SAND N BUSHES
 
 OTHER BOOKS 
 BY MISS POOL 
 
 o* 
 
 A GOLDEN SORROW 
 
 i2mo, cloth. Uniform with "Sand n Bushes." 
 Second impression. 441 pages. Price $1.50 
 
 IN BUNCOMBE COUNTY 
 
 i6mo, board. Third impression. 295 pages. 
 Price $1.25 
 
 IN A DIKE SHANTY 
 
 i6mo, cloth. With a cover designed by Frank 
 Hazenplug. 231 pages. Price $1.25 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 HERBERT S. STONE & CO. 
 CHICAGO & NEW YORK
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 MARIA LOUISE POOL 
 
 HERBERT S. STONE fir COMPANY 
 
 CHICAGO & NEW YORK 
 
 MDCCCXCIX 

 
 COPYRIGHT 1899, BY 
 HERBERT S. STONE & CO
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 CHAP. PAGE 
 
 I. BUYING THE HORSES i 
 
 II. A CAT JOINS THE PARTY . . 29 
 
 III. THE GIRL WITH A SPINE . . 57 
 
 IV. THE COMPACT OF THE WATERING 
 
 TROUGH . . . . . 83 
 
 V. AMABEL AS A REFORMER . . 113 
 
 VI. IN THE LANE 143 
 
 VII. SHE THAT WAS EUNICE CALKINS 173 
 
 VIII. AT TWENTY DOLLARS A TON . . 199 
 
 IX. PROVINCETOWN AND THE GONZAGAS 229 
 
 X. RATHER EXCITING .... 257 
 
 XI. THE HARBOR .... 283 
 
 XII. ON THE DUNES .... 311 
 
 XIII. FAREWELL, PROVINCETOWN . 343 
 
 2200506
 
 Sand n Bushes 
 
 oj i & 
 
 I 
 
 BUYING THE HORSES 
 
 I tried to represent to Amabel that it 
 was just like her to undertake a horse 
 back excursion when everybody else 
 was on wheels, and horseback riding 
 was all out of fashion. Was not there 
 an article in each Sunday paper headed 
 "The Extinction of the Horse," and 
 weren t the Western farmers feeding 
 colts to their pigs because colts were 
 cheaper even than corn? 
 
 "They give the colts to the pigs 
 because they want the corn to burn, 
 interrupted a rough voice which be-
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 longed to Amabel s brother. Amabel s 
 brother is a boy over whose head four 
 teen summers have passed, and who 
 thinks he knows everything; he is also 
 anxious to impart what he knows to 
 every one, particularly to every femi 
 nine human being. He apparently be 
 lieves that all feminine human beings 
 are created for the mere purpose of 
 allowing themselves to be instructed by 
 men and boys. 
 
 Truth forces me to state that Albert 
 does know a good many things, but as 
 they are generally things that I don t 
 care anything about knowing myself, 
 sometimes the boy is a weariness. 
 Truth bids me also acknowledge that 
 there are people who hate to be in 
 structed ; I am afraid that I am one of 
 those people. I can even force myself 
 to read a very dull novel because it 
 isn t true, and I can t learn anything 
 from it; whereas, if I should suddenly 
 be made to believe that the story was a 
 relation of facts, it would be impossible
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 for me to read another word of it. I 
 often wonder if any one else has 
 such an undisciplined, perverse mind. 
 From the profusion of dull novels I 
 should almost think I was not the sole 
 possessor of this kind of mental powers. 
 
 When I reasoned with Amabel as to 
 the untimeliness of her choice of loco 
 motion, she made answer that she 
 wasn t ruled by fashion, and that now 
 is exactly the time to buy horses, when 
 nobody wanted them, and they were 
 about to become extinct. They were 
 cheap. 
 
 "Thirty-six and a half per cent 
 cheaper than they were nineteen 
 months ago," said Albert. "They are 
 going- down at a ratio of 
 
 "Amabel," said I, looking across 
 Albert to his sister, "will you kindly 
 prevent that boy from mentioning 
 ratios in my presence? Ratios are 
 devilish." 
 
 Albert gave a slight whoop, put two 
 hands on the back of a chair and
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 jumped over it, as if he and the chair 
 were playing leapfrog, and it was his 
 turn to leap. It was this indulgence in 
 whoopings and jumpings that made 
 Albert, though an immature prig, still 
 a boy, and that had many times pre 
 vented me from taking his life in return 
 for well-meant but unwished-for offer 
 ings of facts. Amabel always main 
 tained that her kinsman would outgrow 
 this superabundant knowledge and at 
 last come to a realization that people 
 were not living in this world for the 
 sole purpose of receiving statements of 
 averages and so forth from him. She 
 was in the habit of telling him that it 
 would be an unmitigated blessing when 
 he should be old enough to fall in love 
 with a girl and to have that girl suit 
 him. To this and many other remarks 
 Albert was in the habit of responding: 
 
 "So s a hen." 
 
 When all other retorts failed this 
 phrase always appeared perfectly satis 
 fying to the owner of it. So satisfying, 
 4
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 indeed, that I used to wish that I was 
 the possessor of some such soul-filling 
 sentence to be used on any occasion. 
 
 Albert had now sat down upon the 
 chair over which he had just jumped. 
 He sat astride and rested his chin on 
 the top of the back. Thus brought 
 into prominence, his eyes looked 
 sharper than ever, and his freckles 
 seemed actually to form a sort of bas- 
 relief across his nose, they showed so 
 plainly. 
 
 "You c n talk all you re a mind to, 
 Am," he said, "but you ll have to take 
 it out in talking, I guess. Pa won t 
 let you have the horse ; he ain t such a 
 fool as that. And side saddles ruin 
 the back not your back, you know. 
 I read yesterday in the animal ency 
 clopaedia that a man could better ride 
 any kind of an animal in the proportion 
 of " 
 
 "Albert, won t you please shut up? 
 Besides, I don t want pa s horse." 
 
 This from Amabel.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, don t you? Whose do you in 
 tend to have, then? If I had one I d 
 shoot it rather than have a woman 
 ransacking round with it. A woman 
 spoils anything she touches. 
 
 There was no response to this 
 assertion. I took up a paper and began 
 to read. Since this youth was not my 
 brother I did not feel privileged to 
 take hold of his jacket collar and assist 
 him to the door. And I had a sneak 
 ing, remonstrant sort of a kindness for 
 him, for which I could not account. 
 Amabel was counting stitches in some 
 crochet work, or she appeared to be 
 thus engaged. 
 
 In a moment Albert took from one 
 of his pockets a crossgun about as 
 long as his middle finger. He carefully 
 adjusted the string at the notch pro 
 vided for it near the trigger ; then he 
 pulled out from another pocket a few 
 dried peas. He put one dried pea in 
 front of the trigger and extended the 
 weapon steadily toward his sister. 
 6
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I say, Am," he cried, throw up 
 your hands, or you re right eye s a 
 goner. 
 
 Amabel started, involuntarily 
 dropped her work and raised both 
 hands over her head. 
 
 "Now tell me where you mean to get 
 your horses," commanded Albert. 
 
 Amabel resumed her former position. 
 
 "You horrid little boy, you!" she 
 cried. 
 
 "Where do you mean to get your 
 horses?" reiterated the youth. 
 
 He snapped his dried pea at a ven 
 ture, and it hit the cat which sat in the 
 window. 
 
 "I mean to get them at Izzard s 
 auction rooms," was the answer. 
 
 "Gee! That s rich! You ll be 
 cheated to death. I ll go with you and 
 protect you. 
 
 "You shan t!" 
 
 "I shall! Does pa know?" 
 
 "No; he doesn t. I m of age." 
 
 "Yes, a good while since," said this 
 7
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 heartless being. "I shall go with 
 you," he reiterated. 
 
 Then, after a moment of thought, 
 during which he was snapping the 
 trigger of his crossgun, he announced : 
 
 "I ll buy one myself; they re so 
 tarnal cheap I can do it. I ve got 
 money enough. What day you going?" 
 
 "No matter," from Amabel. 
 
 "Pooh! You needn t think I shan t 
 find out. I would not miss it for ten 
 cents." 
 
 I ventured to say that the proportion 
 of boys who missed things they did not 
 mean to miss was very great ; whereat 
 Albert whistled on a high key and left 
 the room. 
 
 It is perhaps illustrative of Albert s 
 capabilities to state that he did find 
 out, though until we had started for 
 Boston on the selected day we believed 
 that we had eluded him. 
 
 Boston is twenty miles away by steam 
 cars and twenty-two by bicycle. We 
 went by steam cars. We had passed 
 8
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 two stations; and I had entirely for 
 gotten that Amabel had a brother, 
 when my attention was drawn to the 
 back of the person who was winding up 
 the brakes for the third stop. 
 
 That was surely Albert s back, 
 and the brakeman was allowing him 
 to take a hand. I don t know why 
 people let Albert do anything he 
 wants to do. I suppose a ship s 
 captain would allow that boy to navi 
 gate the ship. 
 
 The brake handle whizzed round and 
 then stopped. Albert, with one hand 
 on the rail, leaned his whole body out 
 into space, as he looked forward along 
 the curving line. It was at this time 
 that Amabel saw him. She jumped, 
 but she restrained herself. 
 
 The next moment the train began to 
 slow up, and then Albert put his head 
 in at the door and yelled : 
 
 "Brain-tree! Brain-tree! Change 
 for the South Shore! This train 
 express to Borston!" 
 9
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Then he saw us and he grinned. He 
 came forward into the car. The train 
 presently lurched forward. Albert 
 disdained to steady himself by putting 
 a hand on anything. His feet were 
 firmly planted very wide apart. He 
 was standing by our seat and gazing 
 through the window, an expression of 
 great enjoyment on his face. There 
 fore I turned my head and looked in 
 the same direction. 
 
 I saw a fat man with a gripsack in 
 his hand running down the road, try 
 ing to catch the last car, which was 
 now sliding along by the station. 
 When the fat man was very near he 
 stubbed his toe and fell down sprawl 
 ing. The train went heartlessly on. 
 Albert snickered in much enjoyment. 
 As for me, I would not have smiled 
 before that boy for any consideration 
 under such circumstances. 
 
 "Why, Albert," exclaimed his sister, 
 "I thought you were at school." 
 
 "Hullo, sis," was the response. "I
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 didn t think you were at school. I m 
 playing hookey. Where you going?" 
 
 "To Boston." 
 
 "So m I. I m going to Izzard s to 
 buy a horse." 
 
 Amabel sat back in her seat with a 
 desperate calmness in her manner. 
 
 "That s just like you!" she cried. 
 
 "No, tisn t, either; I never bought 
 a horse in my life. 
 
 The boy did not look at either of us. 
 His eyes were roving all over the car. 
 He was chewing gum assiduously. 
 
 "Let s make the best of it," I said 
 soothingly to Amabel. Let the boy go. " 
 
 "You d better; cause I m going, 
 anyway." 
 
 Albert sat down on the arm of our 
 seat and swung one leg. 
 
 Amabel suddenly began to smile, her 
 smile immediately changed to a 
 laugh, and this laugh actually ap 
 peared to disconcert her brother. He 
 grew red in the face. He slid down 
 from the arm of the seat and muttered
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 that he didn t see anything so blamed 
 funny. Then he walked away, and we 
 did not see him even when we reached 
 the station. As we went up Kneeland 
 Street we said to each other that, after 
 all, Albert had become "sick of it." 
 
 It here occurs to me that perhaps I 
 ought to explain that both Amabel and 
 myself were old horsewomen. We had 
 ridden more or less ever since we were 
 grown up, until within the last year or 
 two, when circumstances had rendered 
 it impossible for us to have horses. 
 Now, however, affairs were slightly 
 different with us. And we thought 
 we knew horses well enough to buy 
 a couple. Not that we knew them. 
 No one knows them. Is not the 
 jockey who conceives himself to be 
 an "all-round judge" often dreadfully 
 deceived? 
 
 And there is quite a bewitching 
 excitement in going to a horse auction 
 with a modest sum of money where 
 withal to buy a modest steed. A lot-
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 tery is tame when compared with this 
 experience. In a lottery you know, 
 once and for all, whether you have 
 drawn a prize or a blank. In buying a 
 horse you can never be quite certain 
 that your blank won t sometime turn 
 out a prize. Are we not often reading 
 how some poor old plug has suddenly 
 become a fast trotter? To those who 
 have bought horses, and bought poor 
 ones, I need not dwell upon the fact 
 that the hope that some wonderful 
 transformation will sometime be ef 
 fected is a hope that takes a great deal 
 of killing. 
 
 But you don t think of anything like 
 this when you draw near to the auction 
 mart. There is a smell of stables, 
 extending as far as the sidewalk, but it 
 is not a strong odor, and is far from 
 being disagreeable, it is so suggestive 
 of the possibility of a lucky find in 
 horseflesh. I don t believe that any 
 one ever bought a horse without a 
 secret feeling, almost a conviction, that 
 13
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 the seller of it did not know how very 
 good it was, but you, as the buyer, 
 would presently discover. Years of 
 experience will not eradicate this 
 weakness. Perhaps it is not a weak 
 ness; perhaps it is the sustaining 
 strength of the horse purchaser, the 
 thing that buoys him up through 
 experience after experience. It lasts 
 as long as his money lasts, and that is 
 long enough to serve the purposes of 
 the dealer. 
 
 There was an odor of tan and saw 
 dust, and tobacco smoke also, all grow 
 ing stronger as we came to the wide 
 entrance, and I must add that the 
 pools of dark yellow spittle grew not 
 only more frequent, but larger. They 
 were not so large, however, but that 
 we could step over them; and I am 
 not speaking of them in any complain 
 ing spirit, only in a generally descrip 
 tive manner. 
 
 There were some men strolling about 
 in a semi-dark interior; and we heard 
 14
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 from somewhere an occasional stamp 
 ing and whinnying. 
 
 We stood about in a studiously 
 elegant and aimless manner, waiting. 
 We had never been to just this kind of 
 a place before, but we knew that it 
 was strictly respectable; that the pro 
 prietors were noted for their fair deal 
 ing; and we had heard that women 
 came here. The slight indefiniteness 
 we felt as to the truth of the latter 
 statement lent a pleasurable uncer 
 tainty to an already uncertain under 
 taking. 
 
 Very soon a man came from far off 
 in the dusk. We saw him coming a 
 long time, and his form gradually 
 detached itself from the gloom, grew 
 into a large figure, then to a large 
 figure with a tall silk hat on its head, 
 and a thick yellow chain drawn across 
 in a tight manner from one white 
 waistcoat pocket to the other. A few 
 yards further toward us and we saw a 
 broad face with a yellow mustache and 
 15
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 pendulous under lip, which left in con 
 stant, though limited view, the tops of 
 some dark under teeth. 
 
 In the next moment this man took off 
 his hat; in the next he had come to 
 Amabel s side and had said: "Good- 
 morning, ladies. What can I do for 
 you?" 
 
 I am almost ashamed to acknowledge 
 that I could be prepossessed by a man 
 with a hanging under lip and the 
 puffy face that belonged to this man, 
 but there was something unmistakably 
 like a horse dealer about him, and I 
 am irresistibly drawn toward a horse 
 dealer. There is a good nature, a 
 charming but loosely fitting benevo 
 lence, an ease of manner that is not at 
 all the ease of manner of the social 
 world, and I am so depraved that I like 
 it so depraved that I even confess to 
 liking it, which, Amabel says, is worse 
 still. 
 
 My friend replied that she came 
 about horses. 
 
 16
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, yes; you have some here that 
 are to be sold to-day? You wish to 
 withdraw them? Ladies mostly do 
 change their minds." 
 
 Here a broad smile which revealed 
 two serious gaps in the upper row of 
 teeth; a hasty twist of the tongue 
 about a black lump of something, pre 
 sumably tobacco, in the mouth. 
 
 It was somehow pleasant that any 
 one should think that we had horses 
 here for sale. "No," said Amabel, 
 "we want to buy. We want two 
 directly, so we came here. We re plan 
 ning to go a horseback trip. " 
 
 "Oh, you want saddlers, then?" 
 
 Yes, it was saddlers we required. 
 "Kind and trustworthy," explained 
 Amabel, "and not too much like sheep, 
 either. 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 The man had put on his hat, and he 
 
 now had a thumb thrust into each 
 
 trousers pocket. He was gazing over 
 
 our heads, his eyes fixed, as he appar- 
 
 17
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 ently, in his mind, reviewed all the 
 saddlers that had been sent in. 
 
 He brought his gaze down to Ama 
 bel s face and remarked that he 
 thought they had just the thing. 
 
 "You want all the gaits, I s pose?" 
 
 "Yes," replied Amabel, "we want 
 all the gaits we can have, but we must 
 have a good gallop. 
 
 "Exactly." 
 
 Another gaze over our heads. Then : 
 
 "P raps you d like to see some of the 
 animals ; then you can decide on what 
 you ll care to bid on." 
 
 "Yes," with ill-disguised eager 
 ness, "we should like to see some of 
 them. 
 
 Step this way, please. 
 
 So we followed him. On the way 
 our guide stepped into what appeared 
 to be a little office, and he said some 
 thing into a telephone, and then we 
 went on until we came to a large 
 space, where there was sawdust on the 
 floor, and where it was not any too 
 
 18
 
 SAND N* BUSHES 
 
 light. But we soon became accus 
 tomed to the dusk. 
 
 "They ll bring em right along, said 
 the man. 
 
 He walked a few paces away and 
 spat in a somewhat surreptitious 
 manner. He returned to us, just as 
 the subdued sound of horses hoofs was 
 heard, and then a man in his shirt 
 sleeves came running into sight. He 
 was between two horses, with a hand 
 on the halter of each. They all three 
 came up in good style, the animals 
 cantering gently. 
 
 Amabel and I kept silence and 
 gazed. I always look to see how a 
 horse stands; if he puts all four feet 
 firmly down and if his knees bend out 
 any. 
 
 What is it that makes a horse have 
 such a fine appearance in a sale stable? 
 
 These two were sorrel in color, but 
 one had mild eyes, the other, eyes with 
 the white showing, and with pointed, 
 uneasy ears. 
 
 19
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 The man stepped up and smoothed 
 the neck of the mild one. 
 
 "These both belonged to one gentle 
 man," he began. "He had them for 
 his daughters to ride, but the family s 
 goin to Europe, and they re selling 
 their livestock. Sold for no fault 
 lope and single step sound and kind. 
 That is, practically sound. I ain t 
 tryin to deceive. It don t pay us to 
 deceive. These ll probably go cheap 
 forced sale. They ve been living 
 together, so I thought maybe you d like 
 to take them. Here, you" looking 
 about him "somebody get on to these 
 horses and show their paces. Where s 
 Jim?" walking away a few paces and 
 shouting, "Jim!" 
 
 Presently, from far off, and from 
 greater darkness, a boy emerged. 
 Even at that distance he did not seem 
 entirely unfamiliar. It was Albert, 
 who now came along as if he had 
 always lived in Izzard s stables. He 
 nodded shortly at us, apparently not
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 being quite sure that he had ever met 
 us before. He was chewing a straw; 
 his cap was on one side of his head. 
 
 "I ll try a turn on one of "em," he 
 remarked. 
 
 "Eh?" from our guide, "and who in 
 the I mean, who are you?" 
 
 "Name s Waldo. I m looking for a 
 saddler. That girl in the biggest hat s 
 my sister" without giving a glance to 
 either of us. 
 
 Albert went up to the horse with the 
 white in its eyes. He took a good grip 
 on the mane, and but I don t know 
 how boys do these things he sprang 
 up on the animal s bare back. 
 
 Sometimes I think that boys, not 
 withstanding some quite evident blem 
 ishes of taste and character and 
 deportment, are a superior order of 
 beings ; and that they, and they alone, 
 ought to be rewarded when they grow 
 up with the power to vote as to what 
 shall be done in this great world. 
 
 "Oh, Albert!" cried Amabel. 
 21
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 But the boy did not look at either of 
 us now. His legs were gripping the 
 horse s sides. He reached out a hand 
 toward the halter. 
 
 "Give us a hold, will ye?" he cried, 
 to the man in his shirt sleeves. 
 
 "No, I won t," was the short 
 answer, "till I ve got a bridle on her. 
 What in 
 
 Here the speaker made such an 
 effort to suppress the profanity that 
 came leaping to his lips that he grew 
 purple, and glared at us as being the 
 cause of his apoplectic symptoms. 
 
 The person with the watch chain, 
 our guide, stepped forward, took the 
 halter rope of the other horse, and held 
 it while Albert s mount was being led 
 away. 
 
 Presently the thud of feet sounded 
 again, this time very quick, and Albert 
 reappeared at a brisk canter, the saw 
 dust flying up behind him. He pulled 
 in in front of us ; his sorrel snorted and 
 kicked out a hind leg.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "She s feeling her oats," remarked 
 our companion. 
 
 "She s a first-rater," announced 
 Albert. "I m going to bid on her; so 
 you needn t bid, sis, and run her up. 
 There s plenty of em here good 
 enough for women. Whoa! What s 
 she doing with her hind foot? Whoa! 
 I say!" 
 
 "She s stretching her leg a bit," 
 replied the man. "She s been stand 
 ing, so she s kinder frisky. Hadn t you 
 better get down what d you say your 
 name was? By George! You d better 
 get down while you can!" 
 
 The ears of the sorrel mare were laid 
 flat, so that her head had a curious 
 resemblance to the head of a snake. 
 She threw up not only one hind foot, 
 but both simultaneously. The first 
 time she did this Albert clung fast; the 
 second time, which was in about the 
 space of a flash of lightning after the 
 first, Albert went over the mare s head 
 on to the sawdust. 
 
 23
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Amabel ran to him. 
 
 "Quite frisky, I declare!" said the 
 man with the watch chain. He paid 
 no attention to the boy. Could it be 
 because such scenes were common 
 here? 
 
 Albert scrambled to his feet. He 
 put his hand up to his nose; he glared 
 over it at his sister. 
 
 "Now shut up!" he commanded, 
 though Amabel had not spoken, "I 
 ain t hurt. It don t hurt to fall like 
 that." 
 
 He removed his hand and gazed at it 
 incredulously. 
 
 "Gee! Taint bloody, is it? How 
 scart you look! Thunder! I m glad I 
 ain t a girl!" 
 
 He brushed the sawdust from his 
 knees. 
 
 "I s pose you ll run home n tell 
 father," he added. 
 
 Then he thrust his hands in his 
 pockets and took a few steps, making a 
 visible and stiff attempt to strut. 
 24
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 He walked toward the man. The sor 
 rel mare had cantered off out of sight. 
 
 "That s a first-rate saddler," he said, 
 in a hoarse voice, "but I don t call her 
 suitable for women. I shan t let you 
 buy her, sis. 
 
 "I don t want her," said Amabel, 
 shortly. 
 
 The man burst into a sudden laugh, 
 which he suppressed as suddenly; he 
 became extremely grave. 
 
 "She s only a bit gay," he said. "I 
 guess she s a little too much horse for 
 you; I know about what you want. 
 Tom, bring out the gray and the black. 
 Put side saddles on them. This gray 
 and black ll suit, I m pretty sure" 
 turning confidentially to us. "You see, 
 ladies, these last two are to be sold 
 for no fault ; been used by two women 
 out in the country ; owners 
 
 "Going to Europe, I suppose," sug 
 gested Amabel. 
 
 The man hastily stroked his mus 
 tache. 
 
 25
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "No," he went on, "one of em has 
 broken her hip, and the other won t 
 ride without her." 
 
 "I m sure I can understand that," 
 responded Amabel, seriously. And 
 then to me, "If you had broken your 
 hip I shouldn t want to be riding round 
 the country just because my hip was 
 sound." 
 
 "Exactly," promptly from the man. 
 
 The gray and the black came for 
 ward from the half-darkness, the man 
 in his shirt sleeves between them. 
 
 There were now a number of people 
 strolling about, and horses were being 
 led forward and were having their 
 mouths opened and their ribs punched 
 by different men. It was still early, 
 for we had come very early indeed, 
 with a purpose. 
 
 I don t know how Amabel felt, but I 
 was sorry to see those saddles on those 
 horses. I didn t want to ride round 
 among those men and perhaps be flung 
 down in front of one of them. It was 
 26
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 more than a year since I had been in a 
 saddle, and who knew how that woman 
 had broken her hip? 
 
 I communicated this suggestive ques 
 tion to Amabel, who made answer that 
 there was no doubt in her mind as to 
 how those bones had been broken, and 
 she added that if I would run away 
 now she would follow me. 
 
 "Now, ladies," said the man. We 
 did not run away. We advanced in a 
 nonchalant manner, and Amabel first 
 put her foot in the extended hand, and 
 was tossed successfully into the saddle. 
 I boggled somehow, but I got seated 
 and took up the bridle reins. Like 
 clouds here and there were groups of 
 men and some horses visible. 
 
 "They both guide by the rein, you 
 know, ladies."
 
 II 
 
 A CAT JOINS THE PARTY 
 
 The only thing I saw plainly at first, 
 after I really knew that I was in the 
 saddle, was Albert standing in front of 
 my horse s head. He was in that 
 attitude so often assumed by clowns in 
 a circus, bent forward, with a hand on 
 each knee. His mouth was puckered, 
 and when he caught my eye he winked. 
 This wink confused me, and filled me 
 with a longing to have a whip in my 
 hand and send its lash stinging across 
 that freckled face. 
 
 "They both guide by the rein, 
 ladies." 
 
 The repetition of these words roused 
 me. I laid the left rein gently on my 
 horse s neck; at the same time, appar 
 ently, Amabel laid the right rein on 
 29
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 her horse s neck. The result was that 
 they put their heads together and one 
 of them bit the other. The other was 
 my steed; he resented the attack by 
 wheeling abruptly about and sending a 
 foot hard against the rear of Amabel s 
 horse. 
 
 I was so disturbed by this perform 
 ance that Albert, always in front of 
 me, seemed for the moment to be a 
 dozen boys, all grinning. 
 
 But I kept my seat ; and I was glad 
 to be in the saddle once more, even in 
 a sales-stable with the present back 
 ground. 
 
 I soon became conscious that the 
 background was fast becoming the 
 foreground. The men who had been 
 strolling about in the distance came 
 forward. 
 
 Amabel leaned toward me, and whis 
 pered that we had been idiots. 
 
 "I should think, now you re on em, 
 you d try em," said Albert. 
 
 It did seem a wise suggestion, and 
 30
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 we acted upon it. Amabel started off 
 at a good gallop, and I followed her. 
 But I did not believe that these horses 
 had ever lived together. I wished 
 that persons wouldn t lie to me. 
 
 But I liked my horse. I had a 
 notion that there was a sympathy be 
 tween us. This was rather a danger 
 ous notion to harbor on so slight an 
 acquaintance; still I harbored it. 
 
 We went round again. More men 
 gathered as witnesses. I had a moving 
 vision of light colored soft felt hats and 
 plaid trousers. A piercing wonder as 
 to whether women really did come here 
 again darted through my mind. 
 
 This time my horse did a most 
 delightful amble, and my impression 
 that there was sympathy between us 
 deepened. 
 
 I stopped in front of the man. I 
 hope it is understood when I use that 
 phrase that I refer to our guide. 
 
 "That fellow s about the checker, 
 now, ain t he?" he exclaimed, genially. 
 31
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I immediately restrained myself and 
 answered coldly that his gaits were 
 tolerable. Then I slipped down from 
 my seat. 
 
 "Ain t a better saddler in the 
 State," was the response. 
 
 Here Amabel came tip and her horse 
 bit at mine. 
 
 "But they have never lived to 
 gether," she asserted. And she dis 
 mounted. She looked at me sharply, 
 and I answered the look, but I didn t 
 know what she meant. The men in 
 soft hats and plaid trousers sauntered 
 off into the deeper dusk again. I heard 
 one of them laugh, and then another 
 chuckle. 
 
 Albert echoed this chuckle as if he 
 knew what was the cause of merriment. 
 It was of no use to wish to kill him, for 
 it is wrong to kill boys ; if it were not 
 wrong I m sure very few of them 
 would live to grow up. And a person 
 doesn t wish to be hanged for taking 
 the lives of boys. 
 
 32
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 More horses were brought out, all of 
 them "first-class A No. i saddlers," all 
 of them to be sold for no fault. There 
 were grays and blacks, and roans 
 and chestnuts, and sorrels. But we 
 mounted no more of them. 
 
 Albert did try several, but we paid 
 no attention to what he said. 
 
 At last we left the place. But we 
 had been bitten, and we were crazy, 
 for we went back at the time of the 
 auction. And we bid in those two 
 horses we had ridden. Nobody bid 
 against us, that is, to amount to any 
 thing, and at the time I thought this 
 peculiarly fortunate. I thought so 
 until Albert kindly informed me that 
 the reason folks didn t bid was because 
 they knew better, and it wasn t be 
 cause we were lucky. I have never 
 been willing to tell how ridiculously 
 small was the sum I paid for The 
 Thane. We immediately named him 
 The Thane, for no reason whatever. 
 Amabel s mount cost $1.50 more than 
 33
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 mine; I don t know why, I m sure, for 
 any one could see with half an eye that 
 mine was a much finer animal. 
 
 "You d better start off mighty quick 
 on your trip, Am," Albert remarked, 
 as we walked home from the station, 
 "for pa won t want them mules round 
 long." 
 
 When the two horses arrived before 
 dark that day, and Amabel s father 
 looked at them, all the remark he made 
 then was: 
 
 "Well, horses are not extinct yet." 
 
 Amabel went directly to her room 
 and burst into tears. I tried to com 
 fort her by telling her that simply be 
 cause her father was a man was no 
 reason that he should be a judge of 
 horse flesh. And I added that I wished 
 we were on the road to the Cape. 
 When we were once on the way, even 
 if our purchases were not approved, no 
 one would dare to sneer at them. 
 
 On the whole, Amabel s father 
 behaved very well. The morning we 
 34
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 started he told us that we were fair 
 riders, and we were going through a 
 civilized country, where some one, no 
 doubt, would telegraph to him if it 
 were necessary. Then he said that he 
 had prepared a little gift for each of 
 us, and he pinned to the lapel of my 
 jacket a white button. I found that 
 my full name and address were printed 
 on my button, and Amabel s only 
 varied in that it was her name upon 
 hers. 
 
 "Kind of tags, you know," said the 
 gentleman. And he kissed Amabel 
 and shook hands with me; and the 
 housekeeper threw old shoes after us, 
 one of which hit Amabel s horse and 
 made him lunge forward. And we 
 both looked back and waved our 
 hands, and The Thane shied violently 
 at something which proved to be 
 Albert leaping over the wall to say 
 good-by. 
 
 We did not know why the boy had 
 given up buying a horse. 
 35
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 He now came forward to his sister s 
 side and held out an object, saying as 
 he did so : 
 
 "Here, Sis, take this. You ll see 
 I ve fixed a place in the saddle for it. 
 I sh ll rest nights if I know you have 
 something to protect you." 
 
 Amabel extended her hand. She 
 was touched by this thoughtfulness. 
 But she asked warily : 
 
 "Will it go off?" 
 
 "Not unless you throw it." 
 
 Albert drew back. 
 
 "Where you goin to stop first 
 night?" 
 
 "Middleborough." 
 
 "All right, go ahead. You both 
 look splendid." 
 
 We went ahead. What did this 
 kindness and this compliment mean? 
 
 When we had turned the first corner 
 we stopped that Amabel might exam 
 ine what her brother had bestowed 
 upon her. It proved to be a bowie 
 knife, very rusty, and much hacked at 
 36
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 the edge, as though rocks had been 
 cut with it. 
 
 Amabel placed it in a leather sheath 
 which she now found tacked to her 
 saddle. Little did we think that this 
 weapon might be the means of destroy 
 ing our enemies, saving our lives, and 
 bringing us back safely from Cape 
 Cod. For the Cape, to any one dwell 
 ing south of Boston, always means 
 Cape Cod. To us there is no other 
 cape in the world that is worth men 
 tioning. And we were going there. 
 A small bag was fastened at the back 
 of each saddle; our steeds were well 
 fed ; our hearts beat high ; the blue of 
 summer was above us; fair bloomed 
 the way; with something or other at 
 the prow, and pleasure at the helm 
 thus our palfreys pranced gaily along 
 the village street, and knights and 
 ladies looked down upon us from tower 
 and battlement; while low-browed 
 churls stared from postern gates. But 
 little we recked. 
 
 37
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 To come back to realism, Mrs. 
 Mahala Bacon, commonly called "Aunt 
 Ma ly, " was hanging out her wash on 
 a line which was fastened between the 
 cherry trees in her front yard. She 
 had a wet pillowcase in her hand, and 
 a clothespin in her mouth, when she 
 caught sight of us. She dropped her 
 pillowcase into the basket, but retained 
 the clothespin between her teeth as she 
 hurried forward. We were going at 
 the tiniest bit of a canter, and we 
 hoped to get by, but she flung out a 
 hand to us and we were obliged to 
 stop. Aunt Ma ly had small black 
 eyes that seemed something like holes 
 bored in her face ; she had a big mouth 
 and no chin to speak of, and she lived 
 alone with two cats and a canary bird. 
 The canary needed constant guarding 
 from the cats. Aunt Ma ly s occupa 
 tion was to take in washing and protect 
 her cats. She had for years taken in 
 our washing. 
 
 She was now obliged to remove that 
 38
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 bit of wood from her mouth. She 
 gazed at us a moment, however, before 
 she spoke. Then she asked : 
 
 "Be them your horses?" 
 
 Yes, they were. 
 
 Her silence after our reply was 
 extremely irritating. I shall always 
 be grateful that we didn t break that 
 silence otherwise than by saying at 
 last, "G long!" this exclamation being 
 addressed to our steeds, and not to 
 Aunt Ma ly. 
 
 "Wait a minute! where be you 
 started for?" 
 
 "The Cape." 
 
 "The Cape? Oh, my sister, Sarah 
 Ramsey, lives to Provincetown. She s 
 married to a Portugee down there. Be 
 you goin s fur s Provincetown?" 
 
 Yes, we thought we should. 
 
 "Oh, well wait a minute." She 
 looked from us to the open door, then 
 back again. I saw Amabel fidget in 
 her saddle. 
 
 Aunt Ma ly came a few steps nearer. 
 
 39
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 So near that she placed one parboiled 
 hand on The Thane s neck, and that 
 animal tossed its head. 
 
 "If I put a kitten in a bag, can t you 
 take it down to Sister Sarah Ramsey?" 
 she asked; "bein" s you re goin to 
 Provincetown. 
 
 I immediately stammered out a 
 refusal, feeling very mean and unkind. 
 She ought to have known better. A 
 kitten in a bag, indeed ! 
 
 Aunt Ma ly s face fell. She turned 
 a little to one side. I thought her chin 
 quivered. 
 
 "Oh, well, you see," she began, in a 
 minute, "Sister Sarah s always wanted 
 one of my kittens that was marked all 
 yeller, n black, n white, n gray, 
 like its mother. Terrible good mous- 
 ers they be. N I ve never had one 
 jest exactly like its mother till this 
 last litter. It s four weeks old now, 
 n s cunnin you d die a-watchin 
 it." 
 
 Aunt Ma ly had dropped her clothe s- 
 40
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 pin. She now stooped and picked it 
 up. She moved back further still. 
 Her heavy mouth closed sorrowfully. 
 I thought that Amabel uttered a slight 
 groan. 
 
 "Sister Sarah ain t walked a step for 
 over five years, n she s s fond of pets 
 that I tell her she ought to have a 
 menager-ee. I guess I ll finish puttin 
 out them clo es." 
 
 She turned away and hurried to her 
 basket. She picked up the pillowcase 
 and shook it so that it snapped. Why 
 didn t we go on? I was waiting for 
 Amabel to start, and I was wondering 
 if she felt as guilty as I felt. It is not 
 an agreeable sensation to feel guilty, 
 and one resents the emotion. 
 
 Aunt Ma ly was now hanging out a 
 sheet. I wished that we had gone by 
 some other road, but who could fore 
 see that some one on this particular 
 highway would request us to take 
 charge of a kitten in a bag? 
 
 Now I heard Amabel saying, "Aunt 
 41
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Ma ly, I ll try to carry the kitten if 
 you ll get it ready. " 
 
 I had feared this; for Amabel has a 
 kind heart. If you travel with a per 
 son who has a kind heart you may 
 expect all sorts of impositions. 
 
 I remained silent. I knew that it 
 was wicked to be angry. I .studiously 
 gazed out over the fields and tried to 
 appreciate them as scenery. But my 
 blood was boiling. Here we were, 
 just started on a pleasure trip, with 
 absolutely no facilities for transporting 
 kittens. Then a thought struck me. 
 We could, perhaps, get the kitten as 
 far as Middleborough. When we had 
 reached that town, I \vould procure a 
 box fitted with the latest thing in 
 ventilation, and I would express the 
 kitten to Sarah Ramsey, who had 
 married a Portuguese. 
 
 Having let a ray of light in upon my 
 soul by this resolve, what do you 
 think were my feelings when I listened 
 to the following conversation? 
 42
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Aunt Ma ly came quickly forward 
 again. Her face was quite bright, 
 and her voice was unsteady, as she 
 said: 
 
 "Oh, well, will you now? But 
 mebby it ll be some trouble though 
 it s a dretful cute kitten, and the very 
 image of its mother." 
 
 I listened to hear Amabel utter a 
 falsehood and say, "It won t be any 
 trouble," but she only repeated that 
 she would try to take it. 
 
 Aunt Ma ly hurried into the house. 
 We heard her calling "Kitty! kitty!" 
 and then scurrying about, slamming 
 doors. I refrained from looking at my 
 companion, and I think she refrained 
 from looking at me. 
 
 After a few minutes the woman 
 came running down the path, ducking 
 her head to avoid the wet clothes. 
 She was beaming. She had an empty 
 shorts bag held up against her breast 
 empty, save for a slight protuber 
 ance which mewed and squirmed. 
 43
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I thought I d take this kind of a 
 bag," she said, " cause the meshes is 
 so loose she can breathe first-rate, n 
 you won t have to worry bout her 
 suffocatin . She likes fresh meat 
 grand, though it s plaguey little she gits 
 with me. If you let her out in your 
 room nights wherever you stop, she ll 
 ketch all the mice. She ll be real handy 
 for ye both, that way. There, can t 
 you have her ride somehow like that?" 
 
 Aunt Ma ly placed the writhing 
 package in front of Amabel. 
 
 "You ll have to bring me a cord to 
 fasten the bag to the pommel, for I 
 may not be able to hold it always," 
 said my friend. How mildly she 
 spoke! Was she also thinking of 
 express facilities? 
 
 "That s splendid," exclaimed the 
 owner of the kitten. "Don t mind 
 her mewing. She don t mean nothing. 
 Oh, I most forgot. I want ye to 
 promise not to put her aboard no 
 express. Sister Sarah s often wrote 
 44
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 me that she d pay charges if I d only 
 send one of my yeller n black, n 
 gray, n white cats to her, but I always 
 did say there shouldn t no animil of 
 mine ever be sent that way. They 
 buse um. You promise, won t ye?" 
 
 What a piteous eagerness there was 
 in the voice ! 
 
 "I promise," said Amabel, faintly. 
 
 Then we rode on. When we had 
 turned the first corner, I ventured to 
 make a remark. 
 
 "Our fate is sealed," I said. 
 
 "Yes," responded Amabel, still more 
 faintly. 
 
 And in the silence that followed the 
 kitten mewed. 
 
 "We might as well turn back. 
 Better never see Provincetown than to 
 go like this. Shall we go home?" 
 
 "Do you want to meet Albert?" 
 
 No, I knew I didn t want to meet 
 Albert; nor his father, nor the house 
 keeper who had thrown old shoes at us 
 but one brief hour ago. 
 45
 
 SAND N f BUSHES 
 
 "There s one thing you have not 
 promised not to do," I resumed, more 
 cheerfully. 
 
 "What is that? I ve already prom 
 ised enough to curse me." 
 
 Amabel spoke with excessive bitter 
 ness. 
 
 "You haven t promised not to drown 
 that kitten." 
 
 "No; but I couldn t drown a kitten 
 to save my life. Besides, Sister Sarah 
 Ramsey will be notified that this crea 
 ture is on the way, and oh, I wish I 
 had never been born ! 
 
 The kitten continued to mew. We 
 urged our horses to a gallop, and pres 
 ently we turned a corner into a long 
 road that stretched away among the 
 fields and pine trees, and across which 
 birds flew, and sometimes a keen, alert 
 squirrel darted from one side to the 
 other. It was a lovely road, and went 
 straight on, as if it might at last really 
 reach the blue sky that came down, far 
 away, to meet it. 
 
 46
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 My horse had gone a little in 
 advance. There was no disputing the 
 fact that The Thane had a fine, easy 
 gallop, and was superior to Amabel s 
 horse. I was complacently thinking 
 thus and becoming soothed by the 
 sweet air and that blue sky toward 
 which we were riding, when Amabel 
 hastily called my name. 
 
 She was a short distance behind. 
 Something was dangling and jumping 
 by her horse s knees. It is superfluous 
 to state that it was the kitten. Persons 
 who have never had the advantage of 
 knowing what a shorts bag is may 
 require a brief description of that 
 article. The bran called shorts in our 
 part of New England may, I suppose, 
 be put up in other receptacles, but it is 
 not. The bags are of very light, 
 coarse texture, fully a yard long and of 
 about the same width. There is plenty 
 of room in a shorts bag for a kitten to 
 disport itself, and bring agony to the 
 heart of its guardian. This kitten was 
 47
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 now bringing agony to Amabel s heart. 
 It was still in the bag, but the part of 
 the bag which held the kitten had 
 slipped down, and, as I have stated, 
 was swinging back and forth by the 
 horse s knees. But the top of the bag 
 was shut and fastened to the pommel 
 of Amabel s saddle. 
 
 "What do you want me to do?" I 
 asked. 
 
 "I don t know. Sit and look at me, 
 perhaps," was the response. 
 
 I didn t like to dismount. It is easy 
 to get down, as we all know, but diffi 
 cult to get up, and I did not approve of 
 the tone of Amabel s reply to my 
 inquiry. 
 
 "That kitten has too much latitude," 
 I said. 
 
 "I don t know about her having too 
 much latitude she has too many 
 claws. There! Isn t she trying to 
 climb up my horse s leg?" 
 
 "Why don t you pull the bag up?" 
 
 "I have, and she sticks her claws 
 48
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 right in. My horse is an angel or he 
 wouldn t bear it." 
 
 At this moment the animal ceased to 
 bear it in calmness. Probably it was 
 at this moment that he really felt the 
 sting of those sharp claws. He reared 
 and snorted. 
 
 "Can you stick to the saddle?" I 
 cried. 
 
 "I don t know I ll try." 
 
 The horse reared again. 
 
 "Drop it! Drop it!" I cried. I 
 knew that my friend was a good rider, 
 but I didn t know just what she needed 
 to throw her off. 
 
 "Drop what?" she cried. 
 
 "Why, the cat." 
 
 "I can t, I tell you!" 
 
 "Can t? Why not?" 
 
 "Besides, the horse might step on 
 it." 
 
 Another rear. Great cries and 
 scramblings from the bag. 
 
 I made a grab at the reins, but of 
 course I missed them. 
 
 49
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "You may have to choose between 
 your own life and the cat," I said. 
 
 The horse stood quiet a moment ; the 
 bag hung motionless; it looked per 
 fectly innocent, so innocent, in fact, 
 that one might have thought it was a 
 bag, and nothing more. 
 
 "Now, drop the thing," I pleaded 
 again. 
 
 Amabel was fumbling with the 
 string, which was really a small rope. 
 
 "She s tied it somehow to the iron 
 underneath," she announced, despond 
 ently. 
 
 And it was true. Amabel s saddle 
 was a little shabby, and some of the 
 leather was worn away so that Aunt 
 Ma ly had passed the rope through and 
 tied it in a thorough-going "square 
 knot," instead of putting a loop on the 
 horn. 
 
 I hurriedly took my satchel from 
 behind me. I was in search of a pen 
 knife. A man would have had one in 
 his pocket. Just as I had snapped
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 open the satchel Amabel s horse bolted. 
 Even at such a time I could admire my 
 friend s seat and the way in which she 
 swayed to the motion. The bag swung 
 violently. I spurred after. In a few 
 moments I became certain that the bag 
 wasn t swinging. This was a dreadful 
 knowledge. The kitten was clinging 
 with its claws to the horse s chest, 
 and that was why the bag didn t swing. 
 
 I fear that I am harrowing the dear 
 reader. And why should I dwell upon 
 this episode when I may as well say 
 directly that no hero came to the res 
 cue; no, not even a commonplace man? 
 
 All at once the horse stopped, and 
 got down on its knees. It was going 
 to roll; and who can blame him? 
 
 Amabel slipped off the saddle, but 
 kept hold of the bridle. I will say for 
 her that she is a person of quick wit 
 and ready resource. She took hold 
 close to the bit, and she was so firm 
 about it that the horse changed his 
 mind and did not roll. 
 5i
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I rode up and dismounted. It be 
 came my duty to remove the cat in the 
 bag. I did remove it, and held it in 
 my arms, but the rope and the knot 
 still clung to the saddle iron. 
 
 We stood in the road speechless. We 
 were only some five miles from home, 
 but it seemed as if we were in a strange 
 country, and in the midst of wild 
 adventures. 
 
 A horse, dragging a load of wood, 
 walked slowly out from a cart-path a 
 little ways behind us. It came plod 
 ding forward, its large ears drooping 
 apart, its big feet looking as if feeling 
 the way with each step. After a 
 moment a man s legs in brown overalls 
 were visible behind the load. These 
 legs came steadily on, as if they 
 were nothing but legs, and had chosen 
 to take a walk behind a load of 
 wood. 
 
 "I wish we could get away before 
 that man comes, said Amabel. 
 
 "I wish we could, for I think 
 52
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 those are Cyrus Green s legs," I re 
 sponded. 
 
 "Yes," from Amabel, despondently, 
 "I thought it was Cyrus Green s white 
 horse. As if it were not enough that 
 we should be here like this, but that 
 that old gossip should see us." 
 
 "Let us mount and fly." 
 
 "You know we can t mount without 
 leading our horses to stumps or fences 
 and then clambering on that is be 
 cause we wear skirts and sit on side 
 saddles. I m going to reform." 
 
 Afterward, when it was too late, I 
 remembered Amabel s threat in regard 
 to reformation. 
 
 Cyrus Green now came forward and 
 walked by his front nigh wheel. He 
 had seen us, and he flourished his whip 
 and said, "Huddup!" 
 
 I could see his bleared old eyes shine 
 with interest. He licked his lips as he 
 stepped up to us, while his horse 
 sagged back against the harness, glad 
 to wait. 
 
 53
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "What? Why! I say! Oh, it s you 
 two women, ain t it?" he began. 
 "Had no accident?" 
 
 He seemed to be hunting for an 
 accident as a dog noses for a bone 
 which he smells, but cannot see. 
 
 "No," said Amabel. 
 
 "Ain t? Why, how s this, eh? 
 What ye both off for?" 
 
 "We got off." 
 
 "Oh, what? Ain t either of ye hurt 
 none?" 
 
 "No." 
 
 His eyes traveled carefully over 
 us. 
 
 "What ye got in that bag?" 
 
 "A cat." 
 
 "A cat? Mercy sake! But women 
 will do the queerest things!" He 
 licked his lips again. 
 
 "Eh? I don t believe it s a cat." 
 
 "What do you think tis?" 
 
 "Eh? I don t know, I m sure. 
 Whose cat is it?" 
 
 "It was Mahala Bacon s." 
 
 54
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "What? That s so? Whose is it 
 now?" 
 
 "It s going to be Sarah Ram 
 sey s." 
 
 Cyrus Green rubbed his hard, pitch 
 blackened hands together. He laughed 
 for there was the sound of a laugh 
 though there was little change in his 
 countenance. But his countenance 
 was not formed to express emotion. I 
 suppose, however, that curiosity may 
 be classed as an emotion. 
 
 "Sarah Ramsey? Why, she s the 
 one that married a Portugee, n lives 
 on the Cape, ain t she?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "I remember. Folks talked bout 
 her wantin to marry an outlandish 
 critter. But they say he makes a good 
 husband. Goes coddin to the Banks. 
 Off month after month. First-rate 
 husband he makes." 
 
 Mr. Green seemed disposed toward 
 conversation ; and he evidently thought 
 that, to be off month after month 
 55
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 coddin was part of the making of a 
 good husband. 
 
 "Be them your horses?" he now 
 inquired.
 
 Ill 
 
 THE GIRL WITH A SPINE 
 
 Mr. Cyrus Green approached The 
 Thane and punched his chest. The 
 Thane promptly nipped at Mr. Cyrus 
 Green. The latter sprang back and 
 remarked that The Thane was "a pesky 
 thing." 
 
 Then he went and punched Amabel s 
 horse, and he kicked out a hind foot. 
 
 "Be they your n?" he repeated, for 
 no one had replied to his first question. 
 
 "Yes, sir," responded Amabel, in a 
 formal manner. 
 
 "Eh? What? You don t mean to 
 say that you went and bought them 
 critters?" 
 
 "Yes, sir." 
 
 "Where d you git urn?" 
 
 "Boston." 
 
 57
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "D you pick um oiit?" 
 
 Amabel faced about more fully to 
 ward her interlocutor. There was a 
 flash in her eye. 
 
 "Did you pick your horse out, Mr. 
 Green?" she asked. 
 
 Mr. Green shrank a little. 
 
 "I? Eh? What say?" in some em 
 barrassment. 
 
 Amabel repeated her question, thus 
 carrying the war into the enemy s 
 camp. 
 
 Cyrus rubbed his face. 
 
 "My hoss," he said, "b longed to my 
 wife s father, n when he died twas 
 part of her share." He turned to look 
 at the animal. " Tain t no great 
 trotter, but it s a good hauler." 
 
 I was now holding the kitten. I re 
 marked in a cheerful and careless man 
 ner that I would carry the cat for a 
 little while; and I guessed we d better 
 be going. It did not seem profitable to 
 stay and talk with Cyrus Green. 
 
 But to say we would go and to go 
 
 58
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 were two very different things. We 
 looked about for a fence ; but this was 
 a place where there were no fences. 
 
 "How do ye git up on to the crit 
 ters?" inquired Cyrus. He rubbed his 
 hands together again, and they made a 
 crackling sound as he did so. "D you 
 say you got um in Boston? D you pay 
 much for um?" 
 
 "We re going to mount," said Ama 
 bel, "from the hub of the hind wheel 
 of your cart. Do you think your horse 
 will stand still?" 
 
 "Stand still? You bet!" Again 
 there was the sound as if some one 
 were laughing. 
 
 Without any delay my friend led her 
 horse to the wheel. I promptly ad 
 vanced and held the bridle with one 
 hand, while I pressed the kitten to me 
 with the other. Cyrus Green watched 
 us closely. I saw him run his tongue 
 out over his lips. As I saw him dp this 
 I felt a sudden and keen pity for his 
 wife. But why should one waste pity 
 
 59
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 in that way? Who could tell that 
 Mrs. Green was not fond of seeing her 
 husband in the performance of this 
 habit? One person has different tastes 
 from another. While I but this 
 opened a large field for conjecture. 
 
 Meantime Amabel was in the saddle, 
 and I was left standing on the ground 
 with Mr. Green and the kitten. 
 
 "Perhaps Mr. Green will help you?" 
 sweetly suggested Amabel. 
 
 "Eh?" said Cyrus. 
 
 I led The Thane to the hub. Mr. 
 Green took the bridle and the shorts 
 bag. 
 
 "I guess you ll be consid able busy if 
 you re goin to travel this kind of a 
 way," he remarked. "It beats all 
 natur how you c n want to do it. But 
 women are notional. Marthy, she s 
 notional herself. There, be you on? 
 You be? Where sh ll I put this cat? 
 By the Old Harry! You two ve got 
 good grit." 
 
 "Thank you, Mr. Green." This, as 
 60
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I took the cat, which seemed for the 
 instant to be in a quiescent state. 
 
 "You re welcome. Tain t no 
 trouble for me to hold that bag a min 
 ute." He stepped back a little. 
 "What d you say you paid for them 
 hosses?" 
 
 "We didn t say; it s a secret," said 
 Amabel. 
 
 And then, being now able to depart, 
 we departed. 
 
 And I held the cat. 
 
 Having proceeded thus far with these 
 pages, I see plainly that I am in great 
 danger of saying too much about Aunt 
 Ma ly s kitten that we were taking to 
 sister Sarah Ramsey. In point of fact, 
 I have a desire to write almost ex 
 clusively of it, just as, in the midst of 
 fine scenes, if there be a pin sticking 
 into the flesh we are thinking of the 
 pin more than of that castle on the 
 Rhine, the sight of which we had 
 thought would give us ecstasies of 
 pleasure. I wish to record here that I 
 61
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 am only going to speak of the cat when 
 I positively cannot help it. And it 
 may get lost, though it cannot lose 
 itself very far, tied in that bag; and 
 it may die, though cats do not often 
 die. 
 
 Still they are mortal, for Amabel 
 avers that she had seen a dead cat. 
 
 The road continued lonely for sev 
 eral miles. We had entered upon a 
 farming country, and there were 
 stretches of ploughed land where corn 
 and potatoes were springing up. It 
 was early summer. Sometimes there 
 were men holding plough handles, and 
 staggering along in the furrow behind 
 a horse that walked solemnly ahead, 
 turning in response to hoarse shouts. 
 
 Always these men called out 
 "Whoa!" and the horses stood still 
 while their owners gazed raptly at us. 
 We heard one man call to another who 
 was hoeing at a distance : 
 
 "Who be they?" 
 
 "Dunno. Two fool women. " 
 62
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Then the hoe was plied again, and 
 the plough moved on. 
 
 The sun that shone on these fool 
 women was very bright, and the air 
 that blew on them was very sweet. It 
 was now, when we had left Cyrus 
 Green behind, and there was no village 
 in sight, that we began to feel a little 
 as we had believed that we should feel 
 if we were once riding forth into the 
 wide world. 
 
 It is well to be in a boat that slides 
 over the water, the wind filling the 
 sails and the foam rushing by the keel, 
 "the blue above and the blue below." 
 It is also well to be in the saddle, to 
 hold the bridle rein, to know that the 
 sentient creature which carries you is 
 entirely your own, subject to your will. 
 You are not only a human being. You 
 are equine as well. Two natures give 
 you sensations. 
 
 Yes, we had a pleasant gallop down 
 that lonely road, and the occupants of 
 the two or three carriages we met did 
 
 63
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 not look upon us as if they saw de 
 formed creatures disporting themselves 
 in a strange way. 
 
 We saw no bicycles until we turned 
 on to a fine, wide highway, a strip of 
 State road that had been macadamized, 
 and that consequently was dear to the 
 heart of the wheelman. Here we 
 began to feel old-fashioned, for here 
 the wheels were coming and going, and 
 young men in sweaters and long wool 
 stockings, lying down with the stomach 
 well over the steering bar, rolled up 
 their eyes pityingly at us who were sit 
 ting upright, and who were not pedal 
 ing for dear life. 
 
 It was only a transient, strained 
 glance that they could give us from 
 crimson, sweat-grimed faces. They 
 looked as if they were undergoing some 
 kind of torture, but I knew that really 
 they were happy, and were pitying us. 
 So we exchanged pity. 
 
 Under a pine tree there was a pump 
 and a trough of water. Also under 
 64
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 this tree there leaned two bicycles and 
 near them sat two girls. They wore 
 dust-gray short skirts and knickers, 
 their hats were on the ground beside 
 them. Their faces were red; but a 
 red face, even in a girl, is not an 
 infallible sign of unhappiness. 
 
 Our horses walked up to the trough 
 and put their noses in, drinking a lit 
 tle, and then splashing their lips about 
 in a sort of luxury. The sun was 
 hot by this time. The girls were eat 
 ing doughnuts and oranges. We two 
 looked at those two, and we all smiled. 
 Then one of them approached with a 
 folding cup in her hand. She paused 
 at Amabel s side and asked: 
 
 "Won t you have a drink yourself? 
 You look so red and tired. " 
 
 "Thank you," said Amabel, "I am 
 thirsty. And," she added, smiling, 
 "we were just pitying you and your 
 friend for looking so red and tired." 
 
 She took the cup and drank. 
 
 "It must be awful to be bounced up 
 65
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 and down like that," said the girl, as 
 she brought me a cup of water. 
 
 "Oh, but," said Amabel, as I 
 drank, "we can keep our legs still. 
 And we don t intend to bounce 
 much." 
 
 "You can t help it," remarked the 
 girl who had not spoken, and who now 
 rose and came forward. She had a 
 half-eaten doughnut in one brown 
 hand. The other hand she put on The 
 Thane s mane, combing it with her 
 fingers. 
 
 "You ve got to bounce more or less. 
 Just awfully unhealthy. I would not 
 ride horseback for a thousand dollars. 
 I should have a weak spine again. I m 
 wheeling partly for my spine now. 
 Come into the country for my spine. 
 Learned to row for my spine; but I 
 don t row now, I m biking it can t do 
 everything; got to have some time to 
 sleep. Why, for more than a year 
 I ve just lived for my spine. What do 
 you live for?" glancing up in an appar- 
 66
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 ently incidental way at me as she put 
 the question. 
 
 "I? Oh," just now I m living for a 
 kitten. We must live for something, 
 you know. 
 
 "A kitten? Oh, ain t that funny? 
 Sue, do you hear that? Where is it?" 
 
 The speaker flung away the fragment 
 of doughnut and clapped her hands. 
 
 I held out the bag. 
 
 "In here," I answered. 
 
 Please let me see it ! I adore kit 
 tens. I think they re too cunning to 
 live. Do let me see it!" 
 
 I allowed her to take the bag. 
 
 "Be careful. Don t let it get away. 
 We re carrying it to Provincetown to a 
 woman who hasn t walked a step for 
 five years." 
 
 "To Provincetown? Ain t that 
 funny? Oh, Sue, just look here! 
 Ain t it cunning? Oh! Is there an 
 other doughnut? Oh, there must be 
 another one ! I want to feed it. Just 
 look at its little cunning nose! Oh, 
 
 67
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 see its nose, Sue Cummings! Did you 
 ever? Where is that doughnut? There 
 was one left, wasn t there? See it eat! 
 Why, it s starved!" with a look at us. 
 
 "Don t charge us with starving it," 
 responded Amabel, with some asperity, 
 "for we ve not had it more than three 
 hours. 
 
 "Oh, but ain t it hungry? See it eat, 
 Sue Cummings ! Oh, you little teenty, 
 tonty angel, you! I m just a good 
 mind to squeeze you to death. How 
 would you like being squeezed to 
 death, you darling love?" 
 
 A shrill, remonstrant mew, a little 
 struggle, a sharp claw on a girl s 
 cheek, and Aunt Ma ly s kitten was 
 leaping up the slope away from the 
 road, and was immediately out of sight 
 among the bayberry and sweet fern. 
 
 It was but a breath of time before 
 four women were in pursuit. I stopped 
 to fasten our horses. Because the cat 
 had run away seemed no reason why 
 we should lose our horses also. And 
 
 68
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 shall I confess to a wild and glorious 
 feeling of relief? My heart must be 
 desperately wicked. 
 
 Nevertheless, four women did what 
 four women could do toward recaptur 
 ing that kitten. The truth is, we 
 couldn t catch even a glimpse of her. 
 To this day we have never seen her 
 again. We do not know whether the 
 earth swallowed her, or the heavens 
 took her. 
 
 At last we returned to the pine tree 
 and the pump and the trough of water. 
 On the way Sue and her companion 
 expressed a hope that their wheels 
 hadn t been stolen. They said that 
 there were persons who lived only to 
 steal bicycles, and that such persons 
 frequented these stretches of macad 
 amized road. 
 
 But when we drew near we saw that 
 there were the wheels and there were 
 the horses. Also there was a man sit 
 ting in the shade of the pine, and there 
 was a fresh wheel of a vermilion color 
 69
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 drawn up, if I may use that phrase, 
 against the pump. 
 
 The young man rose as we ap 
 proached. He took off his cap and said 
 that he hoped that it wasn t a private 
 picnic ground. 
 
 "Oh, no," replied the girl who 
 wasn t Sue, "we thought it was the 
 king s highway. 
 
 There was perceptible in her tone 
 and manner that indefinable brighten 
 ing which is so marked in some girls 
 when a young man appears upon the 
 scene. 
 
 "That s what I thought," was the 
 response. 
 
 The speaker resumed his hat. "And 
 since we agree, I ll stay here. My 
 wheel is tired." 
 
 He sat down again, this time at the 
 extremest verge of the shadow cast by 
 the pine tree. He drew a small, 
 square volume from his pocket and 
 appeared to become entirely immersed 
 in it. 
 
 70
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 We stood around the pump and drank 
 again. 
 
 "I m awfully sorry I never was so 
 sorry in my life. I shan t sleep a wink 
 to-night. I can feel it in my spine 
 now," asserted the girl. 
 
 We didn t exactly know what she felt 
 in her spine, but it made no difference. 
 
 Oh, Sue ! Who d have thought that 
 kitten would have done such a thing? 
 And I was holding on just as tight ! 
 
 She turned to Amabel and con 
 tinued: 
 
 "I can t tell you how awfully sorry I 
 am. And it seems as if I was to 
 blame; when I really wasn t to blame 
 the least bit in the wide world. 
 
 She put her hand up to her cheek, 
 where was a long scratch from which 
 had oozed a few drops of blood, now 
 mingled with dust and perspiration. 
 
 "Which way are you ladies going?" 
 now asked Sue. 
 
 "We mean to sleep at Middlebor- 
 ough to-night, answered Amabel.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, Sue, ain t that funny!" cried 
 the other. "That s where we are 
 going. That s where we live at least, 
 in the summer. Oh, I declare, that s 
 too funny for anything. And now we 
 can keep along together; and when 
 we get there I can find you another 
 kitten 
 
 "Not another!" interjected Amabel, 
 with a dramatic start backward. 
 
 "Oh, yes; don t you be discouraged. 
 I know of one just about this size, 
 only it s all black; it s awful good luck 
 to have a black cat, and you can put it 
 right in the same bag and oh! oh!" 
 clapping her hand again to her face, 
 and veering off as to the subject of her 
 conversation, "I shall look just like a 
 fright with this scratch for heaven 
 knows how long; and there s the lawn 
 party at General Jones s to-morrow 
 evening. Sue, do you think you can 
 paint it over?" 
 
 "Paint what over?" from Sue, who 
 had taken from her little bag of kit a 
 72
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 little monkey wrench and was now 
 tightening a little nut on her wheel. 
 
 "Oh, how stupid you are, Sue Cum- 
 mings! And you re always doing 
 something with that monkey wrench. 
 Now you re about it, do please look at 
 my machine. I thought there was the 
 leastest bit of a tinkle somewhere in 
 front. I hate a tinkle when I m on the 
 road. Don t you hate a tinkle when 
 you re on the road?" to Amabel; but 
 waiting for no reply the girl went on. 
 "When that horrid, nasty kitten 
 scratched me I never thought about 
 the lawn party. Don t you think you 
 can paint it, Sue?" 
 
 The person addressed answered in 
 differently that she did not know, she 
 was sure ; and went on with her wrench. 
 
 There was a slight rustle at the edge 
 of the shade where the young man sat 
 studiously with his book. The rustle 
 was caused by the flutter of the leaves 
 of his volume, which he now closed. 
 He rose and spoke. 
 
 73
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I hope you ll pardon me, ladies," 
 he said. Though he said ladies he 
 looked at the girl who had lost Aunt 
 Ma ly s kitten. 
 
 He hesitated. It struck me that he 
 wished to appear shy, but that he did 
 not feel shy in the slightest. There 
 was a curious twinkle in his eyes. 
 
 We all gazed at him in silence. 
 
 "The scratch, you know, Miss 
 Miss 
 
 "Langthorne," from the girl, who 
 sparkled her whole face at the young 
 man. Amabel afterward said that she 
 hated to see a girl sparkle her face like 
 that at a man. 
 
 "Miss Langthorne, the scratch can 
 be entirely hidden. It is too bad that 
 a countenance like like yours," in 
 great apparent confusion, but with a 
 very efficient eye-beam, "should be dis 
 figured if you wish to attend a party." 
 
 He was so diffident, and yet so 
 earnest. 
 
 "Oh, how kind!" exclaimed Miss 
 74
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Langthorne, effusively. "Sue, do you 
 hear how kind Mr. Mr. " 
 
 "Riddle Thomas J. Riddle," in a 
 low voice. 
 
 It was noticeable that this gentle 
 man s voice, though low, was singularly 
 clear and had a remarkable carrying 
 power. 
 
 "How kind Mr. Riddle is! Oh, 
 you re just too kind for anything, I m 
 sure, Mr. Riddle. But I wouldn t 
 think of troubling you; I couldn t 
 think of it for a single instant. I m 
 ever so much obliged to you, though. 
 Sue, don t you think we ought to be 
 going?" 
 
 Miss Cummings had placed her 
 monkey wrench in the tiny leather bag 
 that was fastened back of the bicycle 
 saddle, and she was now strapping the 
 bag. She responded in a matter-of- 
 fact way that she was ready. 
 
 Mr. Riddle, Thomas J. Riddle, 
 stepped back a pace, not as one who is 
 defeated, but as one who waits. 
 75
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Miss Langthorne walked a short 
 distance toward her wheel, then she 
 returned to the pump and began to 
 move the handle up and down, holding 
 her little cup under the spout. It was 
 an unwieldy wooden pump, and Mr. 
 Riddle hastened forward. 
 
 "Allow me," he said, and the water 
 spouted forth beneath his vigorous 
 hand. 
 
 "Oh, how nice to be as strong as 
 that!" cried Miss Langthorne, as her 
 hand and arm and cup were drenched. 
 "Oh, Sue, I d give anything if I were 
 as strong as that!" 
 
 Mr. Riddle dropped the handle and 
 bowed. He was very solemn and very 
 deferential. 
 
 The two girls rolled their wheels out 
 to the road. Miss Cummings mounted 
 and began barely to move along ; Miss 
 Langthorne made as if she would 
 mount, but didn t succeed; therefore 
 Mr. Riddle darted toward her and held 
 her wheel. 
 
 76
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, how awkward I am! Sue, 
 can t you wait for me?" 
 
 Sue immediately dismounted and 
 waited. 
 
 Miss Langthorne looked up at the 
 young man who was steadying her 
 wheel. She gave a little sparkle. 
 
 "I s pose you were joking when you 
 said you could paint it out, weren t 
 you, now?" she asked. 
 
 "Indeed, no. I was speaking the 
 simple truth. Not that I should think 
 of doing it myself. I could give you 
 the preparation; you or your friend 
 could apply it. 
 
 "Oh, Sue! Do you hear Mr. Rid 
 dle? He says you could apply it. How 
 nice!" 
 
 "Apply what?" 
 
 It began to appear that Miss Sue 
 Cummings did not always listen to her 
 companion s prattle. 
 
 "Oh, stupid! Why, fix my face so I 
 shan t be a fright at General Jones s. 
 I don t care one bit" to Mr. Riddle 
 
 77
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "how brown I am, nor how brown my 
 hands are" she held out her hands 
 and wriggled her fingers. "I think it s 
 just as lovely as it can be to get to be 
 the color of an Indian, don t you know? 
 It shows you re an outdoor girl, you 
 see." 
 
 "It wouldn t show I was an outdoor 
 girl, responded Mr. Riddle, without a 
 smile. 
 
 Miss Langthorne laughed. 
 
 "Oh, ain t you funny!" 
 
 She examined the young man s face 
 for an instant, in what seemed an en 
 tirely impersonal way. Then she 
 cried : 
 
 "You re brown as a hazelnut your 
 self. Now I really must go." 
 
 "Which way are you going?" 
 
 To Middleborough. 
 
 "So am I ; to some lakes near there. 
 
 "Is that so?" 
 
 Mr. Riddle bowed assent. 
 
 "How funny!" 
 
 "You don t think there d be any 
 78
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 harm, Miss Langthorne, do you, if I 
 should keep you two ladies in sight?" 
 
 "Oh, Sue, do you think there d be 
 any harm if Mr. Riddle should keep us 
 in sight? He s going to Middlebor- 
 ough, you know. We re quite a party, 
 aren t we?" She glanced at us. 
 
 "Mr. Riddle will go faster than we 
 shall; men always ride faster than 
 women," replied Miss Cummings. 
 
 "Yes; so they do. Oh, Mr. Riddle, 
 we couldn t think of inconveniencing 
 you." 
 
 "You don t forbid me, then?" 
 
 "N no; I don t forbid you." 
 
 Whereupon the two girls mounted 
 again and spun down the road. 
 
 Mr. Riddle leisurely took his wheel 
 from its resting place. But he stopped 
 to drink some water from his own cup. 
 First he offered to bring us a drink, but 
 we declined. We were sitting com 
 fortably on the dry pine needles under 
 the tree. There were reasons why we 
 preferred to make our start without 
 
 79
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 spectators. And we had been some 
 what interested in the little comedy 
 talk, though a very little more of Miss 
 Langthorne would have become a 
 weariness. 
 
 As he again turned to his wheel Mr. 
 Riddle allowed an expression to come 
 to the corners of his mouth. It was 
 an extremely slight expression, and 
 was directly banished, but. we had 
 seen it. 
 
 Presently he also wheeled away, hav 
 ing lifted his hat to us with great 
 gravity. He held himself erect, and 
 slid over the ground gracefully. 
 
 Amabel and I remained . for a few 
 moments longer. The pine gave forth 
 an agreeable odor; the country stretch 
 ing before us was pleasant with this 
 sunlight upon it. There was a farm 
 house with one or more barns, here and 
 there, but not too near. We liked to 
 see the crows come down into the fields 
 of new corn. It was an interesting 
 sight to watch two or three crows 
 80
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 advance somberly up between the 
 young rows. They didn t care at all 
 for that pole with a cross-piece on it 
 where dangled an old coat. They 
 knew it was only an old coat. 
 
 One, and then another, would stoop, 
 twitch up a stalk, pull off the swollen 
 kernels of corn, swallow them, and 
 then go on to the next. And what a 
 curious mingling of business and 
 grotesque solemnity there is in a crow s 
 walk! Once a hound came racing 
 through the cornfield. The crows flew 
 up, cawing, but they alighted on a 
 low savin, and hardly waited until the 
 dog had leaped the wall before they 
 went back and began to pull up the 
 corn again. 
 
 Suddenly a shot rang out so close to 
 us that we jumped to our feet. The 
 crows flew but one wavered, struggled 
 to move its wings again, then fell 
 among the corn. 
 
 A tall boy in jumper and overalls 
 rose from behind a rock at our right. 
 81
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 A smoking gun rested in the curve of 
 his arm as he walked towards us. 
 
 "Thunderin old things!" he cried. 
 "It s too hard work to plant n hoe 
 corn for those crows to eat. I guess 
 they ll keep away now for one while. 
 
 He spoke exultantly. He was a 
 handsome fellow, with those keen, 
 intellectual gray eyes which are often 
 seen in the faces of New England boys. 
 The chances are always that the world 
 will hear from the owners of such eyes. 
 He looked straight at us, without bold 
 ness and without shyness. 
 
 "They ll forget that you killed one," 
 said Amabel. 
 
 "No, they won t. I sh ll hang that 
 dead crow on a pole. They ll see him. 
 They re a bright lot. I ve often 
 wished I was as bright as a crow. 
 Are those your horses?" The boy s 
 eyes turned toward the animals tied 
 down near the pump. 
 
 82
 
 IV 
 
 THE COMPACT OF THE WATERING 
 TROUGH 
 
 By this time we had begun to won 
 der at the great interest displayed 
 when we were asked "if those were our 
 horses. 
 
 Was it so very remarkable that they 
 should be our horses? 
 
 "Yes," said Amabel, shortly. The 
 boy turned away; he was certainly 
 laughing. 
 
 He walked off down into the corn 
 field, and we saw him hunting for the 
 crow he had just shot. Neither of us 
 wished to repose any longer by the 
 wayside. We looked up and down the 
 road, and at a time when there was no 
 one in sight we mounted from the edge 
 of the watering trough. But the edge 
 83
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 of a watering trough is not a place that 
 can be recommended for such a pur 
 pose, particularly when the trough is 
 not quite steady and insists upon tip 
 ping. 
 
 It was at this time that Amabel and 
 I made an agreement which, to distin 
 guish it from other agreements, we 
 always referred to as "the compact of 
 the watering trough. 
 
 It was to the effect that we would 
 scrupulously take turns as to who 
 should mount first, for the one who 
 first climbed to the saddle could have 
 the other hold her horse during the 
 process. And there is a great deal in 
 that. 
 
 We hoped that, as we proceeded on 
 our journey, we should become more 
 and more resigned, or more and more 
 skillful as regards the preliminaries to 
 resuming our travels after a halt. We 
 hoped, but we did not expect. 
 
 It was I who held Amabel s horse 
 well alongside the trough. Therefore
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 it will be seen that it would be my 
 friend s turn the next time. 
 
 The Thane is an animal who frets to 
 go when you want him to stand still 
 not that he desired so much to go, either. 
 
 On this occasion, when I led him to 
 the proper position alongside the 
 decaying and uncertain edge of the 
 trough top, he insisted upon sheering 
 away for the distance of about three 
 feet. He did this sheering while I was 
 stepping upon the trough. Once, in 
 making a snatch at his bridle, I unin 
 tentionally put one foot down into the 
 trough. There was only a little water 
 in the bottom, however, for the thing 
 leaked like a sieve. 
 
 The Thane watched me scramble 
 with an interested benignity upon his 
 face. As soon as he was entirely out 
 of position, so that I could not possibly 
 get on his back, he was perfectly quiet. 
 
 Amabel dared not come near enough 
 even to attempt to be of service, for, 
 notwithstanding that tale that was told 
 85
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 us that these horses had lived together, 
 they always bit and kicked if brought 
 too near each other. Still there are 
 human beings who snap and scold, but 
 who yet abide with each other. 
 
 Therefore my friend sat her horse at 
 two rods distance and watched me. 
 
 Now, when you are trying to bring 
 an animal up alongside an unsteady 
 watering trough so that you may mount 
 from its edge, it is not calming to be 
 watched. It is better at such times to 
 be in entire solitude. 
 
 Again I stood on the trough edge, 
 and again The Thane sidled off at just 
 the instant that prevented me from 
 landing in the saddle. Then he re 
 mained motionless, looking at me. 
 This time I didn t go into the trough; 
 I brought the trough down to the 
 ground, myself with it. The sides 
 came apart in fact, there was no more 
 trough. The green slime that had 
 been in the bottom of it crept along 
 the ground. If I had not felt so hur- 
 86
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 ried I am positive that I could have 
 written a decadent poem on the subject 
 of that green slime. 
 
 "Oh, dear!" cried Amabel, "shall I 
 get off?" 
 
 "No," I snapped; "isn t it enough 
 for me to be off, with no prospect of 
 getting on?" 
 
 "Don t lose your temper," she re 
 sponded. I wonder why it is that 
 there is nothing more maddening than 
 to be told not to lose your temper. I 
 lost mine, and I said things. But 
 Amabel has apologized, and I have 
 forgiven her. 
 
 Just now she remarked that she 
 would like to know what town we were 
 in, for she supposed that I was respon 
 sible for that watering trough. 
 
 Somebody shouted from the cornfield. 
 The boy who had shot the crow came 
 running toward us. He walked up to 
 The Thane s head and took hold of the 
 bridle with that air of authority which 
 some male human beings can put forth, 
 87
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 and which goes so far toward making 
 them lords of creation. 
 
 You can get on from this fence, 
 said the boy. 
 
 He led The Thane to what we call in 
 New England "a pair of bars." It 
 has always seemed as if a pair of posts 
 would be more appropriate. 
 
 I was obliged to climb to the top bar, 
 which was high, and from there 
 descend upon the horse s back. This 
 I did, The Thane holding himself in 
 such an exemplary manner that his 
 behavior reflected upon me, and tended 
 to make one believe that everything 
 was all my fault. 
 
 I thanked the boy just as sweetly as 
 I could; if he had not been a New 
 England boy with just that kind of 
 eyes, I should have offered him a 
 quarter, but I was saved from making 
 that mistake; though his service at 
 that moment seemed worth thousands 
 of dollars to me. 
 
 Then we rode on. The shorts bag
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 was still at what might be called my 
 saddle bow, where I had placed it, but 
 the kitten, where was she? 
 
 This was the question that I put 
 exultantly to my companion. I found 
 that Amabel was low in her mind con 
 cerning that cat. She said that I ought 
 never to have let that girl take her; 
 that but I will not put down all that 
 was said. Amabel remarked that her 
 first duty when we reached the Namas- 
 ket House would be to write to Aunt 
 Ma ly, and that she would rather be 
 killed than do it. 
 
 True to her resolution, when we 
 were in our room at the hotel, my 
 friend called for paper and envelopes. 
 She was a very long time composing 
 her epistle, but when it was done it 
 was only this : 
 
 "Dear Aunt Ma ly: I am dreadfully 
 sorry, but she s got away. We looked 
 and looked, but we couldn t find her. 
 I ll go to see your sister Sarah in 
 Provincetown, if we ever get there."
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Unknown to Amabel, I put on a 
 postscript consisting of these words : 
 
 "It is vain to regret. We did what 
 we could. We will bring back the 
 shorts bag." 
 
 This seemed something like an 
 epitaph, but I sealed the envelope 
 quickly, and the missive was posted 
 that night. I am harder hearted than 
 my friend, and I was unfeignedly 
 hilarious because we had no kitten. 
 Life seemed bright to me. I did not 
 even mind very much the assembly of 
 five boys and two small girls who care 
 fully watched our arrival and our 
 alighting at the door of the Namasket 
 House late that afternoon. Though I 
 heard one of the girls say that she 
 didn t see how that fat one ever got up 
 there, and one of the boys reply that 
 he s posed she had a teakle she rigged 
 every time, and though I knew that the 
 fat one meant me, I was still happy. 
 My friends don t call me fat; they say 
 I am just plump enough, and surely 
 90
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 one s friends know more about one 
 than a few children gathered about a 
 hotel entrance. 
 
 It was a lovely night, clear and soft, 
 and there was a moon. 
 
 We walked out to see the "objects of 
 interest," but we found nothing more 
 than a contented-looking Massachusetts 
 village with a town hall, an academy, 
 and factories of straw goods, and 
 broadcloths, and shovels, and so on. 
 But even factories with straight sides 
 and rows and rows of windows will 
 have a kind of a look when seen on a 
 summer evening with the moon shin 
 ing on them, and with the scent of roses 
 and mignonette in the air. Such 
 scents have a way of making me senti 
 mental, and I am inclined to quote 
 something from "Lucille," but Ama 
 bel doesn t like "Lucille," and scoffs 
 at it; but she needn t, for she is liable 
 to be sentimental herself. I suppose 
 we all are subject to that liability, only 
 it requires different exciting causes. 
 91
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 We had turned into a street where 
 were several large houses with piazzas, 
 and towers, and shaven lawns sloping 
 down to the road. It was here, evi 
 dently, that the owners of those shovel 
 factories and shoe shops live in a kind 
 of state, as being the most forehanded 
 people in the town. Their daughters 
 went to Wellesley, and their sons to 
 Harvard ; later they married, and then 
 used their education mainly as a 
 background upon which to project 
 references to the time "when I 
 was at Wellesley," or "when I was 
 a soph I used to be the greenest 
 thing you ever saw." But this is 
 pessimistic. 
 
 Turning a corner we came suddenly 
 upon grounds lighted by Chinese 
 lanterns, under which moved fair 
 women and brave men. Tables were 
 spread, an orchestra began to saw and 
 toot, men went about with teacups and 
 cake and icecream, serving women who 
 chattered and laughed, and uttered 
 92
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 shrill little exclamations, and rounded 
 their eyes for emphasis. 
 
 "I rather think that this is the lawn 
 party at General Jones s," remarked 
 Amabel, and even as she spoke some 
 one near exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, ain t it funny? It s you, ain t 
 it? Oh, Sue, just come here!" 
 
 It was Miss Langthorne, radiant in 
 pink silk, and chiffons, and things, that 
 went far toward giving her the sem 
 blance of an angel beneath this moon 
 and these Chinese lanterns. But per 
 haps angels do not talk like that. We do 
 not know precisely how angels do talk. 
 
 It was evidently expected of us that 
 we should pause in our walk, so we 
 paused close to the picket fence that 
 separated us from this paradise. 
 
 Miss Cummings came forward from a 
 group of men and women. She was 
 followed by a tall figure in immaculate 
 evening dress with a white rose in his 
 button-hole and an expanse of shirt 
 front that was bewildering. 
 93
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Here Amabel violently nudged me. 
 Having been nudged, I looked still 
 more closely at this tall young man, 
 and I recognized Mr. Thomas J. Riddle 
 he of the sweater and the bicycle. 
 
 "Oh, if I d only thought, I could 
 have got you two an invitation just as 
 well as not," now said Miss Lang- 
 thorne. "The General would have 
 asked you, wouldn t you, General 
 Jones? Oh, do come here a minute!" 
 beckoning with her fan to a fat man 
 with a bald head and a large, round, 
 white waistcoat. 
 
 "It s no matter," responded Amabel, 
 hurriedly, "we couldn t have come." 
 
 "Oh, yes, you could; because, you 
 see, you have come. Here, General 
 Jones, here are the ladies I was telling 
 about the kitten, you know ain t it 
 funny? Let me present you to to " 
 
 Amabel pronounced our names in a 
 distinct, cold voice that would have 
 rebuffed a person unlike this person. 
 
 General Jones put out his hand in a 
 
 94
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 cordial way, and we shook hands over 
 the fence. 
 
 "Come in, now, can t you?" he said. 
 "Come in and have a bite of cake 
 there s lots of it and icecream. 
 Ladies always like icecream. Here, 
 mother," turning toward a small 
 woman in black silk who was hovering 
 over the nearest table, "come here and 
 ask these ladies in. Lily Langthorne 
 was telling about them, you know." 
 
 The person addressed came primly 
 forward. She was younger than Gen 
 eral Jones by a good many years, and 
 was probably not his mother, but his 
 wife. 
 
 "We shall be very happy to " she 
 
 began, but Lily Langthorne broke in 
 with her shrill : 
 
 "Oh, didn t I tell you? Now come! 
 You don t know how good the coffee 
 is. Nobody knows till they ve tasted 
 it. Mr. Riddle, go, please, and bring 
 some coffee and some grub." 
 
 As the young man turned away Miss 
 95
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Langthorne leaned on the fence close 
 to me and whispered : 
 
 "You see, it s painted out." 
 
 I stared. 
 
 "Why, the scratch, you know the 
 kitten." 
 
 I didn t stay to make any response. 
 We both turned away. We expressed 
 thanks. Then we hastened; General 
 Jones s big, jovial voice called after us, 
 but we did not obey. I glanced back 
 when we reached the corner. I saw 
 Mr. Riddle standing in front of Miss 
 Langthorne with a tray. They were 
 both laughing. 
 
 We refrained from making any 
 remarks. Indeed, our silence was 
 somewhat somber. It seemed quite 
 dark after we had left the lanterns and 
 the bulbs holding electric lights that 
 hung over the tables, and quite melan 
 choly when we could not hear Miss 
 Langthorne s voice for there were 
 portions of the village where this voice 
 did not penetrate. 
 
 96
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I was wondering how Thomas J. 
 Riddle came to be at the lawn party. 
 After a time Amabel confessed that she 
 was wondering about the same thing. 
 
 Perhaps it may be as well to state 
 just here that part of the plot of this 
 narrative is this: How came Thomas J. 
 Riddle at General Jones s lawn party? 
 When this is divulged the rest of the 
 plot will be even more of a skeleton 
 than it is now. And for the benefit of 
 those who are always sniffing about for 
 love stories, there is going to be just 
 the least bit of a love story in this, just 
 enough to save it; a proposal and 
 well, either an acceptance or rejection, 
 I m not going to say which now. 
 
 When Amabel and I had reached 
 the vicinity of the hotel we began to 
 loiter again. It was really too pleasant 
 to go indoors. We sat down on some 
 chairs that were near the ladies 
 entrance. Having seated ourselves, 
 we became aware that a half-dozen 
 boys on wheels were coming up the 
 97
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 road. A lady dozing in a rocker near 
 us now roused and said that she was 
 waiting for her Charlie to come home. 
 She wanted to go to bed, but as long as 
 her Charlie was out on his bicycle she 
 couldn t sleep a wink for thinking of all 
 the bones he might break. 
 
 The next moment one figure had 
 detached itself from the wheelers and 
 came dashing up to us at a great rate. 
 
 "Whoop! whoop! whoa there, now, 
 steady!" 
 
 The rider flung himself off so near 
 Amabel that she nearly fell from her 
 chair. 
 
 Of course we had thought it was 
 Charlie, but it wasn t; it was Albert. 
 
 We rose and exclaimed. The youth 
 stood before us quite self-possessed, 
 and much pleased with the effect his 
 appearance had produced upon us. We 
 both cried: "Why, Albert!" and he 
 nodded and said, "Yours truly. " Then 
 he announced that he was hungry 
 enough to eat cold wheel grease, and
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 he inquired if the fodder was good at 
 the Namasket. Then he took his 
 wheel into the hall, and we went into 
 the dining-room and sat with him 
 until eggs and ham were fried, beef 
 steak broiled and coffee made; even 
 until he had eaten and drank we re 
 mained. 
 
 He informed us that we had been 
 fools to get horses when we could have 
 wheels ; that he had given up buying a 
 horse when he saw what critters they 
 had at Izzard s; that he had meant all 
 the time to come with us, but he knew 
 we should need a long start ahead, 
 being only on horses. And "I say, 
 Am, have you had to use the bowie- 
 knife yet? Awful convenient, ain t it? 
 I ve got a dirk best thing out. Got 
 it at that Jap store on Summer Street, 
 you know." 
 
 The youth leaned back in his chair 
 
 and stirred the spoon rapidly in his 
 
 second cup of coffee. He was not 
 
 hungry now, and was disposed to be 
 
 99
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 good natured and communicative, 
 after the manner of the human animal 
 when its appetite for food has just been 
 appeased. 
 
 "There is no reason why you 
 shouldn t carry a dirk, Albert," said 
 Amabel, judicially, "except that, being 
 on a wheel, you may fall on it the 
 dirk, I mean ; and though you are only 
 a boy, I m fond of you. " 
 
 "Pooh! So s a hen," responded 
 Albert. Then he leaned back in his 
 chair, put his right hand to his belt, 
 straightened his right leg and instantly 
 whipped out from somewhere a 
 weapon more than a foot long. This 
 he whirled in the air and then made a 
 lunge with it in a very unexpected 
 manner toward the girl who had been 
 waiting on the table, and who now 
 shrieked and laughed, but returned 
 from her retreat toward the door and 
 took the beefsteak platter, lingering 
 with it. 
 
 "Albert," said his sister, "it isn t
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 very nice of you to go round with a 
 thing like that." 
 
 "Who s afraid?" cried the boy, and 
 he lunged again, this time at a potato, 
 which he speared up on the point of his 
 weapon. 
 
 Please remember that there was no 
 one in the dining-room save ourselves 
 and the waiter girl. 
 
 Amabel left her chair and took the 
 dirk. She examined it, and then 
 announced that it was not, in her 
 opinion, a Japanese dirk, but a Chinese 
 hari-kari knife, and she believed that 
 it would bring bad luck to have it 
 along. She carefully returned the 
 potato to its place and said that she 
 should not have an instant s peace if 
 her brother continued to carry that 
 dreadful thing in his clothing. Where 
 upon Albert wrathfully snatched the 
 dirk from her and replaced it in the 
 mysterious receptacle from which he 
 had drawn it. He said that he d just 
 as lief have it a hari-kari as a dirk, and, 
 
 101
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 for his part, he wasn t going to travel 
 without something. 
 
 "Why travel?" innocently inquired 
 Amabel. 
 
 And Albert rose and slammed out of 
 the room. The waiter girl, having 
 seen and heard all, bore away the beef 
 steak platter. Then we also left the 
 room. It was ten o clock by this time. 
 A just pride prevented Amabel from 
 trying to find her brother, and we saw 
 him no more that night. If you are 
 taking a horseback trip in early sum 
 mer it is a fine plan to start betimes in 
 the morning. Then you will see the 
 robin flying back to his nest with the 
 early worm dangling from his bill ; or 
 you will see him standing erect and 
 exultant on the top rail of the fence 
 singing lustily. He has been up for 
 several hours, for the long day began 
 while you were yet asleep; still it is 
 not late. 
 
 The poets have written a good deal 
 about the glory and the freshness of
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 these first hours, and, as usual, the 
 poets are right. 
 
 I like these low New England hills, 
 where there is scanty grass, and where 
 there is a fine crop of gray moss. That 
 gray moss is good kindling; gather it 
 in midsummer and see how like dry 
 tow it flares up when a match is put to 
 it. And if above it you have artfully 
 arranged a few cones from the white 
 pine, cones from which drops of pitch 
 have oozed and hardened, then I envy 
 you as you sit by the open hearth in 
 the old house and see the flames curl 
 quickly around the cones, each drop of 
 pitch sending out its own tongue of 
 flame, the aromatic odor being strong 
 in the room. 
 
 It was such a fire on a broad old 
 hearth that I was thinking of when my 
 friend and I cantered out of Middlebor- 
 ough village and saw the unfruitful, 
 hilly pastures where the sweet fern and 
 bay-berry grew, and the savins. The 
 bits of song sparrows like to perch on the 
 103
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 top twigs of the savins and sing their 
 little hearts out to the beautiful day, or 
 that is what they seem to be doing. 
 Perhaps they care nothing for the 
 beautiful day, but it is rather pleasant 
 to think that they do. 
 
 As we rode on Amabel expressed her 
 gratitude to a kind Providence which 
 had refrained from making her a scien 
 tific person, who could see nothing in 
 nature save a continual warfare and 
 the everlasting perishing of the weak. 
 Albert, who had recovered his good 
 nature, and who still wore his dirk, 
 remarked in response that that was 
 just like a woman; a woman didn t 
 want to know the real truth; she 
 wanted things glossed over. All the 
 same, that robin snapped up a worm, 
 and everything was snapping up every 
 thing else all the time, and his pro 
 fessor said that- 
 
 " Albert, " interrupted his sister, "I 
 don t wish to hear what your professor 
 says. He, and persons like him, have 
 104 

 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 found out more things which kill other 
 things " 
 
 I don t know how long Amabel 
 would have gone on in this way had 
 not Albert asked her why she liked 
 those cunning little quails on toast, and 
 what was the use of talking like that 
 when you were doing the same thing 
 yourself all the time. 
 
 Then Amabel fell silent, and was 
 gloomy for some minutes ; and Albert 
 chuckled and was cheerful. He chose 
 to run his wheel on a narrow strip of 
 the road that had been hardened by 
 other wheels. This strip was near the 
 side, and left plenty of room for our 
 two horses, if the horses had only 
 thought so. 
 
 The Thane immediately and decid 
 edly refused to travel on the side nearest 
 to Albert; he even manifested a desire 
 to back around and kick at the wheel, 
 and when I remonstrated and tried to 
 reason with him he stood still. At my 
 urgent request my two traveling com- 
 105
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 panions went on ahead, and after a 
 short time I followed. In this way we 
 journeyed nearly the whole of the dis 
 tance from Middleborough to Monu 
 ment. I was practically in solitude, but 
 I had the benefit of the dust started by 
 Albert s wheel, and the feet of Ama 
 bel s horse; by this means I knew that 
 I was not alone. 
 
 I had plenty of time to remember 
 that "the Cape extends east from 
 Sandwich thirty-five miles, and thence 
 north and northwest thirty more, in all 
 sixty-five, and has an average breadth 
 of five miles. It is nearly all sand, 
 with bowlders dropped on it here and 
 there. " And we were not yet at Monu 
 ment. Amabel was continually stop 
 ping for me to come up, and then 
 telling me that her conscience troubled 
 her to have me behind in that way. 
 We tried again to make The Thane go 
 on the other side of Amabel s horse, 
 and so allow Amabel to ride nearest 
 the wheel, but for some unexplainable 
 1 06
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 reason from the first The Thane had 
 refused to do this. He acted as if he 
 were insulted. He planted his feet 
 with his legs slanting outward, tossed 
 his head and rolled his eyes. 
 
 This he had done almost immediately 
 after we had started from home, but 
 he had directly become amiable when 
 I had turned him to the off side. I 
 have hated to mention this concerning 
 The Thane, for he is an excellent 
 horse, and worth twice what I paid for 
 him. 
 
 I acknowledge, however, that if he 
 were not so pronounced in his char 
 acter, things would be somewhat easier 
 on this journey. But I didn t pur 
 chase him thinking to travel with a 
 wheel. 
 
 Amabel s horse likes to go beside 
 the bicycle; it will even "nicker" for 
 it when the bicycle has gone on in 
 advance, and it dislikes to turn back 
 and come toward me. Perhaps it will 
 at last decide that it will not come 
 107
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 back. In that case my ride will not be 
 in the least what I had planned. But 
 few things turn out to be what one 
 plans if that is any comfort. 
 
 We had our lunch with us, and just 
 at the edge of Monument Albert came 
 wheeling back to me to say that they 
 had selected a place to rest under some 
 trees, and that we could eat our sand 
 wiches there. We had thoughtfully 
 provided oats for our horses, Amabel 
 and I, and we had put them in the 
 shorts bag, erstwhile occupied by the 
 kitten. So we unbridled and sat us 
 down to rest under the trees, and when 
 it was time we poured in front of each 
 horse his little pile of oats, and The 
 Thane fell upon his provender as he 
 ought, and devoured it, even into the 
 very loam beneath it; but Amabel s 
 horse snorted and backed, as if oats 
 upon the ground were a fearful sight 
 not to be endured. So we took him 
 away and painfully and economically 
 scraped up the grain and put it back 
 108
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 into the shorts bag for another time. 
 And our noon resting hour was ruined 
 by the unreasonableness of Amabel s 
 horse. This was one of the times when 
 Albert did not feel moved to be useful. 
 He sat on the ground eating sand 
 wiches, while he watched us groveling 
 with the oats. All he did in the matter 
 was to remark that if we had known 
 anything we should have brought a 
 folding rubber horse manger, and he 
 proceeded to explain how such an 
 article could have been strapped on 
 behind. We made a great effort not 
 to listen to him, for if we listened we 
 felt that we should be angered and 
 forget ourselves, and then we should 
 have to repent. 
 
 Panting and red in the face we at 
 last returned to the positions we had 
 chosen to rest in. We wished that we 
 had something to read. We had called 
 at one news-room in Middleborough and 
 asked for "The Atlantic" and the last 
 Sunday Tribune, and had been told by 
 109
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 a girl with an immense false frizz on 
 her forehead that "they didn t run any 
 of them extries. What they did run 
 was what we couldn t possibly read, so 
 we bought some molasses kisses 
 "velvet kisses" was the technical name 
 and came away. We had the velvet 
 kisses in a striped paper package now 
 with us and we ate them as dessert for 
 lunch. 
 
 Meanwhile, Amabel began to worry 
 because her horse had had no dinner, 
 and a cloud came up in the west, a 
 cloud that grew purple-black and spread 
 itself rapidly over the western heavens, 
 and we became alarmed and hurriedly 
 mounted and galloped hard onward 
 toward the village of Monument, and 
 the cloud seemed to pursue us, emit 
 ting thunder and lightning from its 
 bosom. 
 
 There was, however, something in 
 spiring in that gallop, and for near a 
 quarter of an hour we kept ahead. 
 The Thane forgot for the time his
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 objection to going on the nigh side 
 of Amabel s horse, so we were mak 
 ing our escape harmoniously, three 
 abreast, along the lonely country road. 
 
 Even at such a moment I could 
 admire Albert s skill in getting over the 
 way, which was none too smooth. He 
 just threw himself down on his ma 
 chine and, as he afterward explained, 
 "raised up his muscle for all he was 
 worth." 
 
 We at last heard the rain hissing 
 behind us. It was like a wall sliding 
 along, one of those summer down 
 pours that drench one in a moment, 
 and we were drenched.
 
 V 
 
 AMABEL AS A REFORMER 
 
 It was thus that we entered Monu 
 ment, dripping, a stream running from 
 each horse. And then it stopped rain 
 ing, and the sky was blue, and the sun 
 shone, and people came to their open 
 doors and looked at us; and they 
 smiled. A person who has not been 
 out in a shower, and is perfectly dry, 
 can afford to smile at the spectacle we 
 presented. 
 
 Albert was now walking by his 
 wheel, which was, so to speak, feath 
 ered all over with wet dust. 
 
 Amabel remarked that she had never 
 known before what it was to be 
 clammy. But she made an effort to be 
 cheerful, and even went so far as to say 
 that she was not sorry she came. "In 
 113
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 fact," with increasing bravado, "I m 
 glad." Albert glanced scornfully at 
 her, as he said that so was a hen. 
 Then he glanced at a man in his shirt 
 sleeves, who was smoking in an open 
 doorway, and asked if this was Monu 
 ment. The man regarded us with im 
 mense satisfaction. He sauntered out 
 into the yard and took his pipe from 
 his mouth, grinned, and inquired if we 
 had been far. 
 
 "Middleborough," said Amabel, hur 
 riedly, fearing, as she afterwards told 
 me, that her brother would make his 
 reference to the hen. 
 
 "Got caught, didn t ye?" asked the 
 man. 
 
 "Caught?" 
 
 "Yes, in the shower." 
 
 "Yes, we did get caught. Is this 
 Monument?" 
 
 "It s Monument Beach," with a great 
 emphasis on the word Beach. "Mebby 
 you own one of them cottages down 
 there?" 
 
 114
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "No, we don t." 
 
 Amabel s teeth began to chatter. 
 Mine had begun a few moments earlier. 
 
 "What town is this, anyway?" in 
 quired Albert. 
 
 "It s Bourne." 
 
 "Isn t there any Monument?" 
 
 "This is Monument. Mebby you re 
 after Pocasset, or Cataumet, or Wenau- 
 met, or some of them?" 
 
 "No, no," despairingly from Ama 
 bel, "we were after Monument, but 
 we don t care now, all we want is to 
 get to a hotel. " 
 
 "Oh, you want a hotel? Mebby 
 you ve got cranberry bogs down 
 here?" 
 
 "No. Where is the hotel?" 
 
 "Wall, the hotels round here mostly 
 are shet. " 
 
 "What, shut up?" more despairingly. 
 
 "Ain t been opened yet, much. You 
 see, it s rather early though they be 
 open, some. Ain t no rush yet. They 
 open earlier n they used to.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Amabel disengaged a wet, sticky foot 
 from the wet, sticky slipper of her 
 stirrup; then she dismounted. I did 
 the same. 
 
 "We will walk, and lead our horses," 
 she said. "Albert, you find out where 
 there s a hotel that is open just enough 
 for us to get into it. We don t want it 
 open any more than that. And it 
 seems to me we ought never to have 
 come down here to Bourne, or Wenau- 
 met, or Cataumet, or any of these 
 places. We ought to have gone on to 
 Sandwich. 
 
 Here Amabel looked at me as if I 
 were responsible for this mistake in 
 our route. She walked on, leading her 
 horse, and I walked on leading mine. 
 It was a great relief to walk, and we 
 went faster and faster, while Albert 
 remained behind to wring some infor 
 mation from that man, if it were pos 
 sible. 
 
 The sun was now shining hotly. We 
 began to steam in its rays. We had 
 116
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 eschewed skirts long enough to inter 
 fere with walking, so that we got on 
 very well, splashing through the pud 
 dles recklessly. 
 
 A soft, southwest wind came from 
 Buzzard s Bay, bringing the delightful 
 salt odor. How the whole world glit 
 tered! How the birds sang! All at 
 once the road curved, and we saw the 
 bay shining before us, heaving with the 
 pulse of the ocean. We stopped to look. 
 
 "Has it ever occurred to you, Ama 
 bel," I began, timidly, "that perhaps, 
 just possibly, you know, we might 
 better have come down here in the 
 steam-cars, or by boat?" 
 
 "Never!" said Amabel, promptly. 
 
 "I know it is romantic to ride 
 through the country on horseback," I 
 went on, "and if only one were water 
 proof " 
 
 "Pshaw!" she interrupted. "If one 
 were never soaked one would never 
 know the joy of being dried by a sun 
 like this."
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 And I said no more. I had often 
 seen wet clothes spread on a horse 
 before a kitchen fire, and noted the 
 steam arising from them, but I had 
 never before known how clothes felt 
 under such circumstances. 
 
 "I wish," said I, by way of beguiling 
 time until Albert should rejoin us, "I 
 wish I could make some poetry. If I 
 could find a rhyme to humid, I might 
 get on finely." 
 
 "There s tumid," suggested Amabel. 
 
 But I knew that would never do; 
 and all at once I was seized with a 
 doubt as to whether there was such a 
 word as tumid. Were you ever 
 afflicted in that way? Did you ever 
 have some word suddenly seem utterly 
 preposterous, and as if it had never 
 existed some everyday little collection 
 of a few individuals of the alphabet 
 and you say it over and over to your 
 self until you begin to fear there is 
 something the matter with the brain? 
 Don t fear, however; there is nothing 
 
 118 

 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 wrong; you are simply suffering in 
 common with the other great minds of 
 the world. 
 
 Did not even Dr. Johnson, sir, re 
 trace his step to touch with his cane a 
 post that he had missed touching? 
 That small deed of the great man was 
 always of much comfort to me, because 
 sometimes I, with my inferior equip 
 ment, have gone back so that I might 
 put my right foot first in mounting a 
 flight of stairs, and there s a wooden 
 button on the cellar door in the old 
 house at home that I was often im 
 pelled to place my finger on as I went 
 by it impelled by a nebulous kind of 
 conviction that things in general 
 would go better if I did so. I wonder 
 what kind of tracks are made in the 
 brain gray matter by the forming of 
 such habits. 
 
 All this, however, has nothing to do 
 
 with the melancholy fact that we two 
 
 drenched women were leading our 
 
 horses along the wet road of this 
 
 119
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 hamlet on the shore of Buzzard s 
 Bay. 
 
 But we were fast becoming less wet. 
 Our horses were already dry; their 
 bridles were changing from an unsatis 
 factory pulpy substance to an equally 
 unsatisfactory stiff substance. 
 
 The Thane was greatly interested in 
 the view of the bay. He reared his 
 head and dilated his nostrils; for a 
 moment he presented the appearance 
 of a charger, and I was proud of him. 
 We saw, toward the water, some of the 
 gaily painted cottages belonging to the 
 summer people. There were figures 
 on a few of the piazzas. Such people 
 look as if they must be perfectly 
 happy, and it is something to give that 
 impression. The country about us was 
 not level; there were slightly rolling 
 hills in it, charming hills which now 
 sparkled gaily. 
 
 But where was Albert? And what 
 were we going to do? It would be a 
 good thing to mount now, if we had 
 120
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 given up our hope for a hotel. We 
 remembered the compact of the Water 
 ing Trough, and it was my turn to 
 hold Amabel s steed for her to mount 
 if we could find a fence. We had 
 made Albert useful in this way since 
 he had joined us; but it is astonishing 
 how a boy is never at hand when he 
 might be useful. There was a fence 
 handy. I would advise women who are 
 contemplating a horseback trip to 
 choose for their journey a country 
 abounding in fences; that is, if they 
 are not heroines and consequently can 
 not mount in a heroine-like way from 
 the ground, or if they have not men 
 accompanying them. It is of vital 
 importance to have fences. 
 
 We were not more than half a mile 
 from the settlement of Monument 
 when a cheery bell tinkled behind us 
 and Albert came rolling up. 
 
 "How d you get on?" he asked. 
 
 "No matter. Where s the hotel?" 
 
 "I guess," said Albert, with much 
 
 121
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 astuteness of manner, "that we d 
 better jog right along to Sandwich, 
 where we ought to have gone instead 
 of shying off down here." 
 
 And here the boy glanced at me as 
 Amabel had done, as if I were to 
 blame for our coming to Bourne. 
 
 "Let us jog, then," responded 
 Amabel. 
 
 And we went on. The sun had gone 
 under a floating cloud, but there was 
 sunlight ahead, covering the "gentle 
 dimplement" of the pastures, and 
 bringing out odors of sweetbrier and 
 clover. 
 
 Presently Albert began to chuckle. 
 On being looked at interrogatively, he 
 explained that he was laughing because 
 that man back there had asked him if 
 "them women owned them horses; 
 and how much had they paid for em." 
 
 "I told him," went on Albert, "that 
 you owned em, fast enough." 
 
 "What did he say then?" inquired 
 Amabel. 
 
 122
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "He didn t say a word; he laughed 
 so he couldn t." 
 
 And then the boy continued his own 
 laughter in such a way that it was 
 difficult for his companions to wear 
 the semblance of amiability. 
 
 After a time Albert informed us that 
 the man had wished to know if we 
 were circus riders. "He wanted to 
 find out," said Albert, "if you had 
 ever jumped through hoops." 
 
 "He s a fool!" cried Amabel. 
 
 "Oh, no, he ain t, not by a long 
 chalk," was the response; "he s one of 
 the brightest men I ever saw." 
 
 Then we felt to wish that Albert 
 Waldo had never joined us in our trip 
 to the Cape. 
 
 Sandwich was about ten miles away, 
 and the road was rather heavy. We 
 never knew whether it was because the 
 road was too sandy or not sandy 
 enough, or for some other reason, that 
 when we had traveled about three 
 miles from Monument Beach, in a 
 123
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 secluded spot, Amabel s horse again 
 showed unmistakable symptoms of an 
 intention to lie down. The first time 
 he had done this he had had Aunt 
 Ma ly s kitten fastened to him, but now 
 we were bewildered. He had stopped 
 suddenly and begun to paw. On this 
 occasion Amabel did not dismount so 
 skillfully ; the skirt of her gown caught 
 on the horn there was the sound of 
 rending. 
 
 I must confess that Albert behaved 
 very well now. He jumped off his 
 wheel and caught the bridle. Some 
 times Albert is a good boy. He was 
 now calm and effective. He snatched 
 the rest of the skirt form the horn ; he 
 said a short word of a good deal of 
 emphasis, but who could blame him? 
 He held the horse while Amabel looked 
 down at her skirt and shook it. 
 
 Rather unexpectedly her first remark 
 was 
 
 "Now I am convinced." 
 
 "That you d no business to go to an 
 124
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 auction and buy a horse?" responded 
 Albert, quickly. 
 
 "No, indeed!" rather sharply. 
 "Nothing of the sort. My horse is a 
 fine animal. I got him dirt cheap. 
 He is worth three times as much as I 
 paid for him." 
 
 Then Albert said, "So s a hen," and 
 the conversation languished. We all 
 moved on slowly, Amabel holding up 
 the cloth that had been rent from its 
 fastening to the waist; Albert having 
 one hand on the bridle and the other 
 propelling his wheel; I sitting in my 
 saddle trying to control my thoughts. 
 I had a lurking fear of what my friend 
 had in mind. At last I asked her what 
 she had meant by saying that she was 
 convinced. 
 
 "I should think you d know," she 
 answered. "It is absurd to try to ride 
 a side-saddle; it is wicked. I m going 
 to make a change." 
 
 "What!" I cried, and Albert giggled. 
 
 I had known for a long time that my 
 125
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 friend had ideas about things, but it is 
 a very different matter to have ideas 
 and to act upon them. People don t 
 care much how many ideas you may 
 cherish, provided you behave just as if 
 you were not cherishing them. 
 
 "Yes," went on Amabel, "I m going 
 to have a cross-tree saddle. You may 
 not care if I do endanger my life every 
 hour of the day, but my life is precious 
 to me." 
 
 "I wonder," burst out Albert, "if 
 you think having a cross-tree will stop 
 this horse from wanting to roll when he 
 happens to want to just tell me that!" 
 
 "Albert," said his sister, "do you 
 remember saying that a side-saddle was 
 enough to ruin a horse s back? Tell 
 me that." 
 
 "Yes," hesitatingly, "but I guess 
 your horse s back can stand " 
 
 "Albert, you needn t go on. What 
 do you think I contribute to the Society 
 for the Prevention of Cruelty to Ani 
 mals for? What " 
 
 126
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Pooh!" broke in the boy, "you 
 needn t try to cram that stuff down my 
 neck; it s your own hide you re afraid 
 of." 
 
 "Afraid for," I corrected, in my most 
 amiable manner. "You don t believe 
 that your sister is afraid of her own 
 hide?" 
 
 "Bosh!" said Albert. "I know I 
 ain t going around the country with a 
 woman on a man s saddle." 
 
 "Nobody asked you, sir," responded 
 Amabel, and then she appeared to fall 
 into a brown study which was not 
 broken by my pinning the rent skirt 
 into position as well as I could, and 
 even after she was mounted again she 
 was silent. 
 
 I watched her anxiously, for when 
 my friend keeps silence in that way I 
 know that she is thinking of some 
 thing. Looking at her thus, furtively 
 and often, I suddenly discovered that 
 the button her father had fastened 
 upon her jacket was gone, the white 
 127
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 button with her name and address. I 
 questioned her concerning this. She 
 clapped her hand up to her lapel. 
 
 "It s lost," she exclaimed. 
 
 "No matter," said Albert, "I can 
 identify you." 
 
 But Amabel did not smile. She 
 announced that that little stretch of 
 road with the birches where her horse 
 had thought of lying down should be 
 called The Place of the Lost Button, 
 and that it should be known henceforth 
 by that name. This seemed, in a 
 manner, Biblical, and as if we might 
 presently meet a group of Arabs and ask 
 them where was the nearest well of 
 water. I began to fancy that Amabel 
 might have begun to play make- 
 believe, as she had occasionally threat 
 ened to do. Anything, I thought, to 
 get her mind from that cross-tree 
 saddle. 
 
 We all pricked forward toward Sand 
 wich. We easily enough found a hotel 
 there that was not shut. We ate a 
 128
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 great deal of supper and then hastened 
 to our room, while Albert announced 
 his intention of viewing the town. He 
 said he meant to stay long enough the 
 next day to see them blow a bird of 
 paradise in different colored glass; he 
 spoke as if the glass works in Sandwich 
 were entirely given over to the manu 
 facture of birds of paradise; as, per 
 haps, they are, for I do not absolutely 
 know to the contrary. I am not going 
 to make statements for which I cannot 
 vouch. My first aim in these chron 
 icles is strict veracity. 
 
 It was nearly sunset when our supper 
 was eaten. I thought that Amabel 
 would be tired and stay in our room, 
 but she took her hat and stood hesi 
 tatingly an instant with it in her hand. 
 I was stretched out in a rocker; it was 
 a time when, if I had been a man, or 
 what is almost as good, a new woman, 
 I should have been smoking. 
 
 "Are you going out?" I asked, in 
 surprise. 
 
 129
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Yes," she answered. She walked 
 about in the room. She paused by my 
 chair; she leaned over and kissed me. 
 
 "What!" I cried, "aren t you ever 
 coming back?" 
 
 "Oh, yes, indeed, in a very little 
 while ; but I do you care the least in 
 the world if I don t ask you to go with 
 me?" 
 
 "Not the least," promptly. 
 
 Amabel looked relieved. She has 
 tened from the room. When she was 
 half-way down the stairs I went to the 
 door and called to her. 
 
 "You know, Amabel," I said, "when 
 you are alone you are liable to get 
 into some kind of mischief. Are you 
 going to see the birds of paradise?" 
 
 "Oh, no." 
 
 She went on. I returned to my 
 rocker and I made an attempt to read 
 the Bible, for I found a Bible placed in 
 the exact center of an oval table that 
 stood in the corner of the room. Over 
 this table was a picture of Abraham 
 130
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 offering up Isaac as a sacrifice. Isaac 
 had on a pink frock, cut low neck and 
 short sleeves, and Abraham wore a 
 purple gown, en train. In the middle 
 distance was a vivid green bush, from 
 which protruded the horns of the 
 otherwise unseen goat. Amabel had 
 spoken of asking the authorities of the 
 hotel to take down that picture during 
 our brief stay, on the ground that she 
 sometimes had dyspepsia, and had been 
 ordered not to do anything likely to 
 bring on an attack. This was our only 
 picture, and I was now left alone with 
 it. But I never had dyspepsia. 
 
 I could not read much in the Bible, 
 because I was worrying about Ama 
 bel. Why had she gone out alone? 
 
 When it had become dusk a servant 
 brought me a kerosene hand lamp and 
 seven matches. This made it seem 
 late, for a June day is very long. I 
 did not light the lamp. I sat at the 
 open window, which commanded a 
 view of the main street. I leaned my 
 131
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 arms on the sill and watched for Ama 
 bel. The place was very quiet. 
 People sauntered by now and then. A 
 strident voice sometimes rose through 
 the sweet air. 
 
 "Jim didn t git no ketch at all last 
 time; it does seem s if the cod jest 
 knew twas Jim, n wouldn t bite." 
 
 "I s pose he got drunk." 
 
 "No; he s sworn off." 
 
 Then a laugh, and the two men had 
 turned into another street. 
 
 "He s had to lay out no end of 
 money on his bog, ye know. I d know 
 when he ll be done cartin sand onto 
 it." 
 
 "One thing, there s sand nough 
 round here for all the cranberry bogs 
 in the world n glass, too." 
 
 "That s so. I don t s pose the Lord 
 ever made any place thout nothin in 
 it." 
 
 "I guess not/ D you see the 
 folks that come here t the hotel to 
 night?" 
 
 132
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 One of the men was leaning against 
 a hitch-post beneath my window. The 
 other was leaning against nothing; he 
 had his hands deep in his trousers 
 pockets, and was slouching forward. 
 The light hanging in front of the 
 building shone on them. If I had 
 seen them on the island of Sicily I 
 should have known they were Yan 
 kees. 
 
 "No. Who be they?" 
 
 "Oh, I d know. Two women; n a 
 boy; n a wheel; n two horses. 
 Women on the horses. I call home the 
 place for women; if home ain t the 
 place for women I sh d jest like to 
 know where the place is. I hate to 
 see women out of their place. If 
 you ve got a place I say you had 
 oughter be in it, else what in thunder s 
 the use of havin a place, I say? I tell 
 my wife I 
 
 "Sh! I guess here s one of um 
 now." 
 
 The talking had been so near me, 
 
 133
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 and so distinct, that I had heard every 
 word. It now ceased suddenly. The 
 men immediately looked as if they 
 could not speak, but could only 
 gaze. 
 
 It was Amabel who came tripping 
 innocently along. I say innocently; 
 but what did she have in her arms? 
 It was rather a large package, and as 
 she reached the lamp I saw that it 
 must be a drygoods package. 
 
 I turned and quickly lighted the 
 lamp. I had time to place the lamp on 
 the oval table under the picture of 
 Abraham and Isaac, and to seat my 
 self with the Bible in my hand before 
 the door opened. 
 
 Amabel entered and put her pack 
 age on the bed. As she took off her 
 hat I asked if she had had a pleasant 
 walk. I spoke just as amiably as if I 
 had been invited to go with her, and, 
 indeed, I felt amiable, for there is 
 something about Amabel that makes 
 it difficult to be really vexed with her.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Yes," she answered, and then, 
 without any provocation, she added, 
 emphatically : 
 
 "I never did approve of side-saddles; 
 not even when I was a little girl and 
 learned to ride." 
 
 Now I was alarmed. Amabel has a 
 way of looking rapt when she is under 
 the influence of a resolve. She looked 
 rapt now. 
 
 "Is the town interesting?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 "Yes no I m sure I can t tell. 
 Side - saddles don t distribute the 
 weight of the rider properly. They " 
 
 "Oh, Amabel, don t let s talk about 
 side-saddles; we ve got them, and 
 you know the pains we took to make 
 those pads to put under them, and 
 they don t make the least little bit 
 of a galled place any more ; not even 
 a swelling. You remember we ve 
 always thought that those pads just 
 that they just oh, well, filled the 
 bill."
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I spoke hurriedly and couldn t choose 
 classic phrases. 
 
 Amabel was unfastening the string 
 that confined the brown paper. 
 
 "But the weight, you know, can t be 
 distributed properly, and it isn t safe. 
 Theoretically, I have never approved 
 of this fashion of riding a horse. It 
 is it is inhuman, and there s no 
 reason in it. 
 
 By this time Amabel had removed 
 the paper. She seemed to have some 
 gray broadcloth. 
 
 "They didn t have much of a variety 
 to choose from," she remarked, "but 
 shouldn t you think this would do very 
 well?" 
 
 I said I didn t know. 
 
 "I wish you would manifest some 
 interest," she responded. She looked 
 wistfully at me. 
 
 "Interest in what?" I asked. 
 
 "Why, in Turkish leglets, " she 
 answered. 
 
 I had come to the bed and was 
 136
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 fingering the cloth. I wonder if it 
 would be too melodramatic to say that 
 despair seized my heart. 
 
 "Oh, Amabel!" I cried. 
 
 "Yes," she went on, absorbedly, 
 "or trouserettes, I don t exactly know 
 which ; but it makes no difference, not 
 the least difference. There s a place 
 in^ New York where you can buy em 
 ready made ; I have the address, but as 
 it s at home in my desk it won t do me 
 any good now. Besides, I m sure I 
 can make em. There are scissors in 
 your bag, aren t there? I ll cut the 
 cloth to-night, and I thought I could 
 finish the whole to-morrow. I 
 thought" (here my friend turned to 
 ward me) "I thought I wouldn t go 
 on to-morrow; I d just stay here 
 and sew, and you and Albert could 
 go right along to to Barnstable, per 
 haps, and I d join you. I don t want 
 to interfere in any way, you know. 
 And the man at the store where I 
 bought this knew of such a good 
 137
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 man s saddle or such a man s good 
 saddle, or but you know what I mean. 
 And he took me to see it twas in a 
 barn close by and it s only been 
 used one summer, because the owner 
 has 
 
 "Gone to Europe," I interrupted. 
 
 "No, has swapped his horse for a 
 bicycle, and will sell the saddle cheap. 
 It s a great chance, and I snapped it up 
 directly. They re going to bring it 
 here this evening. What makes you 
 look like that?" 
 
 "How am I looking?" 
 
 "Why, just as if you d sink through 
 the floor." 
 
 "It s so unexpected," I said. 
 
 "What is?" 
 
 "The trouserettes. " 
 
 "Don t you remember that time 
 when we were looking at the illustra 
 tions of women riding horseback in the 
 only correct way in that magazine, 
 you know and how nice they were 
 they really weren t shocking at all, and 
 138
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 you said that they were quite pretty. 
 You said that." 
 
 "Did I?" 
 
 "You certainly did. And I never 
 dreamed that you d have such an 
 expression on your face just because I 
 oh, here are the scissors and thimble, 
 and I ve bought linings and sewing 
 silk just because I m going to reform. 
 Do you care so very much? Haven t 
 you any moral courage?" 
 
 But I could not reply directly. I had 
 now gone back to my rocker.- At last 
 I spoke. I asked Amabel if she had 
 considered the feelings of the inhabit 
 ants of the Cape. She needn t mind 
 me ; but had she thought of the people 
 dwelling peacefully all along this 
 peninsula? 
 
 Amabel was now measuring her 
 gray cloth by holding a portion of it to 
 her nose, and then out the length of 
 one arm. 
 
 4 I haven t given a thought to them, 
 she answered, "and I shan t." 
 139
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 She sat down on the bed and medi 
 tated, gazing at the cloth that now lay 
 in a heap before her. I knew she was 
 thinking how to cut it. She was very 
 capable in regard to cutting out things. 
 
 "You know," she said, after a while, 
 "there was a row of women on horse 
 back in that magazine. Each suit was 
 a little different from the others. My 
 old waist and jacket will do well 
 enough It s full leglets and a divided 
 skirt that I want. It s just as simple 
 as it can be. I can see the whole thing 
 in my mind s eye. And I ll try on to 
 you, dear, and so I shall be sure to go 
 right." 
 
 Snip went the scissors. This was 
 very hard to bear. And Amabel was 
 always so particularly amiable when 
 she was particularly having her own 
 way. 
 
 I wondered where Albert was. I 
 
 presently went down the stairs. At 
 
 the open outer door I met Albert. He 
 
 was rushing in with a good deal of 
 
 140
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 emphasis in his action. When he saw 
 me he exclaimed : 
 
 "Oh, I say! What s all this? 
 They ve just brought a man s saddle 
 out to the stable, and the fellow says a 
 woman s bought it a woman with a 
 gray cap on, and and" here the boy 
 hesitated, and then continued "and a 
 remarkably agreeable smile. Now, 
 you know, that s Amabel she has got 
 a good smile. But, by George has 
 she been out here in Sandwich buying 
 a man s saddle?" 
 
 141
 
 VI 
 
 IN THE LANE 
 
 I took hold of the sleeve of Albert s 
 sweater and I walked him out of the 
 house and along the road to a place 
 where there was solitude. He yanked 
 his arm, but I kept my clasp upon the 
 sleeve. For a boy Albert was re 
 markably conventional, and he thought 
 women ought to do what women had 
 always done, no more, no less. 
 
 We stopped by a lilac bush. "I m 
 afraid it s true," I said. I spoke very 
 calmly. It did me a great deal of 
 good to see Albert so excited. For 
 some inexplicable reason I began to feel 
 as if I might defend my friend s course. 
 
 "Oh, blast it!" he cried. He kicked 
 out his foot. "Am is the tarnalest 
 thing when she gets a notion in her 
 143
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 head! I m a great mind to set fire to 
 the whole thing. 
 
 "What whole thing? You needn t 
 set fire to The Thane." 
 
 Albert was kicking the sand and 
 muttering. 
 
 "Just to think!" he began again. 
 "Only to think of her going through 
 the country in that style, n me with 
 her! They ll put us in the papers; 
 they ll " 
 
 "But really," I said, "the pictures 
 look quite pretty they re not startling 
 at all ; and you know women are riding 
 bicycles everywhere; and it s not 
 thought odd for them to dress for it, 
 and well, in fact, Albert, I must say 
 that that so s a hen." 
 
 Then I laughed, rather hysterically, 
 I m afraid. 
 
 But my companion did not laugh. 
 He stood there glowering. I could 
 not distinctly see his face, but I knew 
 he was glowering, and I could not 
 blame him. 
 
 144
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I ve a great mind to write to 
 father," he said, at last. 
 
 "He will only laugh and say it s just 
 like her." 
 
 After a few more moments, during 
 which Albert had muttered and thrown 
 more sand about with his foot, he 
 announced that he "s posed we d got 
 to stand it. 
 
 Then we went to the stable, where 
 we examined the saddle, which had 
 been put in an old sleigh. 
 
 "Goin" to try ridin a hoss yerself, 
 ain t you?" inquired an old man who 
 was doddering about with a big broom 
 made of twigs. A lantern hung from 
 the ceiling. 
 
 Albert made answer that it wouldn t 
 be the first time if he did. He brought 
 out Amabel s horse and put the sad 
 dle upon him, looking at straps and 
 buckles so carefully and solicitously that 
 I felt that, after all, I was fond of Albert. 
 
 "It s a capital pigskin," said he. 
 
 He slapped his hand down on the 
 145
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 leather as he spoke. "I wonder what 
 she paid for it." 
 
 "I don t know; she said it was a 
 bargain. 
 
 "Pooh! Of course twas a bargain. 
 The proportion of women who think 
 they always get bargains is as 
 
 I hurriedly said something, I hardly 
 knew what ; anything to keep the boy 
 from going into any kind of figures. 
 
 We stood about in the barn and 
 watched the old man sweep the rough 
 planking with his twig broom. The 
 interest of examining the saddle had 
 subsided with Albert. He suddenly 
 came close to me and confided in a 
 whisper that he had a great mind to 
 take Amabel s bowie-knife and give a 
 slash at her horse s hind leg. Then 
 she d have time enough to come to her 
 senses before her horse could go. To 
 this I replied that she would never 
 come to her senses, because she 
 thought that her senses was what she 
 had just come to. 
 
 146
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "And now," I said, with a great 
 appearance of cheerfulness, "I will go 
 in and see how the trouserettes come 
 on." 
 
 "Oh, the whole thing be blowed!" I 
 heard him say. "Am ought to be shut 
 "up." 
 
 I went upstairs. The Bible had 
 been removed from the oval table, 
 which was now occupied by a pile of 
 gray cloth. The kerosene lamp was 
 blazing to its fullest capacity. Ama 
 bel had already cut out something, and 
 was sewing rapidly. Her hand 
 actually seemed to flash, it went so 
 fast. 
 
 "I m so glad you ve come," she 
 said, without turning her head. "I 
 shall soon have something basted to 
 try on you." 
 
 I sat down on the bed. 
 
 "Albert says you ought to be shut 
 up," I remarked. 
 
 Amabel laughed. She threaded her 
 needle and ran it into the cloth again ; 
 147
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 out it flew, dragging nearly a yard of 
 sewing cotton. 
 
 I was suddenly impelled to leave my 
 seat and go and throw myself on my 
 friend. I embraced her and kissed 
 her; I told her it was no time, on a 
 journey like this, to try an experiment. 
 I asked her if she loved me. 
 
 She returned my caresses tenderly ; 
 at the same time she gathered up the 
 gray cloth with one hand. 
 
 "Of course I love you; you know 
 that very well. And it s precisely the 
 time to try this experiment, on a jour 
 ney. Did you think I could ride a 
 horse sitting in my room at home? 
 Now, please let me measure this skirt. 
 There, shouldn t you think that would 
 do? You know you are almost exactly 
 my height? You ll be wanting me to 
 fit you out before you know it. Just 
 think, if I sit up rather late sewing 
 to-night, I m sure I shall be able to get 
 my suit done so that we may start by 
 noon. Perhaps you and Albert will 
 148
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 be willing to wait until then, and we 
 can all go together. I may feel a little 
 queer at first, and it would be pleas 
 ant not to be alone. Not that I care 
 much; I should have my bowie-knife, 
 you know." 
 
 Here Amabel laughed with great 
 merriment. But I could not join in 
 her laughter. I went to bed; the 
 , night passed in a medley of sleeping 
 and waking dreams of divided skirts 
 and trousers. I didn t know when 
 Amabel stopped sewing, but I suppose 
 she did stop, for when the first bell 
 rang she was sleeping calmly. I 
 went down to breakfast alone. 
 Albert was waiting for me in the hall. 
 He asked me if I had "left her locked 
 up," and when I shook my head he 
 said she was a fool ; and he was a fool, 
 and he wished he was in Guinea. He 
 furthermore said that the folks in the 
 hotel had somehow found out that 
 "one of them women" had bought 
 Charlie Smith s saddle because she 
 149
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 wanted to ride it herself ; that she was 
 a reformer woman, and had sat up all 
 night to make something to wear. 
 
 "And they say," went on Albert, in 
 a hoarse half -voice, "that she was 
 taken with being a reformer after she 
 got to the hotel last night, and nothing 
 would do but she must have a cross- 
 tree. There ll be a lot of folks here 
 to see us start. Do you see those 
 fellows over there?" he nodded toward 
 the street. I looked and saw four or 
 five young men leaning against the 
 fence. "They ve been there ever 
 since I came down. I heard em talk 
 ing. Two of em have bet she won t 
 do it, and two of em have bet she 
 will. They ve put up $1.50 apiece. 
 You see, I can t kill em. I ve got to 
 let em live. I don t know how many 
 more will be here by nine o clock. 
 Now, what s going to be done?" 
 
 "Can t we start from the back 
 door?" I asked, feebly. 
 
 Albert laughed with great scorn. 
 150
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Back door be dumbed!" he re 
 sponded. "That old man with the 
 twig broom knows it. He told me ten 
 minutes ago that he understood 
 twan t me, after all, that was going 
 to use Charley Smith s saddle." 
 
 "Where s your Japanese dirk?" I 
 inquired. 
 
 The boy involuntarily put his hand to 
 his belt. 
 
 " Tain t any joke," he said. "I 
 won t stand it if you go to taking it as 
 a joke. Something s got to be thought 
 of." 
 
 I began myself to think that some 
 thing must be thought of. I proposed 
 that we eat our breakfast, and mean 
 time that we keep our minds in a 
 receptive state. 
 
 Just as we were finishing our meal 
 
 Amabel came in. She greeted us as 
 
 if we were greatly pleased with her. 
 
 She made an excellent repast. She 
 
 took occasion to inform me that two 
 
 hours work would finish the suit. In 
 
 151
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 response I asked her to look through 
 the window. There were now seven 
 or eight men grouped at the fence. 
 
 "They re waiting to see you start," 
 I said. "They ve got bets laid." 
 
 Amabel grew red. I was afraid that 
 I ought not to have spoken thus. If 
 her combativeness should be roused 
 matters would be still worse. 
 
 She said nothing, and I hurried her 
 upstairs. 
 
 "Let us circumvent them," I sug 
 gested. 
 
 "Very well," she answered. "I 
 will not give up a principle like a 
 divided skirt, but I don t want to be 
 obstinate." 
 
 Whereupon I hurriedly proposed that 
 when she had finished her sewing she 
 should take the first train to Barn- 
 stable; Albert and I would ride there. 
 We would lead Amabel s horse with the 
 man s saddle on it. We would express 
 the discarded saddle home. In Barn- 
 stable we would meet, and in some 
 152
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 secluded part of that town she should 
 begin her journey with her weight 
 equally divided. I bore down upon my 
 friend with this proposition in such a 
 way that she assented. I did not wait 
 a moment after receiving this assent. 
 In half an hour Albert and I were 
 riding away from Sandwich. We 
 mounted in front of the hotel before a 
 rather large congregation which had 
 gathered as if by magic as soon as 
 Amabel s horse, with Charley Smith s 
 saddle upon it, had been brought 
 round. 
 
 Albert was on his wheel. A rope 
 was attached to the bits of Amabel s 
 horse, and I held the other end of the 
 rope. To my inexpressible relief The 
 Thane made no objection to this 
 arrangement. Perhaps he thought 
 that in some way it was derogatory to 
 the other horse, and so liked it. 
 
 The Thane kindly consented, also, 
 to allow a chair to be brought close to 
 the stirrup, and from this chair I got 
 153
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 into my saddle in view of the assem 
 blage. 
 
 When we were well away Albert 
 raised his voice and asked the circum 
 ambient air if it thought it would ever 
 see him in Sandwich again. 
 
 "If you ever catch me there I ll be 
 I ll be " 
 
 He suddenly stopped and glanced at 
 me as if my presence were a restraint 
 upon him. 
 
 It was extremely good to be on the 
 road again. It seemed as if we had 
 been shut up many days in Sand 
 wich. 
 
 The weather had changed. A mist 
 was rising in the east, and a swift wind 
 was blowing in from the sea. We rode 
 briskly. We could taste the salt on 
 our lips. At East Sandwich we were 
 afraid it was going to rain ; but a half- 
 hour later the wind had died away and 
 the soft southwester had begun again. 
 Sometimes, from an elevation in the 
 road, we could see the waters of Cape 
 
 154
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Cod Bay; sometimes, in the far offing, 
 we saw the trail of smoke which we 
 were pleased to believe came from the 
 stacks of some European liner. 
 
 There is always a glamour about a 
 foreign-going steamer; the sight of it 
 suggests dreams of ports we have 
 longed to see and never shall see. A 
 thousand fancies but one cannot very 
 well indulge in fancies in the company 
 of a boy of fourteen who is mathe 
 matically inclined. When I spoke in 
 rather a romantic way of that steamer, 
 which we saw when we were about a 
 mile and three-quarters this side of 
 Barnstable, Albert immediately began 
 to wonder how many tons of coal they 
 had put aboard before starting, and at 
 what rate they were burning it. He 
 said there was quite a difference in the 
 rate, and here I succeeded in disen 
 gaging my mind from what he was 
 saying, and so cannot report. 
 
 The roads on Cape Cod are not, as a 
 rule, the kind a wheelman would choose
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 to ride upon, except those near where 
 the cottagers have clustered in greater 
 numbers. In such vicinities the sum 
 mer residents have made good high 
 ways for themselves to ride upon, and 
 others profit by their deed. 
 
 I was rather sorry for my companion 
 when I saw him pedaling so labor 
 iously, but when I expressed this sor 
 row he said he guessed I needn t strain 
 myself pitying him. 
 
 The Thane behaved nobly; his man 
 ner expressed something of a disdain 
 toward Amabel s steed as being merely 
 a led horse, but as this disdain was con 
 fined to manner entirely, and did not 
 develop into any overt act, the time 
 passed calmly. 
 
 We had neglected to look at a rail 
 way timetable before we started, so we 
 did not know when a train would arrive 
 from Boston, for it must be a Boston 
 train that Amabel would take. We 
 only knew that there were two trains 
 a day each way, excepting on Satur- 
 156
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 days, when there were three, and this 
 wasn t Saturday. 
 
 It seemed to us a long fifteen miles 
 from Sandwich to Barnstable, and it 
 was not made shorter by my anxiety 
 concerning Amabel. And ought I to 
 have remained at the hotel so that she 
 could try on to me? This question 
 came with startling force to my mind 
 just as the towers and turrets and 
 battlements of Barnstable loomed upon 
 the horizon. 
 
 But I was charmed with Barnstable. 
 Of course the summer cottage had 
 grown here some degree, but why 
 should I, who am but a summer person 
 myself, find fault with that fact? Here 
 sits the curious old place by its deep 
 bay, sits and dreams of the time when 
 the world needed whale oil. That the 
 world should need whale oil in large 
 quantities must be the ideal of pros 
 perity along this shore, an ideal never 
 more to be realized. If these villages 
 are decadent, however, it is a salt- 
 i57
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 preserved decadence that is more inter 
 esting than successful being that, 
 indeed, has still the pulse of sturdy 
 life. It was down in this country 
 was it in Eastham? that they built a 
 fortified church, and that "a part of 
 every stranded whale was by law 
 reserved for the ministry. Think of 
 a minister in these days being paid in 
 whale ! 
 
 But I have heard that now in some 
 parts of the Cape alewives are legal 
 tender, and you can pick up clams as 
 you walk along the streets. I do not 
 believe such a tale, however; clams 
 would not promenade a public thor 
 oughfare ; their keen intelligence would 
 teach them better. 
 
 Here we were, tired and hot and 
 hungry, at the door of the Globe 
 House. We had been a long time on 
 the way; we had traveled slowly, and 
 we had several times rested. My 
 anxiety as to Amabel had grown rather 
 than abated. What if she should be- 
 158
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 come absorbed in dressmaking and 
 should neglect to take the cars? Some 
 times Amabel is absent-minded. 
 
 I was melancholy as I dismounted 
 and relinquished my two horses to the 
 hostler, who took them, staring so that 
 he twice dropped the halter which I 
 detached from my pommel. Albert 
 went round to the stable with them. 
 When the time came for our horses to 
 be taken to a stable I was always glad 
 that Albert was with us. It was 
 entirely proper for him to penetrate 
 those mysterious precincts. 
 
 I entered the dim parlor and sat 
 down. I felt desolate and forsaken. 
 I was now decidedly sorry I had not 
 remained with my friend in Sandwich. 
 If trains had been going often between 
 the two places, I would have gone 
 back. It was now past the middle of 
 the afternoon. I was faint and weary ; 
 the world was black to me. 
 
 Somebody was coming down the 
 stairs somebody hurried through the 
 159
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 open doorway somebody hugged me 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, I m so glad! I began to fear 
 something had happened. I ve 
 worried about you no end I ve felt 
 mean I ve 
 
 Reader, it was Amabel; fresh and 
 smiling, and rested, and really quite 
 radiant! I kissed her as if I hadn t 
 seen her for a month. For one 
 moment I forgot that it was better to 
 have one s weight evenly divided upon 
 the horse. 
 
 But she hadn t forgotten. 
 
 "You can t think what luck I ve 
 had," she went on. "It s a perfect fit 
 it s just a love of a dove and I shall 
 be so happy in it. I ll make you one 
 perhaps I ought to speak in the plural 
 I ll make some for you and perhaps 
 we can find another man s saddle 
 another saddle for a man, I mean 
 really for you, you know you know 
 what I mean." 
 
 I thanked her and said that I was 
 
 160
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 not yet far advanced enough. She 
 responded hopefully that she was sure 
 that she should convert me; she was 
 sure that I, who was so reasonable and 
 tender-hearted, would soon be able to 
 see things as she saw them. And did 
 we have a pleasant ride, and was 
 Albert awfully cross? and so on. 
 
 It was on the tip of my tongue to say 
 that it is very easy to be in good spirits 
 when you are having your own way, 
 but, as I may have said before, Ama 
 bel is very disarming, and she is not 
 selfish ; she is she is just Amabel, and 
 you who have met her know what I 
 mean by that phrase, and that it is the 
 only phrase that is of any good. 
 
 We had supper, and then we went 
 out and wandered by the shores of the 
 bay, and saw some fishermen; and 
 Albert made inquiries as to the aver 
 age amount of cod caught by Cape 
 fishermen in the last five years. But 
 Amabel and I looked at the water, and 
 the stars over the water, and at the 
 
 161
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 dim shapes of boats on the shore ; and 
 we smelled the heavy scent of the 
 syringa blossoms, and decided that 
 orange blooms had not a more entranc 
 ing fragrance. 
 
 As we came back toward the hotel we 
 passed through a narrow lane where 
 the odor of fish was very strong, and 
 where at one of the open doors a 
 woman sat with a baby in her arms. 
 The baby was making a little wailing 
 noise, and the mother was trying to 
 sing to it, and her singing was broken 
 by sobs. 
 
 Amabel stopped; so I stopped also. 
 
 "Is the baby sick?" asked Amabel. 
 
 "Yes, ma am. The doctor said" 
 here a pause, then another attempt 
 "he said she couldn t live more n 
 twenty-four hours." 
 
 "Oh!" said Amabel, softly she 
 seemed to hesitate. Then she went 
 through the bit of a flower garden 
 where the stalks of the tiger lily grew 
 almost as rank as the pigweed. The 
 162
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 garden was not more than ten feet 
 wide; I leaned on the fence. 
 
 "Let me take her a minute," said 
 my friend, in a voice that I knew went 
 straight to the mother s heart. "You 
 must be so tired. 
 
 "I ain t slep for three days n 
 nights," was the response, "but that 
 ain t no matter I c n stan that." 
 
 She rose as Amabel extended her 
 arms. Amabel took the baby and sat 
 down in the mother s place on the 
 doorstep. She held the child close to 
 her, gazing down at it. In the half 
 darkness the tiny face looked as white, 
 and almost as formless, as a splash of 
 snow on Amabel s shoulder. The 
 head moved piteously to and fro. 
 
 The mother stood leaning against the 
 frame of the door, her eyes on the child. 
 
 "She s be n movin her head jes like 
 that ever sence mornin ," she said. 
 
 She bent over and touched the 
 baby s cheek with her finger. Then 
 she seemed to fall in a heap at Ama- 
 163
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 bel s knees and to cower there. A 
 slight wind stirred the syringa bush 
 that was growing in the next yard; 
 the blossoms nodded in the air, and 
 their perfume came strongly to me. 
 It was June, June opulent with life; 
 but this poor morsel of humanity was 
 drifting away from it all. Did she 
 care? Would she ever, in some other 
 world, care that her time had been so 
 short in this? 
 
 I wished that I could do something, 
 but I could only stand there. 
 
 The tide was softly ebbing out; the 
 deep bay looked shallow now. 
 
 Amabel, holding her burden care 
 fully with one arm, reached out her 
 other hand and put it on the woman s 
 shoulder. 
 
 "Sh!" she said, softly, "you ve got 
 to bear it. 
 
 The woman cowered still nearer, and 
 leaned her head on Amabel s knees. 
 
 "We all have to bear things," said 
 my friend. 
 
 164
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, I know I know," was the 
 response. Then suddenly and bitterly: 
 "You s pose there s a God, don t you?" 
 
 "Yes, yes." 
 
 The woman sat upright. She flung a 
 tight-shut hand above her head. 
 
 "Then all I ve got to say is He s a 
 meaner critter n any of us!" she 
 cried. " He takes all my babies. What 
 does He want of em? Jes tell me that! 
 What does He want of em? He s killed 
 three this s the fourth. Oh ! Oh ! " 
 
 Something more came inarticulately 
 from her lips. 
 
 "Where s the father?" 
 
 "I d know. Drunk somewhere," 
 with an indescribably bitter tone. 
 
 "Drunk? Now?" 
 
 It was I who said this, and then 
 repented. 
 
 But the mother did not apparently 
 hear. 
 
 "Poor thing! Poor thing!" Amabel 
 spoke in a half whisper. 
 
 "Don t ye pity me! Don t ye pity 
 165
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 me! I can t stan that now. Folks 
 round here don t pity me much. Dave 
 was a drinkin brute when I married 
 him. They say it s good nough for 
 me. I d know what possessed me. 
 But the neighbors ve be n good to me. 
 Mis Lyon sat up with me las night." 
 
 The words ran on in a dull mono 
 tone. All the time the mother s eyes 
 were fixed on the baby, who was lying 
 more quiet now. 
 
 "You soothe her, "said the woman, 
 after an instant s silence. "Oh! mebby 
 it s the turnin point, n she ll get 
 well. Doctors don t know everything, 
 do they? Say, do they?" 
 
 "Hush!" whispered Amabel. 
 
 Yes, the baby was quiet now. Its 
 little form was still, and it had stopped 
 moaning. 
 
 The woman rose rigidly upright on 
 her knees at Amabel s side. 
 
 "What!" 
 
 The sharp tone of her voice was 
 dreadful to hear. 
 
 166
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 She sprang to her feet, bent over and 
 snatched the baby to her breast. 
 With it held thus she began to walk 
 rapidly up and down in the narrow 
 space before the door, holding her child 
 close. Presently she sang a few 
 words. She sang "God my Supporter 
 is," in a thin, sweet voice that was 
 perfectly steady. 
 
 "Mis Merrit," asked some one from 
 across the lane, "how s baby to-night? 
 I guess I c n set up n take care of it 
 till midnight; n you c n lop down n 
 ketch a nap. She s more comfortable, 
 ain t she?" 
 
 "Yes," answered the mother, "she s 
 a lot more comfortable," and she began 
 to sing again as she walked, 
 
 "God my supporter is." 
 
 She did not get any further than that 
 line. She went back and repeated it 
 still another time. 
 
 The neighbor pushed by me and 
 strode up the tiny path among the 
 tiger lily stalks. 
 
 167
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Here," she said, "Mis Merrit, you 
 lem me have it! I ll do what s neces 
 sary now; n I ll send my Jim for the 
 undertaker." 
 
 Mrs. Merrit faced about with the 
 dead baby held up against her heart. 
 
 "No," she shouted, "you shan t have 
 it! God my supporter is, " her treble 
 higher and sweeter than before. 
 
 The neighbor quailed. 
 
 "Poor thing!" she cried, "she s gone 
 out of her head n I don t wonder." 
 
 I hastened up the path. I did not 
 know what I was going to do, but I 
 wanted to do something. Amabel 
 went close to Mrs. Merrit, and put her. 
 arm about her. 
 
 "Come," she said, "come into the 
 house with me. You ll let me take the 
 baby again." 
 
 She extended her arms and the 
 mother did let her take the baby. 
 Holding the tiny, stiffening form, 
 Amabel turned to me and whispered 
 imperatively : 
 
 168
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Do find a doctor!" 
 
 But the neighbor who had come 
 interposed. 
 
 "I ll go," she said. "I know where 
 to go. I shouldn t blame her one bit 
 if she went raving distracted." 
 
 With these words she hurried away. 
 
 We entered the dingy little house 
 where a kerosene lamp was burning 
 on the shelf. On the table was a small 
 kerosene stove with one wick; this was 
 lighted, and on the iron frame above it 
 was a tin cup holding something that 
 bubbled and steamed. 
 
 The mother walked up to this lamp- 
 stove and took off the cup. She went 
 to the sink and poured the contents of 
 the cup into it. 
 
 "She ll never want it," she re 
 marked, in a perfectly collected 
 manner. 
 
 I looked at her in amazement. Her 
 face was flushed, her eyes very bright. 
 
 Amabel laid the baby on a bed which 
 stood in the next room. 
 169
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Mrs. Merrit sat down in a chair by 
 the bed. She sat quietly and she did 
 not speak. 
 
 We waited. It would be a barbarous 
 thing to leave her now. But there was 
 nothing to do. 
 
 Once Amabel went and leaned over 
 the woman, with her arm about the 
 bent shoulders. I heard the woman 
 sob dryly. Amabel drew a chair close 
 and sat down, holding the mother s 
 inert hand. 
 
 I sat near. The night was very 
 still. Even the bay made hardly a 
 sound, the tide not having turned to 
 come in. 
 
 But the crickets were cheerful. 
 
 It was not an hour, though it seemed 
 much longer, when we heard a heavy, 
 shuffling step outside. I was looking 
 at Mrs. Merrit and I saw a convulsive 
 movement go over her. 
 
 The step approached and imme 
 diately a thick-set man entered. I saw 
 his bearded face as he went toward the 
 170
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 kitchen stove. He had a cane, and he 
 thumped it heavily on the door. 
 
 His hand went bunglingly over the 
 cold stove. 
 
 "I say, Becky," he said, "I told ye to 
 leave the coffee. I say " 
 
 I rose and went into the kitchen. I 
 took the hand lamp and looked at the 
 man. 
 
 "No matter about the coffee," I said. 
 "Are you Mr. Merrit?" 
 
 "Yeh I be." 
 
 He leaned on his cane and stared 
 hazily at me. He swayed, drew him 
 self up and planted his feet more 
 firmly. 
 
 "Who be you?" 
 
 "It s of no consequence. I see 
 you re drunk. Your baby has just 
 died. Behave as well as you can. 
 Can t you go to bed somewhere?" 
 
 He swayed again, again drew him 
 self up and planted his feet. 
 
 "Baby dead? That s the fourth. 
 I m I m sorry. You needn t think 
 171
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I m drunk. Ain t drunk a drop this 
 week; only one glass lager down to 
 Waul s day fore yist dy. Can t git 
 drunk on one glass lager day fore 
 yist dy n Waul s lager, too." 
 
 "Can t you go to bed somewhere?" I 
 repeated. 
 
 "Yeh yeh course I can. Guess 
 I ll go to bed," as if he had just 
 thought of the idea himself. "I ll go 
 to bed." 
 
 He turned toward a room at the 
 other end of the kitchen. But at the 
 door he looked back, catching hold of 
 the latch and swinging the door as he 
 stood. 
 
 "Jew say baby was dead?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Too bad I m real sorry jes s 
 sorry s I c n be. Jes like Becky to 
 forgit that cold coffee." 
 
 He made a lurch forward and on to a 
 bed that stood in the little room. 
 
 Before I could get to the door to 
 close it, he was snoring loudly. 
 172
 
 VII 
 
 SHE THAT WAS EUNICE CALKINS 
 
 Through the closed door we could 
 hear the heavy breathing of Dave 
 Merrit. I wondered if his wife heard 
 it. She gave no sign that she did. 
 She sat quiet, with Amabel beside her. 
 The time went on, and I knew by the 
 changed sound of the water in the bay 
 that the tide had turned to come in, 
 not that the long-drawn gurgle of the 
 water was louder, but that it was 
 different. 
 
 The clock had struck ten before the 
 woman who had gone for the doctor 
 returned. She was almost breathless. 
 She said he had been called to Wellfleet, 
 "somebody was dretful sick . in Well- 
 fleet, and there was to be a consulta 
 tion. Nobody knew when he d be back.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 " Tain t no matter," said Mrs. 
 Merrit, who had heard the words. 
 "Doctor can t do nothin . You 
 needn t have gone." 
 
 "I wanted him for you, Mrs. 
 Merrit," was the response. "I didn t 
 know what would happen to you. 
 You re jest wore out, you be." 
 
 "Me!" 
 
 The mother laughed shortly. 
 
 "Where s Dave?" the neighbor asked. 
 
 "Can t you hear him?" Mrs. Merrit 
 turned. There was a fury in her 
 sunken eyes. "Dave s a-restin of his- 
 self. That s what he s doin . That s 
 the man I married for love. He was 
 goin to stop drinkin , cause he loved 
 me so. Ain t it funny?" 
 
 "Don t ye don t ye!" pleaded the 
 other. 
 
 We stayed until Mrs. Merrit had 
 been persuaded to lie down. Some 
 catnip tea, with a little paregoric, was 
 prepared by the neighbor, and Mrs. 
 Merrit drank it, saying as she did so 
 174
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 that she "wished there was a quart of 
 laudanum in it" 
 
 When we left she was sleeping ; she 
 could not keep awake. 
 
 The woman followed us out into the 
 yard ; she became garrulous concerning 
 the trials of Dave Merrit s wife. She 
 said she shouldn t blame Dave Merrit s 
 wife for nothin she might ever do. 
 She didn t consider that a person who 
 lived with Dave Merrit was respon 
 sible. She could not bear to have us 
 go; she "hadn t half told us," she said. 
 
 We walked along the salty roads with 
 out speaking. I tried to shake off the 
 depression that had fastened upon me. 
 
 At the corner, where the lane turned 
 into a broader highway, a fiddle was 
 suddenly scraped by a long and quaver 
 ing bow, and a sonorous voice burst 
 out jovfally, 
 
 "A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 
 And a wind that follows fast" 
 
 We paused involuntarily, but the voice 
 
 175
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 stopped, and the bow ceased to be 
 drawn across the strings. 
 
 The house from which the sounds 
 came was dark, with open windows 
 and doors; an old dory was in the 
 yard, and a broken oar lay in it; we 
 could see these things dimly. The tide 
 breathed louder from the bay; a 
 breeze was coming in with the tide. 
 
 I was glad when we came out near 
 where the lamp was burning in front of 
 the hotel. 
 
 Albert came forward from a group 
 of men. 
 
 It s rather rough of you to stay off 
 like this," he said, "you d have 
 thought I was a horrid thing if I d 
 done it. What s up, anyway?" 
 
 "Nothing, only we ve been where 
 there s trouble." 
 
 We went on to our own roomf 
 
 The next morning, when the sun 
 rose, pushing with persistent cheerful 
 ness through a bank of clouds, it 
 seemed as if we had dreamed about 
 176
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 that baby and its mother. Amabel 
 hurried to the lane after breakfast. 
 When she returned she said that it was 
 all horrible, and she wished the woman 
 would die. Then she walked on out of 
 the town by herself. This was carry 
 ing out the plan we had made that 
 Amabel was to mount somewhere in a 
 desert spot beyond Barnstable, where 
 no human eye save ours could see. 
 
 A half-hour later we followed in the 
 same fashion in which we had arrived. 
 If the inhabitants of Barnstable won 
 dered greatly at our arrangements, and 
 could not fathom the reason for them, 
 they kept their wonder hidden. They 
 stared, but they did not question. 
 
 So it came to pass that when we were 
 a good mile from the village among 
 some dwarf oaks, and still well away 
 from Yarmouth Station, we espied, 
 sitting on a bowlder by the roadside, a 
 female figure tha t we presently knew 
 was Amabel. 
 
 "There s Am," said Albert, with a
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 groan. "You don t suppose she s 
 changed her mind, do you? There s 
 no such good luck s that." 
 
 No, there was no such good luck as 
 that. It wasn t about such things that 
 my friend changed her mind. She 
 rose and came to meet us. When she 
 left the hotel, as a concession to the 
 prejudices of the narrow-minded, she 
 had worn her riding skirt over the new 
 garments she had made. She now had 
 this skirt on her arm. 
 
 "Pooh!" cried Albert, in a relieved 
 manner, " tain t so bad." He glanced 
 at me. "What you been so frightened 
 about, anyway? It s no worse than a 
 tiptop bicycle suit. By gum! Am, 
 you ain t so much of a scarecrow s I 
 expected. Now les git ready to 
 git." 
 
 He had jumped off his wheel. 
 
 "Thank you," said Amabel. "Did 
 you think I was going to disgrace 
 you?" 
 
 "Yes, of course. You expect any- 
 178
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 thing of a reformer. Here, let me have 
 that horse, "he grabbed the bridle of 
 Amabel s horse and led it up to his 
 sister. "Put your foot in the stirrup 
 n swing right up. You ll pass muster 
 now, I tell you. Go it!" 
 
 It was evident that Amabel was 
 excited. I was excited myself. She 
 stood by her horse with her hand on 
 his neck. 
 
 "If you ve changed your mind, I ll 
 get back your saddle somehow," said 
 Albert. "I ll begin telegraphing for 
 it at Yarmouth Station, and I won t 
 stop till it comes. 
 
 "Don t be silly," was the response. 
 "Lead him up somewhere and I ll 
 get on. If I live I ll have my weight 
 evenly distributed and I ll have a 
 clear conscience. Lead him up some 
 where, I say!" 
 
 But we had to go on some quarter of 
 
 a mile before we came to anything 
 
 from which to mount. Then we found 
 
 a stump high enough, and Amabel got 
 
 179
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 into the saddle. She said she hoped I 
 felt sufficiently interested in the cause 
 to get down and see if what skirts she 
 had were hanging right. 
 
 I replied that I would not stir a fin 
 ger for the cause, but for the love I 
 bore her I would dismount, as we had 
 come to a stump. 
 
 I confess that I was greatly relieved. 
 I tried to be shocked as Amabel sat up 
 and took the bridle rein. She put one 
 hand on her hip, looked down at me 
 and laughed nervously; but there was 
 triumph in her laugh. Her skirts hung 
 gracefully; she had the appearance of 
 the very best picture in that magazine 
 which illustrated the reformed method 
 for a woman s riding. No, I really 
 couldn t be shocked, try as I would. 
 
 "Well?" she said. 
 
 "You ain t half the guy I expected," 
 said Albert. 
 
 She still looked at me, and she 
 repeated, "Well?" 
 
 "On the whole, I agree with the 
 1 80
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 previous speaker," I said. "But" I 
 hesitated. 
 
 "But what?" 
 
 "Why, perhaps you can t ride. You 
 know you ve depended on the hunting 
 horn, and on not having your weight 
 evenly distributed. After all, the test of 
 the thing is whether you can ride or not. " 
 
 "I will ride or die," she answered, 
 like the brave little knight she was. 
 But she did not look like a knight ; she 
 still had the appearance of a spirited, 
 well-bred, womanly woman, which she 
 was, also. 
 
 She gathered the bridle more closely. 
 
 "If I fall, I trust to one of you to 
 pick me up. Forward! On! Let us 
 go where glory waits us!" 
 
 She shook the little whip she carried. 
 Her horse cantered forward, and we 
 followed. Really, she did not make 
 the notable figure I had feared she 
 would. When a reform becomes a fact 
 we are not half as startled as we had 
 expected to be; it is remarkable how 
 181
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 quickly the thing seems commonplace, 
 and as if it had always been so. The 
 sun shone, the earth moved on serenely 
 as we galloped along toward Yarmouth 
 Station. It is true that we met few 
 people, but those whom we did meet 
 bore the shock safely, all save one man 
 who came along on a small load of hay. 
 He was sitting in the middle of the 
 load ; he had the reins pulled up over 
 one arm so that he might have the use 
 of both hands in lighting his pipe. He 
 had made a hollow of his hands, to 
 shield the flame of the just-ignited 
 match. I saw him, and I wondered 
 how he would be affected. The result 
 transcended my wildest fears. 
 
 He was seized with so overmastering 
 a feeling of curiosity that his lighted 
 match dropped on to the hay, and the 
 hay blazed up instantly. 
 
 We were off our saddles so quickly 
 that I have never known to this day 
 how we did it. 
 
 Albert ran to the horse that was 
 182
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 dragging the cart and caught the reins 
 at the bits. 
 
 "Get down! Get down!" he yelled. 
 "It ll all be ablaze in a minute!" 
 
 But the man didn t know enough to 
 move. Amabel, a free and unim 
 peded woman, sprang up on the shaft 
 and grabbed at the man s hand. She 
 literally pulled him off the smouldering 
 load of hay ; for, being packed tightly, 
 it was now smouldering more than 
 blazing, but it would blaze soon 
 enough. 
 
 The man stood up and brushed his 
 hat down the front of his clothes. 
 
 "I vum!" he said. He looked at his 
 load of hay and then at Amabel, "I do 
 vum!" he repeated. 
 
 "Le s take out the horse," said 
 Albert, who was already unfastening 
 the chain traces. But the man was too 
 dazed to help ; he brushed his hat down 
 in front of him again, brushed it hur 
 riedly, as if the act were of vital 
 importance. 
 
 183
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I stepped forward and gave assist 
 ance to Albert, and in a moment we 
 had the horse fastened to a birch tree a 
 few rods away. Then we stood and 
 looked. There seemed to be nothing 
 more to do but to look. 
 
 "That hay s bound to burn," re 
 marked the boy. "I don t see s we 
 can ring up the fire department. 
 P raps you won t light your pipe on 
 your next load." 
 
 As he spoke, Albert turned to the 
 stranger. I was sorry for the man. 
 He had dropped his hat to the ground 
 and was standing bent forward, with 
 his hands in his pockets. 
 
 "Wish t I d brought my pitchfork," 
 he said. "Guess we could er pitched 
 off the top." 
 
 "Guess we couldn t," impatiently 
 returned Albert. "The minute we 
 began to pitch twould burn still 
 harder. I don t want to pitch burning 
 hay. 
 
 "First-class English," remarked the 
 184
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 man, desolately, "cut off n my best 
 medder; takin it over to Bill Wilson s, 
 in Barnstable; he s short on hay this 
 year. I shan t cut nigh s much this 
 season." 
 
 "Oh, I m so sorry!" exclaimed 
 Amabel. 
 
 The man wheeled slowly about, his 
 great feet scarcely stirring in the dust 
 of the road. He stared a moment and 
 then he said: 
 
 "Be ye?" 
 
 "Yes, yes. It s too bad." 
 
 "Wall," ponderously, "it s all owin 
 to you, anyway." 
 
 "To me?" indignantly. 
 
 "Yeh; sure s a gun. I shouldn t er 
 dropped my match if you d been 
 ridin s you d oughter be n. " 
 
 Here a chuckle from Albert. The 
 man s furrowed old face actually 
 changed expression. 
 
 "D you think," he began again, 
 "that a feller c n see you ridin long 
 one er these Christian roads, settin 
 
 185
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 a straddle er your boss, n be respon 
 sible for droppin a lighted match onto 
 a load er hay? By gosh! if I d be n 
 on top er load er gunpowder I sh d 
 hev dropped my match jes the same. 
 N we d all be n bio wed to kingdom 
 come long fore this. We wouldn t be 
 standin here watchin my best English 
 hay burnin up. Wonder what my 
 wife 11 say. I ain t the man to want to 
 tell she that was Eunice Calkins bout 
 this fire. She ll want ter know the 
 partic lers, n I ain t the man that 
 feels like givin um to her. No, I 
 ain t. N she won t b lieve um, 
 either. She ll say I had some whisky. 
 Wish t I had, wish t 1 had sumpthin 
 that d make me unconscious for one 
 spell." 
 
 "Where do you live?" inquired 
 Amabel. 
 
 Just then a slow, dense wave of 
 smoke came from the cart and wrapped 
 us about. There was hardly a breath 
 of air. We coughed and withdrew still 
 
 186
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 farther. We had, before this, hitched 
 our horses at a distance. 
 
 "Where do you live?" again asked 
 Amabel. 
 
 "Jest beyend Yarmouth Station; 
 first house you come to stan s end to 
 the road ; painted yeller bout ten year 
 ago. You can t miss it. Ain t no 
 other round. Darn it darn it all, I 
 say to thunder!" 
 
 "I m sorry you lay it to me," said 
 Amabel, gently. "Was this hay very 
 valuable?" 
 
 "Twenty dollars a ton n I had 
 about six hunderdweight six hunderd 
 good. 
 
 Amabel turned to her brother. 
 "Albert," she said, "what is the .value 
 of 600 pounds of hay at $20 a ton?" 
 
 "Goose!" he replied; "twenty hun 
 dredweight makes one ton." 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 "Well," with some violence, "you 
 shan t pay for that hay you shan t do 
 it. You ain t to blame." 
 187
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "If she ain t, I sh d like to know 
 who is that s all I say," burst in the 
 owner of the hay. "Here I be a- 
 drivin long, innersunt as a lamb, n 
 all to once there comes long a woman 
 a-gallopin on a hoss jest as if she was 
 a man, n I drops my match on to the 
 hay; she couldn t hev made me drop it 
 no more if she d er jogged my elbow 
 n she did. I don t hold myself one 
 grain to blame but she that was 
 Eunice Calkins won t agree with me. 
 She never doos. Tain t in her calki- 
 lations to agree with me. Mebby the 
 cart ll go too! Dumbed if I care! 
 Hope the cart will go ! " 
 
 The speaker stood perfectly still 
 while he gave utterance to these 
 words, but his eyes glowed under his 
 grizzled tufts of brows. 
 
 "Am," cried Albert, sharply, "if you 
 undertake to pay I ll I ll telegraph to 
 pa from Yarmouth. You wanted to 
 ride this way, you know you did. If 
 you re going to begin to pay for every- 
 188
 
 . SAND N BUSHES 
 
 body s being interested in you as you go 
 on, I declare I ll make it hot for you!" 
 
 "You always make it hot for me," 
 was the mild response; "besides, it s 
 my own money that Aunt Ruth left 
 me in her will. If I can t spend money 
 that was left to me " 
 
 She did not finish her sentence. She 
 turned toward the man, who was 
 watching his hay burn; it was nearly 
 gone now. 
 
 "Is your house on the road to Den 
 nis?" she asked. 
 
 "Yeh, tis." 
 
 "We re going to Dennis. We ll 
 stop there. I ll explain to your wife. 
 If she also thinks I ought to pay, I 
 will. Perhaps we might better go 
 right on," to me, "and leave Albert 
 to follow." 
 
 And we did go right on. I, for one, 
 was very glad to go. We hurried. It 
 was pleasant when we had gone so far 
 that we couldn t smell the smoke of 
 that fire. 
 
 189
 
 SAND P N BUSHES 
 
 The silence between us continued so 
 long that at last I was obliged to 
 break it. 
 
 "You have begun well," I said. "I 
 wonder if your bill for damages will be 
 large by the time we reach Province- 
 town." 
 
 My friend glanced at me beseech 
 ingly. 
 
 "Don t!" she said, in a low voice. 
 
 I suppose she may know that when 
 she has that kind of look in her eyes I 
 can say no more. 
 
 We passed Yarmouth Station. The 
 trains are few down here, and there 
 was no train anywhere within sight or 
 hearing when we reached the place. 
 No train and no man, woman or child 
 visible. It was an excellent time for a 
 reformer to choose. I still believe that 
 Amabel dreaded this station, and that" 
 she drew a breath of relief when she 
 saw its solitary state. We went briskly 
 by, and then we began to expect to see 
 a house standing end to the road, and 
 190
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 that had "been painted yeller bout 
 ten year ago. 
 
 I don t know what were Amabel s 
 feeling s at the prospect of meeting she 
 that was Eunice Calkins; I know that 
 mine were not pleasant, but they were 
 exciting. 
 
 In ten minutes we came within sight 
 of a house. It was end to the road, 
 and there were signs of yellow paint 
 upon it. It stood in a large yard, 
 from which every blade of grass had 
 been plucked by the hens that were 
 roaming about. A lath fence inclosed 
 the whole. I need not say that there is 
 no power yet discovered that can make 
 a spot so desolate to look at as hens. 
 
 Even upon a June day this spot was 
 lonesome. 
 
 Our horses walked as we gazed. 
 
 " This is it, " said my friend. There 
 were two half-grown cockerels in the 
 foreground engaged in a fight. The 
 gravel flew from under their feet; one 
 of them was already bloody about the 
 191
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 head. The hens and pullets placidly 
 stepped around them, pecking dili 
 gently. Suddenly there was a napping 
 and shooing. A large woman came 
 hurriedly down the steps from the 
 front door. She was waving an apron 
 up and down. 
 
 "Now, you stop it you stop that, I 
 tell you ! Shoo ! Shoo ! I declare there 
 never was nothin s flat s a rooster, 
 thout tis a man! Here you be bout 
 big nough for br ilers n carryin on 
 like this. Shoo! I say!" 
 
 She had unfastened her apron by this 
 time and ran up to the fighting birds, 
 who slid away from her, but who con 
 tinued to make dives at each other. 
 She tried to flap her apron between 
 them. She suddenly stooped and 
 caught one by its legs and swung it, 
 shrieking, in the air. 
 
 "There, you!" she shouted. It was 
 at this moment that her eye caught us 
 as we sat on the horses the other side 
 of the laths. 
 
 193
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 She dropped the hand with the 
 rooster in it, and he hung gurgling and 
 gasping by her side as she came for 
 ward. 
 
 "How do you do?" asked Amabel. 
 
 "Torrable, " was the answer. 
 
 "Did you come for fowls or eggs? 
 We ve got settin s of pure Plymouth 
 Rocks n* Braymys. There ain t 
 no thin better; I ve be n in the busi 
 ness fifteen year n I ought to know. 
 Plymouth Rock s a good, all-round 
 fowl, but if you want meat take a 
 Braymy; though you ve got to wait for 
 a Braymy to grow. You can t have a 
 lot of meat thout waitin for it to 
 grow." 
 
 The woman was now standing just 
 the other side of the fence. 
 
 "We didn t come for fowls or eggs," 
 Amabel made answer. "We came" 
 here she hesitated and blushed. 
 
 "Do you like that way of ridin ?" 
 inquired the woman. 
 
 "I think I shall like it," humbly 
 193
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 responded my friend, "but Pve only 
 tried it for about an hour and a half. 
 
 "I always did say," said the woman 
 the other side of the fence, "that if I 
 ever rode horseback I d ride that way. 
 There ain t no sort of reason nor sense 
 in any other way." 
 
 Amabel blushed again, but this time 
 with pleasure. 
 
 "If these laths weren t here I would 
 ask to shake hands with you," she 
 explained. 
 
 "Wall, why can t ye come in n rest 
 ye?" cordially. "There ain t no law 
 aginst it, I guess. I ll open the gate. 
 We keep it locked cause somebody d 
 be sure to open it n let half the fowls 
 out. I shouldn t have a minute s 
 peace if I didn t keep it locked. Come 
 in. I ve got some fresh buttermilk. 
 Some folks think a lot of buttermilk, 
 but I call it hog wash myself. Tom 
 likes it, though. He s be n helpin me 
 churn, n he s be n drinkin the 
 buttermilk. 
 
 194
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 She swung open a gate wide enough 
 for a carriage. The wicked rooster was 
 still dangling from her hand and occa 
 sionally making its gurgling sound. 
 
 We rode in; the hens hustled away 
 before us ; from somewhere in the rear 
 we heard the startled quacking of 
 ducks. A flock of fan-tailed pigeons 
 flew up into sight from the gable end 
 of a barn that was visible as we fol 
 lowed our hostess. 
 
 Amabel turned her head toward me. 
 
 "It s all so different from what I 
 expected," she said, hurriedly. "Do 
 you think she is " 
 
 "Come right into the barn," called 
 the woman, " n get off." 
 
 She opened the door of a small coop, 
 thrust in the rooster, slammed the door 
 and hooked it, leaving the bird in soli 
 tary confinement. Before the door 
 was really shut we heard him crowing, 
 hoarsely and immaturely. The woman 
 laughed. 
 
 "He s a reg lar fighter," she re- 
 195
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 marked, "but fighters ain t good for 
 much either for meat nor eggs. You 
 wait a minute," to us, " n I ll bring 
 a stool or here s a carpenter s hoss; 
 I do considerable carpent rin myself 
 my husband s one of them kind that 
 can t drive a nail takes hold of the 
 hammer way up on the handle, you 
 know. It jest makes me sick to see 
 him with a hammer." 
 
 While she was speaking she had 
 placed the wooden horse by Amabel s 
 horse and Amabel alighted; she said 
 afterward that she didn t know how she 
 ever did it, but she thought that hav 
 ing done it once she could do it again. 
 
 "I tell you what tis," said the 
 woman, "I m mighty glad that some 
 body s got a grain of common sense," 
 looking pointedly away from me and at 
 Amabel. "Now, come in. You look 
 hot. It s a dretful pleasant time of 
 year, ain t it? If twan t for my hens, 
 n ducks, n things I d like to go off 
 somewhere myself. Se down, do." 
 196
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 We were in the kitchen. "It s cooler 
 here this time of day. Tom, raising 
 her voice, "can t you bring in a pitcher 
 of buttermilk n some tumblers?" 
 
 We heard a sound in what seemed to 
 be a shed. Then there entered, not a 
 boy, as we had expected, but a tall 
 young man in sweater, and long stock 
 ings, and wheeling shoes. He bore a 
 board on which stood a pitcher and 
 glasses. His closely shorn head was 
 bare; from his extremely brown face 
 his eyes twinkled greatly. He laughed 
 as he saw us. He scraped one foot 
 behind him and said : 
 
 "Servant, ladies." 
 
 We stared, and then we also laughed. 
 Reader, we have met this young man 
 before, for his name is Thomas J. 
 Riddle. 
 
 197
 
 VIII 
 
 AT TWENTY DOLLARS A TON 
 
 "You see," said Mr. Riddle, as we 
 took our buttermilk, "there really is 
 but one road to the Cape, and we re 
 all on it ; consequently we re bound to 
 meet now and then; I hope you won t 
 mind it very much." 
 
 "But I thought you were to stop in 
 Middleborough at the lakes," said 
 Amabel. 
 
 "So I did, a half hour or so." 
 Then something seemed to amuse Mr. 
 Riddle, for he smiled to himself, as it 
 were, gazing into his tumbler of butter 
 milk as he did so. 
 
 "Tom s goin down to the Cape to 
 learn his part," remarked our hostess, 
 with some pride. 
 
 We glanced at the young man, but 
 199
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 we did not think it proper to manifest 
 our surprise and curiosity by any 
 words. 
 
 "Tom s in a theaytre," went on the 
 woman. "I tell him I shan t know 
 bime-by whether he s in earnest or only 
 actin . Much as ever I could tell, any 
 way." 
 
 Mr. Riddle laughed again. 
 
 "Aunt Eunice can t decide whether 
 she ought to be proud or ashamed of 
 me. When I come out as the first 
 actor in America, she ll be just as 
 undecided. You see, tisn t the fame, 
 it s the profession that influences her." 
 
 He glanced at Amabel, who said: 
 "Yes?" tentatively, and then, with 
 more animation, "That s why you 
 thought of painting it out, I suppose." 
 
 "I beg your pardon." 
 
 "Oh," returned Amabel, in some 
 confusion, "I ought not to have men 
 tioned it. Miss Langthorne s cheek, 
 you know, where the kitten scratched 
 her. I thought twas so odd."
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, I see." Mr. Riddle came 
 nearer to Amabel and sat down on a 
 stool. "I make up so much that natur 
 ally I thought that she could easily hide 
 that scratch. She looked lovely at 
 General Jones s, didn t she?" with 
 some enthusiasm. 
 
 "Very," replied Amabel, without 
 any enthusiasm. 
 
 "Jones married my cousin for his 
 second wife," explained Mr. Riddle. 
 "I go there when I m in these diggings. 
 I left my evening suit there last week ; 
 that s why I was so fine the other even 
 ing. It was rather embarrassing to 
 be the finest fellow at the lawn party. " 
 
 Mr. Riddle laughed so heartily that 
 we all joined him. In the midst of this 
 hilarity Amabel suddenly grew grave, 
 and exclaimed: 
 
 "Oh, I d forgotten!" 
 
 Mr. Riddle instantly became grave 
 also. 
 
 "Anything of importance?" he asked. 
 
 "Yes, yes. We ought to have
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 spoken of it immediately. She turned 
 to me and asked, reproachfully, "Why 
 didn t you mention it?" 
 
 "I was waiting for you," I replied. 
 
 Amabel rose and went to our hostess, 
 who was standing in the doorway. 
 Amabel put a hand on the big arm 
 near her. 
 
 "I don t know as you ll speak to us 
 after I ve told you," began Amabel. 
 
 "Good gracious!" 
 
 "But I feel that we re deceiving you. 
 And we ve drank your buttermilk, you 
 know." 
 
 "My sakes!" 
 
 These exclamations were fired off in 
 a disconcerting way. 
 
 "And you approved of having the 
 weight distributed evenly on the horse s 
 back and oh, I wish you would tell 
 us if you really are she that was Eunice 
 Calkins please!" 
 
 "Yes, I be. But I don t see what 
 that has to do with " 
 
 "Oh, yes, it has everything to do
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 with it. You might have been some 
 body else, you know. And this house 
 ends to the road, and was painted yel 
 low. I was afraid that we might be 
 mistaken, but we re not. You see, 
 Mrs. Mrs. 
 
 "My husband s name is Doane," with 
 some severity. 
 
 "Mrs Doane, we ve been and burned 
 up your husband s hay that he was 
 taking to Bill Wilson, in Barnstable." 
 
 "Speak for yourself, Amabel," I 
 said. 
 
 "I will," courageously. "I don t 
 want to be mean. I ve burned the hay 
 six hundred pounds at $20 a ton. 
 Albert says that twenty hundredweight 
 make one ton. If I had a pencil and a 
 bit of paper I could soon find out how 
 much that would be a pound." 
 
 Here Mrs. Doane walked heavily 
 across the room and sat down. There 
 was an apprehensive expression upon 
 her large face. She folded her arms 
 tightly in front of her. 
 203
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "What made you burn the hay?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Mr. Riddle was leaning forward with 
 his elbows on his knees. He was look 
 ing at Amabel. I heard him murmur : 
 
 "Jolly good pose." 
 
 "I ll tell you about it," eagerly. 
 
 "You d better. As tis now, I sh d 
 almost think you d come from a 
 sylum." 
 
 "Oh, no! I m just as sane as ever I 
 was. We were riding along " 
 
 "Where is Mr. Doane now?" 
 
 "Back there somewhere; he and my 
 brother. They re going to try to save 
 the cart, and 
 
 "Oh, you didn t burn the cart, then?" 
 
 "No; at least, I don t think we 
 I did. We were 
 
 "Did Mr. Doane git singed any?" 
 
 Here Mr. Riddle suddenly covered 
 his face with his hands. His shoulders 
 shook, but I cannot state whether he 
 was laughing or crying. 
 
 "No; I don t think he did. I pulled 
 204.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 him off the load. You see, it was 
 blazing, and " 
 
 "He didn t know enough to git 
 down?" 
 
 "No; he didn t seem to. But I got 
 him off. You see," and Amabel began 
 to speak very fast, indeed, as if fearing 
 another interruption, "we were riding 
 along, my brother on a wheel, and we 
 met Mr. Doane on a load of hay. He 
 was lighting his pipe, and when he 
 saw me he dropped his match on the 
 hay and it blazed right up, of course. 
 
 "Enoch always was a bright man!" 
 cried his wife. 
 
 "Mr. Doane was so interested in 
 seeing me that he seemed to forget to 
 get off the load. 
 
 "He s too bright to live!" cried his 
 wife. 
 
 Mr. Riddle still kept his face covered. 
 
 "Of course we couldn t put it out 
 the fire, I mean, and we stood round 
 and saw it burn. We saved the horse. 
 Mr. Doane said it was all my fault.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 He called me responsible. He said if 
 he d been on a load of gunpowder and 
 had seen me coming along weight 
 evenly distributed, you know he 
 should have dropped his match just the 
 same." 
 
 Here a stifled noise from Mr. Riddle. 
 
 "I offered to pay for the hay, since 
 he felt like that, but my brother 
 objected. Finally I said that if if she 
 that was Eunice Calkins thought I 
 ought to pay, I d do it. And I will." 
 
 Amabel advanced to a chair and took 
 a firm grip of the back of it. Her 
 cheeks were burning; her eyes shone 
 with her high resolve. 
 
 Mr. Riddle had now raised his head. 
 He was solemnly gazing at Amabel. 
 
 Mrs. Doane rose. She glanced at 
 her nephew. 
 
 "Tom," she said, "shouldn t you be 
 everlastin ly ashamed of me if I took 
 that money?" 
 
 "Oh, I know what you ll do, Aunt 
 Eunice," was the reply. 
 206
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I ll bet you do. I ain t so far gone 
 as Enoch Doane is not yet. He never 
 hit the nail on the head in his life. 
 You shan t pay a cent. My sakes! 
 When s that man comin home?" 
 
 "He didn t say. I don t care so 
 much for the money, though I haven t 
 much, as I do for the principle of the 
 thing," said Amabel, plaintively. "I 
 should like to know if you think I was 
 to blame. I can t go on along down 
 the Cape spreading disaster, you know. 
 I can t be responsible. I can give up 
 going, if necessary, but if I go I must 
 ride just as I please. You see, Mrs. 
 Doane, it s a principle. And I m a 
 member of the Society for the Sup 
 pression of Cruelty to Animals. And, 
 Mrs. Doane, I wanted to tell you at the 
 time, but I hadn t the moral courage, 
 that you ought not to carry a fowl with 
 its head hanging down. It isn t 
 natural; it s unkind. It must confuse 
 the fowl extremely." 
 
 Mrs. Doane gave a short laugh. 
 207
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I guess," she said, "I won t spend 
 my time thinkin of them roosters jest 
 now. There s Enoch Doane to be 
 considered. Besides, the roosters are 
 used to it. They don t know nough to 
 sense whether their heads are up or 
 down. It s all one to them. N 
 Enoch Doane s a good deal like um. 
 I ve got a few words I d like to speak 
 to him. D you say he was on his 
 way?" 
 
 "I think he is." 
 
 Amabel s face wore an expression of 
 perplexity and distress. 
 
 "Mebby, " said the wife, sarcastic 
 ally, "he s a-stayin to see the cart 
 burn." 
 
 "Somehow, I feel to blame," ex 
 claimed Amabel. "I shall be happier 
 if I pay for the hay. 
 
 She began to try to find a pocket in 
 her skirt; then she remembered that 
 this was not the old skirt that she was 
 wearing, but a divided one, into which 
 no pocket had been sewed She colored 
 208
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 deeply, her eyes fell; she sank down 
 quickly in the nearest chair, crossed her 
 feet, and sat gazing at them. 
 
 In the silence that followed we heard 
 the comfortable little sounds made by 
 the hens as they walked about in front 
 of the open door. A mother Plymouth 
 Rock paused at the step and clucked 
 frantically; her brood of speckled 
 things came rushing up full of eager 
 inquiry. 
 
 Before any one spoke and while 
 Amabel was satisfying herself that her 
 purse was not in one of her jacket 
 pockets, there came another sound that 
 made Mrs. Doane rise to her feet with 
 significant promptness. 
 
 It was the sound of wheels moving 
 slowly over the sandy road. 
 
 We all rose in the next moment, with 
 faces turned toward the door. We 
 heard the lath gate swing open, then 
 the immature voice of Albert saying 
 something indistinguishable; then the 
 wheels came nearer. They went on to 
 209
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 the barn, which stood a little back of 
 the house. 
 
 Mrs. Doane walked out of the room ; 
 she took hasty, long steps. We all 
 felt an exciting sense of something. I 
 have a temptation to state that the air 
 was lurid. Mr. Riddle glanced at me 
 and murmured: 
 
 "Red and green fire at the wings 
 high light following the figure of Enoch 
 Doane s wife." 
 
 Then the young man rose. 
 
 "I ought to protect Doane," he said. 
 "Please come with me." 
 
 We followed him, keeping a few 
 paces behind. In the barnyard we 
 found that the fantailed pigeons, being 
 tame, had come in a body to examine 
 the charred condition of the farm 
 wagon. 
 
 Albert s wheel was lying in the bot 
 tom of the cart; he and Mr. Doane 
 were still standing in the cart when we 
 all emerged upon the scene. 
 
 "Wall, Eunice, here I be," said Mr. 
 
 3 IP
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Doane, with an attempt at joviality 
 that was nothing less than heartrend 
 ing to us who might be called disinter 
 ested spectators. 
 
 "Met with a little accident, s you 
 might say; but I guess the cart s good 
 for consid able more yet." 
 
 He put one blackened hand on the 
 horse s haunch and carefully de 
 scended to the ground. Albert 
 jumped out over the side, and ran to 
 begin to unharness. I saw him make 
 up his mouth to whistle when he had 
 recognized Mr. Riddle. 
 
 Mrs. Doane came boldly into the 
 foreground. I felt that I could greatly 
 like this woman who had been born a 
 Calkins, but at this moment I was sorry 
 for Enoch Doane. He was unbuckling 
 the reins ; he pulled one strap through 
 the ring at the bits. 
 
 "I guess the cart s good for con- 
 
 sid able more yet," he repeated; and 
 
 he tried to laugh ingratiatingly. He 
 
 added: "We saved the cart. We had 
 
 211
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 to work desp rit hard, but we saved it. 
 That s one thing to be thankful for." 
 
 "What d you save the cart from?" 
 Mrs. Doane put this question. She 
 went on to say that it was "dretful 
 hard to have patience with some kinds 
 of fools." 
 
 "Saved it from fire," replied Mr. 
 Doane, quaveringly, " n we had to 
 work desp rit hard to do it." 
 
 He led the horse forward, and the 
 shafts dropped with a clatter to the 
 ground. The doves fluttered upward, 
 but came back directly. 
 
 Mr. Riddle suddenly stepped to the 
 front. He put his arm about Mrs. 
 Doane. 
 
 "Come now, Aunt Eunice, let s let 
 the poor man go this time. Of course, 
 he s an idiot ; you see, a poor manbody 
 has to work awfully hard not to be an 
 idiot." 
 
 Mrs. Doane s face softened a very 
 little. 
 
 "I wasn t going to say much of any-
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 thing," she replied, "but I guess you 
 don t know about your Uncle Enoch. 
 But what s the use" with a large 
 gesture of her right hand. "Long s I 
 married him, I ought to put up with 
 him." 
 
 Here the speaker turned toward us 
 and smiled as she said: 
 
 "That s jest the amount of marriage 
 
 tain t nothin but a puttin up with 
 things you can t help." 
 
 Mr. Doane disappeared within the 
 barn and Albert followed him. 
 
 "I wish you folks would stay n 
 have some luncheon," went on Mrs. 
 Doane. "Enoch he s got some cider 
 he bottled last fall. I will say for him 
 that he does know how to bottle cider. 
 It s prime. Tom, you go down cellar 
 n git three or four bottles n put um 
 in the ice chest. " 
 
 Mr. Riddle disappeared. We re 
 turned to the house. Amabel, who 
 has a peculiar way of making herself at 
 home when she chooses, was soon 
 213
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 kindling a fire in the kitchen stove; 
 then she beat eggs for the omelet which 
 she offered to make, an omelet with 
 fine herbs, and Mr. Riddle brought the 
 herbs from the attic and waited upon 
 Amabel with assiduity. Mr. Doane 
 finally came in and began to scrub him 
 self with yellow soap and water at the 
 sink, emerging from the process very 
 red and hopeful. I heard him tell 
 Amabel in an undertone that she 
 needn t mind paying for that hay. 
 He d thought over the matter and he 
 guessed Eunice was right bout idiots 
 and men. Here he grinned and 
 lumbered away. 
 
 It was all very enjoyable idyllic, 
 Amabel called it, and perhaps she was 
 right. The windows and doors of the 
 kitchen were open; the scents of the 
 June day came in ; there was an apple 
 orchard at the back of the house, and 
 there were robins rearing families in 
 the orchard. At Mr. Riddle s request 
 the table was not set, but he carried 
 214
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 about plates and napkins and bread and 
 doughnuts, and spoonfuls of omelet on 
 the plates, and there were thick tum 
 blers with cider in them. We ate and 
 drank, and Mr. Doane became very 
 much at his ease, and made some 
 obscure jokes which no one understood 
 until they had been explained, and 
 then \ve all laughed boisterously. 
 Everything was so unexpected that we 
 were very happy. 
 
 At the end of the feast Mrs. Doane 
 asked her nephew if he wouldn t 
 "recite something." 
 
 This request sobered the young man 
 immediately. 
 
 "The Blood Drinker s Burial," sug 
 gested Amabel. "We have been too 
 
 Mr. Riddle rose and went to the end 
 of the room which was the most in 
 shadow, and began about "The Fair 
 Imogene," and went on concerning the 
 worms that gnawed her, not sparing us 
 a single detail, and he did it so 
 215
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 sepulchrally that I was angry with 
 him, and wished to tell him that he 
 ought to have known better. 
 
 Mrs. Doane informed him when he 
 was through with his recital that she 
 was sorry she had. asked him, and that 
 now she felt obliged to do something to 
 take the taste of those worms away. 
 
 She rose and opened a stand drawer. 
 She took out a jewsharp and wiped it 
 carefully with her apron. She glanced 
 toward her husband. 
 
 "S pos n we try Money Musk, 
 Enoch? she said. "Or have you got so 
 old n stiff you can t do it any more?" 
 
 Mr. Doane nodded. He also pulled 
 open the stand drawer and took from 
 it what we call a "coarse comb" not 
 so very coarse, either, but, as Mr. 
 Doane afterward said, "about mejum. " 
 He then went to a closet and selected a 
 fragment from a carefully preserved 
 store of brown wrapping paper. This 
 fragment he adjusted over the teeth 
 of the comb. He placed himself just 
 216
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 behind his wife s chair, tried his instru 
 ment by a few preliminary toots with 
 his lips pressed upon the paper-covered 
 comb. Then he said : 
 
 "All aboard, Ma. Fire away!" 
 
 If you have never heard the tripping 
 measure of "Money Musk" played 
 upon a jewsharp and a comb, you have 
 no idea of the entertainment we now 
 enjoyed. 
 
 Mr. Riddle got up and danced, 
 mostly on his toes, with an occasional 
 accentuated stamp down on his heels, 
 gyrating about the room. Albert 
 cried out, "Oh, if I only had my 
 bones!" referring, not to his own 
 anatomy, but to so-called musical 
 instruments which he had left at home. 
 
 It was a very pleasant hour, and 
 when at last we were on our way 
 again, Amabel avowed an intention of 
 writing it up in what she called her 
 day book. This is something in blank 
 writing paper bound in olive green ; it 
 is more than two inches thick, but it 
 217
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 has not what Amabel denominates a 
 large acreage. Sometimes, when we 
 have reached a temporary stopping- 
 place, my friend takes a small pencil 
 from its socket at the edge of the 
 cover and writes in her day book. 
 From the first I have been very curious 
 to know what is put down in those 
 pages. When I question her, Amabel 
 makes answer that she is writing for 
 posterity. I am half resolved that I 
 will anticipate posterity. 
 
 Now we cantered comfortably away 
 from the Doanes toward Dennis. We 
 left the railroad at our right and fol 
 lowed the stage route to East Dennis. 
 When it was practicable we had re 
 solved to keep as near the coast as 
 possible. As Albert asserted, it was 
 the shore and the sea we were after. 
 Perhaps there is no place in the world 
 where one can get so much shore and 
 sea as when traveling on the Massa 
 chusetts peninsula below Brewster. 
 But we could not get too much. It was 
 218
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 glorious to feel that when the wind 
 came from the west and the south it 
 was sweeping over the salt water; 
 when it came from the east or the 
 north it was also from the salt water. 
 The scent of the brine was strong in 
 our nostrils. That salt dampness must 
 be very good for the growth of the 
 cranberry. The Cape Cod cranberry 
 commands the highest price in the 
 market. Amabel put this item down 
 in her day book; she said it was 
 almost the only plain fact she had yet 
 recorded. She informed me that she 
 did not "go in for facts so much as for 
 suggested ideas; anybody could make 
 a collection of facts. 
 
 The inference was that suggested 
 ideas were not so easily caught. It was 
 pleasant riding along this almost soli 
 tary road with little save crows and 
 chipmunks to look at us. The robins 
 and bluebirds noticed us little. The 
 "going" was rather heavy, and was 
 growing heavier. But we who were 
 219
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 riding horses did not particularly mind 
 this. Albert, however, began to labor. 
 He puffed and groaned as his feet 
 forced the wheels round through the 
 sand. His sister professed not to pity 
 him. Now was her hour of triumph. 
 
 "You knew," she said, "that we 
 were coming down on the Cape; you 
 knew that it wasn t a wheel that you 
 needed, but a horse. Now aren t you 
 sorry for what you ve said about our 
 horses? The scoffer is frequently 
 punished." 
 
 "Oh, shut up, can t you?" was the 
 response. 
 
 For many weary half-miles Albert 
 walked beside his wheel, frequently 
 mopping his face. Sometimes there 
 would be a little stretch where the way 
 was more solid, then he pedaled with 
 an air of exultation. 
 
 "I wonder how Riddle s going to get 
 over these tarnal roads," said Albert. 
 
 We had wondered also. Mr. Riddle 
 had bidden us an apparently eternal 
 220
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 farewell when we had left Mrs. 
 Doane s house that ended to the road. 
 Speaking strictly for myself, I had 
 liked Mr. Riddle very much better 
 since I had seen him dance "Money 
 Musk" by the music of the jewsharp 
 and comb. I liked him, but I could be 
 perfectly reconciled if I never met 
 him again. It was, therefore, with no 
 wild thrill of joy that, when we rode 
 up to the public house at Wellfleet, the 
 first object I saw distinctly was a tall 
 figure in knickerbockers leaning 
 against the frame of the door. This 
 figure was one of some half a dozen, 
 but the others I saw vaguely. 
 
 Mr. Riddle came promptly forward. 
 There was something in his manner, as 
 he hastened to Amabel s side, that 
 hinted that he, for one, was perfectly 
 accustomed to seeing women ride horse 
 back in that way, and that those people 
 who stared and were surprised, not to 
 say shocked, at this position, were 
 people who really did not know what 
 
 221
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 women were doing in the great world 
 that was outside the Cape. 
 
 This impressiveness of Mr. Riddle 
 continued as he accompanied Amabel 
 up the steps, carrying his cap in his 
 hand. He was bending his head 
 toward her and laughing at something 
 she had said. 
 
 Albert compassionately came to my 
 side to see that my skirt did not catch 
 on the horn as I dismounted. I told 
 him distinctly that I could dismount 
 perfectly well alone and that he 
 needn t trouble himself. 
 
 In the bit of a parlor Mr. Riddle was 
 still laughing, and Amabel was smil 
 ing. I wondered what it was that was 
 so amusing. The young man ex 
 plained that he had come on ahead of 
 us and had dropped a word all along 
 the way about the millionaire heiress 
 who had resolved to take a horseback 
 ride on a man s saddle. She had 
 exhausted every known amusement, 
 and had taken a fancy to try this, and 
 222
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 to act as if she were not a millionaire 
 heiress. 
 
 "I told em," said Mr. Riddle, "that 
 she had been bothered to death to 
 think of ways in which to spend 
 her money so fast that it shouldn t 
 rot. Now, hasn t everybody been 
 respectful, tell me that? Paralyzed 
 with curiosity, of course, but respect 
 ful. And I ve dropped a word as 
 to a prospect that the heiress might 
 buy up the country from Orleans down 
 to Race Point and make it into one 
 vast cranberry bog. Wipe out the 
 towns, you know; plant cranberries 
 right through. The price of land has 
 gone up ten per cent within twenty- 
 four hours. Don t buy now, while the 
 boom is on, Miss Waldo; wait." 
 
 He turned to Amabel with this advice. 
 
 A girl with the largest puffs 1 had 
 yet seen on sleeves now appeared at 
 the door and asked if we would like to 
 see the rooms. Amabel and I fol 
 lowed the sleeves and their wearer up 
 223
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 the stairs. We selected a room from 
 whose windows we had a view of 
 Wellfleet Bay and its sheltering line of 
 islands, and beyond, the wider stretch 
 of Cape Cod Bay, where there were 
 long swells, the tops here and there 
 breaking into white foam, for the tide 
 had turned to come in and the wind 
 was "veering." 
 
 The next day we meant to reach 
 Provincetown. Our rooms were en 
 gaged for an indefinite time at the 
 Pacific House. We had engaged 
 rooms there because a friend who had 
 been there assured us that the landlord 
 of that hotel not only knew how fish 
 ought to be cooked, but that he cooked 
 them himself, and that the place 
 wasn t "stylish." We said we could 
 endure anything but style. 
 
 Meantime, here we were in Wellfleet, 
 which is a place "of sandhills and pine 
 plains, among which are fifteen fresh 
 water ponds; and the climate is re 
 markably healthy. 
 224
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 It seemed a good locality in which to 
 remain. We could not reasonably 
 expect anywhere else so many fresh 
 water ponds in so small a space. Town 
 incorporated in 1763. Population, 
 968. Registered voters, 268. One can 
 judge at once how small a proportion 
 of the inhabitants govern the rest, who 
 are presumably idiots and women 
 and children. Valuation, $670,165 ; rate 
 of taxation, $8. No debt. No license. 
 
 It will be seen that this was an excel 
 lent spot whereon an errant heiress 
 might pitch her tent, particularly if she 
 were economically inclined ; one might 
 save a great deal of money in Wellfleet ; 
 and if one dwelt here long enough an 
 occupation might be chosen there is a 
 choice between cranberry culture, 
 farming, fishing and the making of 
 razor-strops. Perhaps the latter busi 
 ness is particularly exhilarating. This 
 was the first time in her life, Amabel 
 said, that she had traced the razor strop 
 to its lair. 
 
 225
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 We liked those wide, flat stretches of 
 cranberry bog intersected by the nar 
 row ditches. The salt wind blew 
 across these flats with a freedom that 
 gave one a deeper breath ; the color in 
 mass is a curious gray-green; unless 
 the vines are thickly grown the sand 
 gleams below the leaves. Later, when 
 the red berries have grown, I should 
 like to come down here and pick them 
 at so much a quart; but I would not 
 wish to be the one of a long line of 
 pickers ; I would like to be by myself, 
 with not a human being in sight on the 
 whole flat. The wind should rush over 
 from the Atlantic Ocean to Cape Cod 
 Bay for me alone ; I would be the only 
 one to see the lovely tints that the 
 autumn lays upon this coast pale tints 
 no suggestion of a rich life, but 
 charming beyond any opulence of 
 color. 
 
 If we had not wished to go to the 
 land s end we might have remained a 
 long time in Wellfleet. It is, as one 
 226
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 might say, the gate of the land s end; 
 from here the sea grows even more 
 intimate, the salt stronger. But this 
 town shows its decadence in a sort of 
 sad cheerfulness. The number of 
 inhabitants is growing smaller and 
 smaller, notwithstanding that it is so 
 healthy here. It is not even a resort. 
 I should hesitate to say for what a small 
 sum we could buy a house with the bay 
 in sight from its upper windows; "two 
 stories, blinded, with piazza, in good 
 repair, only needing paint. 
 
 I have had a secret longing for that 
 house ever since I saw it. How salt 
 the wind that blows about it! How 
 full of memories of that sea cap n and 
 his family who all now sleep in the 
 burial yard ! And over the burial yard 
 blows that same salt wind. 
 
 227
 
 IX 
 
 PROVINCETOWN AND THE 
 
 GONZ AG AS 
 
 The next morning, when we wakened 
 in Wellfleet, while we were thinking 
 we ought to rise and yet could not 
 quite resolve to do it, I asked Amabel 
 if she thought it was in any way 
 remarkable that Mr. Thomas J. Rid 
 dle seemed to pervade our journey to 
 Provincetown. 
 
 She was evidently very sleepy, for I 
 could but just understand her reply, 
 which was to the effect that of course 
 any one who was going to the Cape by 
 any other conveyance than the steam 
 cars, that is, by land, would naturally 
 be "met up with" often by others who 
 were traveling in the same direction. 
 229
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "No," quite to the point now, "I don t 
 think it remarkable. 
 
 I was silent a moment. Then I 
 wondered aloud if Miss Lily Lang- 
 thorne and her friend Sue were 
 coming down any further than Mid- 
 dleborough; and if they were, did 
 Thomas J. Riddle know it? I was aware 
 that this was turning the drift of the 
 conversation very decidedly. 
 
 Amabel laughed. She asked if it 
 wouldn t be funny if Miss Lang- 
 thorne s spine should require the air of 
 Provincetown. 
 
 Then the last bell for breakfast rang, 
 and the subject was dropped. After a 
 short time Amabel hurriedly made an 
 entry in her day book. Overcome by 
 curiosity, I allowed myself an inquiry. 
 
 "Have you mentioned the recurrence 
 of Mr. Riddle?" She paused and 
 looked up at me, the top of her pencil 
 at her lips. 
 
 "I was just putting down that you 
 seemed peculiarly interested in a 
 230
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 young man by the name of Riddle who 
 was apparently indigenous along 
 through the Cape region. 
 
 "I?" was all I could gasp in response 
 "Interested?" 
 
 Just then a hurry of feet sounded in 
 the hall, and a rattling knock came on 
 our door. 
 
 "I say, Am, your breakfast won t be 
 worth a cent fish cold Johnny cakes 
 ditto. Do come down. Never mind 
 crimping!" 
 
 This last advice Albert shouted. 
 
 Amabel, who was dressed, stepped 
 quickly outside. I don t know what 
 she said, but when she returned she 
 remarked that if there was any age in 
 which a boy was particularly attractive, 
 it was from fourteen to sixteen; still 
 she did not think that Albert ought to 
 have left his studies at this time. 
 
 When we descended the stairs we 
 found that Mr. Riddle had not break 
 fasted, and by a coincidence that s 
 what he called it he was just ready 
 231
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 for his morning meal. So we all par 
 took of this meal together. I was so 
 hungry that at first I did not attempt 
 to keep run of the talk, but when I did 
 come to a realizing sense of it, I heard 
 Mr. Riddle saying that he knew the 
 roads were not good, but he had de 
 cided not to go on by rail, for Albert 
 had thought they two could manage 
 somehow to pedal down to Province- 
 town; and if they couldn t, why, they 
 could always walk. There was 
 Thoreau now, he must have had no end 
 of a good time tramping down this 
 peninsula. Didn t Miss Waldo think 
 so? 
 
 I turned my head and glanced so 
 emphatically at Amabel that she 
 floundered in her reply, and must have 
 given the impression that she had 
 never heard of Thoreau; and isn t his 
 Cape Cod the one book that is for sale 
 alongside the clam-shells with sea 
 scenes painted on them, and the 
 photographs of this or that curve of 
 232
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 shore with a wreck half -hidden by the 
 sand? For, alas, there will always be 
 plenty of wrecks on this coast. 
 
 Before noon we were plodding along 
 the main road in Truro township, the 
 one main road that runs like an artery 
 through this narrow strip of land, but 
 it is so lonely that one fails to feel any 
 leaping of blood. 
 
 Why does one so love this sandy 
 desert of a place? What is that undy 
 ing charm that draws and holds one? 
 
 This is the town that was settled in 
 1700, and they called it Dangerfield, 
 "as it has perhaps the most fatal coast 
 in New England." 
 
 We went out of our way, through the 
 heavy sand, that we might see that 
 beach where the British frigate 
 Somerset was thrown in 1778. The 
 people hereabouts were alive to the 
 advantage of having an enemy s ship 
 wrecked under their very noses in time 
 of war. And it was not so long since 
 the Declaration of Independence when 
 233
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 these red coats were washed ashore. 
 The people turned out and rescued 480 
 of these soldiers, and at the same time 
 that they rescued them they made them 
 prisoners. 
 
 "It must have been a thundering 
 jolly good time," cried Albert, leaning 
 on his wheel. "There ain t any such 
 times now. What s the use of wearing 
 a dirk if you can t ever use it? And 
 your bowie-knife, Am" he looked at 
 his sister with a grin. 
 
 "I don t suppose," said Amabel, 
 "that if you saved a man from drown 
 ing you d use your dirk on him." 
 
 "If he were a pirate," responded 
 the boy, meditatively. 
 
 But no one made any response. We 
 were all gazing off seaward, and I, for 
 one, could see dimly the coast of Spain 
 rising up in the blue distance. I 
 could even make out some of the 
 turrets of my castle there, faintly pur 
 ple, but sun-tipped on the battlements 
 always sun-tipped on the battlements. 
 234
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 The wind had come out east again ; 
 but there was no cloud ; everything was 
 boldly and clearly projected. The 
 waves raced in, then sucked back 
 slowly, every arm of spray they flung 
 up as they came and went seeming to 
 fling at us a stronger whiff of salt. 
 
 Our horses stood up very straight, 
 taking in the air hoarsely. The Thane 
 pawed an impatient foot in the sand. 
 Just now he had the appearance of a 
 horse that could go very fast indeed, if 
 his rider would only allow him to do so. 
 
 It took us a long time to get to 
 Provincetowh ; not only was the sand 
 deep, but we stopped often to gaze at 
 the ocean ; one cannot very well cease 
 from gazing at the ocean. I had a 
 feeling that I had never been so near 
 the sea before; we were encompassed 
 by it, we had gone to sea without hav 
 ing embarked in any ship. We would 
 not have been surprised if this bit of 
 land had detached itself and floated off, 
 perhaps to that vague Atlantic which 
 235
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 would be a fit landing-place for a craft 
 such as this would be. 
 
 I must say for Mr. Riddle that he 
 behaved himself very well at this time. 
 He did not talk much, and he did not 
 instruct us at all. I am always so 
 grateful to those who don t try to 
 instruct. I can sit down in my own 
 room with a book of facts at any time. 
 Albert gathers a large number of 
 items concerning the towns we pass 
 through, and he is likely to fire off one 
 an item at any moment ; sometimes 
 he hits us, and sometimes he does not; 
 in either case, his satisfaction is much 
 the same. 
 
 At last we entered Provincetown, on 
 the one road by which it is possible to 
 enter, the highway that shares the 
 neck of land with the railroad. People 
 say they smell fish all the time in 
 Provincetown, but we didn t there 
 was nothing but the one grand odor of 
 the ocean, and it was enough. 
 
 Off the street that runs along by the 
 236
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 wharves, in a sort of alley, there is an 
 inn kept by a Portuguese, who has 
 chosen to take the name of Jones per 
 haps in his ignorance when he first 
 came here, he thought that Jones was 
 an unusual and high-sounding name; 
 it may have appealed to his sense of 
 the romantic, as some names will at 
 any rate, he is Jones now, but he looks 
 foreign and handsome, even though he 
 has grown stout and gray and well-to- 
 do. Have I not said that we have been 
 advised to go to the Pacific House? 
 
 Our cavalcade of two horses and two 
 bicycles drew up in rather good form 
 in front of the house. There were the 
 usual smokers on the piazza ; the usual 
 slim young man, with a novel and a 
 cigarette, sprawling in a hammock ; one 
 elderly lady and one girl, each in a 
 rocker, also with novels. 
 
 Everybody sat up straight. The 
 
 young man in the hammock struggled 
 
 and succeeded in flinging his feet on 
 
 to the floor. And all stared at us, at 
 
 237
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Amabel, I ought to say It was a try 
 ing moment. I cast a furtive glance 
 at my friend, and was relieved to find 
 that her face was impassive. 
 
 Mr. Riddle flashed a look at me ; this 
 look was so brief that I was not quite 
 sure about it, when I came to think it 
 over later. Then he sprang forward 
 with a great air of deference to assist 
 Amabel to alight. There was a per 
 fect hush on the piazza. In the midst 
 of it a rotund man with a grizzled mus 
 tache and very bright black eyes 
 came forward. He had on a white 
 linen coat and apron; he was the 
 landlord. 
 
 We were grouped together at the 
 entrance now. 
 
 "You all vish rooms, or just one 
 suppaire?" he asked. 
 
 "We are going to stay a while at 
 Provincetown look about us, you 
 know," responded Mr. Riddle, 
 promptly, and as if he were a drummer 
 who had a box of samples in the back- 
 238
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 ground. "I hope you can give these 
 ladies a good room. As for myself 
 and the young man here," indicating 
 Albert with a wave of the hand, "we 
 can put up with what you have; but 
 do the best you can by us. And what 
 time is supper?" 
 
 Meantime, Amabel and I had 
 stepped within, to a room which had a 
 piano in it, and a banjo and guitar, and 
 a general air of sitting-room, rather 
 than public parlor, which it really 
 was. 
 
 The landlord, now he was nearer to 
 us, had an odor of frying and broiling 
 fish about him. He gazed at us with 
 shrewd eyes, for his eyes, though 
 black and foreign, were as shrewd as a 
 Yankee s. 
 
 "Um m m," he said, "jest lemme 
 think." 
 
 He was apparently running over the 
 rooms in his mind. We let him think, 
 and presently he stepped into the little 
 hall and shouted: 
 
 239
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Delcina! Cina! Coom here dis 
 minute ! 
 
 Wouldn t you have expected cham 
 bermaid or something of that sort to 
 appear in obedience to this summons? 
 
 A girl came into sight at the end of 
 the hall; she evidently had just left the 
 dining-room. She was dressed just as 
 any well-bred girl in a New England 
 town is dressed of an afternoon in 
 summer in some kind of light stuff, 
 fitting exquisitely. But she had on a 
 long white apron, and a snowy towel 
 was flung over her shoulder. She was 
 slender and graceful, and she was 
 remarkably pretty, with a delicate, 
 refined comeliness. 
 
 She did not seem to see us; she stood 
 and waited, looking at Mr. Jones. I 
 was conscious that Mr. Riddle was gaz 
 ing at her, though he seemed not to be 
 aware of any object but the young man 
 sitting in the hammock. 
 
 Cina," said Mr. Jones, "you give 
 dese ladies de room over here," with 
 240
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 a movement of the hand. "I ll take 
 de gentlemen up myself to Nos. 6 
 and 7." 
 
 Delcina now turned toward us. 
 
 "I ll show you," she said, and began 
 to go up the stairs. We followed her. 
 The stairs and the hall were blue with 
 tobacco smoke, which proceeded from a 
 room opposite the parlor, where some 
 dimly-seen men sat and played cards 
 and smoked. It was like looking into 
 the mouth of a crater to look in there, 
 only in craters one does not usually see 
 vague, manly forms holding playing 
 cards; these forms may be there, but 
 they are not visible. 
 
 Delcina opened a door, and we 
 passed on into a room with two beds 
 in it, an odor of tobacco smoke and a 
 still stronger odor of the ocean. 
 
 "You can see the harbor from this 
 window," said Delcina, drawing up a 
 curtain. 
 
 She smiled in an entirely impersonal 
 but very friendly way. She said she 
 241
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 would send up water and towels ; then 
 she left us. 
 
 "Oh," cried Amabel, fervently, "I 
 just love that girl!" 
 
 "She is rather charming," I re 
 sponded. 
 
 "Charming?" repeated Amabel, 
 "she s an angel she never showed 
 that she saw I was in divided skirts and 
 trouserettes. That s what I call being 
 an angel and a lady. If some one 
 doesn t horsewhip that creature in the 
 hammock I I " 
 
 Amabel paused, owing to the weak 
 ness of words. 
 
 "Why," I said, "what did he do?" 
 
 "Do? Do?" my friend was pulling 
 off her gloves and rolling them up in a 
 ball; she flung the ball on the bed 
 furthest from her; she hurriedly put 
 her hands up to her head, smoothing 
 her hair, but giving a quick, effective 
 ruffle to the fluffy locks about her fore 
 head. 
 
 "What did he do? He glared. And 
 242
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 he openly suppressed a snicker. 
 Openly suppressed it. Now I ask you 
 to look at me, she walked across the 
 room. "Consider me. In these days 
 of bicycles am I not perfectly respect 
 able eminently respectable? Don t 
 prevaricate." 
 
 "Eminently," I answered, firmly. 
 
 "Then what did that that gorilla 
 mean by suppressing that snicker?" 
 
 "But, Amabel, pray give him credit 
 for the effort." 
 
 "What effort?" fiercely. 
 
 "Why, at suppression." 
 
 "You needn t uphold him. I m sur 
 prised that you should uphold a thing 
 with an upper lip like that, and no chin 
 to speak of. Yes, I am surprised. 
 
 Amabel was still walking about the 
 room. 
 
 "But I m not upholding him. I wish 
 you d be reasonable, even if you are a 
 reformer. I say give him credit for 
 wishing not to snicker." 
 
 "I shan t. He wished to snicker." 
 243
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 I sat down by the window and looked 
 at the harbor, which was very blue 
 and calm and bright. At this moment 
 I was not calm and bright, but I was 
 blue. 
 
 "I wanted to cut him with my bowie- 
 knife. 
 
 Having spoken thus, Amabel was 
 silent. In about a quarter of a minute 
 an arm was placed across my shoulders 
 and a cheek pressed against mine. 
 
 "I know I m a regular little cat," 
 whispered AmabeJ, in the most gentle 
 way, quite as if she were about to purr. 
 
 "Speaking of cats," I responded, 
 "reminds me of Sister Sarah Ramsey, 
 that married a Portuguese. You have 
 promised to visit her. Perhaps they all 
 marry Portuguese down here." 
 
 "I had forgotten Sarah Ramsey. 
 We will go to-morrow. I should have 
 remembered her by to-morrow. I 
 shall have time to put down a few 
 words in my day book before supper. 
 
 And Amabel drew her book from the 
 244
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 satchel and sat down with her pencil 
 in her hand. But she did not write. 
 She glanced from the window, then 
 leaned her arms upon the ledge. The 
 bit of harbor visible, and the narrow 
 curve of land opposite that helped to 
 protect this haven, were framed in by 
 the old warehouses at the head of the 
 wharves. The water was very near, 
 but we could only see that bit ; as if a 
 marine picture by some superhuman 
 artist were hung in front of this win 
 dow and the air the permeating salt- 
 ness and vigor of the air I am in 
 danger of saying too much of the air. 
 It would seem as if this must be a 
 healthier place even than Wellfleet. 
 How could people die here? The 
 very secret of eternal youth and 
 strength must be somewhere in this bit 
 of a sandy desert which Massachusetts 
 has thrust out like a doubled fist into 
 the Atlantic Ocean. Is that extended 
 fist a challenge to all the coast to pro 
 duce a spot that shall so appeal to 
 245
 
 SAND N - BUSHES 
 
 one s fancy, so linger in one s memory? 
 And yet the whole place is only sand, 
 level or in little hills, and water. 
 Where, then, lies its fascination? Why 
 can t you forget it? 
 
 But these reflections came later, 
 when the power of this spot, which is 
 island and yet not island, had become 
 still greater. 
 
 Now I looked over Amabel s head 
 through the window, and was conscious 
 of the vivid brightness of everything. 
 All at once a few yards of the sails of a 
 big ship entering the harbor became 
 visible like the tip of the white wing 
 of a seabird. The sail grew larger, 
 then was hidden by the warehouses. 
 A hoarse tooting from some little 
 steamer sounded as near as if the 
 steamer were just gliding onto the 
 piazza. 
 
 "It isn t of any use trying to put 
 
 anything down in my book," said 
 
 Amabel, at last. "Isn t it too lovely? 
 
 I will just write that we arrived safely 
 
 246
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 at Provincetown late in the afternoon, 
 that riding a cross-tree is the only 
 reasonable way for man or woman to 
 ride, and that there were a few people, 
 and one gorilla, on the piazza, when we 
 rode up that the chambermaid, no, 
 the waiter girl, is a little love. I won t 
 say a word about the scenery. 
 
 The next day we spent in the strict 
 est seclusion among the bayberry and 
 goldenrod shrubs of the wastes at the 
 back of the town. We did not 
 definitely intend to do this, but we 
 went out immediately after breakfast 
 and rambled desultorily, finding our 
 selves on Town Hill, where the signal 
 for a storm was flying from the flagstaff 
 there. 
 
 Amabel said that she would not 
 explore the streets until our trunk had 
 arrived. We were going to indulge in 
 one trunk, which Amabel s father was 
 to send on such a date. It ought to 
 be at the steamer wharf now, but 
 Albert averred that it was not there. 
 
 247
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 It was coming from Boston by water. 
 Mr. Riddle suggested that it might 
 have been shipped in a sloop, in which 
 case even a spiritual medium could not 
 predict when it would arrive. Mean 
 time, we were living in our riding 
 habits; Amabel had relinquished her 
 new raiment and was extremely "lady 
 like" in her old riding skirt. We still 
 had the shorts bag. In time my friend 
 thought we might turn the bag into 
 a hop-sacking suit. Not that there are 
 no drygoods on the peninsula, but that 
 main street, where the water is on one 
 side and the dry land on the other, was 
 as yet unexplored by us. We hurried 
 out of the hotel, went along the lane 
 and up a few steps at the end into a 
 sandy place, which was a road ; a few 
 rods along this road and we could 
 climb Town Hill or escape to the 
 desert. The fresh-water standpipe is 
 off in this direction, rising from bil 
 lows of sand, and in the great stretch 
 about it there is one small house. 
 248
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 This house is in the midst of shrubs, 
 mostly beach plum ; and a great many 
 hens are clucking and scratching in the 
 sand, some of them leading forth little 
 yellow fluff balls that go through the 
 operation of scratching with bits of feet 
 that twinkle as they scratch. There 
 isn t a tree in this great surface, and 
 the sun shines down and the sand by 
 the standpipe glares, and the air above 
 it wavers with heat. 
 
 We wear colored glasses and we 
 carry umbrellas. We sit down in the 
 sand and hold up our umbrellas ; finally 
 we loll back, and, hearing the beat of 
 the breakers on the coast that from 
 here we cannot see, we almost go to 
 sleep; almost, not quite, for I vaguely 
 saw a figure coming among the plum 
 bushes toward where we lay. The 
 figure tottered about, but that was my 
 vision. I roused myself and blinked 
 my eyes to make sure that I was not 
 asleep. 
 
 Yes, it was a figure coming, stopping 
 249
 
 SAND N* BUSHES 
 
 sometimes to pick something, and 
 finally revealing that it was a child, a 
 girl of about seven. She was bare 
 footed, she had on a man s broad- 
 brimmed straw hat, which came down 
 "to her eyebrows and was continually 
 pushed back that it might not fall over 
 her eyes also. Her calico frock was rent 
 by the bushes and hung in long slits. 
 
 She was right upon us before she 
 saw us. She jumped back and cried out : 
 
 "Oh, my timbers!" then stood still 
 and gazed. 
 
 This exclamation was delightful to 
 me. It seemed exquisitely appro 
 priate ; I could only wish that she had 
 said "Shiver my timbers," but perhaps 
 that was too much to expect. 
 
 Amabel sat upright. Then she held 
 out her hand. 
 
 The child advanced, not shyly, but 
 guardedly. She had clasped her hands 
 behind her, and her slim bit of a figure, 
 in its waving rags, was in the full 
 sunlight. She was not pretty, but she 
 250
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 had very beautiful dark eyes. We 
 were yet to learn how many foreign, 
 olive-tinted faces and "midnight eyes" 
 we were to see on Provincetown streets 
 faces as strange beneath a New 
 England sky as can be imagined. 
 
 "Do come a little nearer," pleaded 
 Amabel. 
 
 The child moved her feet for about 
 the space of a quarter of a yard, and 
 then stood again. 
 
 "What s your name?" 
 
 "Sarah Ramsey Gonzaga. " 
 
 This appearance seemed almost like 
 a visible reproach to us. 
 
 "You don t like cats, do you?" 
 inquired Amabel, making a statement 
 and then asking a question, after the 
 /manner of Yankees. 
 
 "Huh?" said the child. 
 
 "Do you like cats?" 
 
 "They scratch," was the reply. 
 
 "So they do, terribly," with 
 emphasis. "Where do you live?" 
 
 Sarah turned and pointed one small, 
 251
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 grimy finger at the one house ; but she 
 did not speak. 
 
 "Is your mother lame?" 
 
 "Huh?" 
 
 "Is your mother lame?" 
 
 "Naw." 
 
 Amabel turned to me and remarked, 
 "It can t be the one." 
 
 "She ain t lame," continued the 
 child "she can t walk a single inch 
 not a single inch. 
 
 This statement was made with an 
 unmistakable air of pride. It was 
 plain that Sarah Ramsey Gonzaga felt 
 the distinction of having a mother who 
 couldn t walk a single inch. 
 
 "It is the same, then," said Amabel, 
 aside. "Can your father walk?" 
 
 Sarah smiled, and revealed two gaps 
 in the teeth of the upper jaw. She 
 nodded. 
 
 "Pa c n walk like a good one so 
 c n I." 
 
 She looked down reflectively at her 
 bare legs and feet. Then she repeated, 
 252
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "but ma can t. Doctors say she can t 
 never. Doctors say she s officying. " 
 
 Still more triumph in voice and 
 manner. 
 
 "She s what?"- 
 
 "Officying. But it don t hurt it s 
 real easy. 
 
 "Easy to officy?" 
 
 "Yeh." 
 
 "Then tell us how to do it." 
 
 Sarah looked puzzled a moment, but 
 she said: 
 
 "You jes set, n set, in a big chair, 
 n have your victuals brought to ye; 
 n your legs all wropped up; n drink 
 tea thout no sugar in it; n tell folks 
 they oughter be thankful they c n 
 walk." 
 
 "Oh, that s the way to officy, is it?" 
 
 "Yeh." 
 
 Sarah now looked exhaustively at 
 our feet. It was as if she were count 
 ing the buttons on our shoes. 
 
 Then, without the least warning, she 
 sprung this remark upon us : 
 
 253
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I m goin to have a kitten." 
 
 "Are you?" 
 
 "Yeh. Some women s comin down 
 from Aunt Ma ly s; they re comin to 
 bring it. All yeller n white n gray, 
 with double claws on her front feet. 
 
 We shuddered. The child continued : 
 
 "I ain t never had no kitten. I ve 
 had chickens, but they grow to be 
 hens n pick at you. I killed one 
 chicken cause I didn t want it to git 
 grown up. I arst ma if twould be 
 sure to grow up if t lived, n she said 
 twould; n so I killed it. I shan t kill 
 no more. I don t like to. I felt 
 horrid. D you ever feel horrid?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Cause you d killed a chicken?" 
 
 "No. I m feeling horrid now; but 
 it s about a kitten. " 
 
 It was Amabel who conversed with 
 Sarah, who in her interest had come 
 still nearer to us. Amabel extended 
 her hand and Sarah put her own hand 
 within the open palm. 
 254
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "How d you kill it?" inquired Sarah. 
 "D you chop its head off?" Her eyes 
 were distended. 
 
 "Oh, no no. I lost it. It was in a 
 bag. We were bringing it to Province- 
 town, to Aunt Ma ly s sister, Sarah 
 Ramsey, that married a Portuguese." 
 
 The child stared still harder. She 
 drew in a long breath. 
 
 "My pa s a Portugee," she said at 
 last. After a moment her lips began 
 to quiver. She put up her disengaged 
 hand to her eye. 
 
 "Was it my kitten?" she asked, 
 indistinctly. 
 
 "It was," solemnly. "Oh, I do feel 
 horrid ! 
 
 Amabel drew the child down upon 
 her lap. Sarah was sobbing undis- 
 guisedly now. 
 
 " Twas all yeller, n white, n 
 gray," she said, indistinctly. "Aunt 
 Ma ly wrote to ma bout it." 
 
 She sobbed still harder. 
 
 255
 
 X 
 
 RATHER EXCITING 
 
 Presently we all rose and walked 
 toward the little house in the desert. 
 There was a winding path that led to 
 it, a path of sand that curved about the 
 bushes and that gave beneath your 
 feet. Off at our right was the ocean, 
 unseen, but heard ; at our left also the 
 ocean, behind us the ocean and a tiny 
 neck of land ; in front of us the ocean 
 in the form of Provincetown Harbor ; 
 and Town Hill lay between us and the 
 town. The storm signal was no longer 
 flying. The sky did not look as if it 
 could ever storm. 
 
 As we walked, little Sarah Ramsey 
 
 leading the way, we heard a loud voice 
 
 somewhere in space. There was no 
 
 wind, and the tide was out; a human 
 
 257
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 voice might carry a great distance just 
 now. 
 
 We involuntarily paused. Sarah 
 stopped her sobbing. 
 
 I heard that noise before, she said. 
 
 Yes, it was a man s voice, and it was 
 so near that we could even hear the 
 words : 
 
 "I would not take your hand no, 
 not for ten thousand wor-r-rlds! I 
 scor-r-n you and yours! The world is 
 wide, and God is good. I go hence. 
 I will never set eyes on you again 
 never! never!" 
 
 We stood quite spellbound. Sarah s 
 under jaw dropped in the intensity of 
 her attention. She pushed back a little 
 nearer to Amabel. 
 
 There were bushes enough to con 
 ceal a great many men. Further 
 away the sand dunes rose higher 
 but this speaker was nearer than the 
 dunes. 
 
 It was a moment before we moved 
 on. Amabel and I scrupulously re- 
 258
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 frained from glancing at each other. 
 Could that be Thomas J. Riddle recit 
 ing "his part"? Hadn t his Aunt 
 Eunice mentioned that the remote 
 wilds of Cape Cod would be a good 
 place in which to recite his part? And 
 was that the way he said "scorn you 
 and yours"? I had an indefinite feel 
 ing of disappointment which was per 
 haps the reason why I refrained from 
 looking at Amabel. 
 
 "I heard that noise last night," said 
 the child, as we went on. "Do you 
 s pose tis a man?" 
 
 But no one replied to her. She led 
 us to the door, which stood open. She 
 went in and hurried across the floor to 
 a large wheeled chair which stood at a 
 window. She flung herself forward, 
 crying out: 
 
 "Oh, ma, they ve lost it!" 
 
 Then she began to sob again. 
 
 We followed. The woman in the 
 chair turned to look at us. She had 
 some knitting in her lap, a man s 
 259
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 coarse blue sock. She dropped it as 
 she saw us. 
 
 "Good mornin ," she said. "Won t 
 you se down? Sarah, can t you pull 
 some chairs for ard?" 
 
 But Sarah evidently could not. We 
 helped ourselves. 
 
 This woman was one of those you 
 occasionally meet in New England, so 
 refined, so gentle, that they even make 
 the dialect they use a sort of winning 
 power. She looked like her sister 
 Mahala, with that curious difference 
 that marks a fine-grained texture. 
 Her voice was neither high nor nasal, 
 but mellow, as if the dampness of the 
 air had softened it. 
 
 Amabel hastened to make con 
 fession. When she had made an end 
 the woman smiled and said she guessed 
 she shouldn t blame us none; and 
 long s Sarah hadn t ever seen the cat, 
 she wouldn t mourn much. 
 
 She had taken up her knitting, and 
 her needles flashed as she worked. In 
 260
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 answer to our questions she said that 
 of course she got kinder tired settin so 
 much, but there was lots to see from 
 her winder. 
 
 In response to our looks of surprise, 
 she smiled and explained that there was 
 the hens pickin round; n she didn t 
 s pose folks who hadn t watched em 
 knew how interestin twas to see the 
 bayb ry bushes n the beach plums, 
 n the golden-rod come for ards in the 
 spring. She jest about counted every 
 leaf. 
 
 "I d know but I see when the sap 
 starts to runnin up into the branches. 
 I tell you what tis," with a pleasant 
 laugh, "me n all these bushes n 
 things, n bits of beach grass are jest 
 as intimate s can be. I can t bear to 
 have any of that bayb ry broken off. 
 Sometimes boys come down here, n 
 they go hustling through the bushes, 
 and then I ll miss a stalk here n there ; 
 n it seems s if it hurt em to be broke 
 off. I d .know why plants shouldn t 
 261
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 have their feelin s, do you? I always 
 keep a few bayb ry leaves by me I 
 don t s pose it hurts to take off a few 
 leaves n the smell of em is jest 
 delightful. See if you don t like it." 
 
 She gathered up some leaves from a 
 little stand that stood close by her, and 
 extended them in the palm of her hand. 
 They gave forth a fragrant, whole 
 some odor. 
 
 "I always did love bayb ry when I 
 was to home, not so big as Sarah here ; 
 I used to love to set right down in a 
 bayb ry thicket n rub the leaves up 
 against my face. N every fall mother 
 made me g ether all the berries I could 
 find, n we made them into tallow. I 
 remember I got so many one fall that 
 the tallow sold for s much I had a new 
 pair of shoes copper toes." 
 
 She paused in her wild garrulity and 
 glanced through the window. 
 
 "I never could feel quite so near to 
 beach plums somehow, nor bayberries, 
 either, though I do love em both." 
 262
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Then she looked back at us. "Be 
 you come to make much of a stop down 
 here?" 
 
 Yes, if we liked it we might stay all 
 summer. 
 
 "Oh, I guess you ll like it, fast 
 enough. I wouldn t live anywhere 
 else for no money. If I couldn t look 
 out n see this great stretch of sand n 
 bushes I d know what I should do. I 
 ain t be n no ways partial to that 
 standpipe. It kind of hinders my view 
 over the sand in that d rection. But I 
 s pose I sh ll git reconciled to it some 
 time. We do git reconciled to most 
 things thank the Lord for that! I 
 hope you appreciate your blessin in 
 being able to walk." 
 
 As she glanced at us inquiringly we 
 both said in unison that we hoped we 
 did. 
 
 "I s pose you think you do, but you 
 don t know nothin bout it till your 
 legs fail you, n are jest as likely to 
 break as not." 
 
 263
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh!" exclaimed Amabel, softly. 
 
 "Sometimes seems s if my jest settin 
 here d break em. Pedro says I can 
 break a bone easier n he c n break a 
 pipe stem. But land, that ain t so no 
 more n nothin ! That s exaggeration, 
 that is. You know some people can t 
 help exaggeratin ." 
 
 She spoke this last word with a hard 
 g each time, and she said it with a 
 touching air of pride in her ability to 
 use a long word. 
 
 "Pedro likes to make things as large 
 as they be. But seein I ve broke my 
 hip twice, n my legs once apiece, you 
 can t blame him much, now, can you?" 
 
 She paused and seemed to expect a 
 reply, so Amabel responded that she 
 didn t think he could be blamed, and 
 she hoped that these bones were not 
 broken all at once. 
 
 "Oh, no," laughing; "even I 
 
 couldn t make out to do so much s that, 
 
 though the doctors do say I ve got 
 
 something mighty uncommon the 
 
 264
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 matter of my bones. Some of um 
 said I was officying, but the rest of um 
 said twan t no such thing, that twas 
 entirely different; but they all agreed 
 that twas most uncommon it didn t 
 occur once in I forgit how often." 
 
 The speaker s pale face flushed with 
 the interest and pride with which she 
 spoke. 
 
 "Yes, there s be n doctors down 
 here from Boston jest to see the case. 
 I tell Pedro that s long s I d got to be 
 laid up, twas something to be laid up 
 dif runt from other people. I tell 
 him twas like havin the right kind of 
 spice in an apple pie made in the 
 spring after the apples d got as flat as 
 dishwater." 
 
 Here she laughed again. 
 
 Little Sarah Ramsey was sitting on 
 the edge of a chair, gazing at us with 
 utter absorption. The room was full 
 of sunlight; outside the robins and 
 chips were flying about; sometimes a 
 hen came slowly peeking up to the 
 265
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 open door, looked in with that imbecile 
 air which belongs to a hen, then flut 
 tered away in obedience to Sarah Ram 
 sey s sudden dart forward with arms 
 outspread. It was very pleasant. I 
 felt an agreeable sense of drowsy 
 peace. 
 
 "Mebby," said our hostess, looking 
 hopefully at us, "you d like to hear 
 how I was first taken?" 
 
 "Taken?" repeated Amabel, vaguely. 
 
 "Yes. Twas my left hip I broke 
 both times, you know. My symptoms 
 were real queer while I was lay in here 
 after the doctors had fixed the bones. 
 Mebby you d like to hear bout them 
 symptoms. I set here n think of 
 them symptoms till I declare I don t 
 know but I m feelin* um all over agin. 
 But they re always interestin to me. 
 Sometimes I think that, s long s I ve 
 got to set here, I d know what I should 
 do thout them symptoms. They re 
 jest as good as a novel to me better, 
 for I ain t one that ever cared much 
 266
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 for novels. Novels ain t true, n my 
 symptoms are; that s one consolation, 
 they re true s the Book. Folks gener 
 ally like to hear me tell the par 
 ticulars." 
 
 "Yes, yes," said Amabel; "please 
 go on." 
 
 She spoke cheerfully, but there was an 
 undertone of plaintiveness in her voice. 
 
 We settled ourselves as comfortably 
 as we could in the straight wooden 
 chairs. We took off our hats. I re 
 member from the first that I watched a 
 bee that came buzzing to a wild rose 
 bush full of blossoms that grew near 
 the door. I watched him make unerr 
 ing dives, and I heard the woman s 
 voice. Of course, I couldn t have gone 
 to sleep in a chair like that ; but Ama 
 bel always asserts that I snored, and 
 that at one stage of my slumber I had 
 a nightmare, and thought I had broken 
 my hip. But I do not in the least 
 believe this. 
 
 It is true, however, that when I was 
 267
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 roused by my friend s rising from her 
 chair, the town clock was striking a 
 great many times, and it was high noon. 
 
 Our hostess looked pleased and 
 refreshed; Amabel worn, but reso 
 lutely amiable. 
 
 "I do hope you ll both come ag in," 
 said Mrs. Gonzaga. "We ve had a nice 
 talk, ain t we? It s done me a lot of 
 good. If you ll wait, we ll have some 
 broiled fresh cod; Pedro ll be in any 
 minute. He s tiptop cookin fish. 
 He s " 
 
 But we had gone outside the door. 
 We turned back to say goodby. We 
 promised to come again. We hurried 
 along the sandy path, slipping and 
 wallowing. Town Hill kept every 
 breath of wind from us. We glanced 
 up at that hill. On the verge nearest 
 us, his head just above the tallest 
 beach plums, we saw Mr. Riddle. He 
 snatched off his hat and waved it. 
 Then he disappeared and immediately 
 reappeared, hurrying along toward us. 
 268
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Albert has been anxious about 
 you," he announced. 
 
 "Has he?" indifferently. 
 
 "Yes. May I ask if you ve been 
 out here in this waste all the morn 
 ing?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Mr. Riddle passed his hand over his 
 face. 
 
 "It is I who feel a prey to anxiety 
 now," he said. 
 
 He glanced at Amabel and then at 
 me, and we glanced at him. 
 
 "May I ask a very important ques 
 tion?" 
 
 We hesitated, and then we said, 
 "Yes," and waited. 
 
 Amabel and I were going single file 
 along the path, Mr. Riddle was strid 
 ing among the bushes beside us. 
 There was certainly an unhappy 
 expression upon his countenance. I 
 am almost sure that I felt a little ten 
 derly toward him when I saw how dis 
 tressed his face was. 
 269
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "If you ve been here all the time, 
 then," he began, after a slight pause, 
 "you must have heard something. 
 Ladies, have you heard anything?" 
 
 "We have heard hens, and robins, 
 and " 
 
 Amabel stopped, and I could see her 
 face enough to know that she was 
 blushing. Unless there is a principle 
 involved, like divided skirts, she hates 
 to hurt any one s feelings. 
 
 "Miss Waldo," interrupted Mr. 
 Riddle, desperately, "did you hear me 
 reciting my part?" 
 
 "I I don t know. " 
 
 "Did you? I want to know whether 
 to go and hang myself or not. " 
 
 "Please don t hang yourself, Mr. 
 Riddle," softly. 
 
 "Why not?" fiercely. 
 
 "Because because, down here 
 drowning would be so much handier. 
 
 "Miss Waldo! Let it be drowning, 
 then. What did you hear me say? 
 Don t prevaricate." 
 270
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I never prevaricate. I heard you 
 say that you that you scorned me and 
 mine." 
 
 Here Amabel could not restrain a 
 laugh ; Mr. Riddle joined, but his face 
 was very red. 
 
 "I suppose," he said, despairingly, 
 "that I called it scor-r-ned?" 
 
 "Yes, you did." 
 
 "Do believe that I know better, Miss 
 Waldo do," hurriedly. "But the 
 exigencies of my audience I call it 
 the exigencies demand that kind of an 
 R. It makes me sick, though; I assure 
 you, it makes me sick. 
 
 He looked down at Amabel s face. 
 "You see," in a lower voice, "I m try 
 ing to climb up in my profession, but I 
 have to consult the taste of others 
 about the letter R. If I ever get to be 
 like Irving and those fellows, I ll cer 
 tainly drop all that rot. I didn t know 
 it made me so sick till I was afraid you 
 overheard me. Somehow, I care 
 awfully that you shouldn t think me a 
 271
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 melodramatic idiot." Again he looked 
 down at her. "I suppose you can t 
 help thinking me that, though?" 
 
 "Why should I?" 
 
 But Amabel did not glance at him ; 
 she was looking everywhere but at Mr. 
 Riddle. 
 
 4 I shall have to go over my part, 
 went on the young man, "but I rather 
 think I can find a place down here 
 where nobody ll hear me. They tell 
 me there re miles of sand here where 
 there isn t a person confound the 
 whole thing, though, I say! Miss 
 Waldo, I do wish you d tell me you 
 don t think any the less of me." 
 
 This was rather trying; and why 
 didn t he ask me if I thought any the 
 less of him? 
 
 I lingered, but Amabel would not 
 allow me to linger. She paused 
 directly and turned to me ; whereupon 
 Mr. Riddle dropped the solicitude from 
 his manner. 
 
 After dinner, however, when I was 
 272
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 sitting on the piazza alone, Mr. Riddle 
 came from the hall, saw me, and 
 leaned against a post, looking down at 
 me. There was a certain wistfulness 
 in his eyes really, he had fine eyes 
 that was rather touching. 
 
 "I suppose," he began abruptly, in 
 a very low tone, "that I ought not to 
 feel as I do. I mean that I have no 
 right to feel so; but somehow I value 
 your opinion of me I want it to be a 
 good opinion." 
 
 When I had seen this look in his 
 face directed to Amabel, I had an 
 inclination to scoff at it, but I had no 
 such inclination now. Mr. Thomas J. 
 Riddle seemed to me a young man of 
 discrimination and good sense; and 
 there was something winning about him. 
 
 "I don t know why I should want to 
 talk about myself to you," he went on, 
 "and of course I shall bore you no 
 end." 
 
 "I don t think you ll bore me," I 
 replied. 
 
 273
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 He pulled out his watch. 
 
 "Please come down to the wharf with 
 me. The Boston steamer has just 
 come round. Let us see her make her 
 landing. 
 
 I knew of no reason why I shouldn t 
 go with him. Just as we were turning 
 on to the main street I looked back at 
 our window, and Amabel waved her 
 hand to me from it. She was making 
 entries in her day book. 
 
 Puffs of wind came from the south, 
 warm salt wind that one snuffed up 
 eagerly. 
 
 "We re a set of barnstormers, you 
 see," began Mr. Riddle, bending his 
 head down to me. "I m half ashamed 
 of the whole thing, but I m in it, and 
 I m leading man, and I m getting toler 
 able pay. I ve got to get up my parts 
 of three or four new plays this summer. 
 Of course, I m looking forward to 
 better things. I wish you could advise 
 me. I should think so much of your 
 advice. 
 
 274
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 We had now reached the top of the 
 long wharf. People were sauntering 
 down to see the boat come in. Among 
 these people was Albert, who eyed me 
 over, and then went on with a 
 whistle. The wind blew so here that 
 I was obliged to hold my hat on. I 
 managed to say that I was sure I 
 couldn t give any advice. 
 
 "Oh, please, don t say that!" he 
 responded. "I want to tell you all 
 about it. You ll let me tell you, won t 
 you?" 
 
 Why, yes, since he really wished it. 
 
 "Indeed, I do. Oh, thank you! I 
 knew you were kind and I want you 
 to criticise there s the boat lots of 
 people on her, aren t there?" 
 
 The water, driven by the boat, was 
 swashing up against the planks, and 
 the wharf was swaying. The wind 
 rushed over us. Several people came 
 out of the little house there and 
 crowded nearer the edge. The pas 
 sengers on the boat were all grouped 
 275
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 close to where the gangway plank was 
 to be thrown out. Men and women 
 were holding on to their hats and 
 laughing and talking as they watched 
 the boat slide forward toward the 
 wharf. I thought there was something 
 familiar in the appearance of two girls 
 who stood the very foremost, close to 
 the rail, and within a foot or so of 
 where the gangway was to be. In the 
 next moment the steamer had come so 
 near that I knew the two girls, in the 
 next it was so near that I heard one of 
 them say shrilly as she caught sight 
 of my tall companion : 
 
 "Oh, Sue Cummings, ain t it funny? 
 There s " 
 
 Then the railing was thrown up, Lily 
 Langthorne pressed forward, and, not 
 noting carefully where her feet went, 
 promptly fell into the water. 
 
 I heard one of the hands cry out: 
 "Oh, the devil!" 
 
 Somebody else shouted: "Woman 
 overboard ! 
 
 276
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 But before this last shout Mr. Riddle 
 had jumped off the wharf after Miss 
 Langthorne. 
 
 My first sensation was one of anger 
 at the girl s inconceivable carelessness. 
 Then I was afraid she would hit the 
 steamer s side or the posts of the 
 wharf. But she would be picked up; 
 there was no doubt of that ; I had no 
 doubt either but that she could swim. 
 All this sounds rather cold-blooded, but 
 I did not feel cold-blooded. 
 
 Everybody rushed to look over. 
 Half a dozen rowboats hovered as near 
 as possible and there was Mr. Riddle 
 swimming out toward one of the 
 boats. Miss Langthorne herself was 
 making strokes with one hand, and 
 altogether behaving herself in a com 
 mendable way. But a woman s cloth 
 ing hampered her. 
 
 The two were pulled into one of the 
 
 boats. Sue Cummings had engaged a 
 
 carriage, and she had her friend put 
 
 into it. Not before Miss Langthorne 
 
 277
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 had seen me, and had said, with chat 
 tering teeth : 
 
 "Oh, I thought twas you funniest 
 thing in the world, ain t it? I must 
 look a perfect fright. 
 
 And she hurried into the carriage, 
 her tailor-made suit dripping streams 
 of water. 
 
 As for Mr. Riddle, he was running 
 up the wharf, bareheaded, his close- 
 cropped hair shining in the sun. 
 
 I followed at my leisure. I stopped 
 to sit awhile on the deck of a fishing 
 sloop that was tied up to another 
 wharf. I watched some boys wading 
 after something they had tied to a post 
 sunk in the sand, and when I found it 
 was a cat, half-drowned, and thor 
 oughly soaked, I rose up in my wrath, 
 and my wrath was so great that it 
 enabled me to make one of the boys 
 release the cat and carry her to a sunny 
 spot on the wharf. I watched until 
 the animal had run away. Then I con 
 tinued my walk, and when I arrived 
 278
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 at the Pacific House Amabel met me 
 on the piazza with the exclamation : 
 
 "You can t guess who has come!" 
 and I said, "Ain t it funny?" and she 
 said, "How did you know?" 
 
 "So we have come down here to the 
 end of the world to stay in the same 
 hotel with Lilian Langthorne," I re 
 marked. "It does seem unnecessarily 
 cruel of Providence. 
 
 "And she fell into the water, and 
 Mr. Riddle pulled her out," went on 
 my friend, hurriedly. 
 
 "Yes, I was there," I responded, 
 without any apparent emotion. 
 
 "Oh, were you?" 
 
 "Yes; it was not becoming to Miss 
 Langthorne to be as wet as that. She 
 looked like a draggled nursery maid 
 who would flirt with the butcher s 
 boy." 
 
 "You re a cold-hearted wretch," said 
 my friend. 
 
 "No, I m not. And now I suppose 
 she will wriggle up to everybody, and 
 279
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 make them smile at her, and even 
 Delcina will not be as kind and atten 
 tive to us. She will desert and go over 
 to Lily Langthorne. I like Delcina; I 
 don t want her imposed upon. I was 
 impressed by Delcina. What did that 
 girl come down here for for her 
 spine?" 
 
 "Oh, I m sure I don t know," help 
 lessly. "They ve got the best room in 
 the house, and Delcina has been run 
 ning with hot blankets and hot 
 whisky, and well Mr. T. J. Riddle 
 is the hero of the hour." 
 
 "No doubt. But he didn t run any 
 risk. And somebody would have been 
 sure to pick up Lily Langthorne. 
 Girls like Lily Langthorne never 
 drown. I hope Mr. Riddle got his 
 share of the hot whisky." 
 
 "Yes, I think he did. There he is 
 now. You can ask him. But I m 
 sorry to see you exhibit such a spirit." 
 
 Mr. Riddle came up the lane in a 
 tweed suit which made him look quite 
 280
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 fine and stylish. Evidently his trunk 
 had come, though ours had not. 
 
 Two small girls in the yard opposite 
 audibly conversed in the following 
 terms: 
 
 "There he is he s the feller that 
 jumped off the wharf." 
 
 "That one? What d he jump fur?" 
 
 "What fur? Fur a gal." 
 
 "Well, tain t nothin to jump off the 
 wharf. Pa s done it lots of times. 
 Was it his gal?" 
 
 "I guess so." 
 
 Mr. Riddle was quite red when he 
 reached us. He, also, had overheard. 
 
 "You see how thickly blush the 
 honors on your brow, Mr. Riddle," 
 said Amabel. 
 
 "Oh, please don t, Miss Waldo. I do 
 hate to be made ridiculous. It s 
 ridiculous to speak of what I did. I 
 wish you two ladies would come with 
 us to row in the harbor. Albert and I 
 are going." 
 
 Just then Delcina appeared at the 
 281
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 open door. She said that Miss Lang- 
 thorne had just come down and wished 
 to see Mr. Riddle. 
 
 Mr. Riddle entered the little parlor; 
 Amabel and I sat on the bench on the 
 piazza. The young man whom my 
 friend persistently called the gorilla 
 came and sat in the hammock in front 
 of us. He had on a white suit, with a 
 white cap on the back of his head. I 
 had seen him carefully arrange that cap 
 before the glass in the hall, so that his 
 hair, cut with an eye to bangs, might 
 fully reveal that it was so cut. He 
 lighted a cigarette. He lolled in a way 
 that gave him a view through the open 
 window into the parlor. His little 
 eyes looked greedy to see, his prom 
 inent ears looked greedy to hear. He 
 puffed at his cigarette. 
 
 282
 
 XI 
 
 THE HARBOR 
 
 "Oh, Mr. Riddle, perhaps I ought 
 not to have sent for you," began Miss 
 Langthorne. "Sue said I d better 
 wait; didn t you, Sue?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "But when I came downstairs I 
 caught a glimpse of you with those two 
 dear old ladies " 
 
 "Sh!" apparently from Miss Cum- 
 mings. "They re not old." 
 
 "Oh, well, I don t call them young; 
 I hope, Sue Cummings, you don t call 
 them young." 
 
 An indistinct murmur in response. 
 
 With the tail of my eye I could see 
 Mr. Riddle standing up, tall and 
 straight. The gorilla in the hammock 
 turned his head aside, but not so much 
 aside that I could not see him grin. 
 283
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Then Miss Langthorne s voice again, 
 this time rather subdued, and accom 
 panied, I was sure, by a glance. 
 
 "How could I rest, Mr. Riddle, until 
 I had thanked you?" 
 
 "Oh, don t I " 
 
 "Now, Mr. Riddle, you needn t make 
 light of what you did. I shall write to 
 papa this afternoon. Don t you think 
 my life is precious to me?" 
 
 "But somebody in the boats would 
 have been sure to pick you up and it s 
 nothing to jump off a wharf in summer. " 
 
 "Mr. Riddle!" softly. 
 
 "Miss Langthorne!" 
 
 "I shall write to papa. I shall Mr. 
 Riddle, won t you shake hands?" 
 
 The girl s voice faltered. 
 
 "She is putting in some good work 
 now," I muttered. 
 
 But Amabel pretended not to hear 
 me. She rose, and I rose also. We 
 went by the hammock, who seoccupant 
 had forgotten to puff for the last few 
 minutes. 
 
 284
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 We walked to the steps at the end of 
 the lane. When we had mounted them 
 we heard voices behind us. We 
 hurried. Mr. Riddle and Miss Lang- 
 thorne and Miss Cummings came up. 
 Miss Langthorne called out: 
 
 "Oh, do stop and say good-morning. 
 I saw you on the wharf." 
 
 We shook hands. The girl really 
 looked lovely. It was irritating that 
 she should have such a pretty face. 
 Why should her eyes have hints in 
 them of what could not possibly be in 
 her heart? And just now, with all her 
 vivacity, there was a touch of languor 
 in her appearance. 
 
 "How funny we should all be in 
 Provincetown!" she exclaimed. "You 
 going to stay long? We mean to stop 
 till we re tired of it. Twas a real sud 
 den start, our coming. I like sudden 
 starts, don t you? They re ever so 
 much nicer than to plan for a long 
 time. Don t you think they re ever so 
 much nicer? Didn t I look an awful 
 285
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 fright all wet? A girl s an awful fright 
 unless she has just the right kind of a 
 bathing suit on. Did you bring your 
 wheels? Oh, I forgot, you were on 
 horseback. We left our wheels up at 
 Middleborough. I told Sue I d rather 
 row. I m going in for rowing. Doctor 
 says rowing is good for the spine. I 
 find there s a lot of things good for the 
 spine. You row, Mr. Riddle?" 
 
 Yes, Mr. Riddle rowed. 
 
 "Oh, ain t that nice? Come, Sue, 
 we ll go up and look at the harbor from 
 the hill." 
 
 She turned her back on Mr. Riddle 
 and walked away. Her companion 
 followed her. There was something in 
 the action that seemed to say: 
 
 "After all, I don t find it so very 
 amusing to talk to you. 
 
 It was a rebuff that might stimulate. 
 
 Mr. Riddle stood looking after her an 
 
 instant, his nostrils dilated, an arch in 
 
 his brow. Then with a little shrug of 
 
 the shoulder, he turned to us and 
 
 286
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 repeated his invitation for us to go 
 rowing. 
 
 As we turned back to go toward the 
 harbor we met Delcina hastening 
 along. She had taken off her big 
 apron, and she looked a charming 
 young lady. Off came Mr. Riddle s 
 cap, and he made a fine bow that was 
 full of deference. Delcina blushed as 
 she went by, and the irritation faded 
 from the young man s face. 
 
 "That s one reason why I like these 
 remote towns in New England," 
 remarked Amabel, with some enthusi 
 asm. 
 
 I looked at her inquiringly; I hated 
 to ask her point-blank what she was 
 talking about. As for Mr. Riddle, he 
 actually beamed upon her, and I won 
 dered why, for the beaming seemed 
 rather impersonal. 
 
 "Because," she said, with still more 
 
 enthusiasm, "we re all free and equal 
 
 or dream that we are. There s that 
 
 Delcina Jones. I should never think 
 
 287
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 of treating her any other way than as if 
 she were a lady, though she waits on us 
 at table. She is a lady. She is well 
 educated she knows ever so much 
 about music and and just note her 
 face and bearing, will you? And I 
 should just like to see any one offering 
 to fee her!" 
 
 "Should you?" I asked. "Well, you 
 could, then, if you had stopped as long 
 at table as I did this noon. 
 
 "Who was it?" asked Mr. Riddle, 
 with some fierceness. 
 
 " Twas the go I mean the young 
 man in the white suit and with the 
 ears. Delcina had just brought him 
 his coffee. He put out his hand and 
 touched hers, and showed her a half- 
 dollar in his palm. There wasn t any 
 one at the table but me and the go 
 the young man. He leered in her face. 
 
 I stopped. 
 
 "Well?" from Mr. Riddle. 
 
 "Oh, nothing more; only Delcina 
 walked away ; the half-dollar fell to the 
 288
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 floor, and it s there now for aught I 
 know." 
 
 "I ll pull that fellow s ears for him," 
 said Mr. Riddle. 
 
 "Still," said Amabel, assuming her 
 judicious air, "people do fee waiters, 
 and I don t know that we ought to 
 think it wrong to fee Delcina. 
 
 "Wrong? Oh, I don t know that it s 
 a sin," explosively from Mr. Riddle, 
 "but I d as soon think of offering you 
 half a dollar, Miss Waldo. By Jove! 
 Just look at the girl s face; and her 
 manner s just as good as anybody s. 
 I ll certainly pull the cur s ears." 
 
 Some one came up hastily behind and 
 walked by us. It was the young man 
 of whom we were speaking; his cap 
 was in the same position, and his bangs 
 were blowing in the wind. It is 
 astonishing how the mere sight of some 
 people makes one s fingers itch to do a 
 personal injury. 
 
 Mr. Riddle involuntarily took a step 
 forward and shut his hands. 
 289
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Then he laughed. 
 
 "Oh, well, a fellow mustn t whip 
 every puppy he sees, and his manner 
 relaxed. 
 
 We had our row. When we came in 
 we went and looked at our horses. 
 The men in the stable contemplated 
 Amabel with furtive but intent inter 
 est. They plainly knew in what way 
 she had ridden into Provincetown. But 
 they behaved themselves, and spat their 
 tobacco juice in a self-possessed manner. 
 
 The next day at dinner we found 
 Miss Langthorne and her friend sat 
 opposite us, and when we came to the 
 roast Miss Langthorne asked in a high 
 voice if it were really true, Miss Waldo, 
 that you rode down here on a on a 
 man s saddle. 
 
 "Quite true." 
 
 The people at the table made a little 
 movement and glanced our way. 
 
 "I told Sue," went on the speaker, 
 "that I didn t believe it. Not but that 
 I think reform is necessary. 
 290
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Miss Langthorne ate a bit of potato. 
 She took tip a morsel of meat on her 
 fork, looked at it critically, then 
 glanced at us. 
 
 "I should think it must have been 
 too funny for anything. I wish I d 
 been there. Twas after we met, 
 wasn t it? Yes, of course for then 
 
 you were riding like a lady " I 
 
 felt my color rising, but I kept my eyes 
 on my plate. "What made you think 
 of such a thing? How brave you must 
 be! Were you along, Mr. Riddle? 
 You were a real naughty man to disap 
 pear from Middleborough as you did. 
 Didn t you know that you were a real 
 naughty man? But I shall have to for 
 give you, since you pulled me out of 
 the water. Didn t I look a perfect 
 fright? Sue says I looked a perfect 
 fright; did I, Mr. Riddle?" 
 
 Mr. Riddle protested that it would 
 be impossible, and so forth ; besides, he 
 had had no opportunity to notice. 
 
 Delcina brought some tea to Miss 
 291
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Langthorne, who sniffed at it, raised 
 her eyes for an instant to the face of 
 the girl standing by her, and said : 
 "Take it away. I ordered coffee. " 
 The insolence of the tone made the 
 words like a lash across the face. I 
 saw Delcina wince and her lip tremble ; 
 but she instantly walked off with the 
 cup, and Miss Langthorne resumed her 
 prattle. 
 
 After this, things happened just as I 
 predicted. Miss Langthorne chat 
 tered, and sparkled up to every one in 
 the hotel ; she seemed to pervade every 
 thing, and to vitiate the air even of 
 Provincetown. And she was such a 
 pretty girl! She struck up an ac 
 quaintance with the young man with 
 the ears, Mr. Dunn, and they ogled 
 each other across the table. Mr. Dunn 
 made poor jokes, and Miss Langthorne 
 laughed at them; that is, she usually 
 laughed at them, but sometimes she 
 snubbed him and listened to Mr. 
 Riddle. This latter gentleman was 
 292
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 away much of the time mornings. He 
 took a book with him and walked along 
 the road laid out by the State to the 
 sand dunes that great waste of shore 
 where the sand blows in storms, and 
 shifts about into hills and dales. But 
 the cunning and industry of man are 
 circumventing the powers of the air. 
 Beach grass and dwarf pines, and 
 plants of tough and spreading roots, are 
 being planted in this desert, and the 
 sand is held down. By-and-by there 
 will be cottages here, and what a place 
 for a mammoth hotel ! But hitherto a 
 kind Providence has made it impos 
 sible for anything to be here save on 
 the outermost verge, by the water, a 
 life-saving station; and on one of the 
 sand elevations a platform and one 
 long bench have been placed. To this 
 the State road leads. Here is solitude 
 desolation and wind from heaven 
 and from the sea. There is nothing in 
 this continent like the scene from the 
 top of the dune where the bench is 
 293
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 placed, and where the sand is already 
 caught and held by the roots of the 
 coarse grass. That rolling sea of shin 
 ing sand, blinding the eyes, and beyond 
 it the glittering, heaving line of the 
 ocean. It is all desolate, all fasci 
 nating. It is absolutely different from 
 any "resort. " It is naked nature. 
 
 When Mr. Riddle went away with 
 his book it was understood that he was 
 studying his part. Mr. Dunn some 
 times referred to this fact with a sneer 
 ing twist of his bad little face. He 
 said that Riddle was a bright fellow to 
 go out on the dunes nobody could 
 hear him there deuced lucky that 
 nobody could hear him. 
 
 Mr. Dunn was very kind to Delcina. 
 It seemed to us that he was always try 
 ing to get a chance to speak to her. 
 When she swept the piazza, of a morn 
 ing, though it was early, before break 
 fast, I often heard his voice, and 
 sometimes hers in reply. I could hear 
 him laugh. Then I said violently to 
 294
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Amabel that he was a viper, and how 
 could Delcina even speak to him? 
 
 But Amabel, if she were up, was at 
 such times usually writing in her day 
 book for the preceding twenty-four 
 hours. 
 
 Perhaps I might as well say now that 
 we saw a great deal of Mr. Riddle. 
 When we did not see him at the hotel 
 we were continually meeting him in the 
 desert places about the town ; and if I 
 chanced to be on the piazza alone he 
 appeared from somewhere, and either 
 sat down by me or asked me to row or 
 to walk. If I had had a day book I 
 should have confided to its pages some 
 thing about the expression of this 
 young man s eyes, and what he said. 
 
 And yet it was not so much what he 
 said as the way he said it. He told me 
 all about his hopes and ambitions ; he 
 begged for my advice in this matter 
 and that; he looked much more than 
 he said. 
 
 In the afternoon it was my custom to 
 295
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 have a nap, but Amabel was wakeful at 
 that time, and she was on the piazza, or 
 strolling about the quaint old town. 
 
 It was by accident that I discovered 
 that her companion was Mr. Riddle. I 
 call it accident, but it was really 
 Albert. Albert appeared to me one 
 day as I came down the stairs after 
 my sleep. 
 
 "You re too late," he announced. 
 
 "Too late for what?" 
 
 "For afternoon courtin . He s gone 
 with Am rowin over across to the 
 light." 
 
 "Don t be vulgar." 
 
 "Vulgar? Who s vulgar, I sh d like 
 to know? When you re round he 
 courts you; when Am s round he courts 
 her; when the Langthorne s round he 
 courts her. N he makes just the 
 same eyes to you all. I tell you, it 
 goes to my stomach. And I like Rid 
 dle first-rate when there ain t any petti 
 coats in sight. He s tiptop then. He 
 let me go over on the dunes once with 
 296
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 him and hear him say his part. I had 
 the book and gave him his cue. Oh, 
 wa n t it great, though?" 
 
 And Albert put a hand on each knee 
 and bent over. Then he straightened 
 up. "When he cur-r-rsed em I guess 
 they heard him over in Portu-gal; if 
 they did not they ought to be in a deaf 
 asylum. Come, let s go up on Town 
 Hill and squint through my new tele 
 scope." 
 
 Albert had set up a telescope, and 
 much of the time had it slung across 
 his shoulder. 
 
 So we went on Town Hill, and I sat 
 down on one of the benches facing the 
 town and the harbor, and Albert 
 walked about, leveling his glass here 
 and there. 
 
 Suddenly he cried out: "Oh, I say 
 now!" and then became silent, his 
 glass to his eye. The next moment 
 he exclaimed, "Oh, by George!" 
 
 He turned to me excitedly. 
 
 "You just look! Who is that out 
 297
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 there near the lighthouse more to 
 the right further to the right, I say! 
 Can t you see anything?" 
 
 It is rather a difficult thing to find 
 an object if you are not accustomed to 
 a telescope. 
 
 "Can t you see anything?" im 
 patiently. 
 
 "Yes a lot of things. Isn t that 
 Mr. Riddle s boat, and " 
 
 "Oh, I don t mean Riddle! Of 
 course you found him! You d find 
 him fast enough. Close to the land 
 in there at the right in that little boat 
 with the sail half flopping. Oh, what 
 fools they are!" 
 
 Albert had taken the glass again. 
 He found the object and bade me 
 stoop and look, without moving the 
 glass. 
 
 The next moment into the field of 
 vision there came a small boat with 
 two people in it, a man and a woman. 
 I could see the woman s face and 
 figure as she stood with one hand on 
 298
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 the mast. It was Delcina. Her hat 
 was off; I knew her air and attitude, 
 and could almost have recognized her 
 features. 
 
 The man was sitting at her feet, or 
 seemed to be; I thought he had her 
 hand. He was dressed in white; I 
 could not see his face at all. 
 
 The boat was rocking strangely, but 
 I ascribed the movement to the 
 unsteady way in which the glass was 
 held. 
 
 "Regular built fools!" cried Albert. 
 "And it s that tarnal muff of a Dunn. 
 Good nough for him, if she wasn t 
 with him. I sh d think she d know 
 something about boats, n that place 
 out there. The tide s wrong. Why 
 don t somebody yell at em? But 
 twouldn t do any good to yell. And 
 there re no boats round, either." 
 
 Albert had caught the glass away 
 from me, and was gazing as he relieved 
 himself of these exclamations. 
 
 With rny unaided vision I could only 
 299
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 see that there was a boat with flapping 
 sail at the right of the lighthouse, and 
 that there was no craft near save Mr. 
 Riddle s boat; and that was in the 
 middle distance between the town and 
 the light. 
 
 Albert seemed to forget that I might 
 wish to look. He went on with his 
 exclamations. I sat down again on the 
 bench. Why should I be specially 
 interested because Mr. Dunn and 
 Delcina were in a boat in a position 
 disapproved of by Albert Waldo? 
 
 In another moment I became aware 
 that others had ascended Town Hill and 
 were coming forward to view the scene. 
 
 "It s just too lovely for anything up 
 here; now isn t it, Mr. Easton?" 
 
 I interposed a shoulder between me 
 and the speaker, but it was of no use 
 Miss Langthorne recognized me with 
 a little shriek and came forward, ac 
 companied by a young man who had 
 arrived two days ago. She wanted to 
 look through the glass, and Albert sulk- 
 300
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 ily relinquished it. Mr. Easton stead 
 ied it, and after short laughs and many 
 half smothered cries that were ex 
 tremely fascinating, Miss Langthorne 
 succeeded in seeing something through 
 the telescope. 
 
 Then she suddenly dropped it and 
 cried : 
 
 "Oh, they ve tipped over! Ain t 
 that the waiter girl?" 
 
 Albert turned and dashed away, run 
 ning down the hill through the beach- 
 plum bushes rather than by the path. 
 
 I gathered up the glass and tried to 
 look through it, but I could not steady 
 it. Miss Langthorne uttered a series 
 of little squalls which she evidently 
 enjoyed. Mr. Easton endeavored to 
 calm her by saying that there wasn t 
 any danger, and there was a boat 
 making out to them. And everybody 
 could swim, of course. 
 
 I stood a moment with my hands on 
 the railing, looking rather blindly out 
 to the harbor. Two more boats had 
 301
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 started from somewhere and were 
 going as swiftly as possible toward that 
 spot where the bottom of a boat swayed 
 back and forth. But Mr. Riddle was 
 ahead, and it was he who picked up 
 Mr. Dunn, who was attending scru 
 pulously to his own safety, and then 
 Delcina was pulled out of the water. 
 It transpired afterward that Delcina 
 had assisted her companion. 
 
 When they were reached they were 
 both clinging to the slippery bottom of 
 the boat, which Dunn s ignorant care 
 lessness had upset. 
 
 I was on the wharf when Mr. Riddle 
 and Amabel came rowing in. Amabel 
 was almost as wet as though she her 
 self had been in the water; but she 
 was in great spirits. So was Mr. 
 Riddle. 
 
 Mr. Dunn was sitting sulkily shiver 
 ing; he was white about the mouth. 
 Delcina was in the stern, with a shawl 
 of Amabel s wrapped about her. 
 
 As soon as it was possible Dunn 
 302
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 sprang on to the wharf. He turned 
 and said ungraciously: 
 
 "I m no end obliged, Riddle." 
 
 "Oh, that s all right," was the 
 response. 
 
 Then Dunn darted up the street, and 
 Mr. Riddle glanced after him for one 
 instant, and I thought he said "Cur!" 
 in an undertone. 
 
 "I say now, Riddle," cried Albert, 
 who was helping Delcina to leave the 
 boat, "ain t you a one-er for picking 
 folks out of the water? I shan t dare to 
 go in swimming for fear you ll come and 
 pull me out just for glory, you know. 
 
 Delcina was on the wharf, the shawl 
 held closely to her. 
 
 "It was so good of you, Mr. Riddle," 
 she said in a low voice. 
 
 Then she also ran up the street. 
 
 Albert put his hands up to his mouth 
 and tooted a few bars of "See, the 
 Conquering Hero Comes," and Mr. 
 Riddle looked at him and grinned as 
 he bade him "shut up." 
 303
 
 S;AND N BUSHES 
 
 Then presently Amabel and I went 
 slowly toward the Pacific House. She 
 did not speak until we were in our own 
 room and she had put on a fresh gown. 
 I have omitted to make the important 
 statement that our trunks came on the 
 third day after our arrival, having gone 
 first to Marblehead, for the sole reason, 
 apparently, that they were marked 
 Provincetown. 
 
 Amabel took her day book in her 
 hands and sat down by the window. 
 I was -disappointed; it seemed incon 
 siderate in my friend. But she did not 
 open her book. She looked at me and 
 said emphatically: 
 
 "The miserable skunk!" 
 
 I asked her if her remark referred to 
 present company. 
 
 She did not reply. She went on in 
 this wise : 
 
 "The insufferable puppy!" 
 
 "Don t malign puppies in that way," 
 I remarked. 
 
 "And I do believe she loves him!" 
 304
 
 SAND N* BUSHES 
 
 "What?" I shouted; and then more 
 quietly, "You believe who loves 
 whom?" 
 
 I don t know now whether this 
 remark is grammar, but Amabel under 
 stood me. 
 
 "That lovely Delcina. There she 
 was out there with that gorilla. I will 
 never forgive him for looking as he 
 did when I rode up that day." 
 
 "You should have let him drown." 
 
 "Pooh! I couldn t. Mr. Riddle 
 was going to pick him up. You have 
 to save vermin, I suppose; they seem 
 necessary in the economy of the uni 
 verse. And there she was, helping 
 him she actually fished him up and 
 pulled him to the boat so that he could 
 cling to it." 
 
 "That doesn t prove that she loves 
 him, any more than your lending a 
 hand proves that you love him." 
 
 "I know that. I didn t say it did. 
 You must think I m an idiot. I saw 
 her watching him when he scrambled 
 
 305
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 out of the boat just now. She thought 
 he would at least glance at her. But 
 he didn t; he marched away; he was 
 thinking of his own wretched little 
 carcass. And he s been making love to 
 her all along. I ve seen it. " 
 
 "Do you call it making love to a girl 
 to offer her a half-dollar?" 
 
 "No; that was his mistake. It was 
 like the animal, to make a mistake like 
 that. 
 
 "I should think," I said severely, 
 "that a woman would find it hard to 
 forget that kind of a thing. Just sup 
 pose that Mr. Riddle should offer you 
 50 cents." 
 
 "Don t be silly." 
 
 But Amabel blushed; I could see 
 that she blushed, even through the 
 tan. 
 
 "Now I m on this subject," I 
 continued with a sudden determina 
 tion, "let us come to an understand 
 ing." 
 
 "What understanding?" 
 306
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Oh, I don t know yet that remains 
 to be seen. I m going to ask a few 
 questions." 
 
 "And I ll answer them if I choose." 
 
 "Yes. I shan t put you on the rack 
 if you don t. First, does Mr. Riddle 
 consult you about his part?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "Asks your interpretation of differ 
 ent passages?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "As if there were no one else in the 
 world whose opinion was of any value 
 to him?" 
 
 "Yes; and I ve persuaded him not to 
 give that dreadful trill to the letter 
 R." 
 
 "Oh, have you? So have I." 
 
 We looked at each other an instant. 
 Then I went on. 
 
 Has he told you all about his early 
 life?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And given you to understand that 
 he never speaks to others of those early 
 307
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 privations, but that something in you 
 and so forth?" 
 
 "He has. 
 
 "And is there a great deal of expres 
 sion in his eyes?" 
 
 "There is." 
 
 "And much tenderness in his voice?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "A general but strong intimation in 
 his manner that to you only and you 
 alone can he unveil his real self?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 "And have you sometimes felt that, 
 though you are older than he don t 
 wince, please you must be careful and 
 prevent him from declaring his affec 
 tion because you don t wish to hurt 
 him by a refusal?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 I leaned back in my chair. Amabel 
 looked down at her day book. She 
 fingered the leaves. 
 
 "There is one thing I nearly forgot. 
 It is this: Has Mr. Riddle hinted to 
 you that he would wish to have you for 
 308
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 a kind of conscience? That he could 
 not go far wrong if and so on?" 
 
 "He has." 
 
 "I thought so. He wants me for his 
 conscience, too. And I think Lilian 
 Langthorne is also to act in that ca 
 pacity. " 
 
 To my great surprise and consterna 
 tion, Amabel carefully put her day book 
 on the window shelf, drew out her 
 handkerchief and began to cry into it. 
 
 309
 
 XII 
 
 ON THE DUNES 
 
 At least I thought she was crying; 
 but after a moment I began to 
 doubt. 
 
 Presently Amabel lifted her head and 
 showed a face red with laughter. 
 
 "Why," she said, in a choked voice, 
 "I ve promised to be a conscience to 
 him." Another peal. "I thought I 
 could safely promise that." 
 
 "And a sister, too?" I asked. 
 
 "No, no a grandmother a grand 
 mother and a conscience." 
 
 Down went her face into her hand 
 kerchief again. Her shoulders shook. 
 
 "I m afraid," I began solicitously, 
 "that you are hysterical." 
 
 I was solemn enough myself. 
 
 "Oh, no; not in the least. But I 
 3"
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 didn t suppose he was going on the 
 same with you." 
 
 "What did you think we were talking 
 about?" 
 
 "Why why the latest discoveries 
 in science biology and and flying 
 machines. " 
 
 "It wouldn t make any difference 
 with Thomas J. Riddle. If he were 
 talking about electric rays of high 
 scintillation, and if he were alone with 
 a woman, he would give her the 
 impression that he was making love. 
 He wouldn t say so oh, no! but she 
 would be absolutely certain that she 
 was the only woman to whom he could 
 possibly speak in that tone. Why, 
 Amabel Waldo, there have been 
 moments when I ve believed that I 
 ought to be sorry for him because I 
 could not possibly return his feeling. 
 But you know you can t tell a man that 
 his love is hopeless, and you never can 
 be his, just because he is asking in a 
 peculiar tone and with a peculiar look 
 312
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 your interpretation of his part of the 
 One-Eyed Bandit of the Apennines. 
 Now, can you?" 
 
 "No, and you can t begin to snub 
 him now. He ll suspect that we sus 
 pect something, and I wouldn t have 
 him do that for ten thousand worlds. 
 He might believe that we were trying 
 to control our emotions. 
 
 "Amabel," I said, "there is one thing 
 we can do." 
 
 "What is it? Don t say it is poison. 
 There s my bowie-knife, you know; to 
 be sure, it is dull." 
 
 " Don t trifle. The thing for us to do 
 is to keep together. We have been too 
 much separated. Let us always meet 
 him in a solid phalanx. It will be hard 
 for even Mr. Riddle to cast glances at 
 us both at one and the same time." 
 
 "Then if you ever sit on the piazza. I 
 must be there, too; if you go off into 
 the waste spaces of Provincetown " 
 
 "Exactly. And when I have my nap 
 in the afternoon you must secrete your- 
 313
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 self. One must never, never, be seen 
 without the other. 
 
 "But I love to sit on Town Hill I 
 love to go rowing I love to ride to the 
 dunes I love to do all these things 
 while you are sleeping in the after 
 noons." 
 
 "I will sacrifice my nap." 
 
 "You noble creature! Speaking of 
 noble creatures how lovely Mr. Riddle 
 has always been about my reformation ! 
 I could quite dote on him for that." 
 
 "Your reformation?" 
 
 "Yes; the cross-tree, you know." 
 
 "Well, you ma) dote on him all you 
 please, but beware of letting him know 
 it. It is not good for a man to know 
 that a woman dotes on him." 
 
 So we began. We didn t even go 
 down the stairs alone. If Amabel 
 stepped outside our door I stepped also. 
 We rode and rowed together until we 
 overheard Miss Langthorne say to Mr. 
 Dunn that we were worse than the 
 Siamese twins, for they could have been 
 
 314
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 separated if you had cut them apart; 
 but as for those two women, no knives 
 could cut their loves in two. 
 
 Mr. Riddle did not slacken in his 
 attention for three days, but, of course, 
 he was obliged to give up his glances, 
 and what Amabel called his "low 
 notes." 
 
 On the fourth day we began to be 
 quite sure that unless he could seem 
 tender he lost his interest; "he back 
 slid," Amabel said. We were excess 
 ively pleasant to him. Albert looked 
 on scowlingly. He informed us that 
 there were other men in the world 
 besides Tom Riddle ; there was Dunn, 
 for instance, whereat Amabel remarked 
 that she wished that the spectacle of 
 Dunn, staging and smiling at Delcina, 
 might be removed from before her 
 eyes. 
 
 Albert chuckled and asserted that he 
 knew a thing or two that we would 
 give anything to know. He added that 
 women thought that they could see
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 through a ladder with half the rungs 
 knocked out, but they couldn t; they 
 were blinder than a two-days-old 
 kitten. 
 
 "What are you talking about?" 
 
 "Nothing not a thing. I didn t 
 speak, did I?" 
 
 Albert rolled his eyes and puckered 
 his mouth and became silent. 
 
 It was in the afternoon of that day 
 that the boy fell on his dirk, not on the 
 handle of it, as he should have done if 
 he were going to fall on it at all, but 
 on the point. 
 
 This accident his sister and I had 
 long felt was sure to happen some 
 time, but as it had been so long 
 delayed we had ceased to think so much 
 about it. 
 
 We were riding toward the Dunes 
 along the State road. This highway 
 is tolerable for the bicycle rider, and 
 Albert was on his wheel. We had 
 passed the wood of stunted trees, and 
 could see the ocean ahead of us. 
 316
 
 SANDi N BUSHES 
 
 Albert was in front ; his wheel suddenly 
 twisted up over a gnarled root and he 
 bounced off it as if he had been flung 
 from a catapult. 
 
 "Oh, do you think he had his dirk on 
 him?" cried Amabel, as she slipped out 
 of her saddle. 
 
 I was about to follow her example 
 when she said: 
 
 "Don t you do it! You know you 
 can t get on. And you may have to 
 go back for help. 
 
 This was great presence of mind, 
 and I obeyed. I rode as near as I 
 could. 
 
 Albert was sitting up in the dust. 
 He told us we needn t be afraid; he 
 was all right. 
 
 He was dressed in white sweater, 
 white riding breeches and white stock 
 ings and shoes. I saw a dark streak 
 soaking slowly down the stockings. 
 
 "Then why don t you get up if 
 you re all right?" asked Amabel, rather 
 tremulously. 
 
 317
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 " Cause I thought I d rest." 
 
 But Albert put his right hand down 
 on the ground and made an effort to 
 rise, and was unsuccessful. 
 
 "I guess I ve cut me," he now 
 remarked. 
 
 It s the dirk ! Oh, Albert ! 
 
 "You needn t Oh, Albert! " im 
 patiently. "It s it s the fortune of 
 war. Pull her out, can t you?" 
 
 Amabel was bending over him. 
 
 "The dirk? Does it hurt now?" 
 
 "Hurt now? You bet!" 
 
 Amabel put her hand beneath his 
 belt, found the handle and jerked out 
 the weapon, flinging it off among the 
 ferns. 
 
 "Don t you fling it away! Go n get 
 it! Go n get it, I tell you! I ain t 
 going to lose that. I m going to wear 
 it again." 
 
 His tone was so peremptory and he 
 looked so distressed that Amabel 
 hurried after the weapon, which she 
 placed in her brother s hand.
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Can you stand up?" she asked. 
 
 "Stand up? Of course I can. But 
 don t let it bleed, though!" 
 
 It did bleed. The stocking was 
 growing dark fast. 
 
 "Go back and get a carriage!" 
 Amabel commanded shortly. 
 
 The Thane went at a good gallop. 
 It was Delcina whom I first saw when 
 I reached the town, and it was she who 
 had a horse and carriage so quickly 
 ready that I had no time to be impa 
 tient ; it was she also who found a doctor 
 and took him in the carriage with her, 
 driving fast while I followed them. 
 
 Amabel was sitting in the middle of 
 the road with Albert leaning against 
 her. She had tied up his leg above the 
 wound, but the place looked as if it 
 were soaked in blood. The boy was 
 rather white; still he hastened to say 
 that it was not the fault of the dirk or 
 the wheel, but of that thundering 
 twisted root in the road. In spite of 
 his words his tone had not its usual 
 319
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 strident assertiveness. And when he 
 was lifted into the wagon after the 
 doctor had temporarily dressed the 
 hurt, he sank back against his sister s 
 shoulder and closed his eyes. Amabel s 
 face was almost as colorless as his. 
 As for me, there was mingled in my 
 regret for the boy s misfortune a very 
 decided feeling of indignation that he 
 should have insisted upon wearing that 
 dirk. He was bound, sooner or later, 
 to be injured by it. 
 
 I rode by the forward wheel ; it was 
 an open carriage of the kind we call a 
 democrat. Hitched to the axle behind 
 was Amabel s horse. The doctor and 
 Delcina were on the front seat, and 
 Delcina was driving. The wind had 
 blown her hat off, and there was no 
 chance to recover it. It all came over 
 me again, how very pretty this girl 
 was, with such sweet eyes and such a 
 gentle way of speaking. What a hor 
 rible thing it was that she should care 
 for a little beast like Dunn ! She really 
 320
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 ought to be shut up rather than be let 
 to marry him. But perhaps he was 
 only amusing himself with her while 
 he was down here. 
 
 We went at a good pace, and had 
 nearly reached the town, having passed 
 the cemetery, which seems more popu 
 lous than the dwelling-place of the 
 living. Albert opened his eyes and 
 moved his head fretfully. 
 
 "I ain t going to that hotel," he said. 
 
 "Oh, yes," responded Amabel, sooth 
 ingly. "We must go there until you 
 get well. 
 
 "I tell you no no! It s so noisy 
 there everybody slams and Dunn is 
 there. I won t go." 
 
 "Bat you must." 
 
 "But I won t. I tell you what, take 
 me to Pedro s he ll have me. He s a 
 brick. He s got a little room like a 
 ship s cabin he said I could sleep in 
 that room if I came down next summer, 
 and I m coming to fish. I ll go there 
 now I will go there now ! 
 321
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Delcina had pulled in the horse. 
 
 "I don t know who Pedro is," said 
 Amabel helplessly. 
 
 "He s a Portugee that lives out 
 here behind the town, said the doctor ; 
 "wife can t walk; queer case, hers is." 
 
 "Why, it s Sarah Ramsey that mar 
 ried a Portugee!" I exclaimed, and I 
 added that, of course, they couldn t 
 have him. 
 
 But Albert asserted and asserted. 
 He said he knew Pedro; had been 
 fishing lots with him ; Pedro would be 
 splendid to take care of him, and 
 Amabel might come when she chose ; 
 he should get \vell twice as quick 
 there. 
 
 It soon became apparent that nothing 
 would do but that we must at least 
 drive to Pedro s. It was no time to 
 cross any whim of Albert s. The boy 
 sank back again on his sister s shoulder. 
 
 "That s the talk," he said. "You 
 bring my traps over from the hotel. 
 We ll pay Pedro as much as I m paying 
 322
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 at the Pacific. He ll be all right. It s 
 just prime there." 
 
 So the horse was turned from the 
 town into the cart path that but indis 
 tinctly marked the way among the 
 bushes toward the solitary house. 
 
 A tall man with a lean, dark face was 
 throwing some corn to the hens in 
 front of the house. The door was 
 open, and the little girl could be seen 
 on her knees scrubbing the floor. She 
 paused at the sight of us, remain 
 ing on all fours as she gazed at us, the 
 hot water in her small wooden tub 
 making a mist about her. 
 
 "Sarah," a voice called, "who is it?" 
 
 "Folks from the hotel them 
 women," was the shrill reply. 
 
 Meantime the tall man advanced to 
 the carriage and leaned on the wheel. 
 He had very kind eyes; a spare gray 
 mustache curled in over his upper lip. 
 
 "Hullo, boy," he said, looking at 
 Albert, "you white seaseek, eh?" 
 
 "No, no. You tell him, Am. That s 
 323
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Pedro. Tell him I ve got to stay 
 here. 
 
 Amabel leaned forward and quickly 
 made known our errand. 
 
 "I want the cabin, you know, Pedro, 
 from Albert. 
 
 "Yes, yes. You shall haf it. All 
 ready. Sarah," turning, "you go open 
 de cabin door. Come." 
 
 The man went to the back of the 
 wagon, pushed the seat forward a 
 little, let down the tail piece and 
 extended his arms. While he was 
 doing this the voice in the house asked : 
 
 "Sarah, what do they want? Sarah, 
 I say, what do they want?" 
 
 "I don t know, ma." 
 
 Then Sarah disappeared, and we 
 heard a door open. Meantime, two 
 hens walked in on to the freshly washed 
 floor, somebody said "Shoo! shoo!" 
 violently, and the hens walked out. 
 
 I was aware of all this, though I was 
 absorbingly watching Pedro as he lifted 
 Albert from the carriage with ease and 
 324
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 walked with him in his arms into the 
 house. 
 
 Amabel and the doctor followed. I 
 sat my horse in the hot sunshine and 
 smelled the keen odor of the bayberry 
 which The Thane was trampling with 
 an impatient forefoot. 
 
 Since I had seen Pedro s face with 
 its look of warm humanity I did not 
 wonder at Albert s determination. 
 
 Delcina was in the democrat, holding 
 the lines, not blinking in the least in 
 the sunlight. Two or three times we 
 heard a voice say, "Sarah! where are 
 you, Sarah?" 
 
 At last Delcina left the carriage and 
 went into the house, and from the mur 
 mur of her tones I knew she was 
 explaining what had happened to the 
 woman who sat there in her chair 
 waiting to be told. 
 
 At last Amabel came out. She 
 looked relieved, though anxious. 
 
 "It s all right about Pedro," she 
 said hurriedly. "There couldn t be 
 325
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 anybody better. He s lovely and so 
 strong. I ll stay here to-day." 
 
 So I rode home, and Delcina drove 
 the horse in the democrat, and the led 
 horse was on behind. Miss Lang- 
 thorne and Mr. Riddle were just com 
 ing up from the wharf, and had turned 
 into the lane where the Pacific House 
 stood. Mr. Riddle s head was bent 
 down toward Miss Langthorne, and she 
 was looking up at him, and as she 
 looked up she saw us and her expres 
 sion instantly changed. I could not 
 help glancing to see if Delcina had 
 noticed these two. She was gazing 
 with serious, questioning eyes at them ; 
 her delicate mouth drooped slightly. 
 She was evidently considering these 
 people as a kind of puzzle, not really 
 expecting to understand it. 
 
 Miss Langthorne was in a blue 
 yachting suit, with a sailor hat whose 
 blue ribbons had silver anchors in high 
 relief on them. She was also in great 
 spirits, and she came forward and asked 
 326
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 glibly why we were out in such a pro 
 cession, and "did we know what a per 
 fectly, perfectly" very emphatic on 
 the last word. "lovely day it was 
 only Sue Cummings had been sick." 
 As for her, Lilian Langthorne, she had 
 never been seasick in her life. She 
 hadn t the least idea what the sensation 
 was. Everybody wondered at her for 
 being such a good sailor. 
 
 She laughed, and hummed in a small 
 treble 
 
 Oh, the sea ! the sea ! the ever free ! 
 
 And then she glanced at Mr. Riddle, 
 who was occupied in looking at us. 
 Down at the steps that led into the lane 
 Miss Cummings appeared, very white 
 and miserable as to her face and 
 languid as to her gait. 
 
 "Where is Miss Waldo?" asked Mr. 
 Riddle. 
 
 "To be sure!" from Miss Lang 
 thorne. "That is her saddle, ain t it? 
 though I can t make it seem as if it 
 327
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 belonged to a woman, can you, Mr. 
 Riddle?" 
 
 And so on. I turned my horse short 
 about and rode to the stable, followed 
 by Delcina in the democrat, with 
 Amabel s horse coming on in a melan 
 choly manner behind. 
 
 I walked back with Delcina. She 
 hurried. She said that she should be 
 late at her work. Her face kept on its 
 serious expression, the soft eyes even 
 becoming wistful. At the door of the 
 hotel she paused and looked at me. 
 
 "Please tell your friend not to worry 
 about her brother. Pedro will take 
 such good care of him ; Pedro is as kind 
 as" she hesitated, then, with a sor 
 rowful little smile, "as kind as a Por- 
 tugee and that s kind enough." 
 
 She ran up the stairs. At dinner she 
 was waiting on the table with the 
 silent, deft haste which was character 
 istic of her. Mr. Dunn was in his 
 place. He was very wordy about a 
 visit he had paid to a yacht that had
 
 SAND N 1 BUSHES 
 
 come into the harbor late the night 
 before. It belonged to a friend of his, 
 "Ned," he called him. It seemed that 
 Ned was strongly desirous that Dunn 
 should leave Provincetown and join 
 him on a cruise down the coast. Dunn 
 couldn t make up his mind. 
 
 All the time he was talking he kept 
 his eye upon Delcina, who was standing 
 at the end of the room, watching to 
 see what was needed. When at last she 
 passed round the table behind him he 
 put his hand down and touched her 
 hand. I was sure he succeeded in 
 touching it from the scarlet that flew 
 into her face. She hastened on. 
 
 I raised my eyes and saw Mr. Riddle 
 looking at Dunn. Riddle s face was 
 as white as anything so brown could 
 be, and his eyes were blazing. He soon 
 rose and left the room. After a time 
 Mr. Dunn leisurely strolled out. 
 
 It was in the latter part of the after 
 noon that, going out to visit Pedro s 
 house by way of Town Hill, I was 
 329
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 joined by Mr. Riddle. He was very 
 red and heated, and breathed as if he 
 had been hurrying up the hill. But he 
 endeavored to speak in a calm way. 
 He announced that he had been to 
 Pedro s and everything was going on 
 well. Was I in a great hurry? Would 
 I sit down on one of these benches for 
 a moment? Miss Waldo would come 
 back to the hotel in the evening; he 
 was going for her. 
 
 "Yes," I thought, "and how tenderly 
 sympathetic you will be ! " 
 
 I refrained from telling him that 
 Miss Waldo was perfectly able to walk 
 alone from Pedro s to the Pacific House. 
 I decided to be at Pedro s, so that on 
 the return the phalanx of two should 
 not be broken. 
 
 Mr. Riddle took off his straw hat and 
 fanned himself. I sat on the bench 
 and looked out over the harbor, which 
 was lying gray beneath a sultry, cloudy 
 sky. 
 
 Suddenly my companion put on his 
 330
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 hat in a forcible manner. He thrust 
 his hands into his pockets. 
 
 "Well," he said, expelling his breath 
 sharply, "I ve been and done it. I 
 knew I should have to some day." 
 
 "Done what!" 
 
 "Yes, it was bound to come." 
 
 "What was bound to come?" I was 
 getting excited. 
 
 Why, the thrashing. 
 
 I stood up suddenly. 
 
 "Oh," I cried, "I do hope it s Mr. 
 Dunn!" 
 
 "Yes," sardonically, "that s pre 
 cisely the animal." 
 
 I laughed. I m afraid I clapped my 
 hands. Then I remembered that there 
 were other people on other benches on 
 the hill, and I tried to restrain myself. 
 
 "Perhaps it s not the thing to tell 
 you, but I feel as if I must tell some 
 body. " 
 
 "Yes, it is precisely the thing to tell 
 me," I responded. I glanced about 
 me. "Where is Mr. Dunn now?" 
 33i
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Mr. Riddle laughed. 
 
 "He s out on the dunes resting. 
 And he s got a red mark across his 
 face. I suppose I ought not to have 
 given it to him." 
 
 "I saw him at table," I remarked. 
 
 Mr. Riddle s eyes flashed, and he 
 shut his mouth until it was little more 
 than a white line. Then he opened his 
 lips to say that he also saw Dunn at 
 table. 
 
 "I went away as fast as I could," he 
 went on, "for I knew if I happened to 
 see him I should hit out at him in spite 
 of myself, and it would not be a pretty 
 thing to do on the piazza there, for 
 instance ; we might knock down some 
 lady in the scrimmage." Here the 
 young man laughed again, this time 
 with some bitterness. 
 
 "Of course, I was a fool to touch 
 him, but I was mighty careful to 
 pretend it was something else I was 
 thinking of. And I really did mean to 
 keep out of his way until I had cooled 
 332
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 off a little. A man does not want to 
 soil his hands, you know." Here Mr. 
 Riddle flung up his head with a fine 
 air that was genuine, I was sure, though 
 it was a trifle dramatic. I wouldn t 
 smile; I sat solemnly silent, listening. 
 "Yes, I did mean to steer clear of 
 him, so I rushed off down across 
 country here back of Pedro s to the 
 sands. And I tried to think of my 
 Part and your interpretation of the 
 Bandit, you know" here a swift 
 glance "but it wasn t of much use; I 
 was too thundering angry. I had that 
 little Malacca cane with me no I 
 haven t got it now it s broken. I 
 ploughed along through the heavy 
 sand toward the life-saving station. 
 There re one or two good fellows over 
 there, and I thought I d have a game 
 of high-low; we ve had a notion of 
 playing high-low just for quarters, and 
 fun, you know. Well, it took up my 
 mind, getting through that sand, and 
 by the time I stepped into the house I 
 333
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 didn t think of much else but that I 
 must have a drink of something cold. 
 There was Dunn stretched out in a 
 canvas chair in his eternal white duck, 
 with a glass of something iced in his 
 hand, sipping it and telling some story. 
 He always has a look on his face when 
 he is talking as if he were telling some 
 thing vile. The seeing him turned me 
 hotter than I was. I nodded and sat 
 down in the doorway. 
 
 "There were cards on a table, and 
 after a while we began to play. I was 
 longing to find that Dunn cheated, but 
 I don t think he did. The sight of his 
 pallid little face there near me was 
 unendurable. I bore it as long as I 
 could, but finally I started up. He 
 said something about my being afraid 
 to play for fear I d lose my quarters, 
 and I told him he was a fool and a 
 scamp. Then I flung out of the house 
 and started back over the sands. I 
 heard him laugh as I went. After 
 about half a mile I sat down in the 
 
 334
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 shade of one of those sand hillocks and 
 began to smoke. I knew I d been 
 wrong in calling him what I did, tinder 
 the circumstances, and that knowledge 
 didn t soothe me. 
 
 "You can t hear footsteps in the sand 
 very well, and I hadn t heard a thing 
 when about an hour later Dunn walked 
 into view. He stopped quick when he 
 saw me and looked as if he wished he 
 could turn back, but he couldn t very 
 well, so he gave his little laugh that 
 always sets my teeth on edge. 
 
 "He took his cigarette out of his 
 mouth and remarked that he s posed 
 the dunes weren t private property, 
 and he wasn t intruding. 
 
 "I was on my feet by this time. If 
 he hadn t laughed once more I don t 
 think I should have done what I did. 
 But I said, quite calm and cold : 
 
 You re a dirty skunk, and you know 
 it. 
 
 "He fell back a step. 
 
 Oh, come now! he cried, and 
 335
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 lifted up one arm as if in defense. 
 Then he said, Same to you. Are you 
 rehearsing? 
 
 "He chuckled. He took a puff at 
 his cigarette and flung it away. You 
 know his way of half shutting his eyes. 
 He did that now. I made a step 
 nearer and struck him across the face. 
 I was thinking of how he had behaved 
 at table, and I struck him again. I 
 could hear the whizz of my cane 
 through the hot air, and the sound 
 drove me on. I should have given it 
 to him again, only the second time the 
 stick broke short off and I flung the 
 top of it at him. 
 
 "One blow had landed fair on his 
 face, but the other had hit his doubled- 
 up arm. 
 
 "He made a sound; I didn t know 
 whether it was a curse or a groan. I 
 didn t wait to hear. I walked off. He 
 shouted after me that I should hear 
 from this. I wheeled and shouted 
 back, All right! I m ready! then I 
 336
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 kept on. When I came down into the 
 street I looked up and saw you here. 
 I couldn t help coming and telling you. 
 It s all ridiculous, isn t it? But some 
 body had to abate that creature. I 
 might as well be the one. Don t you 
 think I might as well be the one?" 
 
 As he asked this question Mr. Riddle 
 raised his hat to a couple of ladies who 
 were sauntering round the path that 
 led to the railing. They were looking 
 off at the beautiful picture the harbor 
 made, with its protecting strips of 
 land on the outermost verge of the 
 water. They smiled at my companion 
 in that way that women usually smiled 
 at him. They seemed about to pause 
 to enter into conversation with him, 
 but they went on, uttering exclamations 
 of delight at the outlook. 
 
 "Two Boston ladies who came down 
 in the boat yesterday," said Mr. 
 Riddle, explanatorily. "They re stop 
 ping at the Harbor Inn. They know 
 Dunn." A slight pause, and then, 
 337
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 with a constrained laugh, "In fact, that 
 elder one is Dunn s aunt, and the other 
 one is his sister." 
 
 "Oh!" I cried. 
 
 "Odd, isn t it? But I don t know 
 why he shouldn t have an aunt and a 
 sister. Wonder what they d say to me 
 if they knew what I d been doing-?" 
 
 "That younger one sister, I sup 
 pose wouldn t smile as sweetly as she 
 did just now." 
 
 "By Jove! I m sure they d hate me. 
 Wonder what Dunn will say gave him 
 that welt down his mug. 
 
 I wondered, too. And I looked very 
 earnestly for Mr. Dunn to appear at 
 breakfast the next morning. I sug 
 gested to Amabel, to whom I had 
 related the above tale, that the young 
 man would remove himself to the Har 
 bor Inn, that he might be with his 
 relatives. But he did no such thing. 
 Perhaps his society was not of the kind 
 adored by female relatives in general. 
 He did not appear at the table at his 
 338
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 usual time until the next day at dinner, 
 and then he had a dark line across his 
 nose and one cheek. He paid no atten 
 tion to anything but his dinner, save 
 that once I saw him look up at Mr. 
 Riddle when the latter made some 
 remark. He looked very evil, but his 
 general appearance was so ineffective 
 that I was not anxious. Amabel saw 
 the expression, and she remarked that 
 Dunn was a little snake, and snakes 
 sometimes bit the heel that had tramped 
 on them. I watched Delcina that day 
 to see what would be her expression 
 when she saw Dunn. She was startled. 
 A wave of faint color rose and subsided 
 on her face. The hand that was carry 
 ing a soup plate trembled slightly. I 
 think it was from that moment, rather 
 than from the time when I had listened 
 to Mr. Riddle s story, that I had the 
 first feeling as if I were living quite 
 close to some kind of a story, a story 
 that might burst out into a bit of melo 
 drama at any time. I had a wish to go 
 
 339
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 to Delcina and remonstrate with her 
 for being interested in such a wretched 
 cad as Dunn. How in the world had 
 he won her interest? But I did not say 
 a word to her. On second thought I 
 knew better than to meddle where I 
 had no shade of right to meddle. 
 What was it to me? And perhaps Dunn 
 was really an exemplary young man 
 with a face and manner that traduced 
 him. Perhaps face and manner did 
 traduce sometimes, though I did not 
 believe it. 
 
 We spent a great deal of time at 
 Pedro s. We heard again and again 
 all about the ailments of Sarah Ram 
 sey, that married a Portugee. And 
 we saw much of Pedro, and grew to be 
 as fond of him as was Albert. 
 
 As for Albert, he was in the bunk 
 that was built into the side of the 
 cabin. The cabin was a bit of a "lean- 
 to" on the back of the house. It was 
 about two and a half paces long and 
 two paces broad ; it was painted milk- 
 340
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 white with gilt edges ; it had a port-hole 
 at one end, and when the sea wasn t 
 too heavy this port-hole was uncovered. 
 A shelf was screwed on to the wall on 
 the side where the bunk was not. 
 There was a stool in the place ; on this 
 stool Pedro sat, although there was no 
 reason why he should not have had a 
 rocking-chair and been comfortable. 
 When reasoned with upon this subject 
 he smiled and said he was used to it.
 
 XIII 
 
 FAREWELL, PROVINCETOWN 
 
 Of course it was much more difficult 
 to take care of Albert in a bunk in a 
 cabin than it would have been to care 
 for him in an ordinary bed in an ordi 
 nary room. But this arrangement 
 afforded him such happiness that no 
 one felt to deprive him of it. 
 
 Amabel at first asked him with 
 pathetic earnestness if he would really 
 rather be screwed up against the wall 
 than in a Christian bed, and he 
 answered, "A million times rather!" 
 so she desisted. 
 
 Tain t much of a cut, he remarked, 
 rather boastfully. 
 
 Amabel and I were in the cabin, or 
 
 rather Amabel was in it and I was as 
 
 nearly in as I could get. The port-hole 
 
 was open, and a breath of air came in 
 
 343
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 occasionally. Sarah. Ramsey, the 
 younger, was standing directly behind 
 me with a plate and dish-towel in her 
 hand. She was apparently "doing" 
 the dinner dishes. She was clad in the 
 frock which had fluttered about her at 
 our first interview, but her mother had 
 sewed up the long rents in it. She 
 was evidently straining every nerve to 
 hear what was being said in the cabin. 
 
 "Sarah Ramsey," called her mother 
 from the chair, "your dish-water 11 be 
 as cold as stone. 
 
 "No, ma am." 
 
 "Yes, it will; and you can t get the 
 fat off that fry-pan with cold water." 
 
 "Yes, ma am, I can, too." And the 
 child continued in her position. 
 
 "No," said Albert, " tain t much of 
 a cut. Any other feller that had got a 
 header s I did with a dirk hitched on to 
 him would have taken his leg clean off. 
 
 "Perhaps," suggested his sister, "you 
 can take your leg clean off next time. 
 
 "That s just like you." 
 
 344
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Albert had a paper-covered edition of 
 "The One-Legged Apache of the Salt 
 Plains" open on his chest, and he was 
 fingering the leaves as if impatient for 
 his visitors to leave him; but as we 
 showed no signs of going, he asked 
 how that Langthorne woman was. We 
 replied that she seemed very well, 
 indeed. Then he inquired who was 
 her first flirter now; and we said we 
 didn t know, whereupon Albert laughed 
 and retorted that we did know, too ; it 
 was Riddle, of course. 
 
 Then he made us tell him all over 
 again about the encounter wherein Mr. 
 Riddle had broken his cane upon Mr. 
 Dunn s face; and once more Amabel 
 warned him not to laugh so much, for 
 he would burst open the stitches the 
 doctor had taken in his flesh and that 
 dreadful bleeding might begin again. 
 But Albert knew better. Still he, 
 restrained his laughter somewhat. 
 
 He opened the One-Legged Apache 
 ostentatiously, but we did not budge. 
 345
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Can t I do something for you?" 
 asked Amabel. "Mayn t I rub your 
 back, or " 
 
 "Oh, bosh! What do you think I 
 want my back rubbed for? My back s 
 all right. Ain t this a jolly cabin, 
 though? Pedro built it himself. It s 
 really his room, you know, and I ve 
 turned him out. He sleeps on the floor 
 here; it s just big enough. And he 
 never heard about Peggotty s house; 
 I asked him. I say, what s really the 
 matter with the old lady there? Sarah 
 Ramsey says she s ossifying." 
 
 "So she is," in a small pipe from 
 Sarah Ramsey, who had gone to the 
 sink and procured a pudding-dish, 
 which she was now wiping in her 
 former position behind me. 
 
 "That s a good one," with a silent 
 giggle. I say, abruptly changing the 
 subject, "how many pieces does the 
 Langthorne woman have at her belt 
 now?" 
 
 "She has added a small silver cup 
 346
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 and saucer," I said, over Amabel s 
 head. Amabel was on the stool close 
 to the bunk. 
 
 I should state that we had been in the 
 habit of "keeping count" of Miss 
 Langthorne s objects at her belt. 
 Attached to a tailor-made suit which 
 she sometimes wore on a cool day was 
 a belt, and at the left side of this belt 
 were the following articles, all of silver : 
 One vinaigrette, one small oblong 
 purse, one heart about three inches 
 across, one tiny revolver, one button 
 hook, one article of a book shape, one 
 Turkish scimiter, one Greek cross, and 
 now one cup and saucer fastened to 
 each other by a chain. All these 
 things had chains, and they all jingled 
 when she moved. In this suit one could 
 hear her approach, and be ready braced 
 for the incisive attack of her voice. 
 
 "Oh!" cried Albert, "ain t it funny 
 what Riddle can see in that girl?" 
 
 He looked sharply from Amabel to 
 me. 
 
 347
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "I suppose she is very entertaining," 
 said Amabel, demurely. And Albert 
 said, "So s a lien." 
 
 This remark terminated our inter 
 view at this time. We retired from the 
 cabin and were obliged to sit down in 
 the kitchen, where the small child 
 resumed with a clatter the washing of 
 dishes, and where Mrs. Gonzaga called 
 here Gungegy told us all about her 
 bones, and what the doctors had said 
 regarding them. This familiar tale 
 buzzed languidly in our ears as the flies 
 buzzed about some fish heads which 
 Pedro had unwisely left on the ground 
 near the door. 
 
 At last, just as the doctor from Bos 
 ton, attracted by the fame of her case, 
 had come down to examine for himself, 
 Pedro s wife interrupted her narrative 
 to exclaim: 
 
 "Sarah Ramsey, you go n git them 
 fish heads n put um in the stove. We 
 sh ll be eat up alive here with flies!" 
 
 But before Sarah could step from the 
 
 343
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 door, a tawny, waddling puppy rose 
 from beneath a beach plum bush 
 where he had been burrowing in the 
 sand, came forward and took one fish 
 head, standing over the remaining two 
 in a protective attitude. The flies 
 buzzed up, then settled down again on 
 dog s nose and the fish. 
 
 "I can t get um Trooper s got um," 
 explained Sarah. 
 
 The next moment they had all dis 
 appeared down the dog s throat, and he 
 came lazily forward, the bright sunlight 
 making his eyes look sleepy. 
 
 "I hope you like him better than a 
 kitten," remarked Amabel. 
 
 It was she who, stung by an unsleep 
 ing conscience, had procured this St. 
 Bernard puppy and presented it to the 
 young Sarah Ramsey as a substitute 
 for the lost kitten. 
 
 There were five Bernard puppies 
 
 growing up, in a yard nearly opposite 
 
 the Pacific House. If we had not seen 
 
 them we should have known they were 
 
 349
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 there, for one or more of the five were 
 always barking, or whining, or crying 
 acutely under maternal chastisement. 
 They were attractive persons, with 
 their thick legs and big feet, and their 
 broad, intelligent heads. My friend 
 informed me that there were two 
 reasons why she negotiated for one of 
 these dogs, one reason being that she 
 could present it to Sarah Ramsey as a 
 sort of atonement, the other. that if one 
 were removed from that yard there 
 would be one less to cry and bark in 
 the hours between 12 and 3 a. m. She 
 says she loves dogs, but she needs sleep 
 during the above hours. She has 
 spoken feelingly of the possibility of 
 administering soothing syrup, but the 
 canine mother is on guard at all times. 
 These puppies are very agreeable 
 when we pass by the fence during the 
 day. They come tumbling forward 
 and put their noses between the 
 palings, wriggling their fat bodies and 
 wagging their undeveloped tails. You 
 350
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 want to hug them. When Amabel had 
 secured one we took him, by a rope and 
 some pulling, up to our room, where 
 we did hug him, before leading him to 
 the Gonzagas. 
 
 It was rather hard work, leading him 
 away from his mother and his brethren. 
 Several times he lay down on his 
 belly and required to be hauled instead 
 of being led, emitting dismal, remon 
 strating cries during the process. 
 
 When we were beyond the hill and 
 halfway along the path to Pedro s we 
 sat down exhausted. The instant we 
 ceased hauling, the puppy sprang upon 
 us with such thankful joy that con 
 science smote us. He seemed to think 
 that we had relented, and would pres 
 ently take him back to his birthplace. 
 
 It was here that we were joined by 
 Mr. Riddle, who took the animal up in 
 his arms and carried him to his des 
 tination. The little Gonzaga girl was 
 so overcome with joy at the thought 
 that the dog was hers that she almost 
 35i
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 strangled it in her embraces. She 
 instantly named it Trooper, evidently 
 having that name in her mind "against 
 the time" when she might need it. 
 
 Trooper cried all the first night, and 
 was at last taken into Sarah Ramsey s 
 bed, but refused to be comforted until 
 in the middle of the next forenoon, when 
 he suddenly ceased his moans and has 
 been happy ever since. And Sarah 
 Ramsey, according to her mother, 
 "jest worships that dog. There ain t 
 nothin too good for him." The 
 woman sometimes wonders whether so 
 much fish will agree with him. She 
 says that when fish does agree with a 
 person it agrees better than anything 
 
 she ever knew; but if it does not 
 
 Here she left a blank in her speech, 
 and our imagination was stimulated as 
 to the fate of a being with whom fish 
 didn t agree, but who had partaken of 
 it. 
 
 "As for me," said Mrs. Gonzaga, in 
 her pleasant drawl, "I m one that has 
 352
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 all kinds of sea victuals set well on my 
 stomach. If I wa n t, I d know what I 
 should have done, livin on the cape. 
 But there never was nobody equal to 
 Pedro for cookin fish. You d ought 
 to eat some of his broiled cod 
 
 "That s so," with unction from the 
 cabin. 
 
 "Now, cod s a real common thing 
 down here, but somehow Pedro 11 make 
 it taste well, I wish you d come out 
 here n try it some day and a chow 
 der. Yes, sea victuals seem to be just 
 the thing for me. And then to be a 
 settin here and be able to see all that 
 glory" sweeping her hand toward the 
 stretch of desert about her "to see it 
 with the^east rain slantin down on it, 
 or all wrapped up in fog, and layin 
 still and listenin to the waves that 
 pound out there on the beach; n then 
 to see the sun when it first touches the 
 bushes but I do feel to wish that they 
 hadn t put up that water tank out 
 there ; it hinders my view of the sand 
 353
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 in that direction. Don t I hear some 
 body out in the bushes there?" 
 
 This question was asked suddenly, 
 and the speaker leaned forward to peer 
 through the doorway. 
 
 There was a step, and then I heard a 
 little clash, as of metal on metal, and 
 I instantly knew that Miss Langthorne 
 was approaching, and that the trophies 
 at her belt were smiting each other. 
 
 "Shut this door!" called out Albert 
 peremptorily, and his sister obeyed, 
 although the action seemed like fasten 
 ing her brother in a box. 
 
 Miss Langthorne came tripping in. 
 She had brought her friend Sue with 
 her. She had also brought an offering 
 of fruit for Albert. She said effusively 
 that she had heard he had severed three 
 arteries that the sand out there was 
 soaked in blood that only a miraculous 
 chance had saved his life and was he 
 really going to live, Miss Waldo? 
 
 We rose to go. We left Miss Lang 
 thorne and her friend listening to the 
 354
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 first part of the narrative concerning 
 Mrs. Gonzaga s "case"; so we thought 
 that we should not be followed. 
 
 But presently Miss Langthorne came 
 hurrying up to us. 
 
 "Oh, don t go so fast," she ex 
 claimed; "I m dying to talk to you." 
 She took Amabel s arm. The two 
 went on and I followed with Miss Cum- 
 mings, who didn t attempt to make any 
 remark. So I heard every word of the 
 conversation in front of us. 
 
 "I ve been just dying to see you," 
 repeated Lily. 
 
 "Have you?" 
 
 "Yes; you know I ve something to 
 tell you. I know you ll be interested. 
 You ve always seemed so interested 
 in him, anyway." 
 
 Here an impressive pause. Amabel 
 turned and looked at her companion. 
 
 "Yes," resumed Miss Langthorne, 
 "but, of course, you couldn t help 
 being interested in him. I tell him" 
 with a laugh "that the only fault I 
 
 355
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 find with him is that the women all like 
 him. Do you think, Miss Waldo, that 
 you could be happy with a man that 
 all the women were fond of?" 
 
 "It would depend," said Amabel, 
 "on whether he was fond of all the 
 women." 
 
 Miss Lily laughed and her trophies 
 clashed. 
 
 "Oh, how bright you are! I don t 
 wonder the men keep away from you; 
 you re too bright." 
 
 There was no reply to this. 
 
 "I m sure I don t know what popper 
 11 say. I ve been telling Sue that I 
 haven t an idea what popper 11 say. 
 I m going to write to him as soon as I 
 get my courage screwed up. 
 
 Miss Langthorne s face was turned 
 so that I saw its profile a fair face 
 with charming lines. 
 
 "Perhaps you ought to have written 
 to him before, suggested Amabel. 
 
 "Do you think so? Oh, do you really 
 think so? But then if I had, I could 
 356
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 only have said that I was flirting with 
 Tom. It wouldn t have been worth 
 while to write just that, now, would it, 
 Miss Waldo?" 
 
 "No, I don t think it would." 
 
 "That s just what Sue said; she said 
 it would be silly to write to popper that 
 I was flirting with Tom. But now, 
 well, now I suppose I must write. 
 Did you ever see such a forward thing 
 as that waiter girl at our table?" 
 
 This question was snapped out with 
 great suddenness. 
 
 "Delcina?" 
 
 "Yes; ridiculous name !" 
 
 "I don t think she is forward at all; 
 I think she is lovely." Amabel 
 replied with some heat. Miss Lang- 
 thorne burst out laughing. Then she 
 said they were going out rowing, and 
 she had only time to get on her yacht 
 ing suit, and she hastened away. 
 
 When the two had gone round the 
 hill and out of sight, Amabel turned to 
 me and said: 
 
 357
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "Well?" and I answered, "Well?" 
 
 "She is going to be his conscience," 
 said Amabel, "and I m out of a posi 
 tion; for he ll scarcely need two con 
 sciences." 
 
 "You mean three; you forget me," 
 I responded. 
 
 "And he s going to pass his life with 
 that creature!" 
 
 "Yes; ain t it funny?" 
 
 We both tried to laugh, and gave up 
 the attempt. 
 
 "It isn t that I m in love with him 
 myself," said Amabel. 
 
 "Nor that I am," said I. 
 
 "But I hate to see his future ruined." 
 
 "So do I." 
 
 "I suppose Albert has been right." 
 
 "Yes. It s dreadful to think he has 
 been right." 
 
 We went ploughing sorrowfully 
 through the sand. When we reached 
 the hotel we had our horses saddled and 
 we rode out to the dunes. On the 
 piazza, as we mounted were Miss Lang- 
 358
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 thorne in her sailor hat and Mr. Dunn 
 in his white duck. 
 
 They maintained supernaturally 
 solemn faces ; but did we hear a giggle 
 as we passed down the lane? 
 
 It was the next day that that letter 
 came from Amabel s father. This 
 letter commanded Albert to come 
 home the moment he was able to be 
 moved. The writer evidently had no 
 high idea of Cape Cod medical skill. 
 Mr. Waldo seemed impressed with tbe 
 idea that Albert would be lame if he 
 didn t go home as soon as possible. 
 
 Consternation reigned among us. 
 Albert declared that he wasn t going 
 to be lame; he even averred that his 
 leg would be stronger than it had been 
 before it was cut. In fact, the cut 
 would eventually be of benefit. He 
 announced his intention of writing his 
 father to that effect, but when the 6 
 o clock afternoon train came in Mr. 
 Waldo himself appeared. He explained 
 that he could not rest until he saw for 
 359
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 himself just what had happened to 
 his son. He went away the next 
 morning, but he reiterated his com 
 mands for Albert to return. He said 
 that if Amabel wished to stay any 
 longer in such a God-forsaken, fish- 
 smelling place, she was welcome to do 
 so; but he was going to have Albert 
 come home, so that the next time he 
 stuck that dirk into himself he, his 
 father, might be near. 
 
 Albert groaned and scolded as he lay 
 in his bunk. 
 
 "The governor must have been 
 having a touch of liver, said the boy. 
 "He s always a regular tiger when he 
 has a liver. Why, we d only just got 
 to going down here! We haven t 
 been to Highland Light yet ! We were 
 saving that up, you know. 
 
 It transpired that Mr. Waldo did not 
 change his mind. 
 
 During the days that followed, 
 Amabel and I rode a good deal, and we 
 did not see much of Mr. Riddle; indeed, 
 360
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 we kept away from the hotel, save at 
 meal times and when we were asleep. 
 
 Mr. Riddle informed us that he was 
 learning a new Part, and he was off on 
 the dunes much of the time. When he 
 was with us, however, he was precisely 
 the same as to tender impressiveness. 
 Amabel asserted that lie could not give 
 Miss Langthorne any more expressive 
 glances. 
 
 Thus it happened that my friend and 
 I went by ourselves along the neck of 
 land to Highland Light. We rode over 
 unmolested ; there were not many peo 
 ple to be interested in us ; or perhaps 
 the fame of Amabel s reformation had 
 spread abroad and dissipated itself. 
 Probably the inhabitants had said to 
 each other, "It is that woman re 
 former," and ceased to be startled. 
 
 We went back to the Gonzaga house 
 hold and told Albert of the glories of 
 the ocean that was still eating into the 
 land at Highland Light. We had 
 stood on the verge and looked shud- 
 361
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 deringly down at a sea swollen with the 
 full tide and with a blustering east 
 wind. The gray welter of waters 
 stretched sullenly away to Europe. 
 The wind blew angrily over us. One 
 sail in sight came slanting toward the 
 land. 
 
 So, after all, it was Albert s dirk that 
 cut short our stay in Provincetown. 
 Amabel and I felt that it would not be 
 the same thing to remain after an 
 accident had happened to one of our 
 party, and time proved that Mr. 
 Waldo was right in thinking that 
 Albert s leg would be weak for a great 
 while. 
 
 We went back prosaically by boat to 
 Boston. Our two horses were on 
 board ; we heard them whinnying and 
 pawing. We liked to imagine that 
 they were grieving that they were 
 leaving the Cape. 
 
 Mr. Riddle went down to the wharf 
 with us. He found us seats in a pleas 
 ant spot. It was almost time for the 
 362
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 boat to start. He leaned over us. An 
 access of color came to his face. 
 
 "I ve been wishing to ask for your 
 congratulations," he said. 
 
 "Oh, yes," responded Amabel. And 
 then she stopped. Congratulations 
 choked her. 
 
 " I m the happiest man in the world, 
 said Mr. Riddle ; and he really looked 
 his words. 
 
 "Oh, yes," said Amabel again. 
 
 "If I were only worthy of her! the 
 sweetest nature sincere truthful 
 charming!" 
 
 This was dreadful. Amabel was 
 speechless. I spoke up bravely. 
 
 "We hope you ll be happy," I said. 
 
 "Happy! I can t help being happy! 
 She was coming down with me to see 
 you off, but was detained. Oh, there 
 she is now!" 
 
 He caught off his hat, his face 
 radiant. 
 
 "All ashore! All ashore!" cried a 
 rough voice. 
 
 363
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 Two men laid hold of the gangway 
 plank. 
 
 Mr. Riddle started. 
 
 "Why, it s Delcina!" we cried. 
 
 "Of course. Who else?" 
 
 Mr. Riddle had just time to dash 
 across to the wharf. 
 
 Delcina smiled and waved her hand 
 kerchief. Mr. Riddle was standing by 
 her. The boat had left the wharf. 
 
 "It s Delcina!" I cried again. 
 
 "Of course," said Albert, who was 
 sitting near us, with his crutches beside 
 him. "Didn t you know that?" 
 
 "No; nor you either." 
 
 "I did; weeks ago. I ain t such a 
 blind bat as some folks. 
 
 "But Lily Langthorne called him 
 Tom, and she the same as told us that 
 she was going to marry him. 
 
 "Did she? She was getting a rise 
 out of you. Besides, that .little toad 
 Dunn s name is Tom." 
 
 "Is she engaged to Dunn?" 
 
 "Sure s a gun which is poetry." 
 364
 
 SAND N BUSHES 
 
 "You needn t tell us you ve observed 
 all this, Albert Waldo, said his sister. 
 
 "No, I ain t, so to speak, observed 
 it all. But you started on the wrong 
 tack. And Riddle has told me Some 
 things. Can t he fool you women, 
 though?" 
 
 Albert laughed with much gusto. 
 "You thought Delcina cared for Dunn. 
 
 We were all watching Mr. Riddle 
 and Delcina as they stood on the 
 receding wharf. 
 
 "Well," said Amabel at last, "I 
 would much prefer that Delcina should 
 be Mr. Riddle s conscience and his 
 wife than that girl. I m very fond 
 of him. But I could be sorry, even for 
 Lilian Langthorne, when I think of 
 Mr. Dunn." 
 
 "Oh, you needn t be," returned 
 Albert. "Tom Dunn has a lot of 
 money he ll get her more gimcracks 
 to wear at her belt." 
 
 THE END
 
 PRINTED BY R. R. DONNELLEY 
 AND SONS COMPANY AT THE 
 LAKESIDE PRESS, CHICAGO, ILL.
 
 \
 
 GIONAL LIBRARY FAC in,