LEFT ALONE
After George went away, it seemed very quiet on the towpath. It grew
warmer and warmer, and the cherries got ripe and were picked, and I
climbed trees and played more, and had fewer lessons, because it was so
hot, and the little Turner girls came down to play with me sometimes,
because school was out. I went up and played with them sometimes, but
not often unless the launch came down, because it was a long way to walk
in the hot sun.
Mr. Taylor and me used to sit on his back porch, where it was cool, and
tell one another stories.
He told me some fine ones about the war, and when he was a boy. More
things seemed to happen to boys then than they do now, and I told him
so, and he laughed and said that was only because he was seventy-three
and remembered about them. He said that when I was seventy-three, "some
little feller'll think the same thing when you tell him about the fust
airship and things like that."
I laughed at me ever being seventy-three, but I suppose I will some day.
The only fun we had before the letter came was early that very
morning, when Aunty May was sitting reading some clippings her editor
had sent her, with her back to the little cupboard I told about, that
was made out of an old window.
I came down the stairs from my room and stood looking at her, wishing
she'd look up so I could interrupt. But she didn't and I stood there
just as quiet for a minute, and wondering why I suddenly thought about
the pictures in my book on India. Then I heard a little rustle, and I
knew. Just above Aunty May's head, uncoiling itself from round a pile of
plates in the corner, was a big black and yellow snake.
I called out, "Hey, Aunty May! Quick! There's a snake behind you!" And
she looked up and said, "Billy, I'm not in the mood for playing."
[Illustration: Auntie May got a hatchet and made a chop at the snake]
I said, "Oh, Aunty, I'm not fooling. Quick, or it will land on your
head"; and she turned round and looked right at the snake and it looked
at her, and Aunty May gave a scream, and jumped away, and the snake
dropped down on the floor and commenced to wiggle behind the couch.
Then I tell you there was some fun. Aunty Edith came down just as Aunty
May got a hatchet and made a chop at the snake, but she never touched
it, and Aunty Edith wouldn't let me go behind the couch after him.
Mr. Taylor, who was coming along the towpath from the village (he
brought us the mail every morning), came down and asked, "What's up,
young feller? I heerd the wimminfolk screeching. What ye been up to?"
I told him I hadn't done anything. It was a snake. Then Mr. Taylor and
me pulled out the couch, but he wasn't there. We poked sticks behind the
pantry, but couldn't find him.
There was a big hole in the cement there, and Mr. Taylor said, "Sho, the
poor snake was more frightened than ye was, Miss May, and it's likely
he's down the river-bank by now." Then Aunty May and me told him how big
it was and what color, and he said, "I knew a couple of wimmin kept a
milk snake in their dairy for a pet. Maybe this feller wants pettin'."
Aunty May said he'd never get it from her, and she took a piece of tin
and a hammer and tacks and went to close up the hole, but Mr. Taylor
said, "Wait a minute, Miss May"; and he whispered to her, "Stand by a
minute. There's a letter here from the War Department to Miss Edith, and
I'm doubting it's being the best of news."
Well, poor Aunty May turned so white and sat down so quickly with her
face in her hands, that Aunty Edith, who came in the room just then from
putting the axe away in the shed, said, "Why, May, did the snake
frighten you as much as that?" Aunty May didn't answer. She just
clutched Mr. Taylor and said, "Where is it?" Then Mr. Taylor looked at
her and at Aunt Edith, and said "Sho" once or twice, and then he pulled
out of his pocket a long envelope, and put it in Aunty Edith's hands.
She sat down very quick, and tried to open it, but her hands shook so
that she couldn't. Aunty May took it from her and tore it open, and they
both leaned over and read it. Then Aunty Edith cried so for a while she
couldn't tell us anything, but at last Aunty May took my hand and we
went out on the porch, and she told us that Uncle Burt had got hurt in a
little fight--not a real battle, a "skirmish" with some natives, and he
was to be sent home on sick-leave.
Then she and Mr. Taylor talked about what the letter said, and he shook
his head, and told her it looked like a bad job to him. Aunty May told
me to go over and sit with Mr. Taylor while she talked with Aunty Edith.
Mr. Taylor and me sat there, not very happy, because I was thinking of
Uncle Burt, and somehow I couldn't make him sick or hurt, he was so big
and so very strong.
I said that to Mr. Taylor, and he said, "Them there guns don't care how
big and strong a man is, they picks 'em down. They're cruel things,
boy, firearms is. Don't you ever go a-monkeying with them, mind that." I
said I wouldn't.
We sat there so quiet that we could hear the Aunties talking, and Aunty
Edith crying every now and then, in the house. Aunty May wasn't crying,
but she seemed quite angry about something. I could hear her say, "You
shall take it, Edith, and you shall do as I say, or I'll throw it into
the canal." Then again, "What is the money to me if--" And then Aunty
May began to cry and Aunty Edith began to be soothing to her, and the
more she soothed the harder Aunty May cried, till I heard Aunty Edith
say, "All right, May, dear. I promise I'll do it, if you'll only
stop crying."
Aunty May stopped right away, and presently she came out, and her eyes
were red, but her mouth was smiling, like it always does when she gets
what she wants.
She came and sat down by Mr. Taylor and me, while Aunty Edith went up to
write out telegrams and letters, and told me that Aunty Edith was going
out to bring Uncle Burt home, and that she was going with her as far as
San Francisco; that while they were gone I was to stay at the Turners',
for she thought they would look after me for her, and would I be a good
boy until she came back?
I promised I would, but, oh, I felt awful, and I begged her to take me
with her, but she said she couldn't because Aunty Edith was so tired and
sorry, and she would have to look after her all the time, and I must
stay at home and be good and wait. She would come back for me, in a
little while, and we'd wait together for Uncle Burt.
So as long as Mr. Taylor sat there looking at me with his winky blue
eyes, I didn't dare howl or anything, but my! I did feel like it. So I
just said, "Yes, 'm, Aunty May, I'll be good." She kissed me right before
him. It was a little mean of her, but he looked the other way and said,
"Shoo, Teddy."
Then Aunty May said, "There isn't a minute to be lost, Billy, so come in
and pack your box, while I go across to the farmhouse and call the
Turners up on the 'phone."
I went into the house, where Aunty Edith was very quiet and packing very
hard; and I packed the big suitcase with some of my things, for Aunty
Edith said I could always get in the house and get the rest of them
any time.
Presently Aunty May came back and said, "It's all right. They are
dears. They are coming down for Billy, right away, and they'll take you
and me to the train. Do you think you can do it, Edith? We've just an
hour." Aunty Edith said, "Of course I can."
And then you never saw such a packing time. It made me so dizzy watching
those two Aunties fly around, that presently I went outside, and sat
with Mr. Taylor, who was on the front step, "Waiting orders," he said;
and didn't we just get them, though!
When Aunty Edith called, "Billy, the tags, please," didn't I just run!
and when Aunty May said, "Mr. Taylor, will you please help me with this
window?" he jumped around as though he was seventeen instead of
seventy-three.
By and by the launch came down, but a little late, so it was decided
that I was to wait with Mr. Taylor until they took the Aunties to the
train; and they'd get me on the way back.
[Illustration: I believed they had really gone away, and left me all
alone]
After a few minutes the trunks were in the launch, the house was locked
and Mr. Taylor had the key. The Aunties kissed me good-bye, and Aunty
Edith promised to tell Uncle Burt I was a good boy, and Aunty May said
she'd come back for me as soon as she could--and they shook hands with
Mr. Taylor and he said, "Sho, I gotter feed them Teddy-cats," and went
down the steps. Then they got into the launch and went off, and I waved
at them as long as I could see them; and then I sat down by the canal
bank and felt as if I couldn't bear it, for it wasn't till then I
believed they had really gone away and left me all alone.
[Illustration]