were busy with 
 a client. Do excuse me." 
 
 Then, observing the clerical attire of the "client," 
 she came forward, and extending her hand to Donald, 
 exclaimed with a coy, insinuating smile : 
 
 "I am sure that you must be Mr. Maxwell. I am 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 43 
 
 so glad to see you. I hope I am not interrupting 
 professional confidences." 
 
 "Not in the least," Donald replied, as he placed 
 a chair for her. "I am very glad to have the pleas 
 ure of meeting you, Miss Bascom." 
 
 "I heard last night that you had arrived, Mr. Max 
 well; and I am sure that it is very good of you to 
 come and see papa so soon. I hope to see you at our 
 house before long. You know that we are in the 
 habit of seeing a good deal of the rector, because 
 you will excuse my frankness because there are so 
 few people of culture and refinement in this town to 
 make it pleasant for him." 
 
 "I am sure that you are very kind," Donald replied. 
 Miss Bascom had adjusted her tortoise-shell lorg 
 nette, and was surveying Donald from head to 
 foot. 
 
 "Is your wife with you?" she inquired, as one who 
 would say: "Tell me no lies!" 
 
 "No, I am not married." 
 
 At once she was one radiant smile of welcome: 
 
 "Papa, we must do all we can to make Mr. Max 
 well feel at home at Willow Bluff so that he will 
 not get lonesome and desert us," she added genially. 
 
 "You re very kind." 
 
 "You must come and dine with us very soon and 
 
44 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 see our place for yourself. You are staying with Mrs. 
 Burke, I understand." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "How does she impress you?" 
 
 "I hardly know her well enough to form any defin 
 ite opinion of her, though she has been kindness 
 itself to me." 
 
 "Yes, she has a sharp tongue, but a kind heart; 
 and she does a great deal of good in the village; but, 
 poor soul! she has no sense of humor none what 
 ever. Then of course she is not in society, you know. 
 You will find, Mr. Maxwell, that social lines are very 
 carefully drawn in this town; there are so many 
 grades, and one has to be careful, you know." 
 
 "Is it so I How many people are there in the 
 town?" 
 
 "Possibly eight or nine hundred." 
 
 "And how many of them are in society ?" 
 
 "Oh, I should imagine not more than twenty or 
 thirty." 
 
 "They must be very select." 
 
 "Oh, we are; quite so." 
 
 "Don t you ever get tired of seeing the same twenty 
 or thirty all the time? I m afraid I am sufficiently 
 vulgar to like a change, once in a while somebody 
 real common, you know." 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 45; 
 
 Miss Bascom raised her lorgnette in pained sur 
 prise and gazed at Donald curiously; then she sighed 
 and tapping her fingers with her glasses replied: 
 
 "But one has to consider the social responsibilities 
 of one s position, you know. Many of the village 
 people are well enough in their way, really quite 
 amusing as individuals; but one cannot alter social 
 distinctions." 
 
 "I see," replied Donald, non-committally. 
 
 Virginia was beginning to think that the new rec 
 tor war :her dull in his perceptions, rather gauche, 
 but, deciding to take a charitable view, she held out 
 her hand with a beaming smile as she said: 
 
 "Remember, you are to make Willow Bluff one of 
 your homes. We shall always be charmed to see 
 you." 
 
 When, after their respective shoppings were com 
 pleted, Maxwell rejoined Mrs. Burke, and they had 
 started on a brisk trot towards home, she re 
 marked : 
 
 "So you have had a visit with the Senior Warden." 
 
 "Yes, and with Miss Bascom. She came into the 
 office while I was there." 
 
 "Hm! Well! She s one of your flock I" 
 
 "Would you call Miss Bascom one of my lambs?" 
 asked Donald mischievously. 
 
46 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Oh, that depends on where you draw the line. 
 Don t you think she s handsome?" 
 
 "I can hardly say. What do you think about it?" 
 
 "Oh, I don t know. When she s well dressed she 
 has a sort of style about her; but isn t it merciful 
 that we none of us know how we really do look? If 
 we did, we wouldn t risk bein alone with ourselves 
 five minutes without a gun." 
 
 "Is that one for Miss Bascom?" 
 
 "No, I ought not to say a word against Virginia 
 Bascom. She s a good sort accordin to her lights; 
 and then too, she is a disconnection of mine by mar 
 riage once removed." 
 
 "How do you calculate that relationship?" 
 
 "Oh, her mother s brother married my sister. She 
 suspected that he was guilty of incompatibility and 
 she proved it, and got a divorce. If that don t make 
 a disconnection of Ginty Bascom, then I don t know 
 what does. Virginia was born in Boston, though she 
 was brought up here. It must be terrible to be born 
 in Boston, and have to live up to it, when you spend 
 your whole life in a place like Durford. But Ginty 
 does her very best, though occasionally she forgets." 
 
 "You can hardly blame her for that. Memory is 
 tricky, and Boston and Durford are about as unlike 
 as two places well could be." 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 47. 
 
 "Oh, no; I don t blame her. Once she formed a 
 club for woman s suffrage. She set out to form my 
 mind as if my mind wasn t pretty thoroughly 
 formed at this time of day and get me to protest 
 against the tyranny of the male sex. I didn t see that 
 the male sex was troublin her much; but I signed a 
 petition she got up to send to the Governor or some 
 body, asking for the right to vote. There was an 
 opposition society that didn t want the ballot, and 
 they got up another petition." 
 
 "And you signed that too, I expect," laughed Don 
 ald. 
 
 "Sure thing, I did. I m not narrow-minded, and 
 I like to be obliging. Then she tried what she called 
 slummin , which, as near as I can see, means walkin 
 in where you aint wanted, because people are poorer 
 than you are, and leavin little tracts that nobody 
 reads, and currant jelly that nobody eats, and clothes 
 that nobody can wear. But an Irishman shied a cab 
 bage at her head while she was tryin to convince him 
 that the bath-tub wasn t really a coal bin, and that 
 his mental attitude was hindside before. 
 
 "Then she got to be a Theosophist, and used to 
 sit in her room upstairs projecting her astral body 
 out of the window into the back yard, and pulling it 
 in again like a ball on a rubber string just for prac- 
 
48 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 tice, you know. But that attack didn t last long." 
 
 "She seems to be a very versatile young woman; 
 but she doesn t stick to one thing very long." 
 
 "A rolling stone gathers no moss, you know," Mrs. 
 Burke replied. "That s one of the advantages of 
 bein a rolling stone. It must be awful to get mossy; 
 and there isn t any moss on Virginia Bascom, what 
 ever faults she may have not a moss." 
 
 For a moment Mrs. Burke was silent, and then 
 she began: 
 
 "Once Virginia got to climbin her family tree, to 
 find out where her ancestors came from. She thought 
 that possibly they might be noblemen. But I guess 
 there wasn t very much doin up the tree until she got 
 down to New York, and paid a man to tell her. She 
 brought back an illuminated coat of arms with a lion 
 rampantin on top ; but she was the same old Virginia 
 still. What do I care about my ancestors ! It doesn t 
 make no difference to me. I m just myself anyway, 
 no matter how you figure; and I m a lot more wor 
 ried about where I m goin to, than where I came 
 from. Virginia s got a book called Who s Who, 
 that she s always studying. But the only thing that 
 matters, it seems to me, is Who s What." 
 
 "I wonder she hasn t married," remarked Donald, 
 innocently. 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 49 
 
 "Ah, that s the trouble. She s like a thousand 
 others without no special occupation in life. She s 
 wastin a lot of bottled up interest and sympathy on 
 foolish things. If she d married and had seven babies, 
 they would have seen to it that she didn t make a 
 fool of herself. However, it isn t her fault. She s 
 volunteered to act as Deaconess to every unmarried 
 parson we ve had; and it s a miracle of wonders one 
 of em didn t succumb ; parsons are such oh, do ex 
 cuse me ! I mean so injudicious on the subject of 
 matrimony." 
 
 "But, Mrs. Burke, don t you think a clergyman 
 ought to be a married man ?" 
 
 "Well, to tell you the truth, t aint me that s been 
 doin the thinkin along those lines, for most of the 
 parsons we ve had. I ve been more of a first aid to 
 the injured, in the matrimonial troubles of our par 
 ish, and the Lord only knows when love-making has 
 got as far as actual injury to the parties engaged, 
 well thinkin aint much use. But there s Ginty for 
 example. She s been worryin herself thin for the 
 last five years, doin matrimonial equations for the 
 clergy. She s a firm believer in the virtue of pa 
 tience, and if the Lord only keeps on sendin us 
 unmarried rectors, Ginty is goin to have her day. 
 It s just naturally bound to come. I aint sure whether 
 
50 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 she s got a right to be still runnin with the lambs or 
 not, but that don t matter much, old maids will 
 rush in where angels fear to tread." 
 
 Maxwell smiled. "Old maids, and old bachelors, 
 are pretty much alike. I know a few of the latter, 
 that no woman on earth could make into regular 
 human beings." 
 
 "Oh, yes; old bachelors aren t the nicest thing the 
 Lord ever made. Most of em are mighty selfish 
 critters, take em as they run ; and a man that s never 
 had a real great love in his life doesn t know what 
 life is." 
 
 "That s quite true," Donald responded, with such 
 warmth that Mrs. Burke glanced at him suspiciously, 
 and changed her tune, as she continued: 
 
 "Seems to me a parson, or any other man, is very 
 foolish to marry before he can support a wife com 
 fortably, and lay by somethin for a rainy day, though. 
 The last rector had five babies and seventeen cents 
 to feed em with. Yes, there were little olive branches 
 on all four sides of the table, and under the table too. 
 The Whittimores seemed to have their quiver full of 
 em, as the psalmist says. Mrs. Whittimore used to 
 say to me, The Lord will provide, just to keep her 
 courage up, poor thing! Well, I suppose the Lord 
 did provide; but I had to do a lot of hustlin , just 
 
SENIOR WARDEN 51 
 
 the same. No sir, if a parson marries, he better find 
 a woman who has outgrown her short skirts. Young 
 things dyin to be martyrs with a good lookin young 
 parson, are a drug in the market. Better go slow." 
 And Hepsey looked up at him significantly. 
 
 "Then you think it would be inadvisable to propose 
 to Miss Virginia immediately, do you?" Donald 
 asked, as if humbly seeking guidance. 
 
 "Well, there doesn t seem to be any immediate 
 hurry about it. Now if you ll open the gate to Thun 
 der Cliff, I ll be much obliged to you. If I don t get 
 my mind on something less romantic than Virginia, 
 we shall have to dine off airy fancies and that wont 
 suit Nickey, for one." 
 
ETTY, my love: 
 
 I can imagine that just about this time you 
 have finished your dinner, and are enjoying 
 your after-dinner coffee in the library with your 
 father. I would give all that I possess, though 
 heaven knows that is mighty little, to be with you 
 and get you to talk to me, and let me tell you all that 
 has happened since I left you. But instead of that I 
 am alone in my room with your picture on the table 
 while I write, and it is the middle of the evening with 
 
 5 2 
 
MILKING 53 
 
 us on the farm. I have a bright wood fire on the 
 hearth, as it s a bit chilly to-night. 
 
 To-day I have almost completed my first round of 
 parish visits, and the experience has been a revelation 
 to me of the mixture of pathetic narrowness, hard 
 ship, and self-denial of the people up here in the 
 mountains. One minute I am all out of patience with 
 their stupidity, and the next I am touched to the heart 
 by their patience with unendurable conditions, and 
 their generosity and kindness to each other. I hope 
 to be able to adjust my mental equilibrium to the sit 
 uation before long and to learn to understand them 
 better; I find that a country parson must be a man 
 of many accomplishments, and that I have to learn 
 my profession all over again. Yesterday I called on 
 a poor shriveled old woman who, I was told, was in 
 trouble. When I asked her what I could do for her, 
 she brightened up and informed me that her apple 
 trees were full of worms ! So there was nothing for 
 it but to take off my coat and vest, roll up my sleeves, 
 and burn out the worms. I must have destroyed 
 about a bushel, more or less. It took most of the 
 afternoon; but she was pleased, and appeared in 
 church this morning for the first time in six years. 
 
 I have learned a lot about the rotation of crops, 
 helped to dig a well, and attended a barn dance. I 
 
54 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 have eaten pickles by the score at teas given in my 
 honor, rather than offend the hostess; and have had 
 horrible nights in consequence. Every morning 
 Nickey and I take the milk down to the creamery be 
 fore breakfast. I am so tanned that you would hardly 
 recognize me; and I must confess with shame that 1 
 am never more happy than when I am able to put on 
 my soiled working clothes and do manual labor on 
 the farm. I suppose it is the contrast to my former 
 life, and the fact that it takes my thoughts away from 
 the longing for you. 
 
 The men up here seem to think I know mighty lit 
 tle. It s very humiliating! But since they discov 
 ered that I am neither " Yistocratic" nor "pious," they 
 seem to be friendly enough. I often find myself won 
 dering if much of the work in the seminary wasn t a 
 sheer waste of time, when I am brought up against 
 the practical, commonplace, every-day life of these 
 people. My friend Mrs. Burke has a fund of com 
 mon sense and worldly wisdom which is worth more 
 than any Ph.D. or S.T.D. represents, to help a man 
 to meet the hard facts of life successfully; and she 
 has been very nice and considerate in making sug 
 gestions to me always wrapped up in a humor all 
 her own. I have found it practically impossible to 
 get into touch with the farmers of the neighborhood 
 
MILKING 55 
 
 without becoming more or less of a farmer myself, 
 and learning by actual experience what the life is like. 
 One man was so openly supercilious when he found 
 out that I did not know how to milk, that Mrs. Burke, 
 who is nothing if not practical, offered to show 
 me. 
 
 I have acquired a suit of overalls, and a wide- 
 brimmed straw hat; and so, attiring myself in the 
 most orthodox fashion, Mrs. Burke and I went to 
 the shed yesterday where Louise, the Jersey cow, 
 abides, and I took my first lesson in milking. Mrs. 
 Burke carefully explained to me the modus operandi 
 I was to pursue; and so, taking the tin pail between 
 my knees, I seated myself on the three-legged stool 
 by the side of Louise, and timidly began operations. 
 She seemed to know by some bovine instinct that I 
 was a tenderfoot; and although I followed Mrs. 
 Burke s instructions to the letter, no milk put in its 
 appearance. Mrs. Burke was highly amused at my 
 perplexity. Finally she remarked : 
 
 "You ve got to introduce yourself, and get Louise s 
 confidence before she ll give down. She thinks that 
 you are too familiar on a short acquaintance. Now 
 talk to her a bit, and be friendly." 
 
 This was somewhat of a poser, as Louise and I 
 really have not much in common, and I was at a loss 
 
56 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 where to begin. But something had to be done, and 
 so I made a venture and remarked: 
 
 "Louise, the wind is in the south; and if it doesn t 
 change, we shall certainly have rain within three 
 days." 
 
 This did not seem to have the desired effect. In 
 fact, she ignored my remark in the most contemptu 
 ous fashion. Then Mrs. Burke suggested: 
 
 "Get up, and come round where she can see you. 
 No lady wants to be talked to by a gentleman that s 
 out of sight." 
 
 So I got up and went around by her head, fed her 
 some clover, patted her on the neck, rubbed her nose, 
 and began a little mild, persuasive appeal : 
 
 "Louise, I am really a man of irreproachable char 
 acter. I am a son of the Revolution; I held three 
 scholarships in Harvard; and I graduated second in 
 my class at the General Sem. Furthermore, I m not 
 at all accustomed to being snubbed by ladies. Can t 
 you make up your mind to be obliging?" 
 
 Louise sniffed at me inquiringly, gazing at me with 
 large-eyed curiosity. Then as if in token that she 
 had come to a favorable conclusion, she ran out her 
 tongue and licked my hand. When I resumed opera 
 tions, the milk poured into the pail, and Mrs. Burke 
 was just congratulating me on my complete success, 
 
MILKING 57 
 
 when, by some accident the stool slipped, and I fell 
 over backwards, and the whole contents of the pail 
 was poured on the ground. My! but wasn t I dis 
 gusted? I thought Mrs. Burke would never stop 
 laughing at me ; but she was good enough not to al 
 lude to the loss of the milk! 
 
 Some day when we are married, and you come up 
 here, I will take you out and introduce you to Louise, 
 and she will fall in love with you on the spot. 
 
 My most difficult task is my Senior Warden and 
 it looks as if he would not make friends, do what I 
 will to "qualify" according to his own expressed no 
 tions of what a country parson should be. But I 
 rather suspect that he likes to keep the scepter in his 
 own hands, while the clergy do his bidding.. But that 
 wont do for me. 
 
 So you see the life up here is interesting from its 
 very novelty, though I do get horribly lonesome, 
 sometimes. If I had not pledged myself to the 
 Bishop to stay and work the parish together into 
 something like an organization, I am afraid I should 
 be tempted to cut and run back to you, sweetheart. 
 
 And there was a post script : 
 
 "I ve not said half enough of how much Mrs. 
 Burke s wisdom has taught and helped me. She is 
 a shrewd observer of human motives, and I expect 
 
58 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 she has had a struggle to keep the sweetness of her 
 nature at the top. She is, naturally, a capable, dom 
 inating character; and often I watch how she forces 
 herself to let persuasiveness take precedence of com- 
 bativeness. Her acquired philosophy, as applied to 
 herself and others, is summed up in a saying she let 
 drop the other day, modified to suit her needs : More 
 flies are caught with molasses than with vinegar but 
 keep some vinegar by you ! Verb. Sap.!" 
 
MU 
 
 IT happened that the "Reverend Donald Maxwell 
 committed a careless indiscretion. When he 
 went to his room to prepare for supper, he found 
 that he had left the miniature of a certain young lady 
 on the mantelpiece, having forgotten to return it to 
 its hiding-place the night before. He quickly placed 
 it in its covering and locked it up in his desk, but not 
 without many misgivings at the thought that Mrs. 
 Burke had probably discovered it when she put his 
 room in order. 
 
 59 
 
60 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 He was quite right in his surmise, for just as she 
 was about to leave the room she had caught sight of 
 the picture, and, after examining it carefully, she had 
 exclaimed to herself: 
 
 "Hm! Hm! So that s the young woman, is it? 
 In a gilded frame set with real glass rubies and tur 
 quoises. I guessed those letters couldn t come from 
 his mother. She wouldn t write to him every blessed 
 day; she d take a day off now and then, just to rest 
 up a bit. Well, well, well! So this is what you ve 
 been dreaming about; and a mighty good thing too 
 only the sooner it s known the better. But I suppose 
 I ll have to wait for his reverence to inform me offi 
 cially, and then I ll have to look mighty surprised! 
 She s got a good face, anyway; but he ought to wait 
 awhile. Poor soul! she d just die of loneliness up 
 here. Well, I suppose it ll be my business to look 
 after her, and I reckon I d best take time by the fet 
 lock, and get the rectory in order. It isn t fit for rats 
 to live in now." 
 
 Mrs. Burke s discovery haunted her all day long, 
 and absorbed her thoughts when she went to bed. If 
 Maxwell was really engaged to be married, she did 
 not see why he did not announce the fact, and have it 
 over with. She had to repeat her prayers three times 
 before she could keep the girl in the gilt frame out 
 
THE MINIATURE 61 
 
 of them; and she solved the problem by praying that 
 she might not make a fool of herself. 
 
 The next morning she went over to Jonathan Jack 
 son s house to see what her friend and neighbor, the 
 Junior Warden, would say about the matter. He 
 could be trusted to keep silent and assist her to carry 
 out some provisional plans. She knew exactly what 
 she wished and what she intended to do ; but she im 
 agined that she wanted the pleasure of hearing some 
 one tell her that she was exactly right. 
 
 Jonathan Jackson was precisely the person to sat 
 isfy the demand, as his deceased wife had never al 
 lowed him to have any opinion for more than fifteen 
 minutes at a time if it differed from hers; and when 
 she had made a pretense of consulting him, he had 
 learned by long experience to hesitate for a moment, 
 look judicially wise, and then repeat her suggestions 
 as nearly as he could remember them. So Jonathan 
 made a most excellent friend and neighbor, when 
 any crisis or emergency called for an expert opin 
 ion. 
 
 Mrs. Burke had been an intimate friend of Sarah 
 Jackson, and just before Mrs. Jackson died she made 
 Hepsey promise that after she was gone she would 
 keep a friendly eye on Jonathan, and see that he did 
 not get into mischief, or let the house run down, or 
 
62 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "live just by eatin odds and ends off the pantry shelf 
 any old way." Mrs. Jackson entertained no illusions 
 in regard to her husband, and she trusted Hepsey 
 implicitly. So, after Mrs. Jackson s mortal depart 
 ure, Hepsey made periodic calls on Jonathan, which 
 always gave him much pleasure until she became in 
 quisitive about his methods of housekeeping; then 
 he would grow reticent. 
 
 "Good morning, Jonathan," Hepsey called, as she 
 presented herself at the woodshed door, w r here she 
 caught Jonathan mending some of his underclothes 
 laboriously. 
 
 "Well, I declare," she continued, "I m blessed if 
 you aint sewin white buttons on with black thread. 
 Is anybody dead in the family, or aint you feelin well 
 as to your head this mornin ?" 
 
 His voice quavered with mingled embarrassment 
 and resentment as he replied : 
 
 "What difference does it make, Hepsey? It don t 
 make no difference, as long as nobody don t see it but 
 
 me." 
 
 "And why in the name of conscience don t you get 
 a thimble, Jonathan? The idea of your stickin the 
 needle in, and then pressin it against the chair to 
 make it go through. If that aint just like a helpless 
 man, I wouldn t say." 
 
1 M BLESSED IF YOU AIM T SEWIN WHITE BUTTONS ON WITH 
 BLACK THREAD. IS ANYBODY DEAD IN THE FAMILY, OR AIN T YOU 
 FEELIN WELL THIS MORNIN ?" 
 
THE MINIATURE 63 
 
 "Well, of course sewin aint just a man s business, 
 anyway; and when he has just got to do it " 
 
 "Why dont you let Mary McGuire do it for you? 
 You pay her enough, certainly, to keep you from be- 
 comin a buttonless orphan." 
 
 Mary McGuire, be it said, was the woman who 
 came in by the day, and cooked for Jonathan, and 
 intermittently cleaned him out of house and home. 
 
 "She don t know much about such things," replied 
 Jonathan confidentially. "I did let her do it for a 
 while; but when my buttonholes got tore larger, in 
 stead of sewin em up, she just put on a larger but 
 ton; and I d be buttomn my pants with the covers of 
 saucepans by now, if I d let her go on." 
 
 "It is curious what helpless critters men are, spe 
 cially widowers. Now Jonathan, why don t you lay 
 aside your sewin , and invite me into your parlor? 
 You aren t a bit polite." 
 
 "Well, come along then, Hepsey; but the parlor 
 aint just in apple-pie order, as you might say. Things 
 are mussed up a bit." He looked at her suspiciously. 
 
 When they entered the parlor Mrs. Burke gazed 
 about in a critical sort of way. 
 
 "Jonathan Jackson, if you don t get married again 
 before long I don t know what ll become of you," she 
 remarked, as she wrote her name with the end of her 
 
64 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 finger in the dust on the center-table. "Why don t 
 you open the parlor occasionally and let the air in? 
 It smells that musty in here I feel as if I was at- 
 tendin your wife s funeral all over again." 
 
 "Well, of course you know we never did use the 
 parlor much, cept there was a funeral in the family, 
 or you called, or things like that." 
 
 "Thank you; but even so, you might put things 
 away occasionally, and not leave them scattered all 
 over the place." 
 
 "What s the use? I never can find anything when 
 it s where it belongs; but if it s left just where I drop 
 it, I know right where it is when I want it." 
 
 "That s a man s argument. Sakes alive! The 
 least you could do would be to shut your bureau draw 
 ers." 
 
 "What s the use shuttin bureau drawers when 
 you ve got to open em again fore long?" Jonathan 
 asked. "It just makes so much more trouble; and 
 there s trouble enough in this world, anyway." 
 
 "You wouldn t dare let hings go like this when 
 Sarah was livin ." 
 
 "No, Jonathan replied sadly, "but there s some 
 advantages in bein a widower. Of course I don t 
 mean no disrespect to Sarah, but opinions will differ 
 about some things. She d never let me go up the 
 
THE MINIATURE 65 
 
 front stairs without takin my boots off, so as not to 
 soil the carpet; and when she died and the relatives 
 tramped up and down reckless like, I almost felt as 
 if it was wicked. For a fact, I did." 
 
 "Well, I always told Sarah she was a slave to dust; 
 I believe that dust worried her a lot more than her 
 conscience, poor soul. I should think that Mary Mc- 
 Guire would tidy up for you a little bit once in a 
 while." 
 
 "Well, Mary does the best she knows how. But I 
 like her goin better than comin . The fact is, a man 
 of my age can t live alone always, Hepsey. It s a 
 change to live this way, till " 
 
 "Oh, heaven save the mark ! I can t stay here talk- 
 in all day; but I ll tidy up a bit before I go, if you 
 don t mind, Jonathan. You go on with what you call 
 your sewin ." 
 
 "Go ahead, Hepsey. You can do anything you 
 like," he replied, beaming upon her. 
 
 Mrs. Burke opened the blinds and windows, shook 
 up the pillows on the lounge, straightened the furni 
 ture, dusted off the chairs and opened the door to the 
 porch. She made a flying trip to the garden, and re 
 turned with a big bunch of flowers which she placed 
 in a large glass vase on the mantel. Then she hung 
 Jonathan s dressing gown over the back of a chair, 
 
66 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 and put his slippers suggestively near at hand. In a 
 few moments she had transformed the whole appear 
 ance of the room, giving it a look of homelike cozi- 
 ness which had long been foreign to it. 
 
 "There now, Jonathan! That s better, isn t it?" 
 
 Jonathan sighed profoundly as he replied: 
 
 "It certainly is, Hepsey; it certainly is. I wonder 
 why a man can t do that kind of thing like a woman 
 can? He knows somethin s wrong, but he can t tell 
 what it is." 
 
 Hepsey had almost forgotten her errand; but now 
 that her work was done it came back to her with sud 
 den force; so, puckering up her lips and scowling 
 severely at the carpet, she began : 
 
 "The fact is, Jonathan, I didn t come over here to 
 dust the parlor or to jolly you. I ve come to have a 
 confidential talk with you about a matter of great im 
 portance." 
 
 "What is it, Hepsey?" 
 
 "Matrimony." 
 
 Jonathan started eagerly, and colored with self- 
 conscious embarrassment; and after clearing his 
 throat, nervously inquired: 
 
 "Did you think of contemplatin matrimony again, 
 Hepsey? though this aint leap year." 
 
 "I, contemplate matrimony? Oh, land of Gideon, 
 
THE MINIATURE 67 
 
 no. It s about some one else. Don t get scared. I m 
 no kidnapper!" 
 
 "Well, who is it, then?" Jonathan inquired, with a 
 touch of disappointment. 
 
 "My adopted son." 
 
 "You don t say! I ve heard rumors about Max 
 well and Virginia Bascom ; but I didn t take no stock 
 in em, knowin Virginia." 
 
 "Virginia hasn t nothin to do with it." 
 
 "Well, who has then, for land s sake !" 
 
 "I don t know the girl s name; but I saw her pic 
 ture on his mantelpiece yesterday mornin , and I ve 
 had my suspicions for some time." 
 
 "Well, I suppose his marryin aint none of our 
 business anyway, be it?" 
 
 "Yes, it is our business; if he s goin to get mar 
 ried, the rectory s got to be fixed over a whole lot 
 fore it s fit to live in. You know the Senior Warden 
 wont lift his finger, and you ve got to help me do it." 
 
 Jonathan sighed profoundly, knowing from past 
 experience that Hepsey s word carried more weight 
 than all the vestry. 
 
 "I suppose I have, if you say so, Hepsey." 
 
 "Yes sir, you ve got to help me do it. No decent 
 girl is goin into that house as it is, with my consent. 
 It s the worst old rat-trap I ever saw. I ve got the 
 
68 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 key, and I m goin through it this afternoon, and then 
 I m goin to plan what ought to be done." 
 
 "But it seems to me you re venturin some. You 
 don t know they re goin to be married." 
 
 "No, but all the symptoms point that way, and 
 we ve got to be prepared for it." 
 
 "But the people round town seem to think that 
 Virginia has a first mortgage on the rector al 
 ready." 
 
 "No doubt she thinks she has; but it aint true. 
 He s made a blunder, though, not announcin his en 
 gagement, and I m goin to tell him so the first chance 
 I get. I don t see why he should air his private affairs 
 all over the town, but if he don t announce his en 
 gagement before long, Virginia Bascom 11 make an 
 awful row when he does." 
 
 "Yes, and to the best of my knowledge and belief 
 this ll be her fifth row." 
 
 "Well, you meet me at the rectory at two o clock 
 sharp." 
 
 "But we ought to consult the vestry first," the 
 Junior Warden cautioned her. 
 
 "What for, I d like to know?" 
 
 " Cause they are the trustees of the property." 
 
 "Then why don t they tend to the property? The 
 vestry are a lot of " 
 
THE MINIATURE 69 
 
 "Sh! Hepsey, be careful. I ll be there, I ll be 
 there!" 
 
 Mrs. Burke rose and started for the door; but Jon 
 athan called out to her: 
 
 "Hepsey, can t you stay to dinner? I d like awful 
 well to have you. It would seem so nice and home 
 like to see you sittin opposite me at the table." 
 
 "Am I to consider this a proposal of marriage, 
 Jonathan?" 
 
 "Well, I hadn t thought of it in that light; but if 
 you would, I d be mighty thankful." 
 
 But Hepsey was beating her retreat. 
 
 Jonathan stood for a minute or two in the middle 
 of the room and looked very sober. Slowly he took 
 off his coat and put on his dressing gown. Then he 
 sat down, and cautiously put his feet in another chair. 
 Next he lighted a cigar gazing about the room as if 
 his late wife might appear at any moment as an aveng 
 ing deity, and drag him into the kitchen where he be 
 longed. But nothing happened, and he began to feel 
 a realization of his independence. He sat and thought 
 for a long time, and a mighty hunger of the heart 
 overwhelmed him. Before he knew it, a tear or two 
 had fallen on the immaculate carpet; and then, sud 
 denly recollecting himself, he stood up, saying to him 
 self such is the consistency of man : 
 
70 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Sarah was a good soul accordin to her lights; but 
 she s dead, and I must confess I m powerful recon 
 ciled. Hepsey Burke s different. I wonder if " 
 
 But he put he thought away from him with a "get 
 thee behind me" abruptness, and putting on his coat, 
 went out to water the stock. 
 
II 
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 THE MISS 
 
 ana 
 
 M!" Mrs. Burke remarked to Maxwell 
 abruptly one day during supper. "We 
 haven t had a missionary tea since you 
 came, and I think it s high time we did." 
 
 "What sort of a missionary tea do you mean?" 
 the parson inquired. 
 
 "Well," Mrs. Burke responded, "our missionary 
 teas combine different attractions. We get together 
 and look over each other s clothes; that s the first 
 thing; then some one reads a paper reportin how 
 
72 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 things is goin in Zanzibar, or what s doin in Tim- 
 buctoo. Then we look over the old clothes sent in 
 for missionaries, mend em up, and get em ready to 
 send off. Then we have tea and cake. I ve had my 
 misgivin for some time that perhaps we cared more 
 for the tea and cake than we did for the heathen ; but 
 of course I put such a wicked thought aside. If you 
 value your reputation for piety, don t you ever speak 
 of a missionary tea here except in a whisper." 
 
 "But I suppose the tea helps to get people together 
 and be more sociable?" 
 
 "Certainly. The next best thing to religion is a 
 cup of strong tea and a frosted cake, to make us 
 country people friends. Both combined can t be beat. 
 But you ought to see the things that have been sent 
 in this last week for the missionary box. There s a 
 smoking jacket, two pairs of golf-trousers, several 
 pairs of mismated gloves, a wonderful lot of un- 
 darned stockings, bonnets and underclothes to burn, 
 two jackets and a bathin suit. I wonder what peo 
 ple think missionaries are doin most of the time!" 
 
 On the day appointed for the missionary tea the 
 ladies were to assemble at Thunder Cliff at four 
 o clock; and when Maxwell came home, before the 
 advent of the first guest, he seemed somewhat de 
 pressed; and Mrs. Burke inquired: 
 
THE MISSIONARY TEA 73 
 
 "Been makin calls on your parishioners?" 
 
 "Yes, I have made a few visits." 
 
 "Now you must look more cheerful, or somebody ll 
 suspect that you don t always find parish calls the joy 
 of your life." 
 
 "It s so difficult to find subjects of conversation 
 that they are interested in. I simply couldn t draw 
 out Mrs. Snodgrass, for instance." 
 
 "Well, when you ve lived in the country as long as 
 I have, you ll find that the one unfailin subject of 
 interest is symptoms mostly dyspepsy and liver com 
 plaint. If you had known enough to have started 
 right with Elmira Snodgrass, she would have thawed 
 out at once. Elmira is always lookin for trouble as 
 the sparks fly upwards, or thereabouts. She d crawl 
 through a barbed wire fence if she couldn t get at it) 
 any other way. She always chews a pill on principle, 
 and then she calls it a dispensation of Providence, 
 and wonders why she was ever born to be tormented." 
 
 "In that case," laughed Maxwell, "I d better get 
 some medical books and read up on symptoms. By 
 the by, is there any particular program for this mis 
 sionary meeting, Mrs. Burke?" 
 
 "Yes, Virginia Bascom s goin to read a paper 
 called The Christian Mother as a Missionary in her 
 own Household. To be sure, Ginty s no Christian 
 
74 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Mother, or any other kind of a mother; but she s as 
 full of enthusiasm as a shad is of bones. She d bring 
 up any child while you wait, and not charge a cent. 
 There goes the bell, so please excuse me." 
 
 The guests were received by Mrs. Burke. Miss 
 Bascom entered the parlor with a portentous bundle 
 of manuscript under her arm, and greeted Donald 
 with a radiant smile. Pulling a pansy from a bunch 
 in her dress, she adjusted it in his buttonhole with the 
 happy shyness of a young kitten chasing its tail. After 
 the others had assembled, they formed a circle to in 
 spect the clothing which had been sent in. There 
 was a general buzz of conversation. 
 
 As they were busily going through the garments, 
 Virginia remarked, "Are all these things to go to the 
 missionaries at Tien Tsin?" and she adjusted her 
 lorgnette to inspect the heap. 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Burke responded wearily, "and I hope 
 they ll get what comfort they can out of em." 
 
 "You dont seem to be very appreciative, Mrs. 
 Burke," Virginia reproved. 
 
 "Well, I suppose I ought to be satisfied," Hepsey 
 replied. "But it does seem as if most people give to 
 the Lord what they can t use for themselves any 
 longer as they would to a poor relation that s 
 worthy, but not to be coddled by too much charity." 
 
THE MISSIONARY TEA 75; 
 
 "I think these things are quite nice enough for the 
 missionaries," Virginia retorted. "They are thankful 
 for anything." 
 
 "Yes, I know," Mrs. Burke replied calmly. "Mis 
 sionaries and their families have no business to have 
 any feelings that can t be satisfied with second-hand 
 clothes, and no end of good advice on how to spend 
 five cents freely but not extravagantly." 
 
 "But don t you believe in sending them useful 
 things?" Virginia asked loftily. 
 
 "So I do; but I d Hate that word useful if I was 
 a missionary s wife." 
 
 "Mght I inquire," asked Miss Bascom meekly, 
 "what you would send?" 
 
 "Certainly! I d send a twenty-five-cent scent bag, 
 made of silk and filled with patchouli-powder," said 
 Hepsey, squarely. 
 
 "Well," Virginia added devoutly, "satchet bags 
 may be well enough in their place ; but they wont feed 
 missionaries, or clothe them, or save souls, you know, 
 Mrs. Burke." 
 
 "Did anybody say they would?" Mrs. Burke in 
 quired. "I shouldn t particularly care to see mission 
 aries clothed in sachet bags myself; the smell might 
 drive the heathen to desperation. But do we always 
 limit our spending money to necessary clothes and 
 
7 6 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 food? The truth is, we all of us spend anything we 
 like as long as it goes on our backs, or down our 
 throats; but the moment it comes to supportin 
 missionaries we think em worldly and graspin 
 if. they show any ambition beyond second-hand 
 clothes." 
 
 "Do you live up to your preachin , Mrs. Burke?" 
 a little sallow-faced woman inquired from a dark cor 
 ner of the room. 
 
 "Oh, no; it hits me just as hard as anybody else, 
 as Martin Luther said. But I ve got a proposition 
 to make : if you ll take these things you brought, back 
 with you, and wear em for a week just as they are, 
 and play you re the missionaries, I ll take back all 
 I ve said." 
 
 As, however, there was no response to this chal 
 lenge, the box was packed, and the cover nailed down. 
 
 (It is perhaps no proper part of this story to add, 
 that its opening on the other side of the world was 
 attended by the welcome and surprising fragrance of 
 patchouli, emanating from a litle silk sachet secreted 
 among the more workaday gifts.) 
 
 The ladies then adjourned to the front piazza, 
 where the supper was served. 
 
 When the dishes had been cleared away, the guests 
 adjusted their chairs and assumed attitudes of ex- 
 
THE MISSIONARY TEA 77 
 
 pectant attention while Virginia stood up and shyly 
 unrolled her manuscript, with a placid, self-conscious 
 smile on her countenance. She apologized for her 
 youth and inexperience, with a moving glance towards 
 her pastor, and then got down to business. She began 
 with the original and striking remark that it was the 
 chief glory and function of woman to be a home- 
 maker. She continued with something to the effect 
 that the woman who forms the character of her chil 
 dren in the sanctity of the home-life rules the destinies 
 of the world. Then she made a fetching allusion to 
 the "Mother of the Gracchi," and said something 
 about jewels. Nobody knew who the "Gracchi" were, 
 but they supposed that they must be some relatives 
 of Virginia s who lived in Boston. 
 
 She asserted that the modern methods of bringing 
 up children were all wrong. She drew a striking pic 
 ture of the ideal home in which children always stood 
 modestly and reverently by their parents chairs, con 
 sumed with anxiety to be of some service to their eld 
 ers. They were always to be immaculately neat in 
 their attire, and gentle in their ways. The use of 
 slang was quite beneath them. 
 
 These ideal children were always to spend their 
 evenings at home in the perusal of instructive books, 
 and the pursuit of useful knowledge. Then, when 
 
78 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 half-past seven arrived, they were to rise spontane 
 ously and promptly, and bid their parents an affec 
 tionate good-night, and retire to their rooms, where, 
 having said their prayers and recited the golden text, 
 they were to get into bed. 
 
 Portions of Virginia s essay were quite moving. 
 Speaking of the rewards which good mothers reap, 
 in the virtues and graces of their dutiful offspring, she 
 said: 
 
 "What mother does not feel a thrill of exquisite 
 rapture as she fondly gazes into the depths of her 
 baby s eyes and sees there the budding promise of 
 glorious womanhood. What mother does not watch 
 the development of her little son with wondering 
 pride, as she notes his manly, simple ways, his gentle 
 
 reverence, his tender, modest behavior. What moth- 
 er 
 
 Here Virginia came to an abrupt stop, for there 
 was a terrible racket somewhere overhead on the 
 piazza roof; a rope was suddenly dropped over the 
 edge of the eaves, and almost immediately a pair of 
 very immodestly bare legs were lowered into view, 
 followed by the rest of Nickey Burke s person, at 
 tired in his nightshirt. It was the work of a moment 
 for the nimble boy to slide down the rope onto the 
 ground. But, as he landed on his feet, finding himself 
 
THE MISSIONARY TEA 79; 
 
 in the august presence of the missionary circle, he re 
 marked "Gee Whitaker bee s wax!" and prudently 
 took to his heels, and sped around the house as if he 
 had been shot out of a gun. 
 
 Several segments of the circle giggled violently. 
 The essayist, though very red, made a brave effort to 
 ignore the highly indecorous interruption, and so con 
 tinued with trembling tones : 
 
 "What more beautiful and touching thing is there, 
 than the innocent, unsullied modesty of childhood? 
 One might almost say " 
 
 But she never said it, for here again she was forced 
 to pause while another pair of immodest legs ap 
 peared over the eaves, much fatter and shorter than, 
 the preceding pair. These belonged to Nickey s boon- 
 companion, the gentle Oliver Wendell Jones. The 
 rest of O. W. J. followed in due time; and, quite 
 ignorant of what awaited him, he began his wriggling 
 descent. Most unfortunately for him, the hem of 
 his nightshirt caught on a large nail in the eaves of 
 the roof; and after a frantic, fruitless, and fearful 
 effort to disconnect himself, he hung suspended in the 
 breeze for one awful moment, like a painted cherub 
 on a Christmas tree, while his mother, recognizing 
 her offspring, rose to go to his assistance. 
 
 Then there was a frantic yell, a terrible ripping 
 
80 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 sound, and Oliver Wendell was seen to drop to the 
 ground clad in the sleeves and the front breadth of 
 his shirt, while the entire back of it, from the collar 
 down, waved triumphantly aloft from the eaves. 
 Oliver Wendell Jones picked himself up, unhurt, but 
 much frightened, and very angry : presenting much the 
 aspect of a punctured tire. Then suddenly discover 
 ing the proximity of the missionary circle and missing 
 the rear elevation of his shirt about the same time, 
 in the horror and mortification of the moment, he lost 
 his head entirely. Notwithstanding the protests of 
 his pursuing mother, without waiting for his clothes, 
 he fled, "anywhere, anywhere out of the world," 
 bawling with wrath and chagrin. 
 
 The entire circumference of the missionary circle 
 now burst into roars of laughter. His mother quickly 
 overtook and captured Oliver, tying her apron around 
 his neck as a concession to the popular prejudice 
 against "the altogether." The gravity of the mis 
 sionary circle was so thoroughly demoralized that it 
 was impossible to restore order; and Miss Bascom, 
 in the excess of her mortification, stuffed the rest of 
 her manuscript, its eloquent peroration undelivered, 
 into her bag. 
 
 When the last guest had departed, Mrs. Burke 
 proceeded to hunt up Nickey, who was dressed and 
 
NICHOLAS BURKE, WHAT IN THE NAME or CONSCIENCE DOES ALL 
 
 THIS IDIOTIC PERFORMANCE MEAN, I D LIKE TO KNOW?" 
 
THE MISSIONARY TEA 81 
 
 sitting on the top of the corn-crib whittling a stick. 
 His mother began : 
 
 "Nicholas Burke, what in the name of conscience 
 does all this idiotic performance mean, I d like to 
 know?" 
 
 Nickey closed his knife. Gazing serenely down at 
 his mother, he replied: 
 
 "How d I know the blamed missionary push was 
 goin to meet on the front porch, I d like to know? 
 Me and Oliver Wendell was just playin the house 
 was on fire. We d gone to bed in the front room, and 
 then I told Ollie the fire was breakin out all around 
 us, and the sparks was flyin , and the stairs was 
 burned away, and there was no way of scapin but 
 to slide down the rope over the roof. I aint to blame 
 for his night-shirt bein caught on a nail, and bein 
 ripped off him. Maybe the ladies was awful shocked ; 
 but they laughed fit to split their sides just the same. 
 Mr. Maxwell laughed louder than em all." 
 
 Hepsey retired hastily, lest her face should relax 
 its well-assumed severity. 
 
 Maxwell, in the meantime, felt it a part of his duty 
 to console and soothe the ruffled feelings of his zeal 
 ous and fluent parishioner, and to Virginia s pride his 
 offer of escort to Willow Bluff was ample reparation 
 for the untoward interruption of her oratory. She 
 
82 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 delivered into his hands, with sensitive upward glance, 
 the receptacle containing her manuscript, and set a 
 brisk pace, at which she insured the passing of the 
 other guests along the road, making visible her tri 
 umph over circumstance and at the same time obviat 
 ing untimely intrusion of a tete-a-tete conversation. 
 
 "You must have given a great deal of time and 
 study to your subject," remarked Maxwell politely. 
 
 "It is very near to my heart," responded Virginia, 
 in welling tones. "Home-life is, to me, almost a re 
 ligion. Do you not feel, with me, that it is the most 
 valuable of human qualities, Mr. Maxwell?" 
 
 "I do indeed, and one of the most difficult to reduce 
 to a science," she glanced up at him apprehensively, 
 whereupon, lest he seemed to have erred in fact, 
 he added, "as you made us realize in your 
 paper." 
 
 "It is so nice to have your appreciation," she gur 
 gled. "Often I feel it almost futile to try to influ 
 ence our cold parish audiences; their attitude is so 
 stolid, so unimaginative. As you must have realized, 
 in the pulpit, they are so hard to lead into untrodden 
 paths. Let us take the way home by the lane," she 
 added coyly, leading off the road down a sheltered 
 by-way. 
 
 The lane was rough, and the lady, tightly and light- 
 
THE MISSIONARY TEA 83 
 
 ly shod, stumbled neatly and grasped her escort s arm 
 for support and retained it for comfort. 
 
 "What horizons your sermons have spread before 
 us and, yet," she hesitated, "I often wonder, as 
 my eyes wander over the congregation, how many be 
 sides myself, really hear your message, really see 
 what you see." 
 
 Her hand trembled on his arm, and Maxwell was 
 a little at a loss, though anxious not to seem unre 
 sponsive to Virginia s enthusiasm for spiritual vision. 
 
 "I feel that my first attention has to be given to 
 the simpler problems, here in Durford," he replied. 
 "But I am glad if I haven t been dull, in the process." 
 
 "Dull? No indeed how can you say that! To 
 my life you will understand?" (she glanced up with 
 tremulous flutter of eyelids) " you have brought so 
 much helpfulness and and warmth." She sighed 
 eloquently. 
 
 Maxwell was no egotist, and was always prone to 
 see only an impersonal significance in parish compli 
 ments. A more self-conscious subject for confidences 
 would have replied less openly. 
 
 "I am glad very glad. But you must not think 
 that the help has been one-sided. You have seconded 
 my efforts so energetically indeed I doo t know 
 what I could have accomplished without such whole- 
 
84 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 hearted help as you and Mrs. Burke and others have 
 given." 
 
 To the optimistic Virginia the division of the loaves 
 and fishes of hi% personal gratitude was scarcely heed 
 ed. She cherished her own portion, and soon magni 
 fied it to a basketful and soon, again, to a monopoly 
 of the entire supply. As he gave her his hand at the 
 door of Willow Bluff, she was in fit state to invest 
 that common act of friendliness with symbolic signifi 
 cance of a rosy future. 
 
I 
 
 CHAPTER YE 
 
 \m 
 
 MRS. BURKE seemed incapable of sitting still, 
 with folded hands, for any length of time; 
 and when the stress of her attention to house 
 hold work, and her devotion to neighborly good deeds 
 relaxed, she turned to knitting wash-rags as a sports 
 man turns to his gun, or a toper to his cups. She 
 seemed to find more stimulus for thought and more 
 helpful diversion in the production of one wash-rag 
 than most persons find in a trip abroad. 
 
 One day, not very long after the eventful mission- 
 .85 
 
86 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 ary tea, she was sitting in her garden, and knitting 
 more rapidly than usual, as she said to Maxwell : 
 
 "What s been the matter with you these last few 
 weeks? You ve been lookin altogether too sober, 
 and you don t eat nothin to speak of. It must be 
 either liver, or conscience, or heart." 
 
 Secretly, she strongly suspected a cardiac affection, 
 of the romantic variety. She intended to investigate. 
 
 Donald laughed as he replied: 
 
 "Perhaps it s all three together; but I m all right. 
 There s nothing the matter with me. Every man has 
 his blue days, you know." 
 
 "Yes, but the last month you ve had too many; and 
 there must be some reason for it. There s nothin so 
 refreshin as gettin away from your best friends, once 
 in a while. I guess you need a change pinin for 
 the city, maybe. Sakes alive ! I can t see how folks 
 can live that way all crowded up together, like a lot 
 of prisons." 
 
 "You don t care to visit in the city, then?" 
 
 "Not on your life!" 
 
 "But a change is good for everyone. Don t you 
 ever get away from Durford for a few weeks?" 
 
 "Not very often. What with decidin where to go, 
 and fussin to get ready, and shuttin up the house, 
 it s more trouble than its worth. Then there s so 
 
HEPSEY GOES A-FISHING 87 
 
 many things to tend to when you get home." 
 
 "But don t you ever visit relatives?" 
 
 "Not on your life, unless I m subpoena-ed by the 
 coroner: though of course we do get together to cele 
 brate a family funeral or a wedding now and then. 
 Visitin is no joke, I tell you. No sir, I m old enough 
 to know when I m well off, and home s the best place 
 for me. I want my own table, and my own bed when 
 it comes night." She paused, and then remarked med 
 itatively : 
 
 "I went down to visit in New York once." 
 
 "Didn t you enjoy your visit?" Maxwell inquired. 
 "New York s my home-city." 
 
 "Can t say I did, awful much. You see, I was 
 visitin Sally Ramsdale Sally Greenway that was. 
 They were livin in an apartment, ninth floor up. In 
 the first place, I didn t like goin up stairs in the ele 
 vator. I was so scared, I felt as if the end had come, 
 and I was bein jerked to my reward in an iron bird 
 cage with a small kid dressed in brass buttons. When 
 I got into the hall it was about two feet wide and 
 darker than Pharaoh s conscience. It had a string of 
 cells along the side, and one opened into a chimney, 
 and the rest into nothin in particular. The middle 
 cell was a dinin room where we ate when we could 
 find the way to our mouths. Near as I can recollect, 
 
88 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 you got into the parlor through the pantry, back of 
 the servant s room, by jumpin over five trunks. You 
 ought to have seen my room. It looked just like a 
 parlor when you first went in. There was somethin 
 lookin like a cross between an upright piano and 
 writin desk. Sally gave it a twist, and it tumbled 
 out into a folding bed. The first night, I laid awake 
 with my eyes on the foot of that bed expectin it to 
 rise and stand me on my head; but it didn t. You 
 took the book of poems off the center table, gave it a 
 flop, and it was a washstand. Everything seemed to 
 shut up into something else it hadn t ought to. It 
 was a now you see it, and now you don t see it, kind 
 of a room; and I seemed to be foldin and unfoldin 
 most of the time. Then the ceilin was so low that 
 you could hardly get the cover off the soap dish. I 
 felt all the while as if I should smother. My! but 
 I was glad to get home and get a breath of real air." 
 
 Yes," Maxwell replied, "people live more nat 
 ural and healthful lives in the country. The advan 
 tages of the city aren t an unmixed blessing." 
 
 "That s true enough. That s no way to live. Just 
 think of havin no yard but a window box and a fire 
 escape! I d smother! 
 
 "We folks out here in the country aint enjoyia 
 a lot of the refinements of city life; anyhow we get 
 
HEPSEY GOES A-FISHING 89 
 
 along, and the funny part about it is, it aint hard 
 to do, either. In the first place we aint so particular, 
 which helps a lot, and besides, as Jonathan Jackson 
 used to say, there s compensations. I had one look 
 at Fifth Avenue and I m not sayin it wasn t all I 
 had heard it was; but if I had to look at it three 
 hundred and sixty-five days a year I wouldn t trade it 
 for this. 
 
 "Why, some days it rains up here, but I can sit at 
 my window and look down the valley, to where the 
 creek runs through, and way up into the timber, and 
 the sight of all those green things, livin and noddin 
 in the rain is a long ways from being disheartenin , 
 and when the sun shines I can sit out here, in my 
 garden, with my flowers, and watch the boys playin 
 down in the meadow, Bascom s Holsteins grazin 
 over there on the hill, and the air full of the perfume 
 of growin things, they aint got anything like that, 
 in New York." 
 
 For a time Mrs. Burke relapsed into silence, while 
 Maxwell smoked his briar pipe as he lay on the grass 
 near by. She realized that the parson had cleverly 
 side-tracked her original subject of conversation, and 
 as she glanced down at him she shook her head with 
 droll deprecation of his guile. 
 
 When she first accused him of the blues, it was 
 
90 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 true that Maxwell s look had expressed glum depres 
 sion. Now, he was smiling, and, balked of her prey, 
 Mrs. Burke knitted briskly, contemplating other 
 means drawing him from his covert. Her strategy 
 had been too subtle: she would try a frontal at 
 tack. 
 
 "Ever think of gettin married, Mr. Maxwell?" 
 she inquired abruptly. 
 
 For an instant Maxwell colored; but he blew two 
 or three rings of smoke in the air, and then replied 
 carelessly, as he plucked at the grass by his side: 
 
 "Oh, yes : every fellow of my age has fancied him 
 self in love some time or other, I suppose." 
 
 "Yes, it s like measles, or whoopin -cough; every 
 man has to have it sometime; but you haven t an 
 swered my question." 
 
 "Well, suppose I was in love; a man must be pretty 
 conceited to imagine that he could make up to a girl 
 for the sacrifice of bringing her to live in a place like 
 Durford. That sounds horribly rude to Durford, 
 but you wont misunderstand me." 
 
 "No ; I know exactly how you feel ; but the average 
 girl is just dyin to make a great sacrifice for some 
 good-lookin young fellow, all the same." 
 
 "Ah yes; the average girl; but " 
 
 Maxwell s voice trailed off into silence, while he 
 
HEPSEY GOES A-FISHING 91 
 
 affected to gaze stonily into the blue deeps of the sky 
 overhead. 
 
 Hepsey had thought herself a pretty clever fisher 
 man, in her day; evidently, she decided, this particu 
 lar fish was not going to be easy to land. 
 
 "Don t you think a clergyman is better off mar 
 ried?" she asked, presently. 
 
 Donald knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put 
 it in his pocket, clasped his hands across his knees, 
 and smiled thoughtfully for a moment. There was 
 a light in his eyes which was good to see, and a slight 
 trembling of his lips before he ventured to speak. 
 Then he sighed heavily. 
 
 "Yes, I do, on many accounts. But I think that 
 any parson in a place like this ought to know and face 
 all the difficulties of the situation before he comes to 
 a definite decision and marries. Isn t that your own 
 view? You ve had experience of married parsons 
 here: what do you think?" 
 
 "Well, you see the matter is just like this : Every 
 parish wants an unmarried parson; the vestry cause 
 he s cheap, every unmarried woman cause he may be 
 a possible suitor; and it s easier to run him than it 
 is a married man. He may be decent, well-bred and 
 educated. And he comes to a parcel of ignoramuses 
 who think they know ten times as much as he does. 
 
92 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 If he can t earn enough to marry on, and has the good 
 sense to keep out of matrimony, the people talk 
 about his bein a selfish old bachelor who neglects his 
 duty to society. He can t afford to run a tumble 
 down rectory like ours. If in the face of all this 
 he marries, he has to scrimp and stint until it is a 
 question of buyin one egg or two, and lettin his wife 
 worry and work until she s fit for a lunatic asylum. 
 No business corporation, not even a milk-peddlin 
 trust, would treat its men so or expect good work 
 from em. Then the average layman seldom thinks 
 how he can help the parson. His one idea is to be a 
 kicker as long as he can think of anything to kick 
 about. The only man in this parish who never kicks 
 is paralyzed in both legs. Yes sir; the parson of the 
 country parish is the parish goat, as the sayin is." 
 
 Mrs. Burke ceased her tirade, and after a while 
 Maxwell remarked quietly: 
 
 "Mrs. Burke, I m afraid you are a pessimist." 
 "I m no such thing," she retorted hotly. "A pessi 
 mist s a man that sees nothin but the bad, and says 
 there s no help for it and wont raise a hand : he s a 
 proper sour-belly. An optimist s a man that sees 
 nothin but the good, and says everything s all right; 
 let s have a good time. Poor fool! The practical 
 man anyway, the practical woman sees both the 
 
HEPSEY GOES A-FISHING 93 
 
 bad and the good, and says we can make things a 
 whole lot better if we try; let s take off our coats and 
 hustle to beat the cars, and see what happens. The 
 real pessimists are your Bascoms, and that kind: 
 and I guess I pity him more than blame him : he seems 
 as lonesome as a tooth-pick in a cider-barrel." 
 
 "But I thought that Bascom was a wealthy man. 
 He ought to be able to help out, and raise money 
 enough so that the town could keep a parson and his 
 wife comfortably." 
 
 "Sure thing! But the church isn t supported by 
 tight-fisted wealthy people. It s the hard-workin 
 middle class who are willin to turn in and spend their 
 last cent for the church. And don t you get me start 
 ed on Bascom as you value your life. Maybe I ll 
 swear a blue streak before I get through: not but 
 what I suppose that even Bascom has his good points 
 like a porcupine. But a little emery paper on Bas- 
 com s good points wouldn t hurt em very much. 
 They re awful rusty." 
 
 "Oh well ! Money isn t all there is in life," soothed 
 Maxwell, smiling. 
 
 "No, not quite; but it s a mighty good thing to 
 have in the house. You d think so if you had to wear 
 the same hat three summers. I ve got to that time 
 in my life where I can get along very well without 
 
94 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 most of the necessities; but I must have a few lux 
 uries to keep me goinV 
 
 "Then you think that a clergyman ought not to 
 marry and bring his wife to a place like Dur- 
 ford?" 
 
 "I didn t say anything of the sort. If you was to 
 get married I d see you through, if it broke my neck 
 or Bascom s." 
 
 "Do you know, you seem to me a bit illogical?" re 
 marked Maxwell mildly. 
 
 "Don t talk to me about logic ! The strongest argu 
 ment is often the biggest lie. There are times in your 
 life when you have to take your fate in both hands 
 and shut your eyes, and jump in the dark. Maybe 
 you ll land on your feet, and maybe you wont. But 
 you have got to jump just the same. That s matri 
 mony common sense, idiocy, or whatever you 
 choose to call it. ... I never could tell which. It s 
 the only thing to do; and any man with a backbone 
 and a fist wont hesitate very long. If you marry, I ll 
 see you through ; though of course you wont stay here 
 long, anyhow." 
 
 "You re awfully kind, Mrs. Burke," Maxwell re 
 plied, "and I sha n t forget your promise when the 
 time comes for me to take the momentous step. But 
 I think it would be the wisest thing for me to keep 
 
HEPSEY GOES A-FISHING 95 
 
 my heart free for a while; or at any rate, not to get 
 married." 
 
 Mrs. Burke looked down at her rector, and smiled 
 broadly at his clever evasion of the bait she had dan 
 gled before him so persistently. 
 
 "Well, do as you like; but that reminds me that 
 when next you go to town you ll need to get a new 
 glass for that miniature of your sister. You must 
 have dozed off with it in your hands last night and 
 dropped it. I found it this morning on the floor 
 alongside of your chair, with the glass broken." 
 
 She rose triumphantly, as she knitted the last stitch 
 of the wash-rag. "Excuse me I must go and peel 
 the potatoes for dinner." 
 
 "I d offer to contribute to the menu, by catching 
 some fish for you ; but I don t think it s a very good 
 day for fishing, is it, Mrs. Burke?" asked Maxwell 
 innocently. 
 
AS we have seen, when Maxwell began his work 
 in Durford, he was full of the enthusiasm of 
 youth and inexperience. He was, however, 
 heartily supported and encouraged in his efforts by 
 all but Sylvester Bascom. Without being actively and 
 openly hostile, the Senior Warden, under the guise of 
 superior wisdom and a judicial regard for expediency, 
 managed to thwart many of his projects. After each 
 interview with Bascom, Maxwell felt that every bit 
 of life and heart had been pumped out of him, and 
 
 96 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 97 
 
 that he was very young, and very foolish to attempt 
 to make any change in "the good old ways" of the 
 parish, which for so many years had stunted its 
 growth and had acquired the immobility of the laws 
 of the Medes and Persians. 
 
 But there was one parishioner who was ever ready 
 to suggest new ventures to "elevate" the people, and. 
 to play the part of intimate friend and adviser to her 
 good-looking rector, and that was Virginia Bascorru 
 For some unknown reason "the people" did not seem 
 to be acutely anxious thus to be elevated; and most 
 of them seemed to regard Virginia as a harmless idiot 
 with good intentions, but with positive genius for 
 meddling in other people s affairs. Being the only 
 daughter of the Senior Warden, and the leading lady 
 from a social standpoint, she considered that she had 
 a roving commission to set people right at a moment s 
 notice; and there were comparatively few people in 
 Durford on whom she had not experimented in one 
 way or another. She organized a Browning club to 
 keep the factory girls out of the streets evenings, a 
 mothers meeting, an ethical culture society, and a 
 craftman s club, and, as she was made president of 
 each, her time was quite well filled. 
 
 And now in her fertile brain dawned a brilliant idea* 
 which she proceeded to propound to the rector. Max- 
 
98 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 well was non-committal, for he felt the matter was 
 one for feminine judgment. Then she decided to 
 consult Mrs. Burke because, while Hepsey was "not 
 in society," she was recognized as the dominant per 
 sonality among the women of the village, and no par 
 ish enterprise amounted to much unless she approved 
 of it, and was gracious enough to assist. As Vir 
 ginia told Maxwell, "Mrs. Burke has a talent of 
 persuasiveness," and so was "useful in any emer 
 gency." If Mrs. Burke s sympathies could be en 
 listed on behalf of the new scheme it would be bound 
 to succeed. 
 
 As a matter of fact, Mrs. Burke had heard rumors 
 of this new project of Virginia s. It always went 
 against the grain with Hepsey to say: "Don t do it." 
 She was a firm believer in the teaching of experi 
 ence: "Experience does it," was her translation of 
 the classic adage. 
 
 And so one morning found Virginia sitting oppo 
 site Mrs. Burke in the kitchen at Thunder Cliff, knit 
 ting her brows and poking the toe of her boot with 
 the end of her parasol in an absent-minded way. This 
 was symptomatic. 
 
 "Anything on your mind, Virginia? What s up 
 now?" Mrs. Burke began. 
 
 For a moment Virginia hesitated, and then replied: 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 99 
 
 "I am thinking of establishing a day-nursery to 
 care for the babies of working women, Mrs. 
 Burke." 
 
 Mrs. Burke, with hands on her hips, gazed intent 
 ly at her visitor, pushed up her under lip, scowled, 
 and then observed thoughtfully: 
 
 "I wonder some one hasn t thought of that before. 
 Who s to take care of the babies?" 
 
 "Mary Quinn and I, with the assistance of others, 
 of course." 
 
 "Are you sure that you know which is the business 
 end of a nursing-bottle? Could you put a safety-pin 
 where it would do the most good? Could you wash a 
 baby without drownin it?" 
 
 "Of course I have not had much experience," Vir 
 ginia replied in a dignified and lofty way, "but Mary 
 Quinn has, and she could teach me." 
 
 "You re thinkin , I suppose, that a day-nursery 
 would fill a long-felt want, or somethin like that. 
 Who s goin to pay the bills?" 
 
 "Oh, there ought to be enough progressive, philan 
 thropic people in Durford to subscribe the necessary 
 funds, you know. It is to be an auxiliary to the parish 
 work." 
 
 "Hm! What does Mr. Maxwell say?" 
 
 "Well, he said that he supposed that babies were 
 
ioo HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 good things in their way; but he hadn t seen many 
 in the village, and he didn t quite realize what help 
 a day-nursery would be to the working women." 
 
 "That doesn t sound mighty enthusiastic. Maybe 
 we might get the money; but who s to subscribe the 
 babies?" 
 
 "Why, the working women, of course." 
 
 "They can t subscribe em if they haven t got em. 
 There are mighty few kids in this town; and if you 
 really want my candid opinion, I don t think Durford 
 needs a day-nursery any more than it needs an ice 
 box for cherubim. But then of course that doesn t 
 matter much. When you goin to begin ?" 
 
 "Next Monday. We have rented the store where 
 Elkin s grocery used to be, and we are going to fit 
 it up with cribs, and all the most up-to-date conven 
 iences for a sanitary day-nursery." 
 
 "Hm! Well, I ll do all I can to help you, of 
 course. I suppose you ll find babies pushin all over 
 the sidewalk Monday mornin , comin early to avoid 
 the rush. Better get down as early as possible, Vir 
 ginia." 
 
 Virginia departed. 
 
 After the furnishing of the incipient nursery had 
 been completed, and each little crib had a new un- 
 Jbreakable doll whose cheeks were decorated with 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 101 
 
 unsuckable paint, Virginia and Mary Quinn inval 
 uable in undertaking the spadework of all Virginia s 
 parish exploits gave an afternoon tea to which all 
 the subscribers and their friends were invited- But 
 when everything was in readiness for patronage, what 
 few working women there were in Durford, possessed 
 of the right kind of babies, seemed strangely reluct 
 ant to trust their youthful offspring to the tender 
 mercies of Virginia Bascom and Mary Quinn. 
 
 Consequently, the philanthropic movement, started 
 under such favorable patronage, soon reached a criti 
 cal stage in its career, and Mrs. Burke was called in 
 to contribute some practical suggestions. She re 
 sponded to the summons with all due promptness, 
 and when she arrived at the nursery, she smilingly 
 remarked: 
 
 "Hm ! But where are the babies? I thought they 
 would be swarming all over the place like tadpoles 
 in a pooh" 
 
 "Well, you see," Virginia began, her voice quiver 
 ing with disappointment, "Mary Quinn and I have 
 been sitting here four mortal days, and not a single 
 infant has appeared on the scene. I must say that 
 the working women of Durford seem strangely unap- 
 preciative of our efforts to help them." 
 
 "Well," Mrs. Burke responded, "I suppose day-. 
 
102 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 nurseries without babies are as incomplete as an in 
 cubator without eggs. But after all, it hardly seems 
 worth while to go out and snatch nursing infants 
 from their mother s breasts just to fill a long-felt 
 want, does it? Besides, you might get yourself into 
 trouble." 
 
 "I didn t ask you to come and make fun of me," 
 Virginia replied touchily. "I wanted you to make 
 some suggestions to help us out. If we don t get any 
 babies, we might just as well close our doors at once. 
 I should be awfully mortified to have the whole thing 
 a failure, after all we have done, and all the adver 
 tising we have had." 
 
 Mrs. Burke sat down and assumed a very judicial 
 expression. 
 
 "Well, Ginty dear, I m awful sorry for you; I 
 don t doubt you done the best you could. It d be 
 unreasonable to expect you to collect babies like 
 mushrooms in a single night. All true reformers are 
 bound to strike snags, and to suffer because they aint 
 appreciated in their own day and generation. It s 
 only after we are gone and others take our places that 
 the things we do are appreciated. You ll have to 
 resign yourself to fate, Virginia, and wait for what 
 the newspapers call the vindicatin verdict of pros 
 perity. Think of all the people that tried to do 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 103 
 
 things and didn t do em. Now there s the Christian 
 martyrs " 
 
 For some reason Virginia seemed to have a vague 
 suspicion that Hepsey was still making fun of her; 
 and being considerably nettled, she interjected tartly: 
 
 "I m not working for the verdict of posterity, and 
 I don t care a flip for the Christian martyrs. I m 
 trying to conduct a day-nursery, here and now; we 
 have the beds, and the equipment, and some money, 
 and " 
 
 "But you haven t got the babies, Virginia !" 
 
 "Precisely, Mrs. Burke. It s simply a question of 
 babies, now or never. Babies we must have or close 
 our doors. I must confess that I am greatly pained 
 at the lack of interest of the community in our humble 
 efforts to serve them." 
 
 For some time Hepsey sat in silence; then she 
 smiled as if a bright idea occurred to her. 
 
 "Why not borrow a few babies from the mothers in 
 town, Virginia? You see, you might offer to pay a 
 small rental by the hour, or take out a lease which 
 could be renewed when it expired. What is lacking 
 is public confidence in your enterprise. If you and 
 Miss Quinn could be seen in the nursery windows 
 dandlin a baby on each arm, and singin lullabies to 
 em for a few days, it d attract attention, inspire faith 
 
io 4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 in the timid, and public confidence would be restored. 
 The tide of babies d turn your way after a while, 
 and the nursery would prove a howlin success." 
 
 Virginia considered the suggestion and, after deep 
 thought, remarked: 
 
 "What do you think we ought to pay for the loan 
 of a baby per hour, Mrs. Burke?" 
 
 "Well, of course I haven t had much experience 
 rentin babies, as I have been busy payin taxes and 
 insurance on my own for some years; then you see 
 rents have gone up like everything lately. But I 
 should think that ten cents an afternoon ought to be 
 sufficient. I think I might be able to hunt up a baby 
 or two. Mrs. Warren might lend her baby, and per 
 haps Mrs. Fletcher might add her twins. I ll call on 
 them at once, if you say so." 
 
 Virginia looked relieved, and in a voice of grati 
 tude responded: 
 
 "You are really very, very kind." 
 
 "Well, cheer up, Virginia; cheer up. Every cloud 
 has its silver limn ; and I guess we can find some 
 babies somewhere even if we have to advertise in 
 the papers. Now I must be goin , and I ll stop on 
 the way and make a bid for the Fletcher twins. Good- 
 by." 
 
 When Nicholas Burke learned from his mother of 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 105 
 
 the quest of the necessary babies, he started out of 
 his own motion and was the first to arrive on the 
 scene with the spoils of victory, in the shape of the 
 eighteen-months infant of Mrs. Thomas McCarthy, 
 for which he had been obliged to pay twenty-five 
 cents in advance, the infant protesting vigorously with 
 all the power of a well developed pair of lungs. As 
 Nickey delivered the goods, he remarked casually: 
 
 "Say, Miss Virginia, you just take the darn thing 
 quick. He s been howlin to beat the band." 
 
 "Why, Nickey," exclaimed Virginia, entranced, and 
 gingerly possessing herself of James McCarthy, 
 "however did you get him?" 
 
 "His ma wouldn t let me have him at first; and it 
 took an awful lot of jollyin to bring her round. Of 
 course I didn t mean to tell no lies, but I said you 
 was awful fond of kids. I said that if you only had 
 Jimmy, it would give the nursery a dandy send-off, 
 cause she was so well known, and Mr. McCarthy 
 was such a prominent citizen. When she saw me 
 cough up a quarter and play with it right under her 
 nose, I could see she was givin in; and she says to 
 me, Nickey, you can take him just this once. I d like 
 to help the good cause along, and Miss Bascom, she 
 means well. Ma s gettin after the Fletcher twins 
 for you." 
 
io6 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 James McCarthy was welcomed with open arms, 
 was washed and dressed in the most approved anti 
 septic manner; his gums were swabed with boracic 
 acid, and he was fed from a sterilized bottle on Pas 
 teurized milk, and tucked up in a crib with carbolized 
 sheets, and placed close to the window where he 
 could bask in actinic rays, and inhale ozone to his 
 heart s content. Thus the passer-by could see at a 
 glance that the good work had begun to bear fruit. 
 
 Mrs. Burke managed to get hold of the Fletcher 
 twins, and as they both howled lustily in unison, all 
 the time, they added much to the natural domesticity 
 of the scene and seemed to invite further patronage, 
 like barkers at a side-show. Mrs. Warren was also 
 persuaded. 
 
 Although the village was thoroughly canvassed, 
 Miss Bascom was obliged to content herself with the 
 McCarthy baby and the Fletcher twins, and the War 
 ren baby, until, one morning, a colored woman ap 
 peared with a bundle in her arms. As she was the 
 first voluntary contributor of live stock, she was 
 warmly welcomed, and a great fuss made over the 
 tiny black infant which gradually emerged from the 
 folds of an old shawl "like a cuckoo out of its 
 cocoon," as Mary Quinn remarked. This, of course, 
 was very nice and encouraging, but most unfortun- 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 107 
 
 ately, when night came, the mother did not appear 
 to claim her progeny, nor did she ever turn up again. 
 Of course it was a mere oversight on her part, but 
 Virginia was much disturbed, for, to her very great 
 embarrassment, she found herself the undisputed pos 
 sessor of a coal black baby. She was horrified beyond 
 measure, and sent at once for Mrs. Burke. 
 
 "What shall I do, what shall I do, Mrs. Burke?" 
 she cried. Mrs. Burke gazed musingly at the writh 
 ing black blot on the white and rose blanket, and sug 
 gested : 
 
 "Pity you couldn t adopt it, Virginia. You always 
 loved children." 
 
 "Adopt it!" Virginia screamed hysterically. "What 
 in the world can you be thinking of?" 
 
 "Well, I can t think of anything else, unless I can 
 persuade Andy Johnston, the colored man on the 
 farm, to adopt it. He wouldn t mind its complexion 
 as much as you seem to." 
 
 Virginia brightened considerably at this suggestion, 
 exclaiming excitedly : 
 
 "Oh Mrs. Burke, do you really think you could?" 
 
 "Well, I don t know. Perhaps so. At any rate, 
 if we offer to help pay the extra expense, Mrs. John 
 ston might bring the baby up as her own. Then they 
 can name it Virginia Bascom Johnston, you see." 
 
io8 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Virginia bit her lip, but she managed to control her 
 temper as she exclaimed quite cheerfully: 
 
 "Mrs. Burke, you are so very kind. You are al 
 ways helping somebody out of a scrape. 
 
 "Don t overpraise me, Virginia. My head s easily 
 turned. The teachin s of experience are hard but I 
 guess they re best in the end. Well, send the poor 
 little imp of darkness round to me to-night, and I ll 
 see that it has good care." 
 
 As a matter of fact, Hepsey had qualms of con 
 science as to whether she should not, at the outset, 
 have discouraged the whole baby project; experience 
 threatened to give its lesson by pretty hard knocks, 
 on this occasion. 
 
 For though the immediate problem was thus easily 
 solved, others presented themselves to vex the phil 
 anthropic Virginia. 
 
 When on the tenth day the rental for the Warren 
 baby and the Fletcher twins fell due, and the lease of 
 James McCarthy expired without privilege of re 
 newal, the finances of the nursery were at a very low 
 ebb. It certainly did not help matters much when, 
 towards night, Mary Quinn called Virginia s attention 
 to the fact that there were unmistakable signs of a 
 bad rash on the faces of the twins, and very suspicious 
 spots on the cheeks of the Warren baby. Even the 
 
AN ICEBOX FOR CHERUBIM 109 
 
 antiseptic James McCarthy blushed like a boiled lob 
 ster, and went hopelessly back on his sterilized char 
 acter. Of course the only thing to be done was to 
 send at once for the doctor, and for the mothers of 
 the respective infants. When the doctor arrived he 
 pronounced the trouble to be measles; and when the 
 mothers made their appearance, Virginia learned 
 something of the unsuspected resources of the Eng 
 lish language served hot from the tongues of three 
 frightened and irate women. Finally the floor was 
 cleared, and the place closed up for disinfection. 
 
 Just before she left, Virginia dropped into a chair 
 and wept, quite oblivious of the well-meant consola 
 tions of Mary Quinn, sometime co-partner in "The 
 Durford Day-Nursery for the Children of Working 
 Women." 
 
 "We ve done the very best we could, Miss Bascom; 
 and it certainly isn t our fault that the venture turned 
 out badly. Poor babies !" 
 
 At this the sobbing Virginia was roused to one last 
 protest: 
 
 "Mary Quinn, if ever you say another word to me 
 about babies, I ll have you arrested. I just hate 
 babies, and and everything! Why, there comes Mr. 
 Maxwell ! Say, Mary, you just run and get me a wet 
 towel to wipe my face with, while I hunt for my 
 
no HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 combs and do up my back hair. And then if you 
 wouldn t mind vanishing for a while I m sure you 
 understand for if ever I needed spiritual consola^ 
 tion and the help of the church, it is now, this min- ? 
 ute." 
 
HB 
 
 FEW weeks after Donald s conversational 
 duel with Mrs. Burke he started on a six- 
 weeks vacation, which he had certainly 
 earned; and as he busied himself with his packing, 
 Hepsey assisting, he announced: 
 
 "When I come back, Mrs. Burke, I probably shall 
 not come alone." 
 
 He was strapping up his suit-case when he made 
 this rather startling announcement, and the effect 
 seemed to send the blood to his head. Mrs. Burke 
 
 in 
 
ii2 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 did not seem to notice his confusion as she remarked 
 calmly : 
 
 "Hm ! That s a good thing. Your grandmother 
 can have the room next to yours, and we ll do all we 
 can to make the old lady comfortable. I m sure she ll 
 be a great comfort to you, though she ll get a bit 
 lonesome at times, unless she s active on her feet. 5 
 
 Donald laughed, as he blushed more furiously and 
 stuttered: 
 
 "No, I am not going to bring my grandmother 
 here, and I strongly suspect that you know what I 
 mean. I m going to be married." 
 
 "So you are going to get married, are you?" Hep- 
 sey remarked with due amazement, as if the suspicion 
 of the fact had never entered her head before. 
 "Well, I am mighty glad of it. I only wish that 1 
 was goin to be present to give you away. Yes, I m 
 mighty glad. She ll make a new man of you up here, 
 so long as she isn t a new woman." 
 
 "No, not in the slang sense of the word; although 
 I think you will find her very capable, and I hope 
 with all my heart that you ll like her." 
 
 "I m sure I shall. The question is whether she ll 
 like me." 
 
 Hepsey Burke looked rather sober for a moment, 
 and Donald instantly asserted: 
 
THE RECTORY 113 
 
 "She can t help liking you." 
 
 "We-ell now, I could mention quite a number of 
 people who find it as easy as rolling off a log to dls- 
 like me. But that doesn t matter much. I have found 
 it a pretty good plan not to expect a great deal of 
 adoration, and to be mighty grateful for the little 
 you get. Be sure you let me know when to expect 
 you and your grandmother back." 
 
 "Most certainly I shall," he laughed. "It witf be 
 in about six weeks, you know. Good-by, and thank 
 you a thousand times for all your kindness to me." 
 
 There was considerable moisture in Hepsey s eyes 
 as she stood and watched Maxwell drive down the 
 road. Then wiping her eyes furtively with one cor 
 ner of her apron she remarked to herself: 
 
 "Well, I suppose I am glad, mighty glad; but 
 somehow it isn t the jolliest thing in the world to 
 have one s friends get married. They are never the 
 same again; and in ten times out of six the lady in the 
 case is jealous of her husband s friends, and tries to 
 make trouble. It takes a lady saint to share her 
 husband s interests with anybody, and maybe she aint 
 to blame. Well, the next thing in order is to fix up 
 the rectory in six weeks. The best way to repair that 
 thing is with a match and some real good kerosene 
 and a few shavings; however, we ll have to do the 
 
ii4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 best we can. I think I ll set Jonathan Jackson to 
 work this afternoon, and go around and interview the 
 vestry myself." 
 
 Jonathan proved resignedly obedient to Hepsey s 
 demands, but the vestry blustered and scolded, be 
 cause they had not been consulted in the matter, until 
 Hepsey said she would be glad to receive any contri 
 bution they might choose to offer; then they relapsed 
 into innocuous desuetude and talked crops. 
 
 As soon as the repairs were well under way, the 
 whole town was wild with gossip about Maxwell and 
 Miss Bascom. If he were going to occupy the rectory, 
 the necessary inference was that he was going to be 
 married, as he surely would not contemplate keeping 
 bachelor s hall by himself. At last Virginia had at 
 tained the height of her ambition and captured the 
 rector! Consequently she was the center of interest 
 in every social gathering, although, as the engagement 
 had not been formally announced, no one felt at lib 
 erty to congratulate her. To any tentative and in 
 sinuating advances in this direction Virginia replied by 
 non-committal smiles, capable of almost any interpre 
 tation; and the seeker after information was none the 
 wiser. 
 
 Mrs. Roscoe- Jones, by virtue of her long intimacy 
 with Hepsey and her assured social position in Dur- 
 
THE RECTORY 115) 
 
 ford s thirty gentry, felt that she was entitled to some 
 definite information ; and so, as they walked back from 
 church one Wednesday afternoon, she remarked: 
 
 "I hear that the parish is going to repair the rec 
 tory, and that you are taking a great interest in it. 
 You must be on very intimate terms with Mr. Bascom 
 and the vestry!" 
 
 "Well, not exactly. Bascom and I haven t held 
 hands in the dark for some time; but I am going to 
 do what I can to get the house in order for Mr. 
 Maxwell." 
 
 "I wonder where the money is coming from to com 
 plete the work? It seems to me that the whole par 
 ish ought to be informed about the matter, and share 
 in the work; but I suppose Mr. Bascom s shouldering 
 it all, since there s been no effort to raise money by 
 having a fair." 
 
 "I really don t know much about it as yet, Sarah. 
 Of course Bascom s charitable work is mostly done 
 in secret, so that nobody ever finds it out. He is a 
 modest man and wouldn t like to be caught in the act 
 of signing a check for anybody else. It might seem 
 showy." 
 
 "Yes, I understand," Mrs. Roscoe-Jones retorted 
 dryly; "but under the cirumstances, that is " 
 
1 1 6 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Under what circumstances?" Mrs. Burke inquired 
 quickly. 
 
 "Oh, considering that Mr. Bascom is Virginia s 
 father and would want to make her comfortable, you 
 know " 
 
 "No, I don t know. I m awful stupid about some 
 things. You must have discovered that before." 
 
 "Now Hepsey, what is the use of beating around 
 the bush like this ? You must know the common gos 
 sip of the town, and you must be in Mr. Maxwell s 
 confidence. What shall I say when people ask me if 
 he is engaged to Virginia Bascom?" 
 
 "Tell em you don t know a blessed thing about it. 
 What else can you tell em? You might tell em that 
 you tried to pump me and the pump wouldn t work 
 cause it needed packin ." 
 
 After this, Mrs. Roscoe-Jones felt that there was 
 nothing left for her to do but retire from the scene; 
 so she crossed the road. 
 
 When Mrs. Burke began the actual work on the 
 rectory she quickly realized what she had to cope 
 with. The workmen of Durford had a pleasing habit 
 of accepting all offers of work, and promising any 
 thing, and making a start so as to get the job; and 
 then, having upset the whole premises, they promtly 
 "lit out" for parts unknown in order to get another 
 
THE RECTORY 117 
 
 job, and no mortal knew when they would return. It 
 always seemed promising and hopeful to see a labor 
 ing man arrive in his overalls with his dinner-pail and 
 tools at seven ; but when two hours later he had van 
 ished, not to return, it was a bit discouraging. Mrs. 
 Burke was not in a very good humor when, arriving 
 at the rectory, she met Tom Snyder the plumber, at 
 ten-thirty, walking briskly away from his job. She 
 planted herself squarely across the walk and began : 
 
 "Good morning, Thomas; where are you going, if 
 I may ask?" 
 
 "I am going back for my tools, Mrs. Burke." 
 
 "Excuse me, Thomas, but you were never more 
 mistaken in your Ife. You put the kitchen pipes out 
 of business two weeks ago, and you must have been 
 goin back for your tools ever since. I suppose you re 
 chargin me by the hour for goin backwards." 
 
 Thomas looked sheepish and scratched his head 
 with his dirty fingers. 
 
 "No, but I have to finish a little job I begun for 
 Elias Warden on the hill. I ll be back again right 
 away." 
 
 "None of that, Thomas. You re goin back to the 
 rectory with me now, and if the job isn t finished by 
 six o clock, you ll never get your hands on it again." 
 
 The crestfallen Thomas reluctantly turned around 
 
n 8 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 and accompanied Hepsey back to the rectory and fin 
 ished his work in half an hour. 
 
 After much trial and tribulation the rectory was 
 duly repaired, replastered, and papered. The grass 
 had been cut; the bushes were trimmed; and the house 
 had been painted. Then Mrs. Burke obtained a hay 
 rack with a team, and taking Nickey and Jonathan 
 Jackson with her, made a tour of the parish asking 
 for such furniture as individual parishioners were will 
 ing to give. Late in the afternoon she arrived at the 
 rectory with a very large load, and the next day Jon 
 athan was made to set to work with his tools, and she 
 started in with some paint and varnish, and the result 
 seemed eminently satisfactory to her, even though 
 her hands were stained, she had had no dinner, and 
 her hair was stuck to her head here and there in shiny 
 spots. As they were leaving the house to return 
 home for supper, she scowled severely at Jonathan as 
 she remarked : 
 
 "Jonathan, I do believe you ve got more red paint 
 on the top of your head than you left on the kitchen 
 chairs. Do for mercy sake wash the end of your nose. 
 I don t care to be seen comin out of here with you 
 lookin like that," she added scathingly. 
 
 After that, it was, as Mrs. Burke remarked, just 
 fun to finish the rectory; and though so much had 
 
THE RECTORY 119 
 
 been given by the people of the parish, there were 
 many new pieces of furniture delivered, for which no 
 one could account. As neither Mr. Bascom nor Miss 
 Bascom had sent anything, and as neither had ap 
 peared on the scene, excitement was at fever heat. 
 Rumor had it that Virginia had gone to the city for 
 a week or so, to buy her trousseau. Presently the re 
 port circulated that Maxwell was going to bring his 
 bride back with him when he returned from his vaca 
 tion. 
 
 The day before the one set for Maxwell s arrival 
 Mrs. Burke confessed the truth, and suggested that 
 the rectory be stocked with provisions, so that the 
 bride and groom should have something to eat when 
 they first got home. The idea seemd to please the 
 parish, and provisions began to arrive and were placed 
 in the cellar, or on the newly painted pantry shelves, 
 or in the neat cupboards. Mrs. Talbot sent a bushel 
 of potatoes, Mrs. Peterson a pan of soda biscuit, 
 Mrs. Andrews two loaves of bread; Mrs. Squires do 
 nated a pan of soda biscuit, Mrs. Johnson some frost 
 ed cake, and Mrs. Marlow two bushels of apples. 
 Mrs. Hurd sent a pan of soda biscuit, Mrs. Waldorf 
 three dozen eggs, and a sack of flour; Mrs. 
 Freyburg sent a pan of soda biscuit, Mrs. Jones 
 a boiled ham, Mrs. Orchardson two bushels 
 
120 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 of turnips and half a pan of soda biscuit. 
 
 Mrs. Burke received the provisions as they arrived, 
 and put them where they belonged. Just about sup 
 per time Mrs. Loomis came with a large bundle under 
 her arm and remarked to Hepsey : 
 
 "I thought I d bring something nobody else would 
 think of something out of the ordinary that perhaps 
 Mr. and Mrs. Maxwell would relish." 
 
 "I m sure that was real thoughtful of you, Mrs. 
 Loomis," Hepsey replied. "What have you got?" 
 
 "Well," Mrs. Loomis responded, "I thought I d 
 bring em two pans of my nice fresh soda biscuit." 
 
 Mrs. Burke kept her face straight, and responded 
 cheerfully : 
 
 "That was awful nice of you, Mrs. Loomis." 
 
 "Oh, that s all right. And if you want any more, 
 just let me know." 
 
 Finally, when the door was closed on the last con 
 tributor, Mrs. Burke dropped into a chair and called: 
 
 "Jonathan Jackson, come here quick." 
 
 Jonathan responded promptly, and anxiously in 
 quired : 
 
 "Hepsey, be you ill?" 
 
 "No, I m not sick; but we have ten pans of soda 
 biscuit. They are in the pantry, down cellar, in the 
 woodshed, on the parlor table. For mercy s sake 
 
THE RECTORY 12* 
 
 take eight pans out to the chickens or stick em on 
 the picket fence. I just loathe soda biscuit; and if 
 any more come I shall throw em at the head of the 
 woman that brings em." 
 
NEXT morning, when Nickey brought up the 
 mail, Mrs. Burke looked anxiously over her 
 letters until she came to the one she was ex 
 pecting. She read it in silence. 
 
 The gist of the matter was that Maxwell had been 
 married to the nicest girl in the world, and was look 
 ing forward to having Mrs. Burke meet her, and to 
 have his wife know the woman who had been so su 
 premely good to him in the parish. He closed by in- 
 forming her that they were to return the next day at 
 
 122 
 
THE BRIDE S ARRIVAL 123 
 
 five P. M., and if it were not asking too much, he 
 hoped that she would take them in for a few days 
 until they could find quarters elsewhere. The letter 
 was countersigned by a pretty little plea for friend 
 ship from "Mrs. Betty." 
 
 Mrs. Burke replaced the letter and murmured to 
 herself, smiling: 
 
 "Poor little dear! Of course they could come and 
 Stay as long as they pleasec ; but as the rectory is in 
 order, I think that I ll meet them at the depot, and 
 take them there direct. They ll be much happier alone 
 by themselves from the start. I ll have supper ready 
 for em, and cook the chickens while they re unpackin 
 their trunks." 
 
 As Mrs. Burke thought it best to maintain a dis 
 creet silence as to the time of their arrival, there was 
 no one but herself to meet them at the station when 
 the train pulled in. As Maxwell presented his wife 
 to Mrs. Burke, Hepsey took the girl s two hands in 
 hers and kissed her heartily, and then, looking at her 
 keenly as the bride blushed under her searching gaze, 
 she remarked: 
 
 "You re a dreadful disappointment, Mrs. Maxwell. 
 I m afraid it ll take me a long time to get over it." 
 
 "I am horribly sorry to disappoint you so, Mrs. 
 Burke." 
 
i2 4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Maxwell laughed, while Mrs. Betty looked puz 
 zled. 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Burke continued, "you re a dreadful 
 disappointment. Your picture isn t half as sweet as 
 you are." Then turning to Maxwell, she said : 
 
 "Why didn t you tell me? Who taught you to 
 pick out just the right sort of wife, I d like to 
 know?" 
 
 "She did!" Maxwell replied, pointing delightedly 
 to the young woman, who was still smiling and blush 
 ing under Hepsey s inspection. 
 
 "But Mrs. Burke," Mrs. Betty interposed, "can t 
 you give me a little credit for picking out Donald, 
 as you say?" 
 
 "Yes ; Mr. Maxwell s pretty fine, though I wouldn t 
 want to have you tell him so, for anything. But I 
 know, because Durford is calculated to test a man s 
 mettle, if any place ever was. Now Mrs. Betty, if 
 that s what I m to call you, if you ll get into the 
 wagon we ll drive home and have some supper. You 
 must be most famished by this time, if you stop 
 thinkin about Mr. Maxwell long enough to have an 
 appetite. I suppose that we might have had a com 
 mittee of the vestry down here to bid you welcome to 
 Durford; and Nickey suggested the village band and 
 some hot air balloons, and that the boys of the parish 
 
THE BRIDE S ARRIVAL 125 
 
 should pull the carriage up to the house after they d 
 presented you with a magnificent bouquet; but I 
 thought you d just like to slip m unnoticed and get 
 acquainted with your parishioners one at a time. It d 
 be simply awful to have a whole bunch of em thrown 
 at your head at once; and as for the whole vestry 
 well, never mind." 
 
 They got into the "democrat" and started out at a 
 smart trot, but when they came to the road which 
 turned toward Thunder Cliff, Mrs. Burke drove 
 straight across the green. 
 
 "Why, where are you going, Mrs. Burke?" Max 
 well exclaimed. 
 
 "Well, I thought that maybe Mrs. Betty would like 
 to get a sight of the town before we went home." 
 
 When they came to the rectory and turned into the 
 yard, the wonderful transformation dawned on Max 
 well. 
 
 "My gracious, what a change ! It s perfectly mar 
 velous," he exclaimed. "Why Mrs. Burke, I believe 
 you ve brought us here to live 1" 
 
 "Right you are, my friend. This is where you be 
 long." 
 
 "Well, you certainly do beat the Dutch. Who is 
 responsible for all this, I d like to know? But of 
 course it s you." 
 
126 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Well, I had a hand in it, but so did the whole 
 parish. Now walk right in and make yourselves at 
 home." 
 
 Mrs. Burke enjoyed to the full Maxwell s surprise 
 and delight, as he and Mrs. Betty explored the house 
 like a couple of very enthusiastic children. When 
 they got into the china closet and Mrs. Betty found 
 a silver tea-ball she exclaimed rapturously : 
 
 "Look here, Donald ! Did you ever see the like of 
 this? Here is a regular tea-ball. We will have tea 
 every afternoon at four, and Mrs. Burke will be our 
 guest. How perfectly delightful." 
 
 This remark seemed to please Hepsey mightily, as 
 she exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, my, no ! Do you want to spoil my nervous 
 system ? We are not given much to tea-balls in Dur- 
 ford. We consider ourselves lucky if we get a plain 
 old-fashioned pot. Now you get fixed up," she di 
 rected, "while I get supper ready, and I ll stay just 
 this time, if you ll let me, and then if you can stand 
 it, perhaps you ll ask me again." 
 
 Soon they sat down to a little table covered with 
 spotless linen and a pretty set of white china with 
 gold bands. Maxwell did not say much ; he was still 
 too surprised and delighted. 
 
 The broiled chickens and the browned potato balls 
 

 1 
 
THE BRIDE S ARRIVAL 127 
 
 were placed before Maxwell, who faced Mrs. Betty 
 Hepsey sitting between them. 
 
 "Now this is what I call rich," Maxwell exclaimed 
 as he carved. "I hadn t the slightest suspicion that 
 we were to come here and find all these luxuries." 
 
 "However did the house get furnished?" chimed in 
 Mrs. Betty. 
 
 "Oh well," Mrs. Burke replied, "I always believe 
 that two young married people should start out by 
 themselves, you know; and then if they get into a 
 family row it wont scandalize the parish. The only 
 new thing about the furnishings is paint and varnish. 
 I drove around and held up the parish, and made 
 them stand and deliver the goods, and Jonathan Jack 
 son and I touched it up a little; that s all." 
 
 "We ought to acknowledge each gift personally," 
 Maxwell said. "You must tell us who s given what." 
 
 "Oh, no you wont. When I took these things away 
 from their owners by force, I acknowledged them in 
 the politest way possible, so as to save you the 
 trouble. You re not supposed to know where a thing 
 came from." 
 
 "But there must have been a lot of money spent on 
 the rectory to get it into shape," Maxwell asserted, 
 "Where did it all come from?" 
 
 Mrs. Burke grinned with amusement. 
 
128 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Why, can t you guess? Of course it was that 
 merry-hearted, generous old Senior Warden of yours. 
 W T ho else could it be? If there is anything you need, 
 just let us know." 
 
 "But the house seems to be very completely fur 
 nished as it is." 
 
 "No, not yet. If you look around you ll see lots 
 of things that aren t here." 
 
 Mrs. Betty quite raved over the salad, made of 
 lettuce, oranges, walnuts and a mayonnaise dressing. 
 Then there came ice cream and chocolate sauce, fol 
 lowed by black coffee. 
 
 "This is quite too much, Mrs. Burke. You must 
 be a superb cook. I am horribly afraid you ll have 
 spoiled Donald, so that my cooking will seem very 
 tame to him," Mrs. Betty remarked. 
 
 "Well, never mind, Mrs. Betty. If worst comes 
 to worst there are seven pans of soda biscuit secreted 
 around the premises somewhere; so don t be discour 
 aged. There are lots of things you can do with a 
 soda biscuit, if you know how. Now we ll just clear 
 the table, and wash the dishes, and put things away." 
 
 When about nine o clock she arose to go, Maxwell 
 took both Hepsey s hands in his and said quietly: 
 
 "Mrs. Burke, I m more indebted to you than I can 
 possibly say, for all you have done for us. I wish I 
 
THE BRIDE S ARRIVAL 1 29 
 
 knew how to thank you properly, but I don t." 
 
 "Oh, never mind that," Mrs. Burke replied, a mist 
 gathering in her eyes, "it s been lots of fun, and if 
 you re satisfied I m more than pleased." Then, put 
 ting her arm around Mrs. Betty s waist, she con 
 tinued : 
 
 "Remember that we re not payin this nice little 
 wife of yours to do parish work, and if people inter 
 fere with her you just tell em to go to Thunder Cliff. 
 Good-by." 
 
 She was turning away when suddenly she stopped, 
 an expression of horror on her face: 
 
 "My! think of that now! This was a bride s din 
 ner-party, and I put yellow flowers on the table, in 
 stead of white! What d city folks say to that!" 
 
OTGINM 
 
 MRS. BETTY soon succeeded in winning a 
 place for herself in the hearts of her par 
 ishioners, and those who called to look over 
 her "clothes," and see if she was going to "put on 
 airs" as a city woman, called again because they really 
 liked her. She returned the calls with equal interest, 
 and soon had her part of the parish organization well 
 in hand. 
 
 Maxwell s choice was, in fact, heartily approved 
 except by Virginia Bascom and the Senior Warden. 
 
 130 
 
VIRGINIA S HIGH HORSE 131 
 
 The former took the opportunity to leave cards on 
 an afternoon when all Durford was busily welcoming 
 Betty at a tea; and was "not at home" when Betty 
 duly returned the call. Virginia was also careful not 
 to "see" either Betty or her husband if, by any 
 chance, they passed her when in town. 
 
 Of all of which manoeuvres Betty and Donald re 
 mained apparently sublimely unconscious. 
 
 As a means of making some return for the good- 
 hearted generosity and hospitality of the inhabitants, 
 represented by the furniture at the rectory and many 
 tea-parties under various roof-trees, Mrs. Maxwell 
 persuaded her husband that they should give a parish 
 party. 
 
 So invitations were issued broadcast, and Mrs. 
 Burke was asked to scan the lists, lest anyone be 
 omitted. China sufficient for the occasion was sup 
 plemented by Hepsey Burke and Jonathan Jackson, 
 and Nickey laid his invaluable services under con 
 tribution to fetch and carry organizing a corps of 
 helpers. 
 
 The whole adult village, at least the feminine 
 portion of it, young and old, presented themselves 
 at the party, dressed in their best bibs and tuckers, 
 amusing themselves outdoors at various improvised 
 games, under the genial generalship of their host; 
 
132 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 and regaling themselves within at the tea-tables pre 
 sided over by Mrs. Betty, whose pride it was to have 
 prepared with her own hands, assisted by the inde 
 fatigable Hepsey, all the cakes and preserves and 
 other confections provided for the occasion. The 
 whole party was one whole-hearted, simply convivial 
 gathering with but a single note to mar it; and who 
 knows whether the rector, and still less the rector s 
 wife, would have noticed it, but for Hepsey Burke s 
 subsequent "boiling over?" 
 
 When the games and feast were at full swing, Vir 
 ginia Bascom s loud-voiced automobile drove up, and 
 the door-bell pealed. The guests ceased chattering 
 and the little maid, hired for the occasion, hurried 
 from the tea-cups to answer the haughty summons. 
 Through the silence in the tea-room, produced by the 
 overpowering clatter of the bell, the voice of the lit 
 tle maid, quite too familiar for the-proper formal 
 ity of the occasion, in Virginia s opinion, was heard 
 to pipe out cheerily: 
 
 "Come right in, Miss Virginia; the folks has eat 
 most all the victuals but I guess Mrs. Maxwell 11 
 find ye some." 
 
 "Please announce Miss Virginia Bascom ," droned 
 the lady, ignoring the untoward levity of the now 
 cowering maid, and followed her to the door of the 
 
VIRGINIA S HIGH HORSE 133 
 
 room full of guests, where she paused impressively. 
 
 "Mrs. Bascom," called the confused maid, through 
 the solemn silence, as all eyes turned towards the 
 door, "here s, this is, I mean Miss Virginia says 
 
 Miss Virginia Maxwell " After which confusing 
 
 and somewhat embarrassing announcement the maid 
 summarily fled to the kitchen, and left Virginia to 
 her own devices. 
 
 Betty at once came forward, and quite ignoring the 
 error, smiled a pleasant welcome. 
 
 "Miss Bascom, it is very nice to know you at last. 
 We have been so unlucky, have we not?" 
 
 Virginia advanced rustling, and gave Betty a frigid 
 finger-tip, held shoulder-high, and cast a collective 
 stare at hostess and guests through her lorgnette, 
 bowing to Maxwell and ignoring his proffered hand 
 shake. 
 
 There was an awkward pause. For once even 
 Betty-the-self-possessed was at a loss for the neces 
 sary tactics. 
 
 A hearty voice soon filled the empty spaces : "Hello 
 there, Ginty; I always did say those auto s was a 
 poor imitation of a street-car; when they get balky 
 and leave you sticking in the road-side and make you 
 behind-time, you can t so much as get your Tare back 
 and walk. None but royalty, duchesses, and the four- 
 
i 3 4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 hundred can afford to risk losing their cup o tea in 
 them things." 
 
 There was a general laugh at Hepsey s sally, and 
 conversation again resumed its busy buzzing, and 
 Virginia was obliged to realize that her entry had been 
 something of a frost. 
 
 She spent some minutes drawing off her gloves, 
 sipped twice at a cup of tea, and nibbled once at a 
 cake; spent several more minutes getting her hands 
 back into her gloves, fixed a good-by smile on her 
 face, murmured some unintelligible words to her 
 hostess, and departed, annoyed to realize that the 
 engine of the awaiting car kept running to empha 
 size her comet-like passage through so mixed an as- 
 embly had become quite inaudible to the company. 
 
 "Such an insult!" stormed the lady, as she returned 
 home in high dudgeon. "I might have been a nobody, 
 the way they treated me. Dad shall hear of this; 
 and I ll see that he puts them where they belong. The 
 impudence! And after his t-treating me s-s-so!" she 
 wept with chagrin, and malice that betokened no good 
 to the rector and his little wife. 
 
 Even so, it is doubtful if the host and hostess would 
 have permitted themselves to notice the supercilious 
 rudeness of the leader of Durford "Society," had 
 Hepsey been able to curb her indignation. 
 
VIRGINIA S HIGH HORSE 133 
 
 As she and Betty and the little maid, assisted by 
 Donald and Nickey and his helpers, were clearing 
 up the fragments that remained of the entertainment, 
 Hepsey broke forth : 
 
 "If I don t set that young woman down in her place 
 where she belongs before I ve done, I ve missed my 
 guess: Please announce Miss Virginia Bascom, in 
 deed! If that isn t sauce, I m the goose." 
 
 "Oh never mind, Mrs. Burke," soothed Betty in a 
 low voice; "she ll soon realize that we re doing things 
 in good old country style, and haven t brought any 
 city ways with us to Durford. I dare say she 
 thought " 
 
 "Thought nothin !" replied the exasperated Hep 
 sey. "I ll thought her, with her high looks and her 
 proud stomach, as the psalmist says. I d like oh, 
 wouldn t I just like to send up a nice little basket of 
 these left-over victuals to Ginty, with Mrs. Max 
 well s regards. 
 
 She laughed heartily, but Betty was determined 
 not to let herself dwell on anything so trivial, and 
 soon, by way of changing the subject, she was putting 
 Nickey up to the idea of forming a boy-scout corps, 
 which, as she added, could present the village with 
 a thoroughly versatile organization, both useful and 
 ornamental. 
 
136 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Gee," remarked Nickey, who quickly saw himself 
 captaining a body of likely young blades, "that d be 
 some lively corpse, believe me. When can we start 
 in, Mrs. Maxwell?" 
 
 "You must ask Mr. Maxwell all about that, Nick 
 ey," she laughed. 
 
 "But not now," interposed his mother. "You come 
 along with me this minute, and let Mr. Maxwell have 
 a bit of peace; I know how he just loves these teas. 
 Good night, all!" she called as she departed with her 
 son under her wing. 
 
 "Donald! Wasn t it all fun and weren t they all 
 splendid?" Betty glowed. 
 
 "More fun than a barrel of Bascoms monkeys, I 
 mean," he corrected himself, laughing at Betty s 
 shocked expression. 
 
ItJ 
 
 CHAPTER.: 
 
 APART from Mrs. Burke, there was no one in 
 the town who so completely surrendered to 
 Mrs. Maxwell s charms as Jonathan Jack 
 son, the Junior Warden. Betty had penetration 
 enough to see, beneath the man s rough exterior, all 
 that was fine and lovable, and she treated him with a 
 jolly, friendly manner that warmed his heart. 
 
 One day she and Mrs. Burke went over to call on 
 Jonathan, and found him sitting in the woodshed on 
 
 137 
 
138 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 a tub turned bottom upwards, looking very forlorn 
 and disconsolate. 
 
 "What s the matter, Jonathan? You look as if 
 you had committed the unpardonable sin," Hepsey 
 greeted him. 
 
 "No, it aint me," Jonathan replied; "it s Mary 
 McGuire that s the confounded sinner this time." 
 
 "Well, what s Mary been up to now?" 
 
 "Mary McGuire s got one of her attacks of house- 
 cleanin on, and I tell you it s a bad one. Drat the 
 nuisance." 
 
 "Why Jonathan ! Don t swear like that." 
 
 "Well, I be hanged if I can stand this sort of thing 
 much longer. Mary, she s the deuce and all, when 
 she once gets started house-cleanin ." 
 
 "Oh dear," Mrs, Betty sympathized. "It s a both 
 er, isnt it? But it doesn t take so long, and it will 
 soon be over, wont it?" 
 
 "Well, I don t know as to that," replied Jonathan 
 disconsolately. "Mary McGuire seems to think that 
 the whole house must be turned wrong side out, and 
 every bit of furniture I ve got deposited in the front 
 yard. Now, Mrs. Betty, you just look over there 
 once. There s yards and yards of clothes-line cov 
 ered with carpets and rugs and curtains I ve been or 
 dered to clean. It s somethin beyond words. The 
 
HOUSE-CLEANING 139 
 
 whole place looks as if there was goin to be an auc 
 tion, or a rummage sale, or as if we had moved out 
 cause the house was afire. Then she falls to with 
 tubs of boilin hot soap-suds, until it fills your lungs, 
 and drips off the ends of your nose and your fingers, 
 and smells like goodness knows what." 
 
 "Jonathan!" Hepsey reproved. 
 
 "Are you exaggerating just the least bit?" echoed 
 Betty. 
 
 "No ma am, I m not. Words can t begin to tell 
 the tale when Mary gets the fever on. I thought I 
 noticed symptoms of house-cleanin last week. Mary 
 was eyein things round the house, and givin me less 
 and less to eat, and lookin at me with that cold- 
 storage stare of hers that means death or house-clean- 
 in ." 
 
 "But, Mr. Jackson," Betty pleaded, "your house 
 has to be cleaned sometimes, you know." 
 
 "Sure thing," Jonathan replied. "But there s alto 
 gether too much of this house-cleanin business goin 
 on to suit me. I don t see any dirt anywheres." 
 
 "That s because you are a man," Hepsey retorted. 
 "Men never see dirt until they have to take a shovel 
 to it." 
 
 Jonathan sighed hopelessly. "What s the use of 
 bein a widower," he continued, "if you can t even 
 
140 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 have your own way in your own house, I d just like to 
 know ? I have to eat odds and ends of cold victuals 
 out here in the woodshed, or anywhere Mary Mc- 
 Guire happens to drop em." 
 
 ; That s tough luck, Mr. Jackson. You just come 
 over to dinner with Donald and me and have a square 
 meal." 
 
 "I d like to awful well, Mrs. Maxwell, but I 
 dasn t : if I didn t camp out and eat her cold victuals 
 she d laid out for me, it d spoil the pleasure of house- 
 cleanin for her. Taint as though it was done with 
 when she s finished, neither. After it s all over, and 
 things are set to rights, they re all wrong. Some 
 shades wont roll up. Some wont roll down; why, 
 I ve undressed in the dark before now, since one of 
 em suddenly started rollin up on me before I d got 
 into bed, and scared the wits out of me. She ll be 
 askin me to let her give the furnace a sponge bath 
 next. I believe she d use tooth-powder on the inside 
 of a boiled egg, if she only knew how. This house- 
 cleanin racket is all dum nonsense, anyhow." 
 
 "Why Jonathan! Don t swear like that," Betty 
 exclaimed laughing; "Mr. Maxwell s coming." 
 
 "I said d-u-m, Mrs. Betty; I never say nothin 
 worse than that cept when I lose my temper," he 
 added, safely, examining first the hone and then the 
 
HOUSE-CLEANING 141 
 
 edge of the scythe, as if intending to sharpen it. 
 
 Hepsey had gone into the house to inspect for her 
 self the thoroughness of Mary McGuire s opera 
 tions; Betty thought the opportunity favorable for 
 certain counsels. 
 
 "The trouble with you is you shouldn t be living 
 alone, like this, Jonathan. You have all the disad 
 vantages of a house, and none of the pleasures of a 
 home." 
 
 "Yes," he responded, yawning, "it s true enough; 
 but I aint a chicken no more, Mrs. Betty, and I ve 
 most forgot how to do a bit of courtin . What with 
 cleanin up, and puttin on your Sunday clothes, and 
 goin to the barber s, and gettin a good ready, it s a 
 considerable effort for an old man like me." 
 
 "People don t want to see your clothes; they want 
 to see you. If you feel obliged to, you can send your 
 Sunday clothes around some day and let her look at 
 them once for all. Keeping young is largely a matter 
 of looking after your digestion and getting plenty of 
 sleep. Its all foolishness for you to talk about grow 
 ing old. Why, you are in the prime of life." 
 
 "Hm! Yes. And why don t you tell me that I 
 look real handsome, and that the girls are all crazy 
 for me. You re an awful jollier, Mrs. Betty, though 
 I ll admit that a little jollyin does me a powerful lot 
 
142 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 of good now and then. I sometimes like to believe 
 things I know to a certainty aint true, if they make 
 me feel good." 
 
 For a moment Betty kept silent, gazing into the 
 kindly face, and then the instinct of match-making 
 asserted itself too strongly to be resisted. 
 
 "There s no sense in your being a lonesome wid 
 ower. Why don t you get married? I mean it." 
 
 For a moment Jonathan was too astounded at the 
 audacity of the serious suggestion to reply; but when 
 he recovered his breath he exclaimed: 
 
 "Well, I swan to man! What will you ask me to 
 be doin next?" 
 
 "Oh, I mean it, all right," persisted Mrs. Betty. 
 "Here you ve got a nice home for a wife, and I tell 
 you you need the happiness of a real home. You will 
 live a whole lot longer if you have somebody to love 
 and look after; and if you want to know what you 
 will be asking me to do next, I will wager a box of 
 candy it will be to come to your wedding." 
 
 "Make it cigars, Mrs. Betty; I m not much on 
 candy. Maybe you re up to tellin me who ll have * 
 me. I haven t noticed any females makin advances 
 towards me in some time now. The only woman I 
 see every day is Mary McGuire, and she d make a 
 pan-cake griddle have the blues if she looked at it." 
 
HOUSE-CLEANING 143 
 
 Mrs. Betty grasped her elbow with one hand, and 
 putting the first finger of the other hand along the 
 side of her little nose, whispered: 
 
 "What s the matter with Mrs. Burke?" 
 
 Jonathan deliberately pulled a hair from his small 
 remaining crop and cut it with the scythe, as if he 
 had not heard Betty s impertinent suggestion. But 
 fiinally he replied: 
 
 "There s nothin the matter with Mrs. Burke that 
 I know of; but that s no reason why she should be 
 wantin to marry me." 
 
 "She thinks a great deal of you; I know she does." 
 
 "How do you know she does?" 
 
 "Well, I heard her say something very nice about 
 you yesterday." 
 
 "Hm! Did you? What was it?" 
 
 "She said that you were the most the most eco 
 nomical man she ever met." 
 
 "Sure she didn t say I was tighter than the bark on 
 a tree? I guess I aint buyin no weddin ring on the 
 strength of that. Now, Mrs. Betty, you just try 
 again. I guess you re fooling me I" 
 
 "Oh no, really I m not. I never was more serious 
 in my life. I mean just what I say. I know Mrs. 
 Burke really thinks a very great deal of you, and if 
 you like her, you ought to propose to her. Every 
 
144 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 moment a man remains single is an outrageous waste 
 of time." 
 
 Jonathan grinned as he retorted: 
 
 "Well, no man would waste any time if all the girls 
 were like you. They d all be comin early to avoid 
 the rush. Is Mrs. Burke employin your services as 
 a matrimonial agent? Maybe you wont mind tellin 
 me what you re to get if the deal pulls off. Is there 
 a rake-off anywheres?" 
 
 Betty laughed, and Jonathan was silent for a while, 
 squinting at the scythe-edge, first from one angle, 
 then from another, and tentatively raising the hone 
 as if to start sharpening. 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Betty," he said presently, "seein I 
 can t possibly marry you, I don t mind tellin you that 
 I think the next best thing would be to marry Hepsey 
 Burke. She s been a mighty good friend and neigh 
 bor ever since my wife died; but she wouldn t look 
 at the likes of me. Twouldn t be the least use of 
 proposin to her." 
 
 "How do you know it wouldn t? You are not 
 afraid of proposing, are you?" 
 
 "No, of course not; but I can t run over and pro 
 pose, as I would ask her to lend me some clothes 
 line. That d be too sudden ; and courtin takes a lot 
 of time and trouble. I guess I most forgot how by 
 
HOUSE-CLEANING 145 
 
 this time ; and then, to tell you the truth, I always was 
 a bit shy. It took me near onto five years to work 
 myself up to the sticking point when I proposed to my 
 first wife." 
 
 "Well, now that s easy enough; Mrs. Burke usu 
 ally sits on the side porch after supper with her knit 
 ting. Why don t you drop over occasionally, and ap 
 proach the matter gradually? It wouldn t take long 
 to work up to the point." 
 
 "But how shall I begin? I guess you ll have to 
 give me lessons." 
 
 "Oh, make her think you are very lonely. Pity is 
 akin to love, you know." 
 
 "But she knows well enough I m mighty lonely at 
 times. That wont do." 
 
 "Then make her think that you are a regular dare 
 devil, and are going to the bad. Maybe she ll marry 
 you to save you." 
 
 "Me, goin to the bad at my age, and the Junior 
 Warden of the church, too. What are you thinkin 
 of?" 
 
 "It is never too late to mend, you know. You 
 might try being a little frisky, and see what happens." 
 
 "Oh, I know what would happen all right. She d 
 be over here in two jerks of a lamb s tail, and read 
 the riot act, and scare me out of a year s growth. 
 
146 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Hepsey s not a little thing to be playin with." 
 
 "Well, you just make a start. Anything to make 
 a start, and the rest will come easy." 
 
 "My, how the neighbors d talk!" 
 
 "Talk is cheap; and besides, in a quiet place like 
 this it s a positive duty to afford your neighbors some 
 diversion; you ought to be thankful. You ll become 
 a public benefactor. Now will you go ahead?" 
 
 "Mrs. Betty, worry s bad for the nerves, and s apt 
 to produce insomny and neurastheny. But I ll think 
 it over yes, I will I ll think it over." 
 
 Whereupon he suddenly began to whet his scythe 
 with such vim as positively startled Betty. 
 
IB 
 
 THE Maxwells were, in fact, effectively stirring 
 up the ambitions of their flock, routing the 
 older members out of a too easy-going accept 
 ance of things-as-they-are, and giving to the younger 
 ones vistas of a life imbued with more color and 
 variety than had hitherto entered their consciousness. 
 And yet it happened at Durford, on occasion, that 
 this awakening of new talents and individuality pro 
 duced unlooked for complications. 
 
 "Oh yes," Hepsey remarked one day to Mrs. 
 H7 
 
i 4 8 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Betty, when the subject of conversation had turned to 
 Mrs. Burke s son and heir, "Nickey means to be a 
 good boy, but he s as restless as a kitten on a hot 
 Johnny-cake. He isn t a bit vicious, but he do run 
 his heels down at the corners, and he s awful wearin 
 on his pants-bottoms and keeps me patchin and mend- 
 in most of the time contributing to the end in view/ 
 as Abraham Lincoln said. But, woman-like, I guess 
 he finds the warmest spot in my heart when I m doin 
 some sort of repairin on him or his clothes. It would 
 be easier if his intentions wasn t so good, cause I 
 could spank him with a clear conscience if he was 
 vicious. But after all, Nickey seems to have a winnin 1 
 way about him. He knows every farmer within three 
 miles; he ll stop any team he meets, climb into the 
 wagon seat, take the reins, and enjoy himself to his 
 heart s content. All the men seem to like him and 
 give in to him; more s the pity! And he seems to 
 just naturally lead the other kids in their games and 
 mischief." 
 
 "Oh well, I wouldn t give a cent for a boy who 
 didn t get into mischief sometimes," consoled Mrs. 
 Betty. 
 
 At which valuation Nickey was then in process of 
 putting himself and his young friends at a premium. 
 For, about this time, in their efforts to amuse them- 
 
THE CIRCUS 149 
 
 selves, Nickey and some of his friends constructed a 
 circus ring back of the barn. After organizing a 
 stock company and conducting several rehearsals, the 
 rest of the boys in the neighborhood were invited to 
 form an audience, and take seats which had been re 
 served for them without extra charge on an adjoining 
 lumber pile. Besides the regular artists there were a 
 number of specialists or "freaks," who added much 
 to the interest and excitement of the show. 
 
 For example, Sam Cooley, attired in one of Mrs. 
 Burke s discarded underskirts, filched from the rag 
 bag, with some dried cornstalk gummed on his face, 
 impersonated the famous Bearded Lady from Ho- 
 boken. 
 
 Billy Burns, wearing a very hot and stuffy pillow 
 buttoned under his coat and thrust down into his 
 trousers, represented the world-renowned Fat Man 
 from Spoonville. His was rather a difficult role to 
 fill gracefully, because the squashy pillow would per 
 sist in bulging out between his trousers and his coat 
 in a most indecent manner; and it kept him busy most 
 of the time tucking it in. 
 
 Dimple Perkins took the part of the Snake Charm-* 
 er from Brooklyn, and at intervals wrestled fearlessly 
 with a short piece of garden hose which was labeled 
 on the bills as an "Anna Condy." This he wound 
 
150 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 around his neck in the most reckless manner possible ; 
 it was quite enough to make one s blood run cold to 
 watch him. 
 
 The King of the Cannibal Islands was draped in 
 a buffalo robe, with a gilt paper crown adorning his 
 head, and a very suggestive mutton-bone in his hand. 
 
 Poor little Herman Amdursky was selected for the 
 Living Skeleton, because of the spindle-like character 
 of his nethermost limbs. He had to remove his 
 trousers and his coat, and submit to having his ribs 
 wound with yards of torn sheeting, in order that what 
 little flesh he had might be compressed to the small 
 est possible compass. The result was astonishingly 
 satisfactory. 
 
 The Wild Man from Borneo wore his clothes wrong 
 side out, as it is well known wild men from Borneo 
 always do; and he ate grass with avidity. Wry- 
 mouthed and squint-eyed, he was the incarnation of 
 the cubist ideal. 
 
 When all this splendid array of talent issued from 
 the dressing-room and marched triumphantly around 
 the ring, it was indeed a proud moment in the annals 
 of Durford, and the applause from the lumber pile 
 could be heard at least two blocks. 
 
 After the procession, the entertainment proper con 
 sisted of some high and lofty tumbling, the various 
 
THE CIRCUS 151 
 
 "turns" of the respective stars, and then, last of all, 
 as a grand finale, Charley, the old raw-boned farm 
 horse who had been retired on a pension for at least 
 a year, was led triumphantly into the ring, with Nick- 
 ey Burke standing on his back! 
 
 Charley, whose melancholy aspect was a trifle more 
 abject than usual, and steps more halting, meekly fol 
 lowed the procession of actors around the ring, led 
 by Dimple, the Snake Charmer. Nickey s entree cre 
 ated a most profound sensation, and was greeted with 
 tumultuous applause a tribute both to his equestrian 
 feat and to his costume. 
 
 Nickey had once attended a circus at which he had 
 been greatly impressed by the artistic decorations on 
 the skin of a tattooed man, and by the skill of the 
 bareback rider who had turned somersaults while the 
 horse was in motion. It occurred to him that perhaps 
 he might present somewhat of both these attractions, 
 in one character. 
 
 Maxwell had innocently stimulated this taste by 
 lending him a book illustrated with lurid color-plates 
 of Indians in full war paint, according to tribe. 
 
 So Nickey removed his clothes, attired himself in 
 abbreviated red swimming trunks, and submitted to 
 the artistic efforts of Dimple, who painted most intri 
 cate, elaborate, and beautiful designs on Nickey s per- 
 
152 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 son, with a thick solution of indigo purloined from 
 the laundry. 
 
 Nickey s breast was adorned with a picture of a 
 ship under full sail. On his back was a large heart 
 pierced with two arrows. A vine of full blown roses 
 twined around each arm, while his legs were powdered 
 with stars, periods, dashes, and exclamation points in 
 rich profusion. A triangle was painted on each cheek, 
 and dabs of indigo were added to the end of his nose 
 and to the lobe of each ear by way of finishing touches. 
 
 When the work was complete, Nickey surveyed 
 himself in a piece of broken mirror in the dressing- 
 room, and to tell the truth, was somewhat appalled 
 at his appearance; but Dimple Perkins hastened to 
 assure hm, saying that a dip in the river would easily 
 remove the indigo; and that he was the living spit and 
 image of a tattooed man, and that his appearance, 
 posed on the back of Charley, would certainly bring 
 the house down. 
 
 Dimple proved to be quite justified in his statement, 
 so far as the effect on the audience was concerned; 
 for, as Nickey entered the ring, after one moment of 
 breathless astonishment, the entire crowd arose as 
 one man and cheered itself hoarse, in a frenzy of 
 frantic delight. Now whether Charley was enthused 
 by the applause, or whether the situation reminded 
 
THE CIRCUS 153 
 
 him of some festive horseplay of his youth, one can 
 not tell. At any rate, what little life was left in Char 
 ley s blood asserted itself. Quickly jerking the rope 
 of the halter from the astonished hand of Dimple 
 Perkins, Charley turned briskly round, and trotted 
 out of the yard and into the road, while Nickey, who 
 had found himself suddenly astride Charley s back, 
 made frantic efforts to stop him. 
 
 As Charley emerged from the gate, the freaks, the 
 regular artists, the gymnasts, and the entire audience 
 followed, trailing along behind the mounted tattooed 
 man, and shouting themselves hoarse with encourage 
 ment or derision. 
 
 As Charley rose to the occasion and quickened his 
 pace, the heat of the sun, the violent exercise of rid 
 ing bareback, and the nervous excitement produced by 
 the horror of the situation, threw Nickey into a pro 
 fuse sweat. The bluing began to run. The decora 
 tions on his forehead trickled down into his eyes ; and 
 as he tried to rub off the moisture with the back of 
 his hand the indigo was smeared liberally over his 
 face. His personal identity was hopelessly obscured 
 in the indigo smudge; and the most vivid imagination 
 could not conjecture what had happened to the boy. 
 It was by no means an easy feat to retain his seat on 
 Charley s back; it would have been still more difficult 
 
154 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 to dismount, at his steed s brisk pace; and Nickey 
 was most painfully conscious of his attire, as Charley 
 turned up the road which led straight to the village. 
 At each corner the procession was reinforced by a 
 number of village boys who added their quota to the 
 general uproar and varied the monotony of the pro 
 ceeding by occasionally throwing a tin can at the rider 
 on the white horse. When Charley passed the rec 
 tory, and the green, and turned into Church Street, 
 Nickey felt that he had struck rock bottom of shame 
 ful humiliation. 
 
 For many years it had been Charley s habit to take 
 Mrs. Burke down to church on Wednesday after 
 noons for the five o clock service; and although he 
 had been out of commission and docked for repairs 
 for some time, his sublimal self must have got in its 
 work, and the old habit asserted itself : to the church 
 he went, attended at a respectful distance by the 
 Bearded Lady, the Fat Man, the Snake Charmer, the 
 King of the Cannibal Islands, the Living Skeleton, 
 and the Wild Man from Borneo, to say nothing of a 
 large and effective chorus of roaring villagers bring 
 ing up the rear. 
 
 It really was quite clever of Charley to recall that, 
 this being Wednesday, it was the proper day to visit 
 the church, as clever as it was disturbing to Nickey 
 
THE CIRCUS 155 
 
 when he, too, recalled that it was about time for the 
 service to be over, and that his mother must be some 
 where on the premises, to say nothing of the assem 
 bled mothers of the entire stock company and the 
 rector, and the rector s wife. 
 
 Mrs. Burke, poor woman, was quite unconscious of 
 what awaited her, as she emerged from the service 
 with the rest of the congregation. It was an amazed 
 parent that caught sight of her son and heir scram 
 bling off the back of his steed onto the horse-block in 
 front of the church, clad in short swimming trunks 
 and much bluing. The freaks, the regular artists, 
 the gymnasts, and the circus audience generally 
 shrieked and howled and fought each other, in frantic 
 effort to succeed to Nickey s place on Charley s back 
 for Charley now stood undismayed and immovable, 
 with a gentle, pious look in his soft old eyes. 
 
 For one instant, Mrs. Burke and her frends stood 
 paralyzed with horror; and then like the good moth 
 ers in Israel that they were, each jumped to the rescue 
 of her own particular darling that is, as soon as 
 she could identify him. Consternation reigned su 
 preme. Mrs. Cooley caught the Bearded Lady by 
 the arm and shook him fiercely, just as he was about 
 to land an uppercut on the jaw of the King of the 
 Cannibal Islands. Mrs. Burns found her offspring, 
 
156 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 the Fat Man, lying dispossessed on his back in the 
 gutter, while Sime Wilkins, the Man Who Ate Glass, 
 sat comfortably on his stomach. Sime immediately 
 apologized to Mrs. Burns and disappeared. Next, 
 Mrs. Perkins took the Snake Charmer by his collar, 
 and rapped him soundly with the piece of garden hose 
 which she captured as he was using it to chastise the 
 predatory Wild Man from Borneo. Other members 
 of the company received equally unlooked-for censure 
 of their dramatic efforts. 
 
 Nickey, meantime, had fled to the pump behind the 
 church, where he made his ablutions as best he could; 
 then, seeing the vestry room door ajar, he, in his ex 
 tremity, bolted for the quiet seclusion of the sanctu 
 ary. 
 
 To his surprise and horror, he found Maxwell seat 
 ed at a table looking over the parish records; and 
 when Nickey appeared, still rather blue, attired in 
 short red trunks, otherwise unadorned, Donald gazed 
 at him in mute astonishment. For one moment there 
 was silence as they eyed each other; and then Max 
 well burst into roars of uncontrollable laughter, which 
 were not quite subdued as Nickey gave a rather in 
 coherent account of the misfortune which had brought 
 him to such a predicament. 
 
 "So you were the Tattooed Man, were you ! Well, 
 
THE CIRCUS 157- 
 
 I suppose you know that it s not generally customary 
 to appear in church in red tights ; but as you couldn t 
 help it, I shall have to see what can be done for you, 
 to get you home clothed and in your right mind. I ll 
 tell you ! You can put on one of the choir boy s 
 cassocks, and skip home the back way. If anybody 
 stops you tell them you were practising for the choir, 
 and it will be all right. But really, Nickey, if I were 
 in your place, the next time I posed as a mounted 
 Tattooed Man, I d be careful to choose some old 
 quadruped that couldn t run away with you !" 
 
 "Then you aren t mad at me !" 
 
 "Certainly not. I ll leave that to my betters ! You 
 just get home as fast as you can." 
 
 "Gee! but you re white all right you know it 
 didn t say nothing in the book, about what kind of 
 paint to use!" 
 
 Maxwell s eyes opened. "What book are you 
 talking about, Nickey?" he asked. 
 
 "The one you let me take, with the Indians in it." 
 
 Maxwell had to laugh again. "So that s where the 
 idea for this Carnival of Wild West Sports origi 
 nated, eh?" 
 
 "Yes, sir," Nickey nodded. "Everybody wanted 
 to be the tattooed man, but seeing as I had the book, 
 and old Charley was my horse, I couldn t see any 
 
158 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 good reason why I shouldn t get tattooed. Gee ! I ll 
 bet ma will be mad!" 
 
 After being properly vested in a cassock two sizes 
 too large for him, Nickey started on a dead run for 
 home, and, having reached the barn, dressed himself 
 in his customary attire. When he appeared at sup 
 per Mrs. Burke did not say anything; but after the 
 dishes were washed she took him apart and listened 
 to his version of the affair. 
 
 "Nicholas Burke," she said, "if this thing occurs 
 again I shall punish you in a way you wont like." 
 
 "Well, I m awfully sorry," said Nickey, "but it 
 didn t seem to feaze Mr. Maxwell a little bit. He 
 just sat and roared as if he d split his sides. I guess 
 I aint goin to be put out of the church just yet, any 
 way." 
 
 Mrs. Burke looked a bit annoyed. 
 
 "Never mind about Mr. Maxwell. You wont 
 laugh if anything like this occurs again, I can tell 
 you," she replied. 
 
 "Now, ma," soothed Nickey, "don t you worry 
 about it occurrin again. You don t suppose I did 
 it on purpose, do you ? Gosh no ! I wouldn t get onto 
 Charley s back again, with my clothes off, any more 
 than I d sit on a hornet s nest. How d you like to 
 ride through the town with nothin on but your swim- 
 
THE CIRCUS 159 
 
 mm trunks and drippin with bluin water, I d like to 
 know? 
 
 Mrs. Burke did not care to prolong the interview 
 any further, so she said in her severest tones : 
 
 "Nicholas Burke, you go to bed instantly. I ve 
 heard enough of you and seen enough of you, for one 
 day." 
 
 Nickey went. 
 
lift 
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 Mil 
 
 IN the evening, after his work was done, a day or 
 two after his talk with Mrs. Maxwell, Jona 
 than went into the house and took a long look 
 at himself in the glass, with the satisfactory conclu 
 sion that he didn t look so old after all. Why shouldn t 
 he take Mrs. Betty s advice and marry? To be sure, 
 there was no fool like an old fool, but no man could 
 be called a fool who was discrimnating enough, and 
 resourceful enough, to win the hand of Hepsey Burke. 
 To his certain knowledge she had had plenty of eligi- 
 
 160 
 
ON THE SIDE PORCH 161 
 
 ble suitors since her husband s death. She was the 
 acknowledged past-master of doughnuts; and her 
 pickled cucumbers done in salad oil were dreams of 
 delight. What more could a man want? 
 
 So he found that the question was deciding itself 
 apparently without any volition whatever on his part. 
 His fate was sealed; he had lost his heart and his 
 appetite to his neighbor. Having come to this con 
 clusion, it was wonderful how the thought excited 
 him. He took a bath and changed his clothes, and 
 then proceeded to town and bought himself a white 
 neck-tie, and a scarf-pin that cost seventy-five cents. 
 He was going to do the thing in the proper way if he 
 did it at all. 
 
 After supper he mustered sufficient courage to pre 
 sent himself at the side porch where Mrs. Burke was 
 knitting on a scarlet sweater for Nickey. 
 
 "Good evenin , Hepsey," he began. "How are you 
 feelin to-night?" 
 
 "Oh, not so frisky as I might, Jonathan; I d be 
 all right if it weren t for my rheumatiz." 
 
 "Well, we all have our troubles, Hepsey; and if 
 it isn t one thing it s most generally another. You 
 mustn t rebel against rheumatiz. It s one of those 
 things sent to make us better, and we must bear up 
 against it, you know." 
 
1 62 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Hepsey did not respond to this philosophy, and 
 Jonathan felt that it was high time that he got down 
 to business. So he began again: 
 
 "It seems to me as if we might have rain before 
 long if the wind don t change." 
 
 "Shouldn t be surprised, Jonathan. One two 
 three four " Mrs. Burke replied, her attention di 
 vided between her visitor and her sweater. "Got your 
 hay all in?" 
 
 "Yes, most of it. Twon t be long before the long 
 fall evenin s will be comin on, and I kinder dread 
 em. They re awful lonesome, Hepsey." 
 
 "Purl two, knit two, an inch and a half Mrs. 
 Burke muttered to herself as she read the printed 
 directions which lay in her lap, and then she added 
 encouragingly : 
 
 "So you get lonesome, do you, Jonathan, durin 
 the long evenin s, when it gets dark early." 
 
 "Oh, awful lonesome," Jonathan responded. 
 "Don t you ever get lonesome yourself, Hep 
 sey?" 
 
 "I can t say as it kept me awake nights. Tisn t 
 bein alone that makes you lonesome. The most aw 
 ful lonesomeness in the world is bein in a crowd 
 that s not your kind." 
 
 "That s so, Hepsey. But two isn t a crowd. Don t 
 
QN THE SIDE PORCH 163 
 
 you think you d like to get married, if you had a right 
 good chance, now?" 
 
 Hepsey gave her visitor a quick, sharp glance, and 
 inquired: 
 
 "What would you consider a right good chance, 
 Jonathan?" 
 
 "Oh, suppose that some respectable widower with 
 a tidy sum in the bank should ask you to marry him ; 
 what would you say, Hepsey?" 
 
 "Can t say until I d seen the widower, to say nothin 
 of the bank book one, two, three, four, five, six " 
 
 Jonathan felt that the crisis was now approaching; 
 so, moving his chair a little nearer, he resumed ex 
 citedly : 
 
 "You ve seen him, Hepsey; you ve seen him lots of 
 times, and he don t live a thousand miles away, 
 neither." 
 
 "Hm ! Must be he lives in Martin s Junction. Is 
 he good lookin , Jonathan?" 
 
 "Oh, fair to middlin. That is of course I well 
 I I should think he was ; but tastes differ." 
 
 "Well, you know I m right particular, Jonathan. 
 Is he real smart and clever?" 
 
 "I don t know as I ought to to say, Hepsey; 
 but I rather guess he knows enough to go in when it 
 
 rains." 
 
1 64 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "That s good as far as it goes. The next time 
 you see him, you tell him to call around and let me 
 look him over. Maybe I could give him a job on 
 the farm, even if I didn t want to marry him." 
 
 "But he doesn t want any job on the farm, Hep- 
 sey. He just wants you, that s all." 
 
 "How do you know he does? Did he ever tell 
 you?" 
 
 "Hepsey Burke, don t you know who I m alludin 
 at? Haven t you ever suspected nothin ?" 
 
 "Yes, I ve suspected lots of things. Now there s 
 Jack Dempsey. I ve suspected him waterin the milk 
 for some time. Haven t you ever suspected anythin 
 yourself, Jonathan?" 
 
 "Well, I guess I m suspectin that you re tryin to 
 make a fool of me, all right." 
 
 "Oh no! Fools come ready-made, and there s a 
 glut in the market just now; seven eight nine 
 ten; no use makin more until the supply s exhausted. 
 But what made you think you wanted to marry? This 
 is so powerful sudden." 
 
 Now that the point was reached, Jonathan got a 
 little nervous : "To to tell you the truth, Hepsey," 
 he stuttered, "I was in doubt about it myself for some 
 time; but bein as I am a Christian man I turned to 
 the Bible for light on my path." 
 
ON THE SIDE PORCH 165; 
 
 * 
 
 "Hm ! And how did the light shine?" 
 
 "Well, I just shut my eyes and opened my Bible 
 at random, and put my finger on a text. Then I 
 opened my eyes and read what was written." 
 
 "Yes! What did you find?" 
 
 "I read somethin about not a man of them es 
 caped save six hundred that rode away on camels. 
 
 "Did that clear up all your difficulties?" 
 
 "No, can t say as it did. But those words about 
 no man escapin seemed to point towards matri 
 mony as far as they went. Then I tried a second 
 time." 
 
 "Oh did you? I should think that six hundred 
 camels would be enough for one round-up. What 
 luck did you have the second time?" 
 
 "Well, I read, Moab is my wash pot, over Edom 
 will I cast out my shoe. You ve seen em cast shoes 
 at the carriages of brides and grooms, haven t you, 
 Hepsey? Just for luck, you know. So it seemed to 
 point towards matrimony again." 
 
 "Say, Jonathan, you certainly have a wonderful 
 gift for interpretin Scripture." 
 
 "Well, Scripture or no Scripture, I want you, Hep 
 sey." 
 
 "Am I to understand that you re just fadin and 
 pinin away for love of me? You don t look thin." 
 
i66 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Oh, we aint neither of us as young as we once 
 was, Hepsey. Of course I can t be expected to pine 
 real hard." 
 
 "I m afraid it s not the real thing, Jonathan, un 
 less you pine. Don t it keep you awake nights, or 
 take away your appetite, or make you want to play 
 the banjo, or nothin ?" 
 
 "No, Hepsey; to tell you the plain truth, it don t. 
 But I feel awful lonesome, and I like you a whole lot, 
 and I I love you as much as anyone, I guess." 
 
 "So you are in love are you, Jonathan. Then let 
 me give you some good advice. When you re in love, 
 don t believe all you think, or half you feel, or any 
 thing at all you are perfectly sure of. It s dangerous 
 business. But I am afraid that you re askin me be 
 cause it makes you think that you are young and 
 giddy, like the rest of the village boys, to be proposin 
 to a shy young thing like me." 
 
 "No, Hepsey; you aren t no shy young thing, and 
 you haven t been for nigh on forty years. I wouldn t 
 be proposin to you if you were." 
 
 "Jonathan, your manners need mendin a whole 
 lot. The idea of insinuatin that I am not a shy young 
 thing. I m ashamed of you, and I m positive we 
 could never get along together." 
 
 "But I can t tell a lie about you, even if I do want 
 
ON THE SIDE PORCH 167 
 
 to marry you. You don t want to marry a liar, do 
 you?" 
 
 "Well, the fact is, Jonathan, polite lyin s the real 
 foundation of all good manners. What we ll ever 
 do when we get to heaven where we have to tell the 
 truth whether we want to or not, I m sure I don t 
 know. It ll be awful uncomfortable until we get 
 used to it." 
 
 "The law says you should tell the truth, the whole 
 truth, and nothin but the truth," persisted the literal 
 wooer. 
 
 "Now, see here, Jonathan. Would you say that a 
 dog s tail was false and misleadin just because it 
 isn t the whole dog?" 
 
 This proposition was exceedingly confusing to Jon 
 athan s intelligence, but after careful consideration 
 he felt obliged to say "No." 
 
 "Of course you wouldn t," Mrs. Burke continued 
 triumphantly, quickly following up her advantage. 
 "You see a dog s tail couldn t be misleading, cause 
 the dog leads the tail, and not the tail the dog. Any 
 fool could see that." 
 
 Jonathan felt that he had been tricked, although he 
 could not see just how the thing had been accom 
 plished; so he began again: 
 
 "Now Hepsey, we re wanderin from the point, 
 
1 68 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 and you re just talkin to amuse yourself. Can t you 
 come down to business? Here I am a widower, and 
 here you are a widowess, and we re both lonesome, 
 and we 
 
 "Who told you I was lonesome, I d like to know?" 
 
 "Well, of course you didn t, cause you never tell 
 anything to anyone. But I guessed you was some 
 times, from the looks of you." 
 
 Hepsey bent her head over her work and counted 
 stitches a long time before she looked up. Then she 
 remarked slowly: 
 
 "There s an awful lot of sick people in the world, 
 and I m mighty sorry for em; but they ll die, or 
 they ll get well. I guess I m more sorry for people 
 who have to go on livin , and workin hard, when 
 they re just dyin for somebody to love em, and some 
 body to love, until the pain of it hurts like a wisdom 
 tooth. No, I can t afford to be lonesome much, and 
 that s a fact. So I just keep busy, and if I get too 
 lonesome, I just go and jolly somebody that s lone- 
 somer than I am, and we both feel better; and if I 
 get lonely lyin awake at night, I light a lamp and 
 read Webster s Dictionary. Try it, Jonathan; it s a 
 sure anti-doubt." 
 
 "There you go again, tryin to change the subject, 
 just when I thought you was goin to say somethin ." 
 
ON THE SIDE PORCH 169 
 
 "But you don t really want to marry me. I m not 
 young, and I m not interestin : one or the other you ve 
 just got to be." 
 
 "You re mighty interestin to me, Hepsey, anyway; 
 and and you re mighty unselfish." 
 
 "Well, you needn t throw that in my face; I m not 
 to blame for bein unselfish. I ve just had to be, 
 whether I wanted or not. It s my misfortune, not my 
 fault. Lots of people are unselfish because they re 
 too weak to stand up for their own rights." She 
 paused and then looked up at him, smiling whimsi 
 cally, and added: "Well, well, Jonathan; see here 
 now I ll think it over, and perhaps some day before 
 go way, you horrid thing ! Let go my hand, I tell 
 you. There ! You ve made me drop a whole row of 
 stitches. If you don t run over home right now, be 
 fore you re tempted to do any more flirtin, I ll I ll 
 hold you for breach of promise." 
 
CHAPTERXV 
 
 Bff 
 
 TO Nickey, the Maxwells were in tKe nature of 
 a revelation. At his impressionable stage of 
 boyhood, and because of their freedom from 
 airs and graces of any kind, he was quick to notice 
 the difference in type "some class to them ; not snobs 
 or dudes, but the real thing," as he expressed it. His 
 ardent admiration of Donald, and his adoration of 
 Mrs. Betty, gave him ambition to find the key to their 
 secret, and to partake of it. 
 
 He was too shy to speak of it, to his mother last 
 170 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 171 
 
 of all, as is the nature of a boy, and had to rely on 
 an observant and receptive mind for the earlier steps 
 in his quest. When Maxwell boarded with them, 
 Nickey had discovered that he was wont to exercise 
 with dumb-bells each morning before breakfast. The 
 very keenness of his desire to be initiated, held him 
 silent. A visit to the town library, on his mother s 
 behalf, chanced to bring his eyes generally oblivious 
 of everything in the shape of a book upon the title 
 of a certain volume designed to instruct in various 
 parlor-feats of physical prowess. 
 
 The book was borrowed from the librarian, a 
 little shamefacedly. The next morning Mrs. Burke 
 was somewhat alarmed at the noise which came from 
 Nickey s room, and when there was a crash as if the 
 chimney had fallen, she could stand it no longer, 
 and hurried aloft. Nickey stood in the middle of 
 the floor, clad in swimming trunks, gripping a large 
 weight (purloined from the barn) in either hand, 
 very red in the face, and much out of breath. 
 
 As the door unexpectedly opened he dived for bed 
 and pulled the clothes under his chin. 
 
 "Land Sakes !" Hepsey breathed, aghast. "What s 
 all this about? If there s a nail loose in the flooring 
 I can lend you a hammer for the asking," and she ex 
 amined several jagged dents in the boards. 
 
172 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Say ma," urged Nickey in moving tones. "If I d 
 a pair of dumb-bells like Mr. Maxwell s, I c d hold 
 onto em. I ve pretty near smashed my feet with 
 them things gosh darn it," he added ruefully, nurs 
 ing the bruised member under the clothes. 
 
 "I guess you can get em, next time you go to 
 Martin s Junction; but if it s exercise you want," his 
 parent remarked unsympathetically, "there s plenty of 
 kindlin in the woodshed wants choppin ." 
 
 She retired chuckling to herself, as she caught a 
 glimmer of what was working in her son s mind. 
 
 The "reading habit" having been inculcated by 
 this lucky find at the library, it was not long before 
 Nickey acquired from the same source a veritable col 
 lection of volumes on the polite arts and crafts "The 
 Ready Letter-Writer"; "Manners Maketh Man"; 
 "Seven Thousand Errors of Speech;" "Social Culture 
 in the Smart Set," and the like. 
 
 Nickey laboriously studied from these authorities 
 how to enter a ball room, how to respond to a toast 
 at a dinner given in one s honor, how to propose the 
 health of his hostess, and how to apologize for tread 
 ing on a lady s train. 
 
 In the secrecy of his chamber he put into practice 
 the helpful suggestions of these invaluable manuals. 
 He bowed to the washstand, begged the favor of the 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 173 
 
 next dance from the towel rack, trod on the window 
 shade and made the prescribed apology. Then he 
 discussed the latest novel at dinner with a distin 
 guished personage; and having smoked an invisible 
 cigar, interspersed with such wit as accords with wal 
 nuts and wine, after the ladies had retired, he entered 
 the drawing-room, exchanged parting amenities with 
 the guests, bade his hostess good night, and grace 
 fully withdrew to the clothes-press. 
 
 Several times Hepsey caught glimpses of him going 
 through the dumb show of "Social Culture in the 
 Smart Set," and her wondering soul was filled with 
 astonishment at his amazing evolutions. She found 
 it in her heart to speak of it to Mrs. Betty and Max 
 well, and ask for their interpretation of the matter. 
 
 So, one day, during this seizure of feverish enthusi 
 asm for self-culture, Hepsey and Nickey received an 
 invitation to take supper at the rectory. Neverthe 
 less, Mrs. Burke thought it prudent to give her son 
 some good advice in regard to his behavior. She 
 realized, perhaps, that a book is good so far as it 
 goes, but is apt to ignore elementals. So she called 
 him aside before they started: 
 
 "Now, Nickey, remember to act like a gentleman, 
 especially at the table; you must try to do credit to 
 your bringin up." 
 
174 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Yes, I ll do my level best if it kills me," the boy 
 replied. 
 
 "Well, what do you do with your napkin when you 
 first sit down to the table?" 
 
 "Tie it round my neck, of course I" 
 
 "Oh, no, you mustn t do anything of the sort; you 
 must just tuck it in your collar, like any gentleman 
 would. And when we come home what are you goin 
 to say to Mrs. Maxwell?" 
 
 "Oh, I ll say, Til see you later. " 
 
 "Mercy no ! Say, I ve had a very nice time. 
 
 "But suppose I didn t have a nice time, what d 
 I say?" 
 
 For a moment Hepsey struggled to reconcile her 
 code of ethics with her idea of good manners, and 
 then replied: 
 
 "Why say, Mrs. Maxwell, it was awfully good of 
 you to ask me, and I don t believe she ll notice any 
 thing wrong about that." 
 
 "Hm !" Nickey retorted scornfully. "Seems pretty 
 much like the same thing to me." i 
 
 "Oh no! Not in the least. Now what will you 
 wear when we go to the rectory?" 
 
 "My gray suit, and tan shoes, and the green tie 
 with the purple spots on it." 
 
 "Who ll be the first to sit down to the table?" 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 175 
 
 "Search me maybe I will, if there s good eats." 
 
 "Nonsense ! You must wait for Mrs. Maxwell and 
 the rector to be seated first." 
 
 "Well," Nickey exclaimed in exasperation, "I m 
 bound to make some horrible break anyway, so don t 
 you worry, ma. It seems to me from what them 
 books say, that when you go visitin you ve got to 
 tell lies like a sinner; and you can t tell the truth till 
 you get home with the door shut. I never was good 
 at lyin ; I always get caught." 
 
 "It isn t exactly lyin , Nickey; its just sayin nice 
 things, and keepin your mouth shut about the rest. 
 Now suppose you dropped a fork under the table, 
 what d you say?" 
 
 "I d say scuse me, Mrs. Maxwell, but one of the 
 forks has gone, and you can go through my clothes 
 if you want to before I go home." 
 
 "Hm!" Hepsey remarked dryly, "I guess the less 
 you say, the better." 
 
 Arrived at the rectory, Nickey felt under some re 
 straint when they first sat down to the supper table; 
 but under the genial manner of Mrs. Maxwell 
 he soon felt at his ease, and not even his observant 
 mother detected any dire breach of table etiquette. 
 His conversation was somewhat spare, his attention 
 being absorbed and equally divided between observa- 
 
176 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 tion of his host and consumption of the feast set be 
 fore him. With sure tact, Mrs. Betty though re 
 garding Nickey as the guest of honor that evening 
 deferred testing the results of his conversational 
 studies until after supper : one thing at once, she de 
 cided, was fair play. 
 
 After the meal was over, they repaired together to 
 the parlor, and while Hepsey took out her wash-rag 
 knitting and Maxwell smoked his cigar, Mrs. Betty 
 gave Nickey her undivided attention. 
 
 In order to interest the young people of the place 
 in the missionary work of the parish, Mrs. Betty had 
 organized a guild of boys who were to earn what they 
 could towards the support of a missionary in the west. 
 The Guild had been placed under the fostering care 
 and supervision of Nickey as its treasurer, and was 
 known by the name of "The Juvenile Band of Glean 
 ers." In the course of the evening Mrs. Maxwell 
 took occasion to inquire what progress they were mak 
 ing, thereby unconsciously challenging a somewhat 
 surprising recountal. 
 
 "Well," Nickey replied readly, "we ve got forty- 
 six cents in the treasury; that s just me, you know; I 
 keep the cash in my pants pocket." 
 
 Then he smiled uneasily, and fidgeted in his chair. 
 
 There was something in Nickey s tone and look 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 177 
 
 that excited Mrs. Betty s curiosity, and made his 
 mother stop knitting and look at him anxiously over 
 her glasses. 
 
 "That is very good for a start," Mrs. Betty com 
 mended. "How did you raise all that, Nickey?" 
 
 For a moment Nickey colored hotly, looked embar 
 rassed, and made no reply. Then mustering up his 
 courage, and laughing, he began: 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Maxwell, it was just like this. Maybe 
 you won t like it, but I ll tell you all the same. Bein 
 as I was the president of the Juv nul Band of Glean 
 ers, I though I d get the kids together, and start 
 somethin . Saturday it rained cats and dogs, so Billy 
 Burns, Sam Cooley, Dimple Perkins and me, we went 
 up into the hay loft, and I said to the kids, You fel 
 lows have got to cough up some dough for the church, 
 and 
 
 "Contribute money, Nickey. Don t be slangy," his 
 mother interjected. 
 
 "Well I says, Tm runnin the Juv nals, and you ve 
 got to do just what I say. I ve got a dandy scheme 
 for raisin money and we ll have some fun doin it, 
 or I miss my guess. Then I asked Sam Cooley how 
 much money he d got, and Sam, he had forty-four 
 cents, Billy Burns had fifty-two cents, and Dimple had 
 only two. Dimp never did have much loose cash, any- 
 
178 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 way. But I said to Dimp, Never mind, Dimp ; you 
 aint to blame. Your dad s an old skinflint. I ll lend 
 you six to start off with. Then I made Billy Burns 
 sweep the floor, while Sam went down to the chicken 
 yard and caught my bantam rooster, Tooley. Then 
 I sent Dimp after some chalk, and an empty peach 
 basket, and a piece of cord. Then we was ready for 
 business. 
 
 C I marked a big circle on the barn floor with the 
 chalk, and divided it into four quarters with straight 
 lines runnin through the middle. Then I turned the 
 peach basket upside down, and tied one end of the 
 string on the bottom, and threw the other end up over 
 a beam overhead, so I could pull the basket off from 
 the floor up to the beam by the string. You see," 
 Nickey illustrated with graphic gestures, "the basket 
 hung just over the middle of the circle like a bell. 
 Then I took the rooster and stuck him under the bas 
 ket. Tooley hollered and scratched like Sam Hill and 
 
 "For mercy sake, Nickey! What will you say 
 next?" 
 
 "Say, ma, you just wait and see. Well, Tooley 
 kicked like everything, but he had to go under just 
 the same. Then I said to the kids to sit around the 
 circle on the floor, and each choose one of the four 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 179 
 
 quarters for hisself, one for each of us. Now, I 
 said, you must each cough up 
 
 "Nicholas!" 
 
 "Oh ma, do let me tell it without callin* me down 
 every time. You kids must hand out a cent apiece 
 and put it on the floor in your own quarter. Then, 
 when I say ready, I ll pull the string and raise the 
 basket and let Tooley out. Tooley ll get scared and 
 run. If he runs off the circle through my quarter, 
 then the four cents are mine; but if he runs through 
 Dimp s quarter, then the four cents are Dimp s. 
 
 "It was real excitin when I pulled the string, and 
 the basket went up. You d ought to Ve been there, 
 Mrs. Maxwell. You d have laughed fit to split " 
 
 "Nicholas Burke, you must stop talkin like that, 
 or I ll send you home," reproved Mrs. Burke, look 
 ing severely at her son, and with deprecating side- 
 glances at his audience. 
 
 "Excuse me, ma. It will be all over in a minute. 
 But really, you d have laughed like sin I mean you d 
 have just laughed yourself sick. Tooley was awful 
 nervous when the basket went up. For a minute he 
 crouched and stood still, scared stiff at the three kids, 
 all yellin like mad; then he ducked his head and bolt 
 ed off the circle through my quarter and flew up on a 
 beam. I thought the kids would bust." 
 
i8o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Mrs. Burke sighed heavily. 
 
 "Well, burst, then. But while they were laughin I 
 raked in the cash. You see I just had to. I won it 
 for fair. I d kept quiet, and that s why Tooley come 
 across my quarter." 
 
 Mrs. Maxwell was sorting over her music, while 
 Maxwell s face was hidden behind a paper. Mrs. 
 Burke was silent through despair. Nickey glanced 
 furtively at his hearers for a moment and then con 
 tinued : 
 
 "Yes, the kids was tickled; but they got awful quiet 
 when I told them to fork over another cent apiece for 
 the jack-pot." 
 
 "What in the name of conscience is a jack-pot? * 
 Hepsey asked. 
 
 Donald laughed and Nickey continued: 
 
 "A jack-pot s a jack-pot; there isn t no other name 
 that I ever heard of. We caught Tooley and stuck 
 him under the basket, and made him do it all over 
 again. You see, every time when Tooley got loose, 
 the kids all leant forward and yelled like mad; but I 
 just kept my mouth shut, and leaned way back out of 
 the way so that Tooley d run out through my quar 
 ter. So I won most all the time." 
 
 There was a pause, while Nickey looked a 
 bit apprehensively at his audience. But he 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 181 
 
 went on gamely to the end of the chapter. 
 
 "Once Tooley made a bolt in a straight line through 
 Dimp s quarter, and hit Dimp in the mouth, and 
 bowled him over like a nine-pin. Dimp was scared 
 to death, and howled like murder till he found he d 
 scooped the pot; then he got quiet. After we made 
 Tooley run ten times, he struck work and wouldn t 
 run any more; so we just had to let him go; but I 
 didn t care nothn about that, cause you see I had 
 the kids cash in my pants pocket, and that was what I 
 was after. Well, sir, when it was all over, cause I d 
 busted the bank " 
 
 "Nicholas Burke, I am ashamed of you." 
 
 "Never mind, ma; I m most through now. When 
 they found I d busted the bank, they looked kind of 
 blue, and Dimp Perkins said it was a skin game, and 
 I was a bunco steerer." 
 
 "What did you say to that?" Donald inquired. 
 
 "Oh, I just said it was all for religion, it was 
 church money, and it was all right. I was just glean- 
 in what few cents they had, to pay the church debt 
 to the missionary; and they ought to be ashamed to 
 have a church debt hangin over em, and they d 
 oughter be more cheerful bout givin a little somethin 
 toward raisin of it." 
 
 When Nickey had finished, there was an ominous 
 
182 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 silence for a moment or two, and then his mother said 
 sternly : 
 
 "What do you suppose Mrs. Perkins will say when 
 she finds that you ve tricked her son into a regular 
 gambling scheme, to get his money away from 
 him?" 
 
 "Mrs. Perkins," retored Nickey, thoroughly 
 aroused by the soft impeachment. "I should worry ! 
 At the church fair, before Mr. Maxwell came, she 
 ran a fancy table, and tried to sell a baby blanket to 
 an old bachelor; but he wouldn t take it. Then when 
 he wasn t lookin , blessed if she didn t turn around 
 and tie the four corners together with a bit of ribbon, 
 and sell it to him for a handkerchief case. She got 
 two dollars for it, and it wasn t worth seventy-five 
 cents. She was as proud as a dog with two tails, and 
 went around tellin everybody." 
 
 Silence reigned, ominous and general, and Nickey 
 braced himself for the storm. Even Mrs. Maxwell 
 didn t look at him, and that was pretty bad. He be 
 gan to get hot all over, and the matter was fast as 
 suming a new aspect in his own mind which made him 
 ashamed of himself. His spirits sank lower and low 
 er. Finally his mother remarked quietly: 
 
 "Nickey, I thought you were goin to be a gentle 
 
 man." 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 183 
 
 "That s straight, all right, what I ve told you," he 
 murmured abashed. 
 
 There was another silent pause presently broken 
 by Nickey. 
 
 "I guess I hadn t thought about it, just that way. 
 I guess I ll give the kids their money back," he vol 
 unteered despondently "only I ll have to make it up, 
 some way, in the treasury." He felt in his pockets, 
 and jingled the coins. 
 
 Another pause with only the ticking of his moth 
 er s knitting needles to relieve the oppressive silence. 
 Suddenly the worried pucker disappeared from his 
 brow, and his face brightened like a sun-burst. 
 
 "I ve got it, Mrs. Maxwell," he cried. "I ve got 
 seventy-five cents comin to me down at the Variety 
 Store, for birch-bark frames, and I ll give that for the 
 blamed old missionaries. That s square, ain t it 
 now?" 
 
 Mrs. Betty s commendation and her smile were 
 salve to the wounds of her young guest, and Donald s 
 hearty laughter soon dispelled the sense of social 
 failure which was beginning to cloud Nickey s happy 
 spirit. 
 
 "Say Nickey," said Maxwell, throwing down his 
 paper, "Mrs. Betty and I want to start a Boy Scout 
 Corps in the parish, and with your resourceful genius 
 
1 84 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 you could get the boys together, and explain it to 
 them, and soon we should have the whole thing in 
 ship-shape order. Will you do it?" 
 
 "Will I ?" exclaimed the delighted recruit. "I guess 
 so but some of em aint Piscopals, Mr. Maxwell; 
 there s Sam Cooley, he s a Methodist, and 
 
 "That doesn t cut any ice, Nickey, excuse my 
 slang, ladies," he apologized to his wife and Hepsey, 
 at which the boy grinned with delight. "We re out 
 to welcome all comers. I ve got the books that we 
 shall need upstairs. Let s go up to my den and talk 
 it all over. We shall have to spend evenings getting 
 thoroughly up in it ourselves, rules and knots and 
 first-aid and the rest. Mrs. Burke will allay parental 
 anxiety as to the bodily welfare of the recruits and 
 the pacific object of the organization, and Mrs. Max 
 well will make the colors. Come on!" 
 
 With sparkling eyes, Nickey followed Donald out 
 of the room; as they disappeared Hepsey slowly 
 shook her head in grateful deprecation at Betty. 
 
 "Bless him!" ejaculated Hepsey. "Mixin up re 
 ligion, with a little wholesome fun, is the only way 
 you can serve It to boys, like Nickey, and get results. 
 Boys that are ever goin to amount to anything are 
 too full of life to stand em up in a row, with a 
 prayer book in one hand and a hymnal in the other, 
 
NICKEY S SOCIAL AMBITIONS 185 
 
 and expect em to sprout wings. It can t be done. 
 Keep a boy outside enough and he ll turn out alright. 
 Fresh air and open fields have a mighty helpful in 
 fluence on em. The way I ve got it figgered out, all 
 of us can absorb a lot of the right kind of religion, 
 if we ll only go out and watch old Mother Nature, 
 now and then." 
 
CHAPTERXVI 
 
 THE small town of Durford was not immune 
 from the curse of drink: there was no doubt 
 about that. Other forms of viciousness there 
 were in plenty; but the nine saloons did more harm 
 than all the rest of the evil influences put together, 
 and Maxwell, though far from being a fanatic, was 
 doing much in a quiet way to neutralize their bad in 
 fluence. He turned the Sunday School room into a 
 reading room during the week days, organized a gym 
 nasium, kept watch of the younger men individually, 
 
 186 
 
TEMPERANCE REFORM 187 
 
 and offered as best he could some chance for the ex 
 pression of the gregarious instinct which drew them 
 together after the work of the day was over. In 
 the face of his work in these directions, it happened 
 that a venturesome and enterprising saloon-keeper 
 bought a vacant property adjacent to the church, and 
 opened up an aggressive business much to Max 
 well s dismay. 
 
 Among the women of the parish there was a "La 
 dies Temperance League," of which Mrs. Burke 
 was president. They held quarterly meetings, and it 
 was at one of the meetings held at Thunder Cliff, 
 and at which Mrs. Burke presided, that she remarked 
 severely: 
 
 "Mrs. Sapley, you re out of order. There s a mo 
 tion before the house, and I ve got something to say 
 about it myself. Mrs. Perkins, as Mrs. Maxwell 
 was unable to be present, will you kindly take the 
 chair, or anything else you can lay your hands on, 
 and I ll say what I ve got to say." 
 
 Mrs. Perkins took Mrs. Burke s place as the presi 
 dent, while Mrs. Burke rubbed her glasses in an im 
 patient way; and having adjusted them, began in a 
 decided tone from which there was meant to be no 
 appeal : 
 
 "The fact is, ladies, we re not gettin down to busi- 
 
i88 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 ness as we ought to, if we are to accomplish anything. 
 We ve been singing hymns, and recitin lovely poems, 
 and listenin to reports as to how money spent for 
 liquor would pay off the national debt; and we ve been 
 sayin prayers, and pledgin ourselves not to do things 
 none of us ever was tempted to do, or thought of 
 doin , and wearin ribbons, and attendin conventions, 
 and talkin about influencin legislation at Washing 
 ton, and eatin sandwiches, and drinkin weak tea, and 
 doin goodness knows what; but we ve not done a 
 blessed thing to stop men drinkin right here in Dur- 
 f ord and breakin the town law ; you know that well 
 enough." 
 
 Mrs. Burke paused for breath after this astounding 
 revolutionary statement, and there was a murmur of 
 scandalized dissent from the assembled ladies at this 
 outspoken expression on the part of the honorable 
 president of the Parish Guild. 
 
 "No," she continued emphatically, "don t you fool 
 yourselves. If we can t help matters right here where 
 we live, then there s no use havin imitation church 
 sociables, and goin home thinkin we ve helped the 
 temperance cause, and callin everybody else bad 
 names who don t exactly agree with us." 
 
 Again there were symptoms of open rebellion 
 against this traitorous heresy on the part of the plain- 
 
TEMPERANCE REFORM 189 
 
 spoken president; but she was not to be easily silenced; 
 so she continued: 
 
 "Men have got to go somewheres when their work 
 is over, and have a good time, and I believe that we 
 won t accomplish anything until we fix up a nice, at 
 tractive set of rooms with games, and give em some 
 thing to drink." 
 
 Cries of "Oh! Oh! Oh!" filled the room. 
 
 "I didn t say whiskey, did I? Anybody would 
 think I d offered to treat you, the way you receive 
 my remarks. Now we can t get the rooms right off, 
 cause we can t yet afford to pay the rent of em. But 
 there s one thing we can do. There s Silas Bingham 
 the new man. He s gone and opened a saloon 
 within about a hundred feet of the church, and he s 
 sellm liquor to children and runnin a slot machine 
 besides. It s all against the law; but if you think 
 the village trustees are goin to do anythin to enforce 
 the law, you re just dead wrong, every one of you. 
 The trustees are most of em in it for graft, and 
 they aint goin to close no saloon when it s comin 
 election day for long, not if Bingham serves cock 
 tails between the hymns in church. Maybe the trus- 
 tees d come to church better if he did. Maybe you 
 think I m usin strong language; but it s true all the 
 same, and you know it s true. Silas Bingham s move 
 
1 9 o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 is a sassy challenge to us: are we goin to lie down 
 under it?" 
 
 "I must say that I m painfully surprised at you, 
 Mrs. Burke," Mrs. Burns began. "You surely can t 
 forget what wonderful things the League has accom 
 plished in Virginia and " 
 
 "Yes," Mrs. Burke interrupted, "but you see Dur- 
 ford aint in Virginia so far as heard from, and it s 
 our business to get up and hustle right here where we 
 live. Did you think we were tryin to reform Vir 
 ginia or Alaska by absent treatment?" 
 
 Mrs. Sapley could not contain herself another mo 
 ment; so, rising to her feet excitedly she sputtered: 
 
 "I do not agree with you, Mrs. Burke; I do not 
 agree with you at all. Our meetings have been very 
 inspiring and helpful to us all, I am perfectly sure; 
 very uplifting and encouraging; and I am astonished 
 that you should speak as you do." 
 
 "I m very glad you ve found them so, Mrs. Sapley. 
 I don t drink myself, and I don t need no encouragin 
 and upliftin . It s the weak man that drinks who 
 needs encouragin and upliftin ; and he wouldn t come 
 near one of our meetin s any more than a bantam 
 rooster would try to hatch turtles from moth-balls. 
 We ve got to clear Silas Bingham from off the church 
 steps." 
 
TEMPERANCE REFORM 191 
 
 "Well," Mrs. Burns inquired, "what do you pro 
 pose to do about it, if I may be allowed to in 
 quire?" 
 
 "Do? The first thing I propose to do is to inter 
 view Silas Bingham myself privately, and see what I 
 can do with him. Perhaps I won t accomplish noth- 
 in ; but I m goin to try, anyway, and make him get 
 out of that location." 
 
 "You can, if anybody can," Mrs. Sapley re 
 marked. 
 
 "Thank you for the compliment, Mrs. Sapley. 
 Now Mrs. President, I move, sir that is, madam 
 that the parish League appoints me to interview 
 Bingham." 
 
 The motion was duly seconded and passed, not 
 withstanding some mild protests from the opposition, 
 and Mrs. Burke resumed her place as presiding offi 
 cer of the meeting. Then she continued: 
 
 "Excuse me; I forgot the previous question which 
 somebody moved. Shall we have lettuce or chicken 
 sandwiches at our next meetin ? You have heard the 
 question. Those in favor of chicken please say aye. 
 Ah! The ayes have the chicken, and the chicken is 
 unanimously carried. Any more business to come be 
 fore the meetin ? If not, we ll proceed to carry out 
 the lit ary program arranged by Miss Perkins. Then 
 
192 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 we ll close this meetin by singin the 224th hymn. 
 Don t forget the basket by the door." 
 
 Silas Bingham was an undersized, timid, pulpy 
 soul, with a horizontal forehead, watery blue eyes, 
 and a receding chin. Out of "office hours" he looked 
 like a meek solicitor for a Sunday School magazine. 
 One bright morning just as he had finished sweeping 
 out the saloon and was polishing the brass rod on the 
 front of the bar, Mrs. Burke walked in, and extended 
 her hand to the astonished bar-keeper, whose chin 
 dropped from sheer amazement. She introduced her 
 self in the most cordial and sympathetic of tones, 
 saying: 
 
 "How do you do, Mr. Bingham? I haven t had 
 the pleasure of meetin you before; but I always make 
 it a point to call on strangers when they come to 
 town. It must be awful lonesome when you first ar 
 rive and don t know a livin soul. I hope your wife is 
 tolerable well." 
 
 Bingham gradually pulled himself together and 
 turned very red, as he replied: 
 
 "Thanks! But my wife doesn t live here. It s 
 awful kind of you, I m sure; but you ll find my wife 
 in the third house beyond the bakery, down two 
 
TEMPERANCE REFORM 193 
 
 blocks turn to the right. She ll be glad to see you." 
 
 "That s good," Hepsey responded, "but you see I 
 don t have much to do on Thursdays, and I ll just 
 have a little visit with you, now I m here. Fine day, 
 isn t it." 
 
 Mrs. Burke drew up a chair and sat down, adjusted 
 her feet comfortably to the rung of another chair, 
 and pulled out her knitting from her work-bag, much 
 to the consternation of the proprietor of the place. 
 
 "How nice you ve got things fixed up, Mr. Bing- 
 ham," Hepsey remarked, gazing serenely at the se 
 ductive variety of bottles and glasses, and the glare of 
 mirrors behind the bar. "Nothin like havin a fine 
 lookin place to draw trade. Is business prosperin 
 now-a-days?" 
 
 Silas turned three shades redder, and stammered 
 badly as he replied: 
 
 "Yes, I m doin as well as I can expect er I sup 
 pose." 
 
 "Probably as well as your customers are doin , I 
 should imagine? You don t need to get discouraged. 
 It takes time to work up a trade like yours in a nice, 
 decent neighborhood like this." 
 
 Silas stared hard at the unwelcome intruder, glanc 
 ing apprehensively at the door from which several 
 customers had already turned away when, through the 
 
i 9 4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 glass, they had caught sight of Mrs. Burke. He was 
 desperately ill at ease, and far from responding cor 
 dially to Hepsey s friendly advances; and his ner 
 vousness increased as his patrons continually retreat 
 ed, occasionally grinning derisively at him through 
 the glass in the door. 
 
 "If you don t mind my sayin it, Mrs. Burke, I 
 think you d be a lot more comfortable at my house 
 than you are here." 
 
 "Oh, I m perfectly comfortable, thanks; perfectly 
 comfortable. Don t you worry a bit about me." 
 
 "But this is - a saloon, and it aint just what you 
 might call respectable for ladies to be sittin in a 
 saloon, now, is it?" 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 The question was so sudden, sharp and unexpected 
 that Silas jumped and almost knocked over a bottle of 
 gin, and then stared in silent chagrin at his guest, his 
 nervous lips moving without speech. 
 
 "I don t see," Hepsey continued, "just why the men 
 should have all the fun, and then when a woman 
 takes to enjoyin herself say that it isn t respectable. 
 What s the difference, I d like to know? This is a 
 right cheerful place, and I feel just like stayin as 
 long as I want to. There s no law against a woman 
 goin to a saloon, is there? I saw Jane Dwire come 
 
TEMPERANCE REFORM 195 
 
 out of Here Saturday night. To be sure, Jane aint 
 just what you d call a society lady, as you might say; 
 but as long as I behave myself I don t see why I 
 should go." 
 
 "But, ma am," Silas protested in wratful despera 
 tion, "I must ask you to go. You ll hurt my trade 
 if you stay here any longer." 
 
 "Hurt your trade ! Nonsense ! You aren t half as 
 polite as I thought you were. I m awful popular 
 with the gentlemen. You ought to be payin me a 
 commission to sit here and entertain your customers, 
 instead of insinuatin that I aint welcome. Ah ! Here 
 comes Martin Crowfoot. Haven t seen Martin in 
 the longest time." 
 
 Martin slouched in and reached the bar and or 
 dered before he caught sight of Mrs. Burke. He was 
 just raising the glass to his lips when Hepsey stepped 
 up briskly^ and extending her hand, exclaimed: 
 
 "How do you do, Martin? How are the folks at 
 home? Awful glad to see you." 
 
 Martin stared vacantly at Mrs. Burke, dropped his 
 glass, and muttered incoherently. Then he bolted 
 hastily from the place without paying for his drink. 
 
 Bingham was now getting a bit hysterical over the 
 situation, and was about to make another vigorous 
 protest, when Hiram Green entered and called for 
 
196 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 some beer. Again Hepsey extended her hand cor 
 dially, and Hiram jumped as if he had seen a ghost 
 for they had been friendly for years. 
 
 "Hepsey Burke, what in the name of all that s de 
 cent are you doin in a place like this?" he demanded 
 when he could get his breath. "Don t you know 
 you ll ruin your reputation if you re seen sittin in a 
 saloon?" 
 
 "Oh, don t let that worry you, Hiram. My repu 
 tation d freeze a stroke of lightnin . You don t seem 
 to be worryin much about your own reputation." 
 
 "Oh well, a man can do a lot of things a woman 
 can t, without losin his reputation." 
 
 For an instant the color flamed into Mrs. Burke s 
 face as she retorted hotly: 
 
 "Yes, there s the whole business. A man can drink, 
 and knock the seventh commandment into a cocked 
 hat; and then when he wants to settle down and get 
 married he demands a wife as white as snow. If he 
 gets drunk, it s a lark. If she gets drunk, it s a crime. 
 But I didn t come here to preach or hold a revival, 
 and as for my welfare and my reputation, Mr. Bing- 
 ham and I was just havin a pleasant afternoon to 
 gether when you came in and interrupted us. He s 
 awful nice when you get to know him real intimate. 
 Now, Hiram, I hate to spoil your fun, and you do 
 
TEMPERANCE REFORM 197 
 
 i 
 
 look a bit thirsty. Suppose you have a lemonade on 
 me, if you re sure it won t go to your head. It isn t 
 often that we get out like this togeher. Lemonades 
 for two, Mr. Bingham; and make Hiram s real 
 sweet." 
 
 Mrs. Burke enjoyed hugely the disgust and the 
 grimaces with which Green swallowed the syrupy 
 mixture. He then beat a hasty retreat down the 
 street. For two hours Hepsey received all who were 
 courageous enough to venture in, with most engaging 
 smiles and cordial handshakes, until Silas was border 
 ing on madness. Finally he emerged from the bar 
 and mustered up sufficient courage to threaten: 
 
 "Mrs. Burke, if you don t quit, I ll send for the 
 police," he blustered. 
 
 Hepsey gazed calmly at her victim and replied: 
 
 "I wouldn t, if I was in your place." 
 
 "Well then, I give you fair warning I ll put you 
 out myself if you don t go peaceable in five min 
 utes." 
 
 "No, Silas; you re wrong as usual. You can t put 
 me out of here until I m ready to go. I could wring 
 you out like a mop, and drop you down a knot-hole, 
 and nobody d be the wiser." 
 
 The door now opened slowly and a small girl, mis 
 erably clad, entered the saloon. Her head was cov- 
 
198 HEPSEY, BURKE 
 
 ered with a worn, soiled shawl. From underneath 
 the shawl she produced a battered tin pail and placed 
 it on the bar with the phlegmatic remark, "Pa wants 
 a quart of beer." 
 
 Mrs. Burke looked at the girl and then at Bing- 
 ham, and then back at the girl inquiringly. 
 
 "Are you in the habit of gettin beer here, child?" 
 
 "Sure thing!" the girl replied, cheerfully. 
 
 "How old are you?" 
 
 "Ten, goin on eleven." 
 
 "And you sell it to her?" Hepsey asked, turning 
 to Bingham. 
 
 "Oh, it s for her father. He sends for it." He 
 frowned at the child and she quickly disappeared, 
 leaving the can behind her. 
 
 "Does he? But I thought you said that a saloon 
 was no place for a woman; and surely it can t be a 
 decent place for a girl under age. Now my friend, 
 I ve got somethin to say to you." 
 
 "You are the very devil and all," Silas remarked. 
 
 "Thanks, Silas. The devil sticks to his job, any 
 way; and owin to the likes of you he wins out, nine 
 times out of ten. Now will you clear out of this 
 location, or won t you?" 
 
 "Another day like this would send me to the luna 
 tic asylum." 
 
i 9 9 
 
 "Then I ll be around in the mornin at six-thirty 
 sharp." 
 
 "You just get out of here," he threatened. 
 
 "If you promise to clear out yourself within three 
 days." 
 
 "I guess I d clear out of Heaven itself to get rid 
 of you." 
 
 "Very well; and if you are still here Saturday after 
 noon, ten of us women will come and sit on your 
 steps until you go. A woman can t vote whether you 
 shall be allowed to entice her men-folk into a place 
 like this, and at the very church door; but the aver 
 age woman can be mighty disagreeable when she 
 tries." 
 
 Silas Bingham had a good business head: he reck 
 oned up the costs and cleared out. 
 
II 
 
 EFORE the year was over Mrs. Betty had be 
 come popular with Maxwell s parishioners 
 through her unfailing good-nature, cordiality 
 and persistent optimism. Even Mrs. Nolan, who 
 lived down by the bridge, and made rag carpets, and 
 suffered from chronic dyspepsia, remarked to Mrs. 
 Burke that she thought the parson s wife was very 
 nice " cause she aint a bit better than any of the rest 
 of us," which tribute to Mrs. Betty s tact made 
 Mrs. Burke smile and look pleased. All the young 
 
 200 
 
NOTICE TO QUIT 201 
 
 men and girls of the parish simply adored her, and it 
 was marvelous how she managed to keep in touch 
 with all the guilds, do her own housework, and learn 
 to know everyone intimately. Hepsey warned her 
 that she was attempting to do too much. 
 
 "The best parson s wife," she said, "is the one who 
 makes the rest work, while she attends to her own 
 household, and keeps her health. Her business is not 
 to do the work of the parson, but to look after him, 
 keep him well nourished, and cheer him up a little bit 
 when he is tempted to take the next trolley for Tim- 
 buctoo." 
 
 The retort was so tempting that Mrs. Betty could 
 not help saying: 
 
 "There s not a person in this town who does so 
 much for others as you do, and who makes so little 
 fuss about it. It s the force of your example that has 
 led me astray, you see." 
 
 "Hm!" Hepsey replied. "I m glad you called my 
 attention to it. I shall try to break myself of the 
 habit at once." 
 
 As for Maxwell, his practical helpfulness in for 
 warding the social life of the place, without in the 
 least applying that phase of his activities as a lever 
 for spiritual upheavals, and his ready sympathy for 
 and interest in the needs and doings of young and old, 
 
202 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 irrespective of class or caste, gradualy reaped for him 
 the affection and respect of all sorts and conditions. 
 In fact, the year had been a pleasant one for him, and 
 was marred by only one circumstance, the continued 
 and growing hostility of his Senior Warden, Mr. 
 Bascom. From the first, he had been distinctly un 
 friendly towards his rector; but soon after Maxwell s 
 marriage, his annoying opposition was quite open and 
 pronounced, and the weight of his personal influence 
 was thrown against every move which Maxwell made 
 towards the development of the parish life and work. 
 
 To those more "in the know" than the Maxwells 
 themselves, it was evident that a certain keen aggres 
 siveness evinced by the Senior Warden was foreign to 
 his phlegmatic, brooding character, and it was clear 
 to them that the actively malicious virus was being 
 administered by the disappointed Virginia. That she 
 was plotting punishment, in revenge for wounded 
 amour -pro-pre, was clear to the initiated, who were 
 apprehensive of the bomb she was evidently preparing 
 to burst over the unconscious heads of the rector and 
 his wife. But what could her scheme be? 
 
 Gradually Mrs. Burke noticed that Betty began to 
 show fatigue and anxiety, and was losing the fresh 
 ness of her delicate color; while Donald had become 
 silent and reserved, and wore a worried look which 
 
NOTICE TO QUIT 203 
 
 was quite unnatural to him. Something was going 
 wrong; of that she felt sure; but observant though 
 she was, she failed to trace the trouble to its source. 
 
 Matters came to a crisis one day when Maxwell 
 was informed that some one was waiting to see him 
 in the parlor. The visitor was dressed in very pro 
 nounced clothes, and carried himself with a self- 
 assertive swagger. Maxwell had seen him in Bas- 
 com s office, and knew who was waiting for him long 
 before he reached the parlor, by the odor of patchouli 
 which penetrated to the hall. 
 
 "Good morning, Mr. Nelson," said Maxwell. 
 "Did you wish to see me?" 
 
 "Yes, I did, Mr. Maxwell, and I am sure it is a 
 great pleasure." 
 
 The man seated himself comfortably in a large 
 chair, put the tips of his fingers together, and gazed 
 about the room with an expression of pleased patron 
 age. 
 
 "Very pretty home you have here," he remarked 
 suavely. 
 
 "Yes," Maxwell replied. "We manage to make 
 ourselves comfortable. Did you wish to see me on 
 business?" 
 
 "Oh yes," the lawyer replied, "a mere technicality. 
 I represent the firm of Bascom & Nelson, or rather I 
 
204 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 should say I am Mr. Bascom s legal agent just at 
 present, as I have not yet been admitted as his part 
 ner " 
 
 The man stopped, smirked, and evidently relished 
 prolonging his interview with Maxwell, who was get 
 ting impatient. Maxwell drew his watch from his 
 pocket, and there was a look in his eyes which made 
 the lawyer proceed: 
 
 "The fact is, Rector, that I came to see you on a 
 matter of business about the rectory as Mr. Bas 
 com s agent." 
 
 "Will you kindly state it?" 
 
 "It concerns the use of this house." 
 
 "In what way? This is the rectory of the church, 
 and the rental of it is part of my salary." 
 
 "You are mistaken. Mr. Bascom owns the house, 
 and you are staying here merely on sufferance." 
 
 For a moment Maxwell was too astonished to 
 speak; then he began: 
 
 "Mr. Bascom owns this house? What do you 
 mean? The house is part of the property of the 
 church." 
 
 "You are mistaken, my friend." 
 
 "You will kindly not repeat that form of address, 
 and explain what you mean," replied Maxwell heat 
 edly 
 
NOTICE TO QUIT 205 
 
 "Come, come; there s no use in losing your tem 
 per, my dear rector," retorted Nelson offensively. 
 
 "You have just two minutes to explain yourself, 
 sir; and I strongly advise you to improve the oppor 
 tunity, before I put you out of this house." 
 
 Nelson, like most bullies, was a coward, and evi 
 dently concluded that he would take no risks. He 
 continued : 
 
 "As I said before, Sylvester Bascom practically 
 owns this house. It does not belong to the church 
 property. The Episcopals made a big bluff at buying 
 it years ago, and made a very small payment in cash; 
 Bascom took a mortgage for the rest. The interest 
 was paid regularly for a while, and then payments 
 began to fall off. As you have reason to know, Bas 
 com is a generous and kind-hearted man, who would 
 not for the world inconvenience his rector, and so he 
 has allowed the matter to go by default, until the back 
 interest amounts to a considerable sum. Of course 
 the mortgage is long past due, and as he needs the 
 money, he has commissioned me to see you and in 
 form you that he is about to foreclose, and to ask you 
 to vacate the premises as soon as you conveniently 
 can. I hope that I make myself reasonably clear." 
 
 In a perfectly steady voice Maxwell replied : 
 
 "What you say is clear enough ; whether it is true 
 
206 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 is another matter. I will see Mr. Bascom at once, 
 and ask for his own statement of the case." 
 
 "I don t think it necessary to see him, as he has 
 expressly authorized me to act for him in the case." 
 
 "Then I suppose you came her to serve the notice 
 of ejectment on me." 
 
 a Oh, we wont use such strong language as that. 
 I came here merely to tell you that the house must be 
 vacated soon as possible. Mr. Bascom has gone to 
 New York on business and will not be back for two 
 weeks. Meantime he wishes the house vacated, so 
 that he can rent it to other parties." 
 
 "When does the Senior Warden propose to eject 
 his rector, if I may be allowed to ask?" 
 
 "Oh, there is no immediate hurry Any time this 
 week will do." 
 
 "What does he want for this place?" 
 
 "I believe he expects fifteen dollars a month." 
 
 "Well, of course that is prohibitive. Tell Mr. Bas 
 com that we will surrender the house on Wednesday, 
 and that we are greatly indebted to him for allowing 
 us to occupy it rent-free for so long a time." 
 
 As Donald showed the objectionable visitor out of 
 the house, he caught sight of Hepsey Burke walking 
 towards it. He half hoped she would pass by, but 
 with a glance of suspicion and barely civil greeting 
 
NOTICE TO QUIT 207 
 
 to Nelson as he walked away, she came on, and with 
 a friendly nod to Maxwell entered the rectory. 
 
 "I ve just been talkin to Mrs. Betty for her good," 
 she remarked. "I met her in town, lookin as peaked 
 as if she d been fastin double shifts, and I had a 
 notion to come in and complete the good work on 
 yourself." 
 
 Maxwell s woried face told its own story. He was 
 so nonplused by the bolt just dropped from the blue 
 that he could find no words of responsive raillery 
 wherewith to change the subject. 
 
 Hepsey led the way to the parlor and seated her 
 self, facing him judicially. In her quick mind the 
 new evidence soon crystallized into proof of her al 
 ready half-formed suspicions. She came straight to 
 the point. 
 
 "Is Bascom making you any trouble? If he is, 
 say so, cause I happen to have the whip-hand so far 
 as he s concerned. That Nelson s nothin but a tool 
 of his, and a dull tool at that." 
 
 "He s an objectionable person, I must say," re 
 marked Maxwell, and hesitated to trust himself 
 further. 
 
 Mrs. Burke gazed at Maxwell for some time in 
 silence and then began: 
 
 "You look about done up I don t want to be pry- 
 
208 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 in , but I guess you d better own up. Something s 
 the matter." 
 
 "I am just worried and anxious, and I suppose I 
 can t help showing it," he replied wearily. 
 
 "So you re worried, are you. Now don t you get 
 the worried habit; if it makes a start it will grow on 
 you till you find yourself worryin for fear the moon 
 wont rise. Worryin s like usin rusty scissors : it sets 
 your mouth awry. You just take things as they come, 
 and when it seems as if everything was goin to smash 
 and you couldn t help it, put on your overalls and 
 paint a fence, or hammer tacks, or any old thing that 
 comes handy. What has that rascal Bascom been 
 doin ? Excuse me my diplomacy s of the hammer- 
 and-tongs order; you re not gettin your salary paid?" 
 
 For some time Maxwell hesitated and then an 
 swered: 
 
 "Well, I guess I might as well tell you, because you 
 will know all about it anyway in a day or two, and 
 you might as well get a correct version of the affair 
 from me, though I hate awfully to trouble you. The 
 parish owes me two hundred and fifty dollars. I spoke 
 to Reynolds about it several times, but he says that 
 Bascom and several of his intimate friends wont pay 
 their subscriptions promptly, and so he can t pay me. 
 But the shortage in my salary is not the worst of it. 
 
NOTICE TO QUIT 209 
 
 Did you know that the rectory was heavily mort 
 gaged, and that Bascom holds the mortgage?" 
 
 "Yes, I knew it; but we paid something down, and 
 the interest s been kept up, and we hoped that if we 
 did that Bascom would be satisfied." 
 
 "It seems that the interest has not been paid in some 
 time, and the real reason why Nelson called just now 
 was to inform me that as Bascom was about to fore 
 close we must get out as soon as we could. I told him 
 that we would leave on Wednesday next." 
 
 For a moment there was a look on Mrs. Burke s 
 face which Maxwell never had seen before, and which 
 boded ill for Bascom: but she made no immediate 
 reply. 
 
 "To tell you the truth," she said finally, "I have 
 been afraid of this. That was the only thing that 
 worried me about your gettin married. But I felt 
 that no good would come from worryin , and that if 
 Bascom was goin to play you some dirty trick, he d 
 do it; and now he s done it. What s got into the man, 
 all of a sudden? He s a skinflint always closer than 
 hair to a dog s back; but I don t believe I ve ever 
 known him do somethin downright ugly, like this." 
 
 "Oh, I know well enough," remarked Donald. "If 
 I had been aware of how matters stood about the rec 
 tory, I should have acted differently. I wrote him a 
 
210 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 pretty stiff letter a day or two ago, calling upon him, 
 as Senior Warden, to use his influence to fulfill the 
 contract with me, and get the arrears of my salary 
 paid up. I suppose he had thought I would just get 
 out of the place if my salary was held back and he s 
 wanted to get rid of me for some time. Now, he s 
 taken this other means of ejecting me not only from 
 his house but from the town itself. He knows I can t 
 afford to pay the rent out of my salary let alone out 
 of half of it!" He laughed rather bitterly. 
 
 "He ll be singing a different tune, before I ve done 
 with him," said Hepsey. "Now you leave this to me 
 I ll have a twitch on old Bascom s nose that ll make 
 him think of something else than ejecting his rector. 
 I ll go and visit with him a little this afternoon." 
 
 "But Nelson said that he was in New York." 
 
 "I know better than that," snorted Hepsey. "But 
 I guess he ll want to go there, and stay the winter 
 there too, maybe, when I ve had my say. No sir 
 I m goin to take my knittin up to his office, and sit 
 awhile; and if he doesn t have the time of his life it 
 wont be my fault." 
 
 She turned to leave the room, with a belligerent 
 swing of her shoulders. 
 
 "Mrs. Burke," said Maxwell gently, "you are kind 
 ness itself; but I don t want you to do this at least 
 
NOTICE TO QUIT 211 
 
 not yet. I want to fight this thing through myself, 
 and rather to shame Bascom into doing the right thing 
 than force him to do it even if the latter were possi 
 ble. I must think things out a bit. I shall want your 
 help we always do, Betty and I." 
 
 "I don t know but you re right; but if your plan 
 don t work, remember mine mil. Well, Mrs. Betty ll 
 be coming in soon, and I ll leave you. Meantime I 
 shall just go home and load my guns: I m out for 
 Bascom s hide, sooner or later." 
 
WHEN Betty returned, and Donald told her 
 the happenings of the morning, the clouds 
 dispersed somewhat, and before long the 
 dictum that "there is humor in all things" even in 
 ejection from house and home seemed proven true. 
 After lunch they sat in Donald s den, and were laugh 
 ingly suggesting every kind of habitat, possible and 
 impossible, from purchasing and fitting up the ice 
 man s covered wagon and perambulating round the 
 town, to taking a store and increasing their income 
 
 212 
 
THE NEW RECTORY 213 
 
 by purveying Betty s tempting preserves and confec 
 tions. 
 
 Their consultation was interrupted by the arrival 
 of Nickey, armed with a Boy Scouts "Manual." 
 
 "Gee! Mr. Maxwell: Uncle Jonathan Jackson s 
 all right; I ll never do another thing to guy him. He s 
 loaned us his tent for our Boy Scouts corpse, and 
 I ve been studyin out how to pitch it proper, so I 
 can show the kids the ropes; but " 
 
 "Donald!" cried Betty. "The very thing let s 
 camp out on the church lot." 
 
 "By Jinks!" exclaimed Maxwell, unclerically. 
 "We ll have that tent up this very afternoon if 
 Nickey will lend it to us, second hand, and get his 
 men together." 
 
 Nickey flushed with delight. "You betcher life I 
 will," he shouted excitedly. "Is it for a revival 
 stunt? You aint goin to live there, are you?" 
 
 "That s just what we are going to do, if Jonathan, 
 and you ll lend us the tent for a few months. Mr. 
 Bascom wants to let the rectory to some other ten 
 ants, and we ve got to find somewhere else to lay our 
 heads. Why, it s the very way! There s not a thing 
 against it, that I can see. Let s go and see the tent, 
 and consult Mrs. Burke. Come along, both of you." 
 
 And off they hurried, like three children bent on a 
 
2i 4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 new game. It was soon arranged, and Hepsey rose 
 to the occasion with her usual vim. To her and Nick- 
 ey the transportation of the tent was consigned, while 
 Maxwell went off to purchase the necessary boarding 
 for a floor, and Mrs. Betty returned to the rectory 
 to pack up their belongings. 
 
 "We ll have to occupy our new quarters to-night," 
 said Maxwell, "or our friend the enemy may raid the 
 church lot in the night, and vanish with tent and all." 
 
 An hour or so later, when Maxwell arrived at the 
 church, clad in overalls and riding on a wagon of 
 planks, he found Mrs. Burke and Nickey with a con 
 tingent of stalwarts awaiting him. There was a heap 
 of canvas and some coils of rope lying on the ground 
 near by. Hepsey greeted him with a smile from un 
 der the shade of her sun-bonnet. 
 
 "You seem ready for business, even if you don t 
 look a little bit like the Archbishop of Canterbury in 
 that rig," she remarked. "I m afraid there ll be an 
 awful scandal in the parish if you go wanderin around 
 dressed like a carpenter; but it can t be helped; and 
 if the Bishop excommunicates you, I ll give you a job 
 on the farm." 
 
 "I don t mind about the looks of it; but I suppose 
 the vestry will have something to say about our camp 
 ing on church property." 
 
THE NEW RECTORY 215 
 
 "That needn t worry you. Maybe it ll bring em 
 to their senses, and maybe, they ll be ashamed when 
 they see their parson driven out of his house and 
 havin to live in a tent, though I Ymt holdin out 
 much hope of that, to you. Folks that are the most 
 religious are usually the hardest to shame. I always 
 said, financially speakin , that preachin wasn t a sound 
 business. It s all give and no get; but this is the first 
 time I ve ever heard of a parish wanting a parson to 
 preach without eating and to sleep without a roof over 
 his head. Most of us seem to forget that rectors are 
 human being like the rest of us. If religion is worth 
 havin , it s worth payin for." 
 
 The planking was soon laid, and the erection of the 
 tent was left to Nickey s captaining all hands assist 
 ing. With his manual in one hand he laid it out, rope 
 by rope, poles in position, and each helper at his place. 
 Then at a word, up it soared, with a "bravo" from 
 the puzzled onlookers. 
 
 "We want a poet here," laughed Maxwell. "Long 
 fellow s Building of the Ship, or Ralph Connor s 
 Building the Barn aren t a circumstance to Nickey s 
 Pitching the Parson s Tent. " 
 
 It was next divided off into three convenient rooms, 
 for sleeping, eating and cooking and Hepsey, with 
 three scouts, having driven across to the old rectory 
 
216 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 while the finishing touches were being put to the new, 
 she and her military escort soon returned with Mrs. 
 Betty, and a load of furniture and other belongings. 
 
 "Why, this is perfect!" cried Betty. "The only 
 thing lacking to complete the illusion is a trout brook 
 in the front yard, and the smell of pines and the damp 
 mossy earth of the forests. We ll wear our old 
 clothes, and have a bonfire at night, and roast potatoes 
 and corn in the hot coals, and have the most beautiful 
 time imaginable." 
 
 The town visitors who still lingered on the scene 
 were received cordially by Maxwell and Mrs. Betty, 
 who seemed to be in rather high spirits; but when the 
 visitors made any inquiries concerning structural mat 
 ters they were politely referred to Nickey Burke for 
 any information they desired, as he had assumed offi 
 cial management of the work. 
 
 Just before the various helpers left at six o clock, 
 smoke began to issue from the little stove-pipe stick 
 ing out through the canvas of the rear of the tent, 
 and Mrs. Betty, with her sleeves rolled up to her el 
 bows and her cooking apron on, came out to watch it 
 with all the pride of a good housekeeper. 
 
 "Isn t it jolly, Mrs. Burke," she exclaimed. "I was 
 afraid that it would not draw, but it really does, 
 you see. This will be more fun than a month at the 
 
THE NEW RECTORY 217 
 
 seashore; and to-morrow we are going to have you 
 and Nickey dine with us in the tent; so don t make 
 any other engagement. Don t forget." 
 
 By noon of the following day everybody in town 
 knew that the Maxwells had been dispossessed, and 
 were camping on the church lot; and before night 
 most of the women and a few of the men had called 
 to satisfy their curiosity, and to express their sym 
 pathy with the rector and his wife, who, however, 
 seemed to be quite comfortable and happy in their 
 new quarters. On the other hand, some of the vestry 
 hinted strongly that tents could not be put upon church 
 property without their formal permission, and a few 
 of the more pious suggested that it was little short of 
 sacrilege thus to riolate the sanctity of a consecrated 
 place. Nickey had painted a large sign with the word 
 RECTORY on it, in truly rustic lettering, and had hung 
 it at the entrance of the tent. The Editor of the 
 Durford Daily Bugle appeared with the village 
 photographer, and after an interview with Maxwell 
 requested him and his wife to pose for a picture in 
 front of the tent. This they declined with thanks; 
 but a half-column article giving a sensational account 
 of the affair appeared in the next issue of the paper, 
 headed by a half-tone picture of the tent and the 
 church. Public sentiment ran strongly against Bas- 
 
2i 8 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 com, to whom rumor quickly awarded the onus of the 
 incident. In reply to offers of hospitality, Maxwell 
 and Mrs. Betty insisted that they were very comfort 
 able for the time being, and were not going to move 
 or make any plans for the Immediate future. The 
 morning of the fourth day, Maxwell announced to 
 Mrs. Betty that he had a strong presentiment that 
 Bascom would soon make another move in the game, 
 and he was not surprised when he saw Nelson ap 
 proaching. 
 
 "Thank goodness we are in the open air, this time," 
 Maxwell remarked to Betty as he caught sight of the 
 visitor. "I ll talk to him outside and perhaps you d 
 better shut the door and keep out the language. I 
 may have to express myself more forcibly than po 
 litely." 
 
 Nelson began: 
 
 "I am sorry to have to intrude upon you again, Mr. 
 Maxwell, but I must Inform you that you will have 
 to vacant that tent and find lodgings elsewhere." 
 
 "Why, pray? This tent is my property for as long t 
 as I require it." 
 
 "Ah ! But you see it has been put up on the land 
 that belongs to the church, and you have no title to 
 use the land, you know, for private purposes." 
 
 "Pardon me," Maxwell replied, "but while the legal 
 
THE NEW RECTORY 219 
 
 title to all church property is held by the wardens and 
 vestry collectively, the freehold use of the church 
 building and grounds is held by the rector for the 
 purpose of the exercise of his office as rector. No 
 church property is injured by this tent. This lot was 
 originally purchased for a rectory. To all intents and 
 purposes (excuse me; I am hot punning) this tent is 
 the rectory pro tern. The use of a rectory was offered 
 me as part of the original agreement when I accepted 
 the call to come to this parish." 
 
 "Hm! You speak quite as if you belonged to the 
 legal profession yourself, Mr. Maxwell. However, 
 I am afraid that you will have to get off the lot just 
 the same. You must remember that I am simply 
 carrying out Mr. Bascom s instructions." 
 
 "Very well; please give my compliments to Mr. 
 Bascom and tell him that he is welcome to come here 
 and put me out as soon as he thinks best. Moreover, 
 you might remind him that he is not an autocrat, and 
 that he cannot take any legal action in the matter with 
 out a formal meeting of the vestry, which I will call 
 and at which I will preside. He can appeal to the 
 Bishop if he sees fit." 
 
 "Then I understand that you propose to stay where 
 you are, in defiance of Mr. Bascom s orders?" 
 
 "I most certainly do. It is well known that Mr. 
 
220 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Bascom has successfully intimidated every one of my 
 predecessors; but he has met his match for once. I 
 shall not budge from this tent until I see fit." 
 
 "Well, I should be very sorry to see you forcibly 
 ejected." 
 
 "Don t waste any sympathy on me, sir. If Mr. 
 Bascom attempts to molest me, I shall take the mat 
 ter to the courts and sue him for damages." 
 
 "Your language is somewhat forcible, considering 
 that you are supposed to be his pastor and spiritual 
 advisor." 
 
 "Very well; tell Mr. Bascom that as his spiritual 
 advisor I strongly suggest that his spiritual condition 
 will not be much improved by attempting to molest 
 us here." 
 
 "But to be perfectly frank with you, Mr. Maxwell, 
 he can force you to leave, by stopping the payment 
 of your salary, even if he does not eject you by 
 force." 
 
 "I rather think not. Until he can bring specific 
 charges against me, he is liable for the fulfillment of 
 our original contract, in his writing. Moreover, I 
 may have more friends in the parish than he im 
 agines." 
 
 Nelson was visibly disturbed by the rector s firm 
 hold on the situation. 
 
THE NEW RECTORY 221 
 
 "But," he stuttered, "Mr. Bascom is the richest 
 man in the parish, and his influence is strong. You 
 will find that everyone defers to his judgment as a 
 matter of course." 
 
 "All right; then let me add, for your own informa 
 tion, that I can earn my living honestly in this town 
 and take care of myself without Mr. Bascom s assist 
 ance, if necessary; and do my parish work at the same 
 time. I have two muscular arms, and if it comes down 
 to earning a livelihood, independent of my salary, I 
 can work on the state road hauling stone. William 
 son told me yesterday he was looking for men." 
 
 "I can scarcely think that the parishioners would 
 hold with their rector working like a common laborer, 
 Mr. Maxwell," admonished Nelson. 
 
 "We are all common, in the right sense, Mr. 
 Nelson. My view is that work of any kind is always 
 honorable when necessary, except in the eyes of the 
 ignorant. If Mr. Bascom is mortified to have me 
 earn my living by manual labor, when he is not 
 ashamed to repudiate a contract, and try to force me 
 out of the parish by a process of slow starvation, 
 his sense of fitness equals his standard of honor." 
 
 "Well, I am sure that I do not know what I can 
 do." 
 
 "Do you want me to tell you?" 
 
222 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "If it will relieve your feelings," Nelson drawled 
 insolently. 
 
 "Then get out of this place and stay out. If you 
 return again for any purpose whatever I am afraid it 
 is I who will have to eject you. We will not argue 
 the matter again." 
 
 "Well, I regret this unfortunate encounter, and to 
 have been forced to listen to the unguarded vitupera 
 tion of my rector." With which retort he departed. 
 
 Soon after Nelson had left, Mrs. Burke called in, 
 and Betty gave her a highly amusing and somewhat 
 colored version of the interview. 
 
 "You know, I think that our theological seminaries 
 don t teach budding parsons all they ought to, by any 
 means," she concluded. 
 
 "I quite agree with you, Betty dear; and I thank 
 my stars for college athletics," laughed Maxwell, 
 squaring up to the tent-pole. 
 
 "What did I tell you," reminded Hepsey, "when 
 you had all those books up in your room at my place. 
 It s just as important for a country parson to know 
 how to make a wiped-joint or run a chicken farm or 
 pull teeth, as it is to study church history and theol 
 ogy. A parson s got to live somehow, and a trade 
 school ought to be attached to every seminary, ac 
 cording to my way of thinking! St. Paul made tents, 
 
THE NEW RECTORY 223 
 
 and wasn t a bit ashamed of it. Well I m mighty glad 
 that Bascom has got come up with for once. Don t 
 you give in, and it will be my turn to make the next 
 move, if this don t bring him to his senses. You 
 just wait and see." 
 
Hit 
 
 
 HEPSEY had been so busy with helping the 
 Maxwells that for some time no opportunity 
 had occurred for Jonathan to press his ardent 
 suit. Since his first attempt and its abrupt term 
 ination, he had been somewhat bewildered; he 
 had failed to decide whether he was an engaged man 
 open to congratulations, or a rejected suitor to be 
 condoled with. He tried to recall exactly what she 
 had said. As near as he could recollect, it was : "I ll 
 think it over, and perhaps some day " Then he 
 
 224 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 225 
 
 had committed the Indiscretion of grasping her hand, 
 causing her to drop her stitches before she had ended 
 what she was going to say. He could have sworn at 
 himself to think that it was all his fault that she had 
 stopped just at the critical moment, when she might 
 have committed herself and given him some real en 
 couragement. But he consoled himself by the thought 
 that she had evidently taken him seriously at last; and 
 so to the "perhaps some day" he added, in imagina 
 tion, the words "I will take you"; and this seemed 
 reasonable. 
 
 The matter was more difficult from the very fact 
 that they had been on such intimate terms for such 
 a long time, and she had never hitherto given him 
 any reason to think that she cared for him other than 
 as a good neighbor and a friend. Ever since the death 
 of his wife, she seemed to feel that he had been left 
 an orphan in a cold and unsympathetic world, and 
 that it was her duty to look after him much as she 
 would a child. She was in the habit of walking over 
 whenever she pleased and giving directions to Mary 
 McGuire in regard to matters which she thought 
 needed attention in his house. And all this had been 
 done in the most open and matter-of-fact way, so that 
 the most accomplished gossip in Durford never ac 
 cused her of making matrimonial advances to the 
 
226 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 lonesome widower. Even Jonathan himself had been 
 clever enough to see that she regarded him much as 
 she would an overgrown boy, and had always accept 
 ed her many attentions without misinterpreting them. 
 She was a born manager, and she managed him ; that 
 was all. Nothing could be more unsentimental than 
 the way in which she would make him take off his 
 coat during a friendly call, and let her sponge and 
 press it for him; or the imperative fashion in which 
 she sent him to the barber s to have his beard trimmed. 
 How could a man make love to a woman after she 
 had acted like this ? 
 
 But he reminded himself that if he was ever to 
 win her he must begin to carry out the advice outlined 
 by Mrs. Betty; and so the apparently unsuspecting 
 Hepsey would find on her side porch in the morning 
 some specially fine corn which had been placed there 
 after dark without the name of the donor. Once a 
 fine melon was accompanied by a bottle of perfum 
 ery; and again a basket of peaches had secreted in 
 its center a package of toilet soap strong enough to 
 kill the grass," as Hepsey remarked as she sniffed at 
 it. Finally matters reached a climax when a bushel 
 of potatoes arrived on the scene in the early dawn, 
 and with it a canary bird in a tin cage. When Hep 
 sey saw Jonathan later, she remarked casually that 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 227 
 
 she "guessed she d keep the potatoes; but she didn t 
 need a canary bird any more than a turtle needs a 
 tooth-pick; and he had better take it away and get 
 his money back." 
 
 However, Jonathan never allowed her occasional 
 rebuffs to discourage him or stop his attentions. He 
 kept a close watch on all Hepsey s domestic interests, 
 and if there were any small repairs to be made at 
 Thunder Cliff, a hole in the roof to be mended, or 
 the bricks on the top of the chimney to be relaid, 
 or the conductor pipe to be readjusted, Jonathan was 
 on the spot. Then Jonathan would receive in return 
 a layer cake with chopped walnuts in the filling, and 
 would accept it in the same matter-of-fact way in 
 which Hepsey permitted his services as general care 
 taker. 
 
 This give-and-take business went on for some time. 
 At last it occurred to him that Mrs. Burke s front 
 porch ought to be painted, and he conceived the notion 
 of doing the work without her knowledge, as a pleas 
 ant surprise to her. He waited a long time for some 
 day when she should be going over to shop at Mar 
 tin s Junction, when Nickey usually managed to be 
 taken along, so that he could do the work unob 
 served. Meantime, he collected from the hardware 
 store various cards with samples of different colors 
 
228 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 on them. These he would combine and re-combine 
 at his leisure, in the effort to decide just what colors 
 would harmonize. He finally decided that a rather 
 dark blue for the body work would go quite well, 
 with a bright magenta for the trimmings, and laid in 
 a stock of paint and brushes, and possessed his soul 
 in patience. 
 
 So one afternoon, arriving home burdened with 
 the spoils of Martin s Junction, great was Mrs. 
 Burke s astonishment and wrath when she discovered 
 the porch resplendent in dark blue and magenta. 
 
 "Sakes alive ! Have I got to live inside of that," 
 she snorted. "Why, it s the worst lookin thing I 
 ever saw. If I don t settle him" she added, " 
 " paintin my porch as if it belonged to him and 
 me as well," she added ambiguously. And, catching 
 up her sunbonnet, she Hastened over to her neigh 
 bor s and inquired for Jonathan. "Sure, he s gone to 
 Martin s Junction to see his brother , Mrs. Burke. 
 He said he d stay over night, and I needn t come in 
 again till to-morrow dinner-time," Mary McGuire 
 replied. 
 
 Hepsey hastened home, and gathering all the rags 
 she could find, she summoned Nickey and Mullen, one 
 of the men from the farm, and they worked with 
 turpentine for nearly two hours, cleaning off the fresh 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 229 
 
 paint from the porch. Then she sent Nickey down 
 to the hardware store for some light gray paint and 
 some vivid scarlet paint, and a bit of dryer. It did 
 not take very long to repaint her porch gray every 
 trace of the blue and the magenta having been re 
 moved by the vigorous efforts of the three. 
 
 When it was finished, she opened the can of scar 
 let, and pouring in a large quantity of dryer she sent 
 Nickey over to see if Mary McGuire had gone home. 
 All three set to work that evening to paint the porch 
 in front of Jonathan s house. At first Mullen pro 
 tested anxiously that it was none of his business to 
 be painting another man s porch, but Mrs. Burke 
 gave him a look which changed his convictions; so 
 he and Nickey proceeded gleefully to fulfill their ap 
 pointed task, while she got supper. 
 
 When the work was quite finished. Hepsey went 
 over to inspect it, and remarked thoughtfully to her 
 self : "I should think that a half pint of dryer might 
 be able to get in considerable work before to-morrow 
 noon. I hope Jonathan ll like scarlet. To be sure 
 it does look rather strlkin on a white house; but then 
 variety helps to relieve the monotony of a dead alive 
 town like Durford; and if he don t like it plain, he 
 can trim it green. I ll teach him to come paintin my 
 house without so much as a by-your-leave, or with- 
 
2 3 o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 your-leave, lettin the whole place think things." 
 
 As it happened, Jonathan returned late that night 
 to Durford quite too late to see the transformation 
 of his own front porch, and since he entered by the 
 side door as usual, he did not even smell the new 
 paint. The next morning he sauntered over to Thun 
 der Cliff, all agog for his reward, and Mrs. Burke 
 greeted him at her side door, smiling sweetly. 
 
 "Good mornin , Jonathan. It was awful good of 
 you to paint my front porch. It has needed paintin 
 for some time now, but I never seemed to get around 
 to it." 
 
 "Don t mention it, Hepsey," Jonathan replied af 
 fably. "Don t mention it. You re always doin some- 
 thin for me, and it s a pity if I can t do a little thing 
 like that for you once in a while." 
 
 Hepsey had strolled round to the front, as if to 
 admire his work, Jonathan following. Suddenly he 
 came to a halt; his jaw dropped, and he stared as if 
 he had gone out of his senses. 
 
 "Such a lovely color; gray just suits the house, you 
 know," Mrs. Burke observed. "You certainly ought 
 to have been an artist, Jonathan. Any man with such 
 an eye for color ought not to be wastin his time on a 
 farm." 
 
 Jonathan still gazed at the porch in amazement, 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 231 
 
 blinked hard, wiped his eyes and his glasses with his 
 handkerchief, and looked again. 
 
 "What s the matter with you? Have you a head 
 ache?" Hepsey inquired solicitously. 
 
 "No, I haven t got no headache; but when I left 
 that porch yesterday noon it was blue, and now I m 
 blamed if it don t seem gray. Does it look gray-like 
 to you, Hepsey?" 
 
 "Why certainly! What s that you say? Do you 
 say you painted it blue? That certainly s mighty 
 queer. But then you know some kinds of paint fade 
 some kinds do !" She nodded, looking suspiciously 
 at the work. 
 
 "Fade!" Jonathan sneered. "Paints don t fade by 
 moonlight in one night. That isn t no faded blue. 
 It s just plain gray. I must be goin* color blind, or 
 something." 
 
 "It looks gray to me, and I m glad it is gray, so 
 don t you worry about it, Jonathan. Blue would be 
 somethin awful on the front of a white house, you 
 know." 
 
 "Well," continued the bewildered Junior Warden, 
 "I m blessed if this isn t the queerest thing I ever see 
 in all my born days. If I catch the fellow that sold 
 me that paint, I ll make it lively for him or my name 
 isn t Jackson." 
 
232 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "OH, I wouldn t do anything like that! What dif 
 ference does it make, so long as I like the color my 
 self; it s my house. I should have been very much 
 put out if you d painted it blue ; yes, I should." 
 
 "But I don t like to be cheated down at the store; 
 and I wont, by gum ! They said it was best quality 
 paint ! I ll go down to Crosscut s and see about this 
 business, right now. I ve traded with him nigh on 
 twenty years, and he don t bamboozle me that way." 
 
 Hepsey turned away choking with laughter, and 
 retreated to her kitchen. 
 
 Jonathan started back towards his house to get his 
 hat and coat, and then for the first time he caught 
 sight of his own porch, done in flaming scarlet, which 
 fairly seemed to radiate heat in the brilliant sunlight. 
 He stood motionless for nearly a minute, paralyzed. 
 Then the color began to rise in his neck and face as 
 he muttered under his breath: 
 
 "Hm ! I m on to the whole business now. I ought 
 to have known that Hepsey would get the best of 
 me. I guess I wont go down to Crosscut s after all." 
 
 Then he walked up to the porch and touched the 
 scarlet paint with his finger and remarked: 
 
 "Set harder than a rock, by gum ! She must have 
 used a whole lot of dryer. I ll get even with her for 
 this. See if I don t." 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 233 
 
 In the afternoon Jonathan brought over some fine 
 apples and presented them to Hepsey, who was knit 
 ting on her side porch. She thanked him for the gift, 
 and the conversation drifted from one thing to an 
 other while she waited for the expected outburst of 
 reproach which she knew would come sooner or later. 
 But curiously enough, Jonathan was more cheery and 
 cordial than usual, and made no allusion whatever to 
 the scarlet porch, which was conspicuously visible 
 from where they sat. Again and again Hepsey led 
 the conversation around to the point where it seemed 
 as if he must break covert, but he remained oblivious, 
 and changed the subject readily. Not a word on the 
 subject passed his lips that afternoon. 
 
 Then, from day to day the neighbors called and 
 inquired of her if Jackson had gone off his head, or 
 what was the matter. His flaming porch outraged 
 Durford s sense of decency. She was at her wits end 
 to answer, without actually lying or compromising 
 herself; so the only thing she said was that she had 
 noticed that he had been acting a bit peculiar lately, 
 now they mentioned it. ^\s time went on, the scarlet 
 porch became the talk of the town. It was duly dis 
 cussed at the sewing society, and the reading club, 
 and the general sentiment was practically unanimous 
 that Jackson must be suffering from incipient cataract 
 
234 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 or senile dementia, and needed a guardian. Even 
 Mary McGuire remarked to Mrs. Burke that she was 
 afraid "that there front porch would sure set the 
 house on fire, if it wasn t put out before." Every 
 body agreed that if his wife had lived, the thing 
 never could have happened. 
 
 Meantime, Jonathan went about his daily business, 
 serene and happy, apparently oblivious of the fact 
 that there was anything unusual in the decoration of 
 his house. When his friends began to chaff him about 
 the porch he seemed surprised, and guessed it was 
 his privilege to paint his house any color he had a 
 mind to, and there was no law ag in* it; it was no 
 body s business but his own. Tastes in color dif 
 fered, and there was no reason in the world why 
 all houses should be painted alike. He liked variety 
 himself, and nobody could say that scarlet wasn t a 
 real cheerful color on a white house. 
 
 Occasionaly people who were driving by stopped 
 to contemplate the porch; and the Durford Daily 
 Bugle devoted a long facetious paragraph to the mat 
 ter. All of which Mrs. Burke knew very well, and it 
 was having its effect on her nerves. The porch was 
 the most conspicuous object in view from Hepsey s 
 sitting-room windows, and every time she entered the 
 room she found herself looking at the flaming terror 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 235 
 
 with increasing exasperation. Verily, if Jonathan 
 wanted revenge he was getting far more than he 
 knew: the biter was badly bit. The matter came to 
 a crisis one day, when Jonathan concluded a discus 
 sion with Mrs. Burke about the pasture fence. She 
 burst out abruptly: 
 
 "Say, Jonathan Jackson, why in the name of con 
 science don t you paint your porch a Christian color? 
 It s simply awful, and I m not goin to sit in my 
 house and have to look at it all winter." 
 
 Jonathan did not seem greatly stirred, and replied 
 in an absent-minded way: 
 
 "Why don t you move your sittin room over to 
 the other side of the house, Hepsey? Then you 
 wouldn t have to see it. Don t you like scarlet?" 
 
 "No, I don t like it, and if you don t paint it out, 
 I will" 
 
 "Don t do nothin rash, Hepsey. You know some 
 times colors fade in the moonlight some colors, that 
 is. Maybe that scarlet porch ll turn to a light gray 
 if you let it alone." 
 
 Mrs. Burke could stand it no longer; so, laying 
 down her work she exploded her pent-up wrath : 
 
 "Jonathan Jackson, if that paint isn t gone before 
 to-morrow, I ll come over and paint it myself." 
 
 "Oh, that isn t necessary, Hepsey. And it might 
 
236 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 set people talkin . But if you wont move your sittin - 
 room to the other side of your own house, why don t 
 you move it over to my house? You wouldn t see so 
 much of the red paint then." 
 
 Hepsey snorted and spluttered in baffled rage. 
 
 "Now, now, Hepsey," soothed Jonathan, "if that 
 don t suit you, I ll tell you what I ll do : I ll paint it 
 over myself on one condition !" 
 
 "And what s that, I d like to know?" 
 
 "That you ll marry me," snapped Jonathan hun 
 grily. 
 
 Instead of resenting such bold tactics on the part 
 of her suitor, Mrs. Burke gazed at him a long time 
 with a rather discouraged look on her face. 
 
 "Land sakes !" she exclaimed at last with assumed 
 weariness and a whimsical smile, "I didn t know I d 
 ever come to this ; but I guess I ll have to marry you 
 to keep you from makin another kind of fool of your 
 self; widowers are such helpless mortals, and you cer 
 tainly do need a guardian." She shook her head at 
 him despondently. 
 
 Jonathan advanced towards her deliberately, and 
 clinched the matter : 
 
 "Well, Hepsey, seein that we re engaged " 
 
 "Engaged? What do you mean? Get away, 
 you " She rose from her chair in a hurry. 
 
COULEUR DE ROSE 237 
 
 "Now Hepsey, a bargain s a bargain: you just said 
 you d have to marry me, and I guess the sooner you 
 do it and have it over with, the better. So, seein 
 that we are engaged to be married, as I was about to 
 remark when you interrupted me ..." Relentless 
 ly he approached her once more. She retreated a step 
 or two. 
 
 "Well ! Sakes alive, Jonathan ! Whatever s come 
 over you to make you so masterful. Well, yes then 
 I suppose a bargain s a bargain, all right. But be 
 fore your side of it s paid up you ve got to go right 
 over and paint that porch of yours a respectable 
 color." 
 
 So, for once, Hepsey s strategy had been manipu 
 lated to her own defeat: Jonathan went off to town 
 with flying colors, and bought himself a can of pure 
 white paint. 
 
CM 
 
 CMPTE! 
 
 (ClffiM 
 
 rnswinr 
 
 lufi 
 
 IT was eleven o clock at night. Mrs. Betty had 
 retired, while her husband was still struggling 
 to finish a sermon on the importance of foreign 
 missions. Ordinarily, the work would have been con 
 genial and easy for him, because he was an enthusiast 
 in the matter of missionary work: but now for some 
 reason his thoughts were confused; his enthusiasm 
 was lacking, and his pen dragged. He tried hard to 
 pull himself together, but over and over again the 
 question kept repeating itself in his tired brain : Why 
 
 238 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 239 
 
 should the Church support foreign missions, while 
 she lets her hard working clergy at home suffer and 
 half starve in their old age, and even fails to give 
 them decent support while they are working in their 
 prime ? Why should a doctor reach his highest pro 
 fessional value at seventy, and a parson be past the 
 "dead-line" at forty-five? Here he was, subject to 
 the caprice and ill-will of a sour and miserly Senior 
 Warden, and a cowed and at least partially "bossed" 
 vestry and he, the rector, with no practical power 
 of appeal for the enforcement of his legal contract. 
 It was only thanks to Jonathan Jackson, the Junior 
 Warden, that any revenue at all reached him; for 
 Bascom had used every grain of influence he pos 
 sessed to reduce or stop Maxwell s salary. Mrs. Betty, 
 plucky and cheery though she was, already showed 
 the results of the weary struggle : it was not the work 
 that took the color from her cheeks and the fresh 
 ness from her face, but the worry incidental to causes 
 which, in any other calling in life but his, would be 
 removable. 
 
 Already he had parted with a considerable number 
 of his books to eke out, and meet the many calls upon 
 him urgent and insistent calls. It became abun 
 dantly clear, as his mind strayed from the manuscript 
 before him and turned to their immediate situation, 
 
240 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 that he was already forced to choose between two 
 alternatives : either he must give up, and own himself 
 and all the better influences in the place beaten by 
 Bascom and his satellites; or he must find some means 
 of augmenting his means of living, without allowing 
 his time and energy to be monopolized to the neglect 
 of essential parish and church duties. 
 
 As he thought on these things, somehow his en 
 thusiasm for foreign missions ebbed away, and left 
 him desperately tired and worried. He made several 
 abortive attempts to put some fire into his missionary 
 plea, but it was useless; and he was about to give 
 up when he heard Mrs. Betty s gentle voice inquiring 
 from the next room : 
 
 "May I come in ? Haven t you finished that wretch 
 ed old missionary sermon yet?" 
 
 "No, dear; but why aren t you asleep?" 
 
 "I have been anxious about you. You are worn 
 out and you need your rest. Now just let the heathen 
 rage, and go to bed." 
 
 Maxwell made no reply, but picked at his manu 
 script aimlessly with his pen. Betty looked into his 
 face, and then the whole stress of the situation 
 pierced her; and sitting down by his side she dropped 
 her head on his shoulder and with one arm around 
 his neck stroked his cheek with her fingers. For a few 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 241 
 
 moments neither of them spoke; and then Maxwell 
 said quietly: 
 
 "Betty, love, I am going to work." 
 
 "But Donny, you are one of the hardest working 
 men in this town. What do you mean?" 
 
 "Oh, I mean that I am going to find secular work, 
 the work of a day laborer, if necessary. Matters 
 have come to a crisis, and I simply cannot stand this 
 sort of thing any longer. If I were alone I might 
 get along; but I have you, sweetheart, and " 
 
 Maxwell stopped suddenly, and the brave little wo 
 man at his side said: 
 
 "Yes, I know all about it, Donald, and I think you 
 are fully justified in doing anything you think best." 
 
 "And you wouldn t feel ashamed of me if I han 
 dled a shovel or dug in the street?" 
 
 "I d be the proudest woman in the town, Donny; 
 you are just your fine dear self, whatever you do ; and 
 if you have the courage to put your pride in your 
 pocket and work in overalls, that would make you all 
 the finer to me. Manual work would relieve the ten 
 sion of your nerves. You seem to be in fairly good 
 physical condition. Don t you worry one bit about 
 me. I am going to wash some lace curtains for Mrs. 
 Roscoe- Jones, and that will keep me out of mischief. 
 Now, if you will allow me, I am going to tear up 
 
242 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 that sermon on foreign missions, and start a little 
 home mission of my own by sending you to bed." 
 
 The second morning after this ruthless destruction 
 of Maxwell s eloquent plea for the mission at Banko- 
 lulu, Danny Dolan drove up to the tent-rectory at 
 half-past six, and Maxwell emerged and jumped up 
 by Danny s side, dressed in a rather soiled suit of 
 overalls: Danny was a teamster, a good looking 
 youth, and a devoted friend of Maxwell s since the 
 parson had taken care of him and his family through 
 an attack of malignant diphtheria. But while Danny 
 was a most loyal friend, he was not of the emotional 
 type, and so, when Maxwell had seated himself com 
 fortably and had lighted his briar pipe, Danny started 
 down the road at a vigorous pace, grinning broadly 
 at Maxwell s attire as he remarked: 
 
 "So you re really goin to work like the rest of us, 
 I reckon." 
 
 "Right you are, Danny four days a week, any 
 how. Don t I look like the real thing?" 
 
 "Sure you do; only you better not shave every day, 
 and you ll have to get your hands dirty before you 
 can fool anybody, and maybe your face ll give you 
 away even then. Be you comfortable in them clothes?" 
 
 "Sure thing; I m never so contented as I am in 
 working clothes." 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 243 
 
 "That s all right. You re the stuff. But how 
 about the proper old maids in the parish who ogle 
 and dance around you; they wont cotton to your 
 clothes a little bit. They ll think you re degradin of 
 yourself and disgracin of the parish. Here you be 
 ridin on a stone wagon, and you don t look a bit 
 better than me, if I do say it." 
 
 "I m afraid they ll have to survive the shock some 
 how or other; a man has to dress according to his 
 work." 
 
 "Hm ! Now there s that there Mrs. Roscoe- Jones 
 and Miss Bascom; I ll bet if they saw you in that rig 
 they d throw a fit." 
 
 "Oh no; it isn t as bad as that, Danny." 
 
 "They d think you d been disgraced for life, to be 
 come a laborin man, you bet." 
 
 "A what?" 
 
 "A laborin man." 
 
 "Then you think that a parson doesn t labor?" 
 
 "Well, I always thought that bein a parson was a 
 dead easy job, and a nice clean job too." 
 
 "Danny," Maxwell inquired after a momentary 
 silence, "don t you suppose that a man labors with his 
 brain as well as with his muscles? And sometimes a 
 parson labors with his heart, and that is the hardest 
 kind of work a man ever does. The man who is most 
 
244 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 of a laboring man is the man who labors with every 
 power and faculty he possesses." 
 
 "Well, now, I guess that may be right, if you look 
 at it that way." 
 
 "Yes; you speak of a laboring man, and you mean 
 a man who uses his muscles and lets his brain and his 
 feelings die of starvation. To try to help some one 
 you re fond of, who is going to the bad, is the most 
 nerve-racking and exhausting work which any man 
 can possibly do." 
 
 "Hm ! you always was a dum queer parson, more 
 like the rest of us, somehow. And you don t hold 
 that you re disgracin your profession ridin with me, 
 and shovelin gravel?" 
 
 "I don t seem to be worrying much about it, do I?" 
 
 "No," he agreed and added, "and I m dum sure 
 I would like a day off now and then from preachin 
 and callin on old maids, if I was you. But there s 
 times I might be willin for to let you take my work 
 for yours." 
 
 "Now see here, if you ll do my work for a few 
 days, I ll do yours." 
 
 "Well, what d I have to do? I aint makin any 
 contract without specifications." 
 
 "Well, suppose we say you do my work Saturday 
 and Sunday. That means you finish up two sermons, 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 245 
 
 which must be original and interesting when you are 
 preaching to the same set of people about a hundred 
 and fifty times a year. Then you must go and see a 
 woman who is always complaining, and listen to her 
 woes for three-quarters of an hour. Then you must 
 go and see what you can do for Tom Bradsaw, who 
 is dying of tuberculosis. Then you must conduct a 
 choir rehearsal not always the highest gratification 
 of a musical ear. Sunday, you must conduct four ser 
 vices and try to rouse a handful of people, who stare 
 at you from the back pews, to some higher ideals of 
 life and common decency, Then " 
 
 "Oh, heavens, man! Sure, an that s enough; I 
 stick to the stone wagon every time." 
 
 "You d be a fool if you didn t," replied Maxwell 
 straightly. "Then again you get your pay promptly 
 every Saturday night. I never know when I am going 
 to get mine." 
 
 "You don t? Begad, and I wouldn t work for any 
 body if I wasn t paid prompt. I d sue the Bishop or 
 the Pope, or somebody." 
 
 "Parsons don t sue: it s considered improper." 
 
 "Well, well," muttered the astonished Danny. 
 "Be you sure you can shovel stone then?" he 
 asked. 
 
 Maxwell unbuttoned his wristband, rolled up his 
 
246 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 sleeve. "If I can t, I ll know the reason why," he 
 remarked tersely. 
 
 "That s the stuff," laughed Danny, looking at Max 
 well s muscle. "I guess I don t want to meet you out 
 walkin after dark without a gun. But say, why don t 
 you swat the Bishop one, and get your pay?" 
 
 "The Bishop isn t responsible." 
 
 "Well, I ll bet I know who is, dang him; and I d 
 like to swat him one for you, the miserable old bag- 
 of-bones." 
 
 "Never you mind, Danny; I can take care of my 
 self." 
 
 "Sure you can, and I guess you re a laborin man 
 all right, even if you don t belong to the Union. Why 
 don t you get up a parson s Union and go on strike ? 
 By Jove ! I would. Let your parish go to " 
 
 "Danny, don t you think it looks like rain?" 
 
 "No, neither do you; but here we are at the stone 
 pile. My! but how the fellers will grin when they 
 see a tenderfoot like you, and a parson at that, 
 shovelin stone. But they wont think any the less of 
 you for it, mind you," he reassured his companion. 
 
 Maxwell knew most of the men, and greeted them 
 by name, and when he rolled up his sleeves and began 
 work, they quickly saw that he was "no slouch," and 
 that he did not "soldier," or shirk, as many of them 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 247 
 
 did though sometimes they were inclined to rest on 
 their shovels and chaff him good-naturedly, and ask 
 him If he had his Union card with Eim. 
 
 Shoveling stone is no picnic, as Danny and his fel 
 lows would have put it. It is not only the hard, ob 
 structed thrust, thrust of the shovel into the heap of 
 broken stone, and the constant lift and swing of each 
 shovelful into the wagon; it is the slow monotony of 
 repetition of unvarying motion that becomes most irk 
 some to the tyro, and wears down the nervous system 
 of the old hand till his whole being is leveled to the 
 insensibility of a soulless machine. 
 
 But, though new to the process itself, Maxwell was 
 not ignorant of its effects ; and soon he found himself 
 distracting his attention from the strain of the mus 
 cular tension by fitting the action to the rhythm of 
 some old sailor s chanteys he had learned at college. 
 The effect amused the men ; and then as some of them 
 caught the beat, and others joined in, soon the whole 
 gang was ringing the changes on the simple airs, and 
 found it a rousing and cheerful diversion from the 
 monotony of labor. 
 
 If a pause came, soon one of them would call out : 
 "Come on, Parson; strike up the hymn." 
 
 One by one the wagons were loaded, and driven to 
 the road. After they had filled the last wagon, Danny 
 
248 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 put on his coat, and he and Maxwell mounted and 
 drove out of the yard. 
 
 "Where are we going with this?" Maxwell in 
 quired. 
 
 "Down on the state road, first turn to the left." 
 
 "Why, that must be near Willow Bluff, Mr. Bas- 
 com s place, isn t it?" 
 
 "Right opposite. Bascom, he come out yesterday, 
 and said he wouldn t stand for that steam roller snort- 
 in back and forth in front of his house. But Jim 
 Ferris told him he had his orders from Williamson, 
 and he wasn t goin to be held up by nobody until 
 Williamson told him to stop. Jim isn t any kind of 
 fool." 
 
 When they arrived in front of Willow Bluff, they 
 stopped, dismounted, and dumped the crushed stone, 
 and then returned to the stone yard. At noon they 
 camped out on the curb in front of Willow Bluff. 
 After Maxwell had done full justice to the contents 
 of his dinner pail, he stretched himself full length on 
 the grass for a few moments, chatting with his mates 
 in friendly fashion. Then he went over to the roller 
 and assisted the engineer in "oiling up." Being a 
 novice at the business, he managed to get his hands 
 black with oil, and smeared a streak across one cheek, 
 which, while it helped to obscure his identity, did not 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 249 
 
 add to his facial beauty. He was blissfully uncon 
 scious of this. About three o clock Bascom returned 
 from his office, just as Maxwell was dismounting 
 from the wagon after bringing a load. At first Bas 
 com did not recognize the rector, but a second glance 
 brought the awful truth home to his subliminal self, 
 and he stopped and stared at Maxwell, stricken dumb. 
 Maxwell politely touched his hat, and smilingly re 
 marked that it was a fine day. Bascom made no re 
 ply at first. 
 
 "Can it be possible that this is you, Mr. Maxwell?" 
 he almost whispered, at last. 
 
 "It is, to the best of my knowledge and be 
 lief." 
 
 "What in the name of heaven are you working with 
 these men for, if I may ask?" 
 
 "To earn sufficient money to pay my grocer s bill." 
 
 Bascom colored hotly, and sputtered : 
 
 "I consider it a shame and a disgrace to the parish 
 to have our rector in filthy clothes, drawing stone 
 with a lot of ruffians." 
 
 Maxwell colored as hotly, and replied : 
 
 "They are not ruffians, sir; they are honest men, 
 supporting their families in a perfectly legitimate way, 
 giving their labor and" significantly "receiving 
 their pay for it." 
 
250 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "And you, sir, are engaged to work for the parish, 
 as a minister of God." 
 
 "Unfortunately, I am not being paid by the parish; 
 that is why I am working here. Neither my wife nor 
 myself is going to starve." 
 
 "You haven t any pride, sir!" Bascom fumed, his 
 temper out of control. "We have had many incom 
 petent rectors, but this really surpasses anything. We 
 have never had anyone like you." 
 
 Maxwell paused again in his work, and, leaning on 
 his shovel, looked Bascom in the eye: 
 
 "By which you mean that you have never had any 
 one who was independent enough to grip the situa 
 tion in both hands and do exactly what he thought 
 best, independent of your dictation." 
 
 "I will not converse with you any more. You are 
 insulting." 
 
 "As the corporation is paying me for my time, I 
 prefer work to conversation." 
 
 Bascom strode along the road towards his home. 
 Danny Dolan, who had been a shameless auditor of 
 this conversation, from the other side of the wagon, 
 was beside himself with delight: 
 
 "Holy Moses! but didn t you give it to the old 
 man. And here be all your adorers from town after 
 comin to tea at the house, and you lookin like the 
 
MUSCULAR CHRISTIANITY 251 
 
 stoker of an engine with black grease half an incK 
 thick on your cheek." 
 
 Maxwell pulled out his handkerchief, and made 
 an abortive effort to get his face clean. 
 
 "How is it now, Danny?" 
 
 "Oh, it aint nearly as thick in any one place; it s 
 mostly all over your face now." Then Danny laughed 
 irreverently again. "Sure, an you certainly do look 
 like the real thing now." 
 
 Maxwell was raking gravel when the guests for 
 the afternoon tea were passing; and though he did 
 not look up, he fully realized that they had recog 
 nized him, from the buzz of talk and the turning of 
 heads. 
 
 Danny returned from his safer distance when he 
 saw the coast was clear. Maxwell had a shrewd sus 
 picion that the boy had taken himself off believing it 
 might embarrass Maxwell less if any of the ladies 
 should speak to him. 
 
 "Did none of em know you, then?" he asked. 
 
 "Not one of them spoke; I guess my disguise is 
 pretty complete." 
 
 "Thank hiven!" Danny exclaimed. "Then the 
 crisis is passed for to-day at least, and your reputa 
 tion is saved; but if you don t get out of this they ll 
 be comin out again, and then nobody knows what ll 
 
252 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 happen. Better smear some more oil over the other 
 cheek to cover the last bit of dacency left in you." 
 
 At the end of the day s work, Maxwell threw his 
 shovel into Dolan s wagon and jumped up on the seat 
 with him and drove back to town. 
 
 "Well," said Maxwell s friend, delightedly, "you 
 done a mighty good day s work for a tenderfoot; but 
 you done more with that old Bascom than in all the 
 rest of the day put together. My ! but I thought I d 
 split my sides to see you puttin him where he be 
 longed, and you lookin like a coal heaver. But it s 
 a howlin shame you didn t speak to them women, 
 goin all rigged up for the party. That would ve been 
 the finishin touch." 
 
 He swayed about on his seat, laughing heartily, 
 until they drew up before the rectory, where Mrs. 
 Betty was waiting to greet Maxwell. 
 
 Danny touched his cap shyly but Betty came down 
 to the wagon and gave him a cheery greeting. 
 
 "Well you ve brought him back alive, Mr. Do- 
 Ian, anyway." 
 
 "Yes ma am ! And I reckon he ll keep you busy 
 puttin the food to him, if he eats like he works: he s 
 a glutton for work, is Mr. Maxwell." 
 
llflt 
 
 III 
 
 A FEW nights later, when Maxwell returned 
 from his work he found Mrs. Burke sitting 
 on the front platform of the tent with Mrs. 
 Betty; and having washed, and changed his clothes, 
 he persuaded their visitor to stay to supper. After 
 supper was over they sat out doors, chatting of Max 
 well s amusing experiences. 
 
 They had not been sitting long when their atten 
 tion was attracted by a noise up the street, and going 
 to the fence they saw a horse, over which the driver 
 
 253 
 
254 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 evidently had lost control, galloping towards them, 
 with a buggy which was swerving from side to side 
 under the momentum of its terrific speed. 
 
 Maxwell rushed into the middle of the street to 
 see if he could be of any assistance in stopping the 
 horse and preventing a catastrophe; but before he 
 could get near enough to be of any service the animal 
 suddenly shied, the buggy gave a final lurch, over 
 turned, and was thrown violently against a telegraph 
 pole. The horse, freed, dashed on, dragging the 
 shafts and part of the harness. The occupant of the 
 buggy had been thrown out against the telegraph pole 
 with considerable force, knocked senseless, and lay 
 in the gutter, stained with blood and dirt. Mrs. 
 Burke and Betty lifted the body of the buggy, while 
 Maxwell pulled out from under it the senseless form 
 of a man; and when they had turned him over and 
 wiped the blood from his face, they discovered, to 
 their utter amazement, that the victim was no less a 
 personage than the Senior Warden, Sylvester Bascom. 
 
 Of course there was nothing to be done but to carry 
 him as best they could into the tent, and lay him on 
 a lounge. Maxwell ran hastily for a doctor, while 
 Hepsey and Mrs. Betty applied restoratives, washed 
 the face of the injured man, and bound up as best 
 they could what appeared to be a serious wound on 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 255 
 
 one wrist, and another on the side of his head. The 
 doctor responded promptly, and after a thorough ex 
 amination announced that Bascom was seriously hurt, 
 and that at present it would be dangerous to remove 
 him. So Mrs. Betty and her guest removed Max 
 well s personal belongings, and improvised a bed in 
 the front room of the tent, into which Bascom was 
 lifted with the greatest care. Having done what he 
 could, the doctor departed, promising to return soon. 
 In about twenty minutes there were signs of return 
 ing consciousness, and for some time Bascom looked 
 about him in a dazed way, and groaned with pain. 
 Mrs. Burke decided at once to remain all night with 
 Mrs. Betty, and assist in caring for the warden until 
 Virginia could arrive and assume charge of the case. 
 After about an hour, Bascom seemed to be fully con 
 scious as he gazed from one face to another, and 
 looked wonderingly at the canvas tent in which he 
 found himself. Mrs. Burke bent over him and in 
 quired : 
 
 "Are you in much pain, Mr. Bascom?" 
 For a moment or two the Senior Warden made no 
 answer; then in a hoarse whisper he inquired: 
 "Where am I? What has happened?" 
 "Well, you see, something frightened your horse, 
 and your buggy was overturned, and you were thrown 
 
256 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 against a telegraph pole and injured more or less. 
 We picked you up and brought you in here, cleaned 
 you up, and tried to make you as comfortable as pos 
 sible. The doctor has been here and looked you over, 
 and will return in a few minutes." 
 
 "Am I seriously injured?" 
 
 "You have two bad wounds, and have evidently 
 lost a good deal of blood; but don t worry. Mrs. 
 Betty and I and the rest of us will take good care of 
 you and do all we can until Virginia is able to take 
 you home again." 
 
 "Where am I?" 
 
 A curious expression of mild triumph and amuse 
 ment played across Mrs. Burke s face as she replied: 
 
 "You are in Dnoald Maxwell s tent. This was the 
 nearest place where we could bring you at the time 
 of the accident." 
 
 For a moment a vestige of color appeared in Bas- 
 com s face, and he whispered hoarsely: 
 
 "Why didn t you take me home?" 
 
 "Well, we were afraid to move you until the doc 
 tor had examined you thoroughly." 
 
 The patient closed his eyes wearily. 
 
 It was evident that he was growing weaker, and 
 just as the doctor returned, he again lapsed into un 
 consciousness. The doctor felt of Bascom s pulse, 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 257 
 
 and sent Maxwell hastily for Doctor Field for con 
 sultation. For fifteen minutes the doctors were alone 
 in Bascom s room, and then Doctor Field called Max 
 well in and quietly informed him that the warden had 
 lost so much blood from the wound in the wrist that 
 there was danger of immediate collapse unless they 
 resorted to extreme measures, and bled some one to 
 supply the patient. To this Maxwell instantly re 
 plied: 
 
 "I am strong and well. There is no reason why 
 you should hesitate for a moment. Send for your 
 instruments at once; but my wife must know nothing 
 of it until it is all over with. Tell Mrs. Burke to 
 take her over to Thunder Cliff for an hour or two, 
 on the pretext of getting some bedding. Yes, I insist 
 on having my own way, and as you say, there is no 
 time to be lost." 
 
 Doctor Field took Mrs. Burke aside, and the wom 
 en immediately departed for Thunder Cliff. The 
 necessary instruments were brought, and then the 
 three men entered the sick room. 
 
 In about twenty minutes Maxwell came out of the 
 invalid s room, assisted by Doctor Field, and 
 stretched himself on the bed. 
 
 Bascom s color began slowly to return; his pulse 
 quickened, and Dr. Field remarked to his colleague : 
 
258 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Well, I think the old chap is going to pull through 
 after all; but it was a mighty close squeak." 
 
 Meanwhile, the messenger who had been sent out 
 to Willow Bluff to apprise Virginia of her father s 
 accident returned with the information that Virginia 
 had left the day before, to stay with friends, and 
 could not possibly get home till next day. It was de 
 cided to telegraph for her; and in the meantime the 
 doctors advised that Mr. Bascom be left quietly in 
 his bed at the new "rectory," and be moved home 
 next day, after having recovered some of his lost 
 strength. Mrs. Betty and Mrs. Burke took turns in 
 watching by the Invalid that night, and it might have 
 been observed that his eyes remained closed, even 
 when he did not sleep, while Mrs. Burke was in at 
 tendance, but that he watched Mrs. Betty with keen 
 curiosity and wonder, from between half-closed lids, 
 as she sat at the foot of his bed sewing, or moved 
 about noiselessly preparing the nourishment pre 
 scribed for him by the doctors, and which the old 
 gentleman took from her with unusual gentleness and 
 patience. 
 
 It was Mrs. Burke who, having learned of the time 
 when Virginia was expected to return home, drove 
 out to Willow Bluff with Mr. Bascom, and assisted 
 in making him comfortable there before his daugh- 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 259 
 
 ter s arrival. He volunteered no word on their way 
 thither, but lay back among his cushions and pillows 
 with closed eyes, pale and exhausted though the doc 
 tors assured the Maxwells that there was no cause 
 for anxiety on the score of his removal, when they 
 urged that he be left in their care until he had re 
 gained more strength. 
 
 It was a white and scared Virginia who listened to 
 Hepsey s account of all that had happened an ac 
 count which neither over-stated the Bascoms debt to 
 the Maxwells nor spared Virginia s guilty conscience. 
 
 When she found that her father had been the guest 
 of the Maxwells and that they had played the part 
 of good Samaritans to him in the tent in which the 
 Senior Warden had obliged them to take refuge, she 
 was thoroughly mortified, and there was a struggle 
 between false pride and proper gratitude. 
 
 "It is very awkward, is it not, Mrs. Burke?" she 
 said. "I ought certainly to call on Mrs. Maxwell and 
 thank her but under the circumstances " 
 
 "What circumstances?" asked Hepsey. 
 
 "Well, you know, it will be very embarrassing for 
 me to go to Mr. Maxwell s tent after what has hap 
 pened between him and my father." 
 
 "I m not sure that I catch on, Virginia. Which 
 happenin do you mean? Your father s cold-blooded 
 
2 6o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 ejection of the Maxwells from their house, or Mr. 
 Maxwell s warm-blooded sacrifice to save your fath 
 er s life? Perhaps it is a bit embarrassing, as you 
 call it, to thank a man for givin his blood to save 
 your father." 
 
 "It is a more personal matter than that," replied 
 Virginia, gazing dramatically out of the window. 
 "You don t quite seem to appreciate the delicacy of 
 the situation, Mrs. Burke." 
 
 "No, I m blessed if I do. But then you know I m 
 very stupid about some things, Virginia. Fact is, 
 I m just stupid enough to imagine no, I mean think 
 that it would be the most natural thing in the world 
 to go straight to the Maxwells and thank em for all 
 they ve done for your father in takin him in and 
 givin him the kind of care that money can t buy. 
 There s special reasons that I needn t mention why 
 you should say thank you, and say it right." 
 
 Virginia examined the toe of her boot for some 
 time in silence and then began: 
 
 "But you don t understand the situation, Mrs. 
 Burke." 
 
 "Virginia, if you don t stop that kind of thing, I 
 shall certainly t?nd for the police. Are you lookin 
 for a situation? If you have got anything to say, 
 say it." 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 261 
 
 "Well, to be quite frank with you, Mrs. Burke, 
 I must confess that at one time Mr. Maxwell and I 
 were supposed to be very good friends." 
 
 "Naturally. You ought to be good friends with 
 your rector. I don t sec anything tragic about 
 that." 
 
 "But we were something more than friends." 
 
 "Who told you? ,You can t believe all you hear 
 in a town like this. Maybe some one was foolin 
 you." 
 
 "I ought to know what I am talking about. He 
 accepted our hospitality at Willow Bluff, and was so 
 attentive that people began to make remarks." 
 
 "Well, people have been makin remarks ever since 
 Eve told Adam to put his apron on for dinner. Any 
 fool can make remarks, and the biggest fool is the 
 one who cares. Are you sure that you didn t make 
 any remarks yourself, Virginia?" 
 
 Virginia instantly bridled, and looked the picture 
 of injured innocence. 
 
 "Certainly not !" she retorted. "Do you think that 
 I would talk about such a delicate matter before 
 others?" 
 
 "Oh no; I suppose not. But you could look wise 
 and foolish at the same time when Maxwell s name 
 was mentioned, with a coy and kittenish air which 
 
262 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 would suggest more than ten volumes of Mary Jane 
 Holmes." 
 
 "You are not very sympathetic, Mrs. Burke, when 
 I am in deep trouble. I want your help, not ridicule 
 ,and abuse." 
 
 "Well, I am sorry for you, Virginia, in more ways 
 than one. But really I d like to know what reason 
 you have to think that Donald Maxwell was ever in 
 love with you; I suppose that s what you mean." 
 
 Virginia blushed deeply, as became a gentle maiden 
 of her tender years, and replied: 
 
 "Oh, it is not a question of things which one can 
 easily define. Love is vocal without words, you 
 know." 
 
 "Hm ! You don t mean that he made love to you 
 and proposed to you through a phonograph? You 
 know I had some sort of idea that love that was all 
 wool, and a yard wide, and meant business, usually 
 got vocal at times." 
 
 "But Mr. Maxwell and I were thrown together in 
 such an intimate way in parish work, you know." 
 
 "Which did the throwing?" 
 
 "You don t for one moment suppose that I would 
 intrude myself, or press myself on his attention, do 
 you?" 
 
 "Oh my gracious, no ! He is not the kind of a man 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 263 
 
 to be easily Impressed. He may have seen a girl or 
 two before he met you; of course I mean just inci 
 dentally, as it were. Now, Virginia Bascom, allow 
 me to ask you one or two plain questions. Did he 
 ever ask you to marry him?" 
 
 "No, not in so many words." 
 
 "Did he ever give you any plain Indication tnat he 
 wanted to marry you ? Did he ever play the mandolin 
 under your window at midnight? Did he ever steal 
 one of your gloves, or beg for a rose out of your 
 bouquet, or turn the gas out when he called?" 
 
 "No, but one night he sat on the sofa with me and 
 told me that I was a great assistance to him in his 
 parish work, and that he felt greatly indebted to 
 me." 
 
 "Hm ! That s certainly rather pronounced, isn t 
 it ? Did you call your father, or rise hastily and leave 
 the room, or what did you do ?" 
 
 "Well, of course it was not a proposal, but the 
 way he did it was very suggestive, and calculated to 
 give a wrong impression, especially as he had his arm 
 on the back of the sofa behind me." 
 
 "Maybe he was makin love to the sofa. Didn t 
 you know that Donald Maxwell was engaged to be 
 married before he ever set foot in Durford?" 
 
 "Good gracious, no 1 What are you talking about?" 
 
264 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "Well, he certainly was, for keeps." 
 "Then he had no business to pose as a free man, 
 if he were engaged. It is dreadful to have to lose 
 
 faith in one s rector. It is next to losing faith in 
 ; n " 
 
 111 
 
 "The milk-man. Yes, I quite agree with you. But 
 you see I don t recall that Donald Maxwell did any 
 posing. He simply kept quiet about his own affairs 
 though I do think that it would have been better 
 to let people know that he was engaged, from the 
 start. However, he may have concluded his private 
 affairs were his own business. I know that s very 
 stupid; but some people will persist in doin it, in spite 
 of all you can say to em. Perhaps it never occurred 
 to him that he would be expected to marry anyone 
 living in a little sawed-off settlement like this." 
 
 "There s no use in abusing your native village; 
 and" her voice quavered on the verge of tears 
 "I think you are very unsympathetic." She buried 
 her nose in her handkerchief. 
 
 Mrs. Burke gazed sternly at Virginia for a full 
 minute and then inquired: 
 
 "Well, do you want to know why? You started 
 with just foolishness, but you ve ended up with mean 
 ness, Virginia Bascom. You ve taken your revenge 
 on people who ve done you nothin but kindness. I 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 265 
 
 know pretty well who it was that suggested to your 
 father that the mortgage on the rectory should be 
 foreclosed, and the Maxwells turned out of house and 
 home. He s always been close-fisted, but I ve never 
 known him to be dead ugly and vindictive before. 
 
 "Yes. You were behind all this wretched busi 
 ness and you re sorry for it, and wish you could un 
 do the unkindness you ve done. Now I am goin to 
 talk business better than talkin sympathy, because 
 it ll make you feel better when you ve done what I 
 tell you. You go and call on Mrs. Betty immediately, 
 and tell her that you are very grateful to her husband 
 for saving your father s life, and that money couldn t 
 possibly pay for the things she and Mr. Maxwell did 
 for him, and that you re everlastingly indebted to em 
 both." 
 
 "But but," wailed the repentant Virginia, "what 
 can I say about the tent? Pa wont go back on that 
 not if his life had been saved twice over." 
 
 "Never you mind about that. You do your part 
 of the business, and leave the rest to the other feller. 
 You can bet your bottom dollar it wont be the Max 
 wells that ll raise the question of who turned em out 
 of the rectory." 
 
 "I ll go right away, before I weaken. Ob," she 
 cried, as Hepsey put a strengthening arm about her, 
 
266 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "I ve been wrong I know I have. However shall I 
 make it right again?" 
 
 When Virginia arrived at the tent and pulled the 
 bell-cord, Mrs. Betty pushed apart the curtains and 
 greeted her visitor with the utmost cordiality. 
 
 "Oh, Miss Bascom! I am 50 glad to see you. 
 Come right in. Donald is out just now; but he will 
 return presently, and I m sure will be delighted to 
 see an old friend. This way, please. Is your father 
 improving satisfactorily?" 
 
 This greeting was so utterly different from what 
 she had expected, that for the moment she was silent; 
 but when they were seated she began : 
 
 "Mrs. Maxwell, I don t know how to express my 
 gratitude to you for all you have done for my father. 
 I I " 
 
 "Then I wouldn t try, Miss Bascom. Don t give 
 the matter a single thought. We were glad to do 
 what we could for your father, and we made him as 
 comfortable as we could." 
 
 Virginia s heart was quite atrophied, and so with 
 choking voice she began : 
 
 "And I m afraid that I have not been very civil to 
 you in fact, I am sure that I owe you an apol- 
 
 ogy " 
 
 "No, never mind. It s all right now. Suppose you 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 267 
 
 take off your things and stay to supper with us. Then 
 we can have a real good visit, and you will see how 
 well we dwellers in tents can live I" 
 
 Virginia winced; but for some reason which she 
 could not understand she found it quite impossible 
 to decline the invitation. 
 
 "I m sure you are very kind, Mrs. Maxwell; but 
 I m afraid I shall inconvenience you." 
 
 "Oh no, not a bit. Now will you be a real good 
 Samaritan and help me a little, as I have no maid? 
 You might set the table if you don t mind, and when 
 Donald comes we shall be ready for him. This is 
 really quite jolly," she added, bustling about, showing 
 Virginia where to find things. 
 
 "I am afraid," Virginia began with something like 
 a sob in her voice, "that you are heaping coals of fire 
 on my head." 
 
 "Oh no; not when coal is over seven dollars a ton. 
 We couldn t afford such extravagant hospitality as 
 that. You might arrange those carnations in the vase 
 iF you will, while I attend to the cooking. You will 
 find the china, and the silver, in that chest. I wont 
 apologize for the primitive character of our entertain 
 ment because you see when we came down here we 
 stored most of our things in Mrs. Burke s barn. It 
 is awfully nice to have somebody with me; I am so 
 
268 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 much alone; you came just in time to save me from 
 the blues." 
 
 When Mrs. Betty disappeared in the "kitchen," and 
 Virginia began the task assigned her, a very queer 
 and not altogether pleasant sensation filled her heart. 
 Was it remorse, or penitence, or self-reproach, or 
 indigestion? She could not be absolutely sure about 
 it, but concluded that perhaps it was a combination 
 of all four. When Donald returned, and discovered 
 Virginia trying to decide whether they would need 
 two spoons or three at each plate, for an instant he 
 was too astonished to speak; but quickly regaining his 
 easy manner, he welcomed her no less cordially than 
 Mrs. Betty had done, remarking: 
 
 "Well, this is a treat; and so you are going to have 
 supper with us? That will be a great pleasure." 
 
 Virginia almost collapsed in momentary embarrass 
 ment, and could think of nothing better than to ask: 
 
 "I am not sure what Mrs. Maxwell is going to 
 have for supper, and I really don t know whether to 
 place two spoons or three. What would you advise, 
 Mr. Maxwell?" 
 
 Maxwell scowled seriously, rubbed his chin and re 
 plied : 
 
 "Well, you know, I really can t say; but perhaps 
 it would be on the safe side to have three spoons in 
 
UNINVITED GUESTS 269 
 
 case any emergency might arise, like a custard, or 
 jelly and whipped cream, or something else which 
 Betty likes to make as a surprise. Yes, on the whole, 
 I think that three would be better than two." 
 
 When Virginia had placed the spoons, and Max 
 well had returned to assist her, she hesitated a mo 
 ment and looked at him with tears in her eyes and 
 began : 
 
 "Mr. Maxwell, there is something I must say to 
 you, an acknowledgment and an apology I must make. 
 I have been so horribly " 
 
 "Now see here, Miss Virginia," the rector replied, 
 "you just forget it. We are awfully glad to have you 
 here, and we are going to have a right jolly supper 
 together. Betty s muffins are simply fine, and her 
 creamed chicken is a dream. Besides, I want to con 
 sult you concerning the new wardrobe I am going to 
 have built in the vestry. You see there is the ques 
 tion of the drawers, and the shelves, and " 
 
 "Never mind the drawers and the shelves," Mrs. 
 Betty remarked as she entered with the creamed 
 chicken and the muffins. "You just sit down before 
 these things get cold, and you can talk business after 
 wards." 
 
 To her utter astonishment Virginia soon found her 
 self eating heartily, utterly at her ease in the cordial, 
 
2 yo HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 friendly atmosphere of tent-life, and when Maxwell 
 took her home later in the evening, she hadn t apolo 
 gized or wallowed in an agony of self-reproach. She 
 had only demanded the recipe for the muffins, and 
 had declared that she was coming again very soon iff 
 Mrs. Betty would only let her. 
 
 And last but not least the rector s polite atten 
 tion in acting as her escort home failed to work upon 
 her dramatic temperament with any more startling 
 effect than to produce a feeling that he was a very 
 good friend. 
 
 In fact, she wondered, as she conned over the 
 events of the evening, whether she had realized be 
 fore, all that the word Friendship signified. 
 
CMAFTJEIXHl 
 
 "I 
 
 i flTiiniiTniffiiiinniraii HIT IBHIM immagp j i c ~i 
 DON T rightly know what s got into Virginia 
 
 Bascom," remarked Jonathan, as he sat on 
 Hepsey s side porch one evening, making po 
 lite conversation as his new habit was. "She s buzzin 
 round Mrs. Betty like a bee round a flower thicker n 
 thieves they be, by gum." 
 
 "Yes," cogitated Hepsey, half to herself, and half 
 in response, "the lamb s lyin down all right, and it s 
 about time we d got the lion curled up by her and 
 purrin like a cat. But I don t see the signs of it, and 
 
 271 
 
272 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 I ll have to take rny knittin to-morrow and sit right 
 clown in his den and visit with him a little. If he 
 v/ont purr, I ve got what ll make him roar, good and 
 proper, or I ve missed my guess." 
 
 "Now Hepsey, you go easy with my church-part 
 ner, the Senior Warden. When his wife lived, he 
 was a decent sort of a feller, was Sylvester Bascom; 
 and I reckon she got him comin her way more with 
 molasses than with vinegar." 
 
 And though Hepsey snorted contempt for the ad 
 vice of a mere male, she found the thought top-side 
 of her mind as she started out next morning to pay 
 Bascom a momentous call. After all, Jonathan had 
 but echoed her own consistent philosophy of life. But 
 with her usual shrewdness she decided to go armed 
 with both kinds of ammunition. 
 
 Mrs. Burke puffed somewhat loudly as she paused 
 on the landing which led to the door of Bascom s 
 office. After wiping her forehead with her handker 
 chief she gave three loud knocks on the painted glass 
 of the door, which shook some of the loose putty onto 
 the floor. After knocking the third time some one 
 called out "Come in," and she opened the door, en 
 tered, and gazed calmly across the room. Bas 
 com was seated at his desk talking to a farm 
 er, and when he turned around and discovered 
 
HEPSEY S DIPLOMACY 273 
 
 who his visitor was, he ejaculated irreverently: 
 
 "Good Lord deliver us!" 
 
 "Oh, do excuse me!" Mrs. Burke replied. "I didn t 
 know that you were sayin the Litany. I ll just slip 
 into the next room and wait till you get through." 
 
 Whereupon she stepped into the next room, closed 
 the door, and made herself comfortable in a large 
 arm-chair. There was a long table in the middle of 
 the room, and the walls were covered with shelves 
 and yellow books of a most monotonous binding. The 
 air was musty and close. She quietly opened one of 
 the windows, and having resumed her seat, she pulled 
 a wash-rag from her leather bag and began knitting 
 calmly. 
 
 She waited for some time, occasionally glancing at 
 the long table, which was covered with what appeared 
 to be a hopeless confusion of letters, legal documents, 
 and books opened and turned face downward. Occa 
 sionally she sniffed in disgust at the general untidi 
 ness of the place. Evidently the appearance of the 
 table in front of her was getting on her nerves; and 
 so she put her knitting away as she muttered to her 
 self: 
 
 "I wonder Virginia don t come up here once in a 
 while and put things to rights. It s simply awful!" 
 Then she began sorting the papers and gathering 
 
274 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 them into little uniform piles by themselves. She 
 seemed to have no notion whatever of their possible 
 relation to each other, but arranged them according 
 to their size and color in nice little separate piles. 
 When there was nothing else left for her to do she 
 resumed her knitting and waited patiently for the de 
 parture of the farmer. The two men seemed to be 
 having a rather warm dispute over the interpretation 
 of some legal contract; and if Bascom was hot-tem 
 pered and emphatic in his language, bordering on the 
 profane, the client was stubborn and dull-witted and 
 hard to convince. Occasionally she overheard bits of 
 the controversy which were not intended for her ears. 
 Bascom insisted: 
 
 "But you re not such a dum fool as to think that a 
 contract legally made between two parties is not bind 
 ing, are you? You admit that I have fulfilled my 
 part, and now you must pay for the services rendered 
 or else I shall bring suit against you." 
 
 The reply to this was not audible, but the farmer 
 did not seem to be quite convinced. 
 
 After what seemed to her an interminable interval 
 the door banged, and she knew that Bascom was 
 alone. She did not wait for any invitation, but rising 
 quietly she went into the inner office and took the 
 chair vacated by the farmer. Bascom made a pre 
 
HEPSEY S DIPLOMACY 275 
 
 tense of writing, in silence, with his back towards her, 
 during which interval Hepsey waited patiently. Then, 
 looking up with the expression of a deaf-mute, he 
 asked colorlessly : 
 
 "Well, Mrs. Burke, what may I do for you?" 
 
 "You can do nothing for me but you can and 
 must do something for the Maxwells," she replied 
 firmly but quietly. 
 
 "Don t you think it would be better to let Max 
 well take care of his own affairs?" 
 
 "Yes, most certainly, if he were in a position to do 
 so. But you know that the clergy are a long-suffer- 
 in lot, more s the pity; they ll endure almost anythin 
 rather than complain. That s why you and others 
 take advantage of them." 
 
 "Ah, but an earnest minister of the Gospel does 
 not look for the loaves and fishes of his calling." 
 
 "I shouldn t think he would. I hate fish, myself; 
 but Maxwell has a perfect right to look for the hon 
 est fulfillment of a contract made between you and 
 him. Didn t I hear you tell that farmer that he was 
 a dum fool if he thought that a contract made be 
 tween two parties is not legally binding, and that if 
 you fulfilled your part he must pay for your services 
 or you would sue him? Do you suppose that a con 
 tract with a carpenter or a plumber or a mason is 
 
276 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 binding, while a contract with a clergyman is not? 
 What is the matter with you, anyway?" 
 
 Bascom made no reply, but turned his back towards 
 Hepsey and started to write. She resumed: 
 
 "Donald Maxwell s salary is goin to be paid him 
 in full within the next two weeks or 
 
 Mrs. Burke came to a sudden silence, and after a 
 moment or two Bascom turned around and inquired 
 sarcastically : 
 
 "Or what?" 
 
 Hepsey continued to knit in silence for a while, 
 her face working in her effort to gain control of her 
 self and speak calmly. 
 
 "Now see here, Sylvester Bascom : I didn t come 
 here to have a scene with you, and if I knit like I 
 was fussed, you must excuse me." 
 
 Her needles had been flashing lightning, and truth 
 to tell, Bascom, for all he dreaded Hepsey s sharp 
 tongue as nothing else in Durford, had been unable 
 to keep his eyes off those angry bits of sparkling steel. 
 Suddenly they stopped dead. The knitting fell into 
 Hepsey s lap, and she sat forward a pair of kindly, 
 moist eyes searching the depths of Bascom s, as he 
 looked up at her. Her voice dropped to a lower tone 
 as she continued: 
 
 "There s been just one person, and one person only, 
 
HEPSEY S DIPLOMACY 277 
 
 that s ever been able to keep the best of you on top 
 and she was my best friend, your wife. She kept 
 you human, and turned even the worst side of you to 
 some account. If you did scrape and grub, most 
 night and day, to make your pile, and was hard on 
 those that crossed your path while doin of it, it was 
 she that showed you there was pleasure in usin it 
 for others as well as for yourself, and while she lived 
 you did it. But since she s been gone," the old 
 man tried to keep his face firm and his glance steady, 
 but in vain he winced, "since she s been gone, the 
 human in you s dried up like a sun-baked apple. And 
 it s you, Sylvester Bascom, that s been made the most 
 miserable, spite of all the little carks you ve put on 
 many another." 
 
 His face hardened again, and Hepsey paused. 
 
 "What has all this to do with Mr. Maxwell, may 
 I ask?" 
 
 "I m comin to that," continued Hepsey, patiently. 
 "If Mary Bascom were alive to-day, would the rector 
 of Durford be livin in a tent instead of in the rectory 
 the house she thought she had given over, without 
 mortgage or anything else, to the church? And 
 would you be holdin back your subscription to the 
 church, and seein that others held back too ? I never 
 thought you d have done, when she was dead, what d 
 
278 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 have broken her heart if she d been livin . The 
 church was her one great interest in life, after her 
 husband and her daughter; and it was her good work 
 that brought the parish to make you Senior Warden, 
 After you d made money and moved to your new 
 house, just before she died, she gave the old house, 
 that was hers from her father, to the church, and you 
 were to make the legal transfer of it. Then she died 
 suddenly, and you delayed and delayed claiming the 
 house as yours, and at last sold it to us subject to the 
 mortgage." 
 
 The old man stirred uneasily in his chair. 
 
 "This is all quite beside the mark. What might 
 have been proper to do in my wife s life-time became 
 a different matter altogether after her death. I had 
 my daughter s welfare to think of; besides 
 
 "I m not talkin about your legal right. But you 
 know that if you d wanted to have it, you could have 
 got your interest on the mortgage quick enough. If 
 you hadn t held back on his salary, others wouldn t 
 have; or if they had, you could have got after em. 
 What s the use of tryin to mix each other up? You 
 couldn t keep Maxwell in your pocket, and because 
 He didn t come to you every day for orders you reck 
 oned to turn him out of the parish. You ve not one 
 thing against him, and you know it, Sylvester Bascom. 
 
HEPSEY S DIPLOMACY 279 
 
 He s shown you every kind of respect as his Senior 
 Warden, and more patience than you deserved. He 
 let himself be no, had himself bled, to save your 
 life. But instead of making him the best young friend 
 you could have had, and makin yourself of real use 
 to your town and your neighbors through him and his 
 work, you ve let the devil get into you; and when 
 your accident come, you d got to where you were run- 
 nin that fast down a steep place into the sea that I 
 could most hear the splash." 
 
 She cocked her head on one side, and smiled at him 
 whimsically, hoping for some response to her humor 
 ous picture. A faint ghost of a smile was it, or was 
 it not? flickered on the old man s lips; but he gave 
 no sign of grace. 
 
 Hepsey sighed, and paused for an instant. "Well 
 we can t sit here talkin till midnight, or I shall be 
 compromisin your reputation, I suppose. There ll 
 be a meeting of the parishioners called at the end of 
 this week, and the rector wont be present at it; so, 
 Warden, I suppose you ll preside. I hope you will. 
 I ve got to do my part and that is to see that the par 
 ish understands just how their rector s placed, right 
 now, both about his house and his salary. He s work- 
 in as a laborer to get enough for him and that little 
 wife of his to live on, and the town knows it but 
 
28o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 they don t all know that it s because the salary that s 
 properly his is bein held back on him, and by those 
 that pay their chauffeurs more than the rector gets, 
 by a good piece. I shall call on every one at that 
 meetin to pay up ; and I shall begin with the poorest, 
 and end up" she fixed Bascom s eye, significantly 
 "with the richest. And if it seems to be my duty to 
 do it, I may have somethin more to say when the sub 
 scription s closed but I don t believe no," she add 
 ed, opening her bag and rummaging about among its 
 contents till she hit upon a letter and brought it forth, 
 "no, I don t believe I ll have to say a thing. I ve 
 got a hunch, Sylvester Bascom, that it ll be you that ll 
 have the last word, after all." 
 
 The old man s glance was riveted upon the familiar 
 handwriting of the faded letter, and without a word 
 Hepsey started to read it, date and all, in a clear 
 voice : 
 
 WILLOW BLUFF, DURFORD. 
 
 September , 19 . 
 HEPSEY DEAR: 
 
 I suppose you will never forgive me for making the 
 move from the old house to Willow Bluff, as it s to 
 be called, while you were not home to help me. But 
 they got finished sooner than we thought for, and 
 
HEPSEY S DIPLOMACY 281 
 
 Sylvester was as eager as a child with a new toy to 
 get moved in. So here we are, and the first letter I 
 write from our new home is to you, who helped more 
 than anyone to make the old home happy for me and 
 mine bless them and bless you ! 
 
 Everything is out of the old house "The Rectory" 
 as I shall call it, now except such pieces of furniture 
 as we did not want to take away, and we thought 
 might be welcome to the parson (or parsons, I sup 
 pose) who may occupy it. Sister Susan thought it 
 slighting to Pa s generosity to give the house to the 
 church ; but I don t look at it like that. Anyway, it s 
 done now and I m very happy to think that the flock 
 can offer a proper home to its shepherd, as long as 
 the old place stands. 
 
 If you get back Thursday I shall just be ready for 
 you to help me with the shades and curtains, if you 
 care to. Your friend, 
 
 MARION ANDERSON BASCOM. 
 
 P. S. Ginty sends her love to Aunt Hepsey, and 
 says, "to come to Boston quick!" She s a little con 
 fused, someway, and can t get it out of her head that 
 we re not back home in Boston, since we left the old 
 place. I hope you are having a nice visit with Sally. 
 
 As Hepsey read, Sylvester Bascom turned, slowly, 
 
282 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 away from her, his head on his hand, gazing out of 
 the window. When she had finished reading, the let 
 ter was folded up and replaced in the bag along with 
 her knitting. Then, laying her hand with a gentle, 
 firm pressure on the old man s shoulder, Mrs. Burke 
 departed. 
 
CALK 
 A MEETING 
 
 FOR the next few days Hepsey s mind worked 
 in unfamiliar channels, for her nature was 
 that of a benevolent autocrat, and she had 
 found herself led by circumstances into a situation de 
 manding the prowess and elasticity of the diplomat. 
 To begin with, she must risk a gamble at the meet 
 ing: if the spiritual yeast did not rise in old Bascom, 
 as she hoped it would, and crown her strategy with 
 success, she would have to fall back on belligerent 
 tactics, and see if it were not possible to get his duty 
 
 283 
 
284 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 out of him by threatened force of public opinion : and 
 she knew that, with his obstinacy, it would be touch 
 and go on which side of the fence he would fall in 
 a situation of that kind dependent, in fact, upon the 
 half turn of a screw, more or less, for the result. 
 Furthermore, she concluded that beyond the vaguest 
 hint of her call on Bascom and the object of the 
 meeting, she could not show her hand to Maxwell; 
 for he would feel it his duty to step in and prevent 
 the possibility of any such open breach as failure on 
 Hepsey s part would probably make in the parish 
 solidarity. For once she must keep her own counsel 
 except for Jonathan, whose present infatuated con 
 dition made him an even safer and more satisfactory 
 source of "advice" than he normally was. But the 
 evening before the meeting, as he sat on Hepsey s 
 porch, he began to experience qualms, perhaps in his 
 capacity as Junior Warden. But Hepsey turned upon 
 him relentlessly: 
 
 "Now see here! You know I don t start some- 
 thin unless I can see it through; and if it means a 
 scrap, so much the better. Next to a good revival, 
 a good hard scrap in a stupid parish has a real spir 
 itual value. It stimulates the circulation, increases 
 the appetite, gives people somethin to think about, 
 and does a lot of good where peaceful ways would 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 285, 
 
 fail. The trouble with us is that we ve always been 
 a sight too peaceful. If I ve got to do it, I m goin 
 to make a row, a real jolly row that ll make some 
 people wish they d never been born. No-no-no ! Don t 
 you try to interfere. We ve come to a crisis, and I m 
 goin to meet it. Don t you worry until I begin to 
 holler for first aid to the injured. A woman can t 
 vote for a vestryman, though women form the bulk 
 of the congregation, and do most all of the parish 
 work; and the whole church d go to smithereens if it 
 weren t for the women. But there s one thing a wo 
 man can always do: She can talk. They say that talk 
 is cheap; but sometimes it s a mighty expensive arti 
 cle, if it s the right kind ; and maybe the men will have 
 to settle the bills. I m going to talk; perhaps you 
 think that s nothing new. But you don t know how I 
 can talk when once I get my dander up. Somebody s 
 goin to sit up and pay attention this time. Bascom ll 
 conclude to preside at the meetin ; whichever way he 
 means to act; and I ve fixed it so Maxwell will be 
 engaged on other duties. No; go way. I don t want 
 to see you around here again until the whole thing s 
 
 over." 
 
 "All right Hepsey, all right. I guess if it goes 
 through the way you want you ll be that set up you ll 
 be wantin to marry old Bascom stead of me," 
 
286 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 chuckled Jonathan, as the lady of his choice turned 
 to enter the house. 
 
 She faced round upon him as she reached the door, 
 her features set with grim determination : 
 
 "If I get the whole caboodle, bag and baggage, 
 from the meetin and from Bascom, there s no know- 
 in but what I ll send for the parson and be married 
 right there and then. There isn t a thing I could 
 think of, in the line of a real expensive sacrifice, that d 
 measure up as compensation for winnin out not 
 even marryin you, Jonathan Jackson." 
 
 So Hepsey laid down lines for control of the meet 
 ing, ready with a different variety of expedients, from 
 point to point in its progress, as Sylvester Bascom s 
 attitude at the time might necessitate. For she felt 
 very little anxiety as to her ability to carry the main 
 body of the audience along with her. 
 
 The night of the meeting the Sunday School Room, 
 adjacent to the church, was filled full to a seat at least 
 a quarter of an hour before the time announced for 
 the meeting. Hepsey had provided herself with a 
 chair in the center of the front row, directly facing 
 the low platform to be occupied by the chairman. 
 Her leather bag hung formidably on one arm, and 
 a long narrow blank book was laid on her lap. She 
 took little notice of her surroundings, and her anxiety 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 287 
 
 was imperceptible, as she thrummed with a pencil 
 upon the book, glancing now and then at the side 
 door, watching for Bascom s entrance. The meeting 
 buzzed light conversation, as a preliminary. Had 
 she miscalculated on the very first move? Was he 
 going to treat the whole affair with lofty disdain? 
 As the hour struck, dead silence reigned in the room, 
 expectant; and Jonathan, who sat next her, fidgeted 
 nervously. 
 
 "Five minutes grace, and that s all; if he s not 
 here by then, it ll be up to you to call the meetin to 
 order," whispered Hepsey. 
 
 "SakesI" hissed the terrified Junior Warden, "you 
 didn t say nothin about that, Hepsey," he protested. 
 
 She leveled a withering glance at him, and was 
 about to reduce him to utter impotence by some scath 
 ing remark, when both were startled by a voice in 
 front of them, issuing from "the chair." Silently the 
 Senior Warden had entered, and had proceeded to 
 open the meeting. His face was set and stern, and 
 his voice hard and toneless. No help from that quar 
 ter, Hepsey mentally recorded. 
 
 "As the rector of this parish is not able to be pres 
 ent I have been asked to preside at this meeting. I 
 believe that it was instigated that is suggested, by 
 of the ladies who believe that there are some 
 
288 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 matters of importance which need immediate atten 
 tion, and must be presented to the congregation with 
 out delay. I must beg to remind these ladies that the 
 Wardens and Vestrymen are the business officers of 
 the church; and it seems to my poor judgment that 
 if any business is to be transacted, the proper way 
 would be for the Vestry to take care of it. However, 
 I have complied with the request and have under 
 taken to preside, in the absence of the rector. The 
 meeting is now open for business." 
 
 Bascom sat down and gazed at the audience, but 
 with a stare so expressionless as gave no further in 
 dex to his mood. For some time there was a rather 
 painful silence; but at last Hepsey Burke arose and 
 faced about to command the audience. 
 
 "Brethren and sisters," she began, "a few of us 
 women have made up our minds that it s high time 
 that somethin was done towards payin our rector 
 what we owe him, and that we furnish him with a 
 proper house to live in." 
 
 At this point, a faint murmur of applause inter 
 rupted the speaker, who replied: "There. There. 
 Don t be too quick. You wont feel a bit like ap- 
 plaudin when I get through. It s a burnin shame 
 and disgrace that we owe Mr. Maxwell about two 
 hundred dollars, which means a mighty lot to him, 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 289 
 
 because if he was paid in full every month he would 
 get just about enough to keep his wife and himself 
 from starvin to death. I wasn t asked to call this 
 meetin ; I asked the rector to, and I asked the Senior 
 Warden to preside. And I told the rector that some 
 of us both men and women had business to talk 
 about that wasn t for his ears. For all he knows, 
 we re here to pass a vote of censure on him. The fact 
 is that we have reached the point where somethin 
 has got to be done right oft quick; and if none of the 
 Vestrymen do it, then a poor shrinkin little woman 
 like myself has got to rise and mount the band wagon. 
 I m no woman s rights woman, but I have a con 
 science that ll keep me awake nights until I have freed 
 my mind." 
 
 Here Hepsey paused, and twirling her pencil be 
 tween her lips, gazed around at her auditors who 
 were listening with breathless attention. Then she 
 suddenly exclaimed with suppressed wrath, and in 
 her penetrating tones : 
 
 "What is the matter with you men, anyway? You d 
 have to pay your butcher, or your baker, or your 
 grocer, whether you wanted to or not. Then why in 
 the name of conscience don t you pay your parson? 
 Certainly religion that don t cost nothin is worse 
 than nothin . I ll tell you the reason why you don t 
 
2 9 o HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 support your parson: It s just because your rector s 
 a gentleman, and can t very well kick over the traces, 
 or balk, or sue you, even if you do starve him. So 
 you, prosperous, big-headed men think that you can 
 sneak out of it. Oh, you needn t shuffle and look 
 mad; you re goin to get the truth for once, and I had 
 Johnny Mullins lock the front door before I began." 
 
 The whole audience responded to this sally with a 
 laugh, but the speaker relented not one iota. "Then 
 when you ve smit your rector on one cheek you quote 
 the Bible to make him think he ought to turn his 
 overcoat also." Another roar. "There: you don t 
 need to think I m havin a game. I m not through 
 yet. Now let s get right down to business. We owe 
 our rector a lot of money, and he is livin in a tent 
 because we neglected to pay the interest on the rectory 
 mortgage held by the Senior Warden of our church. 
 Talkin plain business, and nothin else, turned him 
 out of house and home, and we broke our business 
 contract with him. Yes we did ! And now you know 
 it. 
 
 "Some of us have been sayin and I was one of 
 em till Mr. Maxwell corrected me that it was mean 
 of Mr. Bascom to turn the rector and his wife out 
 of their house. But business is business, and until 
 we ve paid the last cent of our contributions, v;s 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 291 
 
 haven t any right to throw stones at anyone. Wait 
 till we ve done our part, for that ! We ve been the 
 laughing stock of the whole town because of our 
 pesky meanness. That tent of ours has stuck out on 
 the landscape like a horse fly on a pillow sham. 
 
 "It s not my business to tell how the rector and his 
 wife have had to economize and suffer, to get along 
 at all; or how nice and uncomplainin they ve been 
 through it all. They wouldn t want me to say any- 
 thin of that; sportsmen they are, both of ern. The 
 price of food s gone up, and the rector s salary gone 
 down like a teeter on a log. 
 
 "Now, as I remarked before, let s get right down 
 to business. The only way to raise that money is to 
 raise it! There s no use larkin all round Robin 
 Hood s barn, or scampering round the mulberry bush 
 any longer. I don t care for fairs myself, where you 
 have to go and buy somethin you don t want, for 
 five times what it s worth, and call it givin to the 
 Lord. And I don t care to give a chicken, and then 
 have to pay for eatin the same old bird afterwards. 
 I wont eat soda biscuit unless I know who made ern. 
 Church fairs are an invention of the devil to make 
 people think they re religious, when they are only 
 mighty restless and selfish. 
 
 "The only thing to do is to put your hands in your 
 
292 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 trousers pockets and pay, cash down, just as you 
 would in any business transaction. And by cash, I 
 don t mean five cents in the plate Sunday, and a dollar 
 for a show on Tuesday. We ve none of us any busi 
 ness to pretend to give to the Lord what doesn t cost 
 a red cent, as the Bible says, somewheres. Now don t 
 get nervous. I m going to start a subscription paper 
 right here and now. It ll save lots of trouble, and 
 you ought to jump at the chance. You ll be votin 
 me a plated ice-water pitcher before we get through, 
 for bein so good to you just as a little souvenir of 
 the evenin ." 
 
 A disjointed murmur of disapproval rose from sun 
 dry parts of the room at this summary way of meet 
 ing the emergency. Nelson, who had tried in vain to 
 catch the eye of the chair, rose at a venture and re 
 marked truculently: 
 
 "This is a most unusual proceeding, Mrs. Burke." 
 
 The chair remained immobile but Hepsey turned 
 upon the foe like a flash of lightning. 
 
 "Precisely, Mr. Nelson. And we are a most un 
 usual parish. I don t claim to have any information 
 gained by world-wide travel, but livin my life as I ve 
 found it here, in ths town, I ve got to say, that this 
 is the first time I ever heard of a church turnin its 
 rector out of house and home, and refusin to give 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 293 
 
 him salary enough to buy food for his family. May 
 be in the course of your professional travels this 
 thing has got to be an everyday occurrence to you, 
 but there s some of us here, that aint got much in 
 terest in such goings-on, outside of Durford." 
 
 "You have no authority to raise money for the 
 church; I believe the Warden will concur in that opin 
 ion?" and he bowed towards Bascom. 
 
 "That is a point for the meeting to decide," he re 
 plied judicially, as Hepsey turned towards him. 
 
 "Seems to me," continued Mrs. Burke, facing the 
 audience, "that authority wont fill the rector s purse 
 so well as cash. It s awful curious how a church with 
 six Vestrymen and two Wardens, all of them good 
 business men men that can squeeze money out of a 
 monkey-wrench, and always get the best of the other 
 fellow in a horse-trade, and smoke cigars enough to 
 pay the rector s whole salary get limp and faint and 
 find it necessary to fall back on talkin about author 
 ity when any money is to be raised. What we want 
 in the parish is not authority, but just everyday plain 
 business hustle, the sort of hustle that wears trousers; 
 and as we don t seem to get that, the next best kind is 
 the sort that wears skirts. I d always rather that men 
 shall do the public work than women; but if men 
 wont, women must. What we need right here in 
 
294 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Durford is a few full grown men who aren t shirks 
 or quitters, who can put up prayers with one hand 
 while they put down the cash with the other; and I 
 don t believe the Lord ever laid it up against any 
 man who paid first, and prayed afterwards. 
 
 "Now brethren, don t all speak at once. I m goin 
 to start takin subscriptions. Who s goin to head the 
 list?" 
 
 A little withered old woman laboriously struggled 
 to her feet, and in a high-pitched, quavering voice 
 began : 
 
 "I d like to give suthin towards the end in view. 
 Our rector were powerful good to my Thomas when 
 he had the brown kitties in his throat. He came to 
 see him mos every day and read to him, and said 
 prayers with him, and brought him papers and jelly, 
 He certainly were powerful good to my Thomas; 
 and once when Thomas had a fever our rector said 
 that he thought that a bath would do my Thomas a 
 heap of good, and he guessed he d give him one. So 
 I got some water in a bowl and some soap, and our 
 rector he just took off his coat, and his vest, and his 
 collar, and his cuffs, and our rector he washed Thom 
 as, and he washed him, and he wa " 
 
 "Well," Hepsey interrupted, to stay the flow of elo 
 quence, "so you d like to pay for his laundry now, 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 295 
 
 would you Mrs. Sumner? Shall I put you down for 
 two dollars? Good ! Mrs. Sumner sets the ball roll- 
 in with two dollars. Who ll be the next?" 
 
 As there was no response, Mrs. Burke glanced 
 critically over the assembly until she had picked her 
 man, and then announced: 
 
 "Hiram Mason, I m sure you must be on the anx 
 ious bench?" 
 
 Hiram colored painfully as he replied: 
 
 "I don t know as I am prepared to say what I can 
 give, just at present, Mrs. Burke." 
 
 "Well now let s think about it a little. Last night s 
 Daily Bugle had your name in a list of those that gave 
 ten dollars apiece at St. Bridget s fair. I suppose the 
 Irish trade s valuable to a grocer like yourself; but 
 you surely can t do less for your own church? I ll 
 put you down for ten, though of course you can 
 double it if you like." 
 
 "No," said Hiram, meditatively; "I guess ten ll 
 do," 
 
 "Hiram Mason gives ten dollars. The Lord lov- 
 eth a cheerful giver. Thanks, Hiram." 
 
 Again there was a pause ; and as no one volunteered, 
 Hepsey continued: 
 
 "Sylvester Perkins, how much will you give?" 
 
 "I suppose I ll give five dollars," Sylvester respond- 
 
296 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 ed, before Mrs. Burke coud have a chance to put him 
 down for a larger sum. "But I don t like this way 
 of doin things a little bit. It s not a woman s 
 place to hold up a man and rob him in public 
 meetin ." 
 
 "No, a woman usually goes through her husband s 
 pockets when he s asleep, I suppose. But you see I m 
 not your wife. Thanks, Mr. Perkins : Mr. Perkins, 
 five dollars," she repeated as she entered his sub 
 scription in the book. "Next?" she called briskly. 
 
 "Mrs. Burke, I ll give twenty dollars, if you think 
 that s enough," called a voice from the back timidly. 
 
 Everyone turned to the speaker in some surprise. 
 He was a delicate, slender fellow, evidently in bad 
 health. He trembled nervously, and Mrs. Burke 
 hesitated for an instant, between fear of hurting his 
 feelings and letting him give more than she knew he 
 could possibly afford. 
 
 "I am afraid you ought not to give so much, Amos. 
 Let me put you down for five," she said kindly. "We 
 mustn t rob Peter to pay Paul." 
 
 "No, ma am, put me down for twenty," he per 
 sisted; and then burst forth "and I wish it was 
 twenty thousand. I d do anything for Mr. Maxwell; 
 I owe it to him, I tell you." 
 
 The speaker hesitated a moment and \yiped his 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 297 
 
 forehead with his handkerchief, and then continued 
 slowly, and with obvious effort : 
 
 "Maybe you ll think I am a fool to give myself 
 away before a crowd like this, and I a member of 
 the church; but the simple fact is that Mr. Maxwell 
 saved my life once, when I was pretty near all in." 
 
 Again the speaker stopped, breathing heavily, and 
 there was absolute silence in the room. Regaining his 
 courage, he continued: "Yes, he saved me, body and 
 soul, and I guess I ll tell the whole story. Most of 
 you would have kicked me into the street or lodged 
 me in jail; but he wasn t that kind, thank God! 
 
 "I was clerking in the Post Office a while back, and 
 I left town one night, suddenly. I d been drinking 
 some, and when I left, my accounts were two hundred 
 dollars short. The thing was kept quiet. Only two 
 men knew about it. Mr. Maxwell was one. He got 
 the other man to keep his mouth shut, handed over 
 the amount, and chased after me and made me come 
 back with him and stay at his house for a while. Then 
 he gave me some work and helped me to make a new 
 start. He didn t say a word of reproach, nor he 
 didn t talk religion to me. He just acted as if he 
 cared a whole lot for me, and wanted to put me on 
 my feet again. 
 
 "I didn t know for a long time where Mr. Max- 
 
298 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 well got the money for me but after a while I dis 
 covered that he d given a chattel mortgage on his 
 books and personal belongings. Do you suppose 
 that there s anybody else in the world would have 
 done that for me? It wasn t only his giving me the 
 money; it was finding that somebody trusted me and 
 cared for me, who had no business to trust me, and 
 couldn t afford to trust me. That s what saved me 
 and kept me straight. 
 
 "I haven t touched a drop since, and I never will. 
 I ve been paying my debt to him as quick as I can, 
 and as far as money can pay it; but all the gold in 
 the world wouldn t even me up with him. I don t 
 know just why I ve told all about it, but I guess it s 
 because I felt you ought to know the kind of a man 
 the rector is; and I m glad he isn t here, or he d never 
 have let me give him away like this." 
 
 Amos sat down, while the astonished gathering 
 stared at him, the defaulter, who in a moment of 
 gratitude had betrayed himself. The woman next to 
 him edged a little farther away from him and watched 
 him furtively, but he did not seem to care. 
 
 Under the stimulus of this confession, the feelings 
 of the people quickly responded to the occasion, and 
 a line soon formed, without further need of wit or 
 eloquence on Hepsey s part, to have their subscrip- 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 299 
 
 tions recorded. In half an hour, Mrs. Burke, whose 
 face was glowing with pleasure albeit she glanced 
 anxiously from time to time towards old Mr. Bas- 
 com, in an endeavor to size up his mood and force 
 his intentions had written down the name of the last 
 volunteer. She turned towards her audience: 
 
 "As I don t want to keep you waitin here all night 
 while I add up the subscriptions, I ll ask the chairman 
 to do it for me and let you know the result. He s 
 quicker at figurin than I am, I guess," with which 
 compliment, she smilingly handed the book to the 
 Senior Warden. While the old man bent to his task, 
 the room buzzed with low, excited conversation. 
 Enough was already known of Bascom s hostility to 
 the rector, to make the meeting decidedly curious as 
 to his attitude towards Hepsey s remarks anent the 
 mortgage; and they knew him well enough to be 
 aware that he would not allow that item in her speech 
 to go unanswered, in some way or other. 
 
 All eyes rested upon the gaunt figure of the chair 
 man, as he rose to his feet to announce the total of 
 the subscription list. He cleared his throat, and 
 looked down at Hepsey Burke; and Jonathan, as he 
 squinted anxiously at Hepsey by his side, noticed that 
 she sat with her eyes tight-closed, oblivious of the 
 chairman s glance. Jonathan looked hastily up at Bas- 
 
300 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 com, and noticed him shift his position a little ner 
 vously, as he cleared his throat again. 
 
 "The amount subscribed on this list, is two hun 
 dred and thirty-seven dollars and thirty-five cents," he 
 said. The loud applause was instantaneous, and Jon 
 athan turned quickly to Hepsey, as he stamped his 
 feet and clapped his hands. 
 
 "Thirty-seven thirty-five more than we owe him; 
 Hepsey, you ve done fine," he chortled. 
 
 But Hepsey s look was now riveted on the chair 
 man, and except for a half-absent smile of pleasure, 
 the keenest anxiety showed in her expression. 
 
 Bascom cleared his voice again, and then pro 
 ceeded : 
 
 "Mrs. Burke informed you that the rector s salary 
 was in arrears to the extent of about two hundred 
 dollars. It is now for this meeting to pass a formal 
 resolution for the application of the amount sub 
 scribed to the object in view." 
 
 Hepsey s lips narrowed; not a cent was down on 
 the list to the name of the Senior Warden; the debt 
 was being paid without assistance from him. 
 
 "I presume I may put it to the meeting that the 
 amount, when collected, be paid over to the rector by 
 a committee formed for that purpose?" proceeded 
 the chairman. 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 301 
 
 This resolution being duly seconded and carried, 
 Bascom continued : 
 
 "Before we adjourn I request the opportunity to 
 make a few remarks, in reply to Mrs. Burke s ob 
 servations concerning the ejection of the rector from 
 the house which he occupied. She was good enough 
 to spare my feelings by pointing out that from a busi 
 ness or legal point of view it was not I who was re 
 sponsible for that act, but the parishioners, who, hav 
 ing purchased the rectory subject to a mortgage, had 
 failed to meet the interest upon it. That is what Mrs. 
 Burke said: \vhat she did not say, and what none of 
 you have said in public, though I reckon you ve said 
 it among yourselves, I will take upon myself to say 
 for her and you." 
 
 He paused and every eye was fixed upon him and 
 every mouth agape in paralysed astonishment: and 
 the said features of Hepsey Burke were no exception 
 to the rule. 
 
 "When," continued Bascom evenly and urbanely, 
 "the word went round that the interest on the mort 
 gage had got behind, and the money must be collected 
 for it, those concerned no doubt remarked easily: Oh, 
 I guess that ll be all right. Bascom wont worry about 
 that; he don t need it; anyway he can pay it to him 
 self, for the parish, if he does." 
 
3 02 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 There was an uncomfortable stirring of the audi 
 ence at this shrewd thrust; but Hepsey could not con 
 tain herself, and laughed right out, clapping loudly. 
 
 "And yet I don t mind saying that if I had thought 
 of suggesting to anyone of you such a method of col 
 lecting interest due to you, you might have kicked 
 some," he commented dryly. 
 
 "At the next step, when I ultimately concluded to 
 act upon my right to eject Mr. Maxwell from the 
 rectory, I ve no doubt that on all sides it was : Well, 
 did you ever know the likes of that? Turning the 
 rector out of house and home ! Well he s a skinflint 
 for fair! " 
 
 He paused and watched the effect. This time his 
 hearers sat absolutely motionless. 
 
 "And I agree with you," he added presently, in a 
 quiet voice: "I was a skinflint for fair!" 
 
 Almost Hepsey forgot herself so far as to clap 
 thunderously: she caught her hands together just in 
 time recollecting that her demonstration would be 
 taken too literally. 
 
 "But I would not have you misunderstand me: 
 though it was for me to call myself a skinflint for that 
 act, it was not for you to do so. You did so on 
 wrong grounds. Those who in making money have 
 been less successful than others, find it convenient to 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 303 
 
 leave all such obligations upon the shoulders of the 
 richer man, and to say it s up to him; he can afford 
 it. Is it any wonder that it makes the rich man sour 
 on subscriptions and philanthropies? He has as 
 much, or more, of inducement to apply his earnings 
 and savings to his own ends and pleasures; why then, 
 is it not up to all, in their own proportions to meet 
 social needs? A good many years of such meanness 
 among his neighbors makes even a rich man sour and 
 mean, I guess. And that s what it made me and 
 though that isn t a justification of my act, it gave me 
 as much right to call you skinflints as for you to call 
 me : all except one of you, Hepsey Burke." 
 
 The meeting quivered with tense excitement. What 
 did it all mean? If a chicken had sneezed the whole 
 gathering would have been dissolved in hysterics, it 
 was so keyed up with a sense of the impending dis 
 closure of a deep mystery. As for Hepsey, she sat 
 motionless, though Jonathan believed that he caught 
 sight of a tear glistening in its descent. 
 
 "Hepsey Burke had a right to call me a skinflint, 
 because she knew what none of you knew; but because 
 it was private knowledge she wouldn t make use of it 
 against me not unless she couldn t have done what 
 was right any other way. And now I m going to tell 
 you what she knew: 
 
3 o 4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "The rectory was my wife s property, and she in 
 tended it as a gift to the parish, for the rectory of 
 the church. I was preparing the deeds of transfer, 
 when she died suddenly, as some of you remember," 
 his voice made heroic efforts to keep clear and steady, 
 "owing to her death before the transfer, that house 
 passed to our daughter; and what I intended to do 
 was to buy it of her and present it to he parish. I 
 delayed, at first for good reasons. And I suppose as 
 I got more and more lonesome and mixed less and 
 less with people, I got sourer and then I delayed 
 from meanness. It would have been easy enough for 
 me to buy it of my daughter, and she d have been 
 willing enough ; but as I saw more and more put upon 
 me, and less and less human recognition I was a 
 rich man, and needed no personal sympathy or en 
 couragement, it seemed I held back. And I got so 
 mean, I couldn t make friends with the rector, 
 even." 
 
 He paused, and from the half smile on his face, 
 and the hint of brightness that passed over his expres 
 sion, the audience caught relief. 
 
 "I guess a good shaking up is good for a man s 
 liver: it cures a sour stomach and as there are those 
 that say the way to a man s heart is through his stom 
 ach, perhaps it cures a sour heart. I got my shaking 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 305 
 
 up all right, as you know; and perhaps that s been 
 working a cure on me. Or perhaps it was the quiet 
 ministrations of that little Mrs. Betty of yours" 
 applause "or the infusion of some of the rector s 
 blood in my veins (he let himself be bled to keep me 
 alive, after I d lost what little blood I had, as you 
 probably have never heard)" shouts of applause 
 "or possibly what cured me was a little knitting-visit 
 that Hepsey Burke paid me the other day, and during 
 which she dropped some home-truths: I can t say. 
 
 "Before I decided what I would do about the rec 
 tory, I wanted to see what you would do, under Mrs. 
 Burke s guidance, this evening. You ve shouldered 
 your share, as far as the rector s salary is concerned. 
 Well I ll add what I consider my fair share to that, 
 fifty dollars. The arrears due on the mortgage in 
 terest is one hundred and twenty dollars. I shall hold 
 you to your side of that bargain, to date. If you pay 
 the rector the two hundred dollars due him on his 
 salary, you will need to subscribe about another forty 
 to make up the interest : that done, and paid to me, I 
 will do my part, and present the rectory to the parish, 
 in memory of my dear wife, as she desired." 
 
 He sat down. 
 
 Hepsey rose and called out in a clear voice : 
 
 "He s right; Mr. Bascom s dead right; it s up to 
 
3 o6 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 us to be business first, and clear ourselves of the debt 
 on a business bargain; then we can accept the gift 
 without too much worryin ." And she sent a very 
 friendly smile over to Bascom. 
 
 Again there was some cheering, in the midst of 
 which Jonathan Jackson jumped to his feet beside 
 Hepsey; and facing the room, with his arm through 
 hers, he shouted: 
 
 "Hepsey Burke and me will make up the differ 
 ence!" 
 
 Another cheer went up, and Hepsey s face flamed 
 scarlet amid the craning of necks and chaffing laugh 
 ter half puzzled, half understanding. 
 
 Sylvester Bascom rose to his feet, and there was 
 silence. With assumed seriousness he addressed Hep 
 sey, still standing: 
 
 "Mrs. Burke, so that it may be quite in order, do 
 you endorse Mr. Jackson s authority to speak for you 
 in this matter?" 
 
 Every eye was turned upon them; but Hepsey 
 could find not a word, so flabergasted was she by this 
 sudden move of Jonathan s. Jonathan himself col 
 ored furiously, but stuck to his guns, and Hepsey s 
 arm: 
 
 "Well, to tell the truth," he replied in a jaunty 
 voice, "Hepsey Burke and me s goin to be married 
 
HEPSEY CALLS A MEETING 307 
 
 right now, so I guess we ll combine our resources, 
 like." 
 
 This announcement gave the coup de grace to any 
 further attempt at orderliness, and the room became a 
 seething chorus of congratulatory greetings aimed at 
 Hepsey and Jonathan, in the midst of which Sylvester 
 Bascom slipped out unnoticed. 
 
3II3B 
 
 BttilK 
 
 CHftBTERXXIV 
 
 Rim 
 
 ice 
 
 WHEN at last the room emptied, and she was 
 free to do so, Hepsey, accompanied by the 
 possessive Jonathan, found her way over to 
 the Maxwells. Before she started to tell them the 
 results of the meeting she cast a glance of whimsical 
 affection at her palpitating fiance. 
 
 "I d best let him get it off his chest then we ll 
 get down to business," she laughed. 
 
 So Jonathan, amid much handshaking and congrat 
 ulation told his victorious story until, v/hen he 
 
 308 
 
OMNIUM GATHERUM 309 
 
 seemed to Hepsey to become too triumphant, she 
 broke in with: "Now that s enougn for you, Mr. 
 Proudmouth. Let me just say a word or two, will 
 you ? The meetin wasn t called for you and me, and 
 I want to tell about more important happenin s." 
 
 When they had heard of all that had been accom 
 plished, Mrs. Betty got up and put her arms round 
 Hepsey s neck and gave her such a hug, and a kiss on 
 each cheek, that brought the tears to Mrs. Burke s 
 eyes. And Donald, moist-eyed in spite of himself, 
 took her hand in both of his, and expressed his feel 
 ings and relieved the tension at the same time by 
 saying : 
 
 "Hepsey Burke, for all your molasses and the little 
 bit of vinegar you say you keep by you, there are no 
 flies on yon as Nickey would put it." 
 
 At which sally Jonathan slapped his knee, and ejac 
 ulated: 
 
 "No! there aint, by gum! There Vint no flies on 
 Hepsey, if I do say it myself." 
 
 At which proprietory speech Hepsey wagged her 
 head warningly, saying, as they left "There s no 
 downin him, these days ; I m sure I don t know what s 
 come over the man." 
 
 On their way home Jonathan was urgent for fixing 
 the day. 
 
3io HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 "You said you d marry me right there and then, if 
 the meetin came your way, now you know you did, 
 Hepsey," he argued. "So if we say to-morrow 
 
 But though Hepsey would never go back on a 
 promise, she protested against too summary an in 
 terpretation of it, and insisted on due time to prepare 
 herself for her wedding. So a day was set some two 
 months hence. 
 
 Meanwhile, Sylvester Bascom s truer and pristine 
 nature blossomed forth in the sunnier atmosphere 
 around him, and after he had delivered himself of 
 his feelings to the Maxwells, in a visit which he paid 
 them next day at their nomadic quarters, he begged 
 leave to put the rectory in full repair before he hand 
 ed it over to the parish, and the Maxwells returned 
 to it. 
 
 And he was better than his word; for, with Hep 
 sey and Virginia accompanying her, he insisted on 
 Mrs. Betty taking a trip to the city a few days later 
 for the purpose of selecting furnishings of various 
 kinds dear to the hearts of housekeepers Hepsey 
 absorbing a share of the time in selecting her "trous 
 
 seau." 
 
 Meanwhile, in due course the rectory was made a 
 new place, inside and out, and a few weeks after their 
 return the transformed house, repainted inside and 
 
OMNIUM GATHERUM 311 
 
 out, papered and curtained and charmingly fitted with 
 new furniture, was again occupied by the Maxwells. 
 
 That the interest of the parish should for a while 
 be concentrated on the doings at the rectory, and di 
 verted from her own important preparations, was a 
 blessing to Hepsey for she continually declared to 
 Mrs. Betty that, little as she knew Jonathan in his 
 new manner, she knew herself less ! 
 
 It was decided that the wedding should be in the 
 church, and a reception held after the ceremony, for 
 the bride and bridegroom, at the rectory and that, in 
 this way, the whole parish would celebrate, in honor 
 of the auspicious occasion, and of other happy results 
 of Hepsey s parish meeting. 
 
 The day before the wedding, while Mrs. Betty and 
 Virginia were busily occupied at Thunder Cliff and 
 the rectory, dividing their attentions between the last 
 touches to Hepsey s wardrobe, and preparing confec 
 tions for the wedding guests, Donald Maxwell was 
 closeted with Mr. Bascom at Willow Bluff for a con 
 siderable time. It was known that the Senior Warden 
 was to support his colleague, Jonathan, at the mor 
 row s event, and it was presumed that the rector was 
 prompting him in his duties for the occasion. 
 
 The ceremony next day at the church was a center 
 of fervent and cordial good-will and thanksgiving, as 
 
312 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Jonathan, supported by Sylvester Bascom, took to 
 wife Hepsey, given away by Mrs. Betty, with Vir 
 ginia as a kind of maid of honor, hovering near. It 
 was well for Donald Maxwell that his memory served 
 him faithfully in conducting the service, for his eyes 
 were in misty conflict with his bright smile. Nickey 
 from the front pew, watched his mother with awe 
 struck eyes, and with son-like amazement at her self- 
 possessed carriage under the blaze of so much public 
 attention. 
 
 There followed a procession from the church, and 
 soon the rectory, house and garden, were alive with 
 chattering groups, of all sorts and conditions, for the 
 invitations had been general and public, irrespective 
 of class or sect, at Hepsey s special request. There 
 was a constant line of friends, known and unknown, 
 filing past bride and bridegroom, with congratulatory 
 greetings and cordial good wishes. There were 
 speeches from delegations of various local bodies, and 
 from local notables of various degrees; and there 
 were wedding presents, out-vying each other, as it 
 seemed, in kindly personal significance rather than in 
 costliness. Among them all, and arranged by Mrs. 
 Betty at the very center, the Vestry s gift to the bride 
 stood easily first: a plated ice-water pitcher! 
 
 It was left to Maxwell to make the farewell speech, 
 
OMNIUM GATHERUM 313 
 
 a. the company crowded round the automobile, lent 
 by the Bascoms, in which Hepsey and Jonathan sat in 
 smiling happiness, ready to drive to the station, on 
 their way for a week s honeymoon. 
 
 "Friends!" he said, in a voice that reached to the 
 skirts of the assembled throng, "before we give a val 
 edictory three times three to the happy couple, I 
 have to tell you of a plan that has been made to com 
 memorate this day permanently and so that Mrs. 
 Jackson may not forget the place she holds in our 
 hearts, and always will hold, as Hepsey Burke. 
 
 "It is Mr. Bascom s idea, and I know it will give 
 lasting pleasure to Mrs. Burke I mean Mrs. Jack 
 son," he corrected, laughing , "as well as to all Dur- 
 ford, young and old. The beautiful piece of wood 
 land, half a mile beyond Willow Bluff, is to-day pre 
 sented by Mr. Bascom to the town, and we shall short 
 ly repair there to watch the boys erect the tent now 
 on the church plot, and which Mr. Jackson has kindly 
 presented to the Boy Scouts." 
 
 "Gee," yelled Nickey, in astounded delight, and 
 leading a cheer that interrupted the speaker for some 
 moments. 
 
 Maxwell continued: "Mr. Bascom s generous gift 
 to the town will be kept in order by the Boy Scouts, 
 as their permanent camping-ground and I daresay 
 
3 i4 HEPSEY BURKE 
 
 Nickey Burke will not be averse to occupying the tent 
 with his corps, during the week or so that Mrs. Jack 
 son is to be away. The place is to be called in her 
 honor Hepsey Burke Park. And now Three 
 cheers for the bride and groom." 
 
 The cheers were given with whole-hearted fervor, 
 as the man at the wheel tooted, and the auto started 
 on its way with the smiling pair, followed by the peo 
 ple s delighted shouts of approbation at the happy 
 plan for perpetuating among them the cheerful name 
 of Hepsey Burke. 
 
Being just a ward or two 
 about ourselves 
 
 We are getting rather proud of the imprint 
 which appears on the title pages and backs 
 of all the books we publish. It is compara 
 tively a new imprint, but the few years of our 
 existence have been years of accomplishment. 
 
 Above all else we have aimed at publishing 
 only a few books, but those few to be books 
 that could be taken into the home, our home 
 or your home. In a word, the kind of books 
 you want your daughters and your sons to 
 read. Red-blooded and true as life is true, 
 but clean. 
 
 If you have enjoyed this story and would 
 like to become acquainted with other books 
 which we publish fill out the following blank 
 and in addition to our catalogue you will re 
 ceive free of any charge a copy of: 
 
 A Little Journey to 
 The Home of Everywoman 
 
 By ELBERT HUBBARD 
 
 A pamphlet reprinted from the Philistine 
 
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 Address ... 
 
A Message of Hope, to the World, From the Loneliness 
 of the Adirondack Wilds 
 
 "Once To Every Man" 
 
 By LARRY EVANS 
 
 Exiled from an active New York business career to the 
 loneliness of the Adirondack wilds, among the mountains 
 and the pines, Larry Evans has really learned to know 
 the stars and glory of the universe and the whole sublime 
 scheme of things learned, indeed, to know God. 
 
 Left absolutely alone, day after day, night after night, 
 month after month, out in the open, in an invalid s 
 chair, he wrote "Once to Every Man," a story of the 
 everlasting hills, the smiling green fields and the running 
 brooks, that throbs with the never ending wonder of 
 woman. 
 
 Four Illustrations and Jacket in Colors by 
 Anton Otto Fisher. Price $1.35 net. 
 
 " MY FRIEND, O. HENRY," by 
 
 Seth Moyle, with every copy of "ONCE 
 jo EVERY MAN;" An intimate, 
 heart to heart biography of the great genius life by 
 the man who helped to discover him. See last page 
 of "Once to Every Man" for this offer. 
 
 THE H. K. FLY COMPANY, 263 Fifth Ave.,NewYork 
 
Breathe Deep of the Pungent Purple gage ! 
 
 The Long Chance 
 
 By PETER B. KYNE 
 
 Have you ever learned the desert s little 
 ways, chummed up with the mesa, or fought 
 it out with death at the tag end of all creation? 
 Here is a story fresh from the heart of the 
 desert with all of the tang of the West to it 
 that Remington put into his paintings. 
 
 Surely you have read Mr. Kyne s Western 
 stories in the Saturday Evening Post, Red 
 Book, or Metropolitan Magazine and been 
 thrilled to your finger tips, while the tears 
 came to your eyes as you read of God s real 
 Christians, men who sometimes curse and pro 
 fane, and flirt with the flesh pots of life; but 
 whose hearts are pure gold. 
 
 "Surely there is only one quality in human 
 kind that really matters softening, suffering 
 and despair and turning away wrath, and as 
 Donna knelt by the grave of the man who had 
 possessed that quality to such an extent that 
 he had considered his life cheap as a means 
 of expressing it, she prayed that her infant son 
 might be endowed with the virtues and brains 
 of his father and the wanderer who slept be 
 neath the stone: 
 
 Dear God, help me raise a Matt and teach him to be kind." 
 
 Four illustrations and jacket in color by 
 Frank Tenney Johnson. Price $1.35 net. 
 
 H. K. FLY COMPANY 
 
 263 Fifth Avenue New York 
 
EVERY MAN 
 
 should read 
 
 WALTER BROWN S 
 
 MODERN MORALITY PLAY 
 
 "EVERYWOMAN" 
 
 HER PILGRIMAGE IN QUEST OF LOVE 
 
 No American play of recent years 
 has been so universally endorsed by 
 Universities, dramatic clubs and critics 
 as this play "Everywoman." 
 
 Like "Experience" it is allegorical 
 and it was the first successful attempt 
 to revive the ancient morality play of 
 which "Everyman" is the best known 
 example. 
 
 If you have enjoyed reading 
 "Experience," you will not be disap 
 pointed in "Everywoman." 
 
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 by Elbert Hubbard. 
 
 Bound Uniformly with "Experience" 
 12mo. cloth, illustrated, net $1.00 
 
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EXPERIENCE 
 
 A MORALITY PLA Y OF TOD A Y 
 
 By 
 
 GEORGE V. HOBART 
 
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 "Experience" is a morality play 
 similar to "Everywoman" as far as 
 characterization, environment and 
 allegory are concerned. Both of these 
 plays are fashioned after the ancient 
 morality play of which "Everyman" is 
 the best known example. 
 
 You literally sit in the grand stand 
 of life and watch yourself go by. 
 
 Every reader of "Everywoman" will 
 enjoy "Experience." Taken together 
 they represent the best allegorical drama 
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 sister play "Everywoman," will be found 
 a stimulating study for schools and 
 colleges. 
 
 Bound Uniformly with "Everywoman" 
 12mo. cloth, illustrated, net $1.00 
 
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