The Vendor of Everything
When Lou awakened the next morning at dawn it was her turn to find
herself deserted, but the fact failed to arouse any misgivings in her
mind. She had found in her brief experience with menfolks that they were
mostly queer, one way or another, but this one was dependable, and she
felt no doubt that he would turn up when he got ready.
Unwrapping her bundle, she took the apron, soap, and broken comb, and
wandered down the bank of the stream until in the seclusion beneath the
bridge she came upon a pool formed by outjutting rocks, where she
performed her limited toilet. Then, scrubbing the greasy apron
vigorously, she hung it on a bramble bush behind the mill to dry, and
scuttling across the road, made for the woods back of the house where
she had committed her nocturnal depredation.
An hour later when Jim came slowly up the hill road from the direction
of Hudsondale, he saw a tiny smudge of smoke rising from a rock well
hidden in the rank undergrowth at the edge of the stream, and
approaching it found Lou industriously brushing her coat with a broom
which she had improvised of small twigs tied together. Beside her,
carefully cradled in her sunbonnet, were half a dozen new-laid eggs.
"Good morning." He greeted her with a little bow, and sank down on the
rock. "Were you frightened to find yourself left all alone?"
"Oh, no. I knew you would come back," she replied serenely. Then, as she
noted his glance fall upon the eggs she added in swift self-defense:
"You needn't think I stole those; I found them back in the woods a
piece. O-oh!"
He had carried a large paper package under his arm, and now as he
unwrapped it her wonderment changed to swift rapture. It contained an
overall apron of bright pink check, a cheap straw hat, and a remnant of
green ribbon.
"I ain't had a pink dress since I was ten!" Her dark eyes were
perilously glistening. "I'd almost have died for one, but you had to
wear blue after that, 'count of doin' work 'round. Oh, an' that hat! I
kin put that ribbon on it as easy as----"
She halted suddenly and lowered her eyelashes, adding:
"But you hadn't any call to buy them for me; I can't pay you back right
now."
Jim's reply was irrelevant.
"Why, your eyes aren't black, after all! They're violet-blue, the
deepest blue I ever saw!" Then he caught himself up, reddening
furiously, and after a moment said in a casual tone: "That's all right
about the things, Lou; you can pay me when you get some work to do. Now,
go fix yourself up, and we'll have breakfast."
When she had disappeared into the mill he cursed himself for a fool. The
child had trusted him as a comrade; what would she think if he began
paying her compliments? What had come over him, anyway? He had seen
women with violet-blue eyes in more countries than one; beautiful women
with every enhancement which breeding and wealth could bestow. It must
have been sheer surprise in discovering any attribute of prettiness at
all about so uncompromisingly homely a girl as poor little Lou.
With this reassuring reflection he set about replenishing the fire, and
presently his companion reappeared. The large, flapping hat sat oddly
upon her small head with its tightly drawn-back hair, but the straight
lines of the all-enveloping pink gown brought out the slender curves of
her childish figure, and she didn't seem quite so gawky, after all, as
she moved toward him over the rocks.
"My, you look nice!" he said cheerfully. "I've brought some rolls
from----"
"We'll keep them for later," Lou interrupted him firmly. "There's still
the end of the bread left, and goodness knows where we'll eat again!"
They breakfasted gaily, drinking the remainder of the milk first and
then boiling the eggs in the pan, but Lou's remark about their next meal
had made Jim think seriously of the immediate future. He had assumed a
responsibility which he must fulfill, and his progress thus far under
the handicaps he had spoken of had been difficult enough alone.
The little pink apron-frock had cost half of his capital, the hat
twenty-five cents more, and the ribbon a dime. Five cents in addition
for the rolls had left but thirty-five of the preciously hoarded
pennies, and he was ninety miles from home, with a host of petty, but
formidable, restrictions barring his way, and an adopted orphan on his
hands.
He had been forced to turn his head sharply away when he passed the
village tobacco store, for every nerve cried out for the solace of a
good pipe, but he felt more than repaid for the sacrifice by Lou's
honest rapture over the poor things he had been able to get for her.
Breakfast finished, and the remainder of the ham stowed away in the
milk-pan, they carefully skirted the house on the rise of the hill, and
coming out once more upon the road, they forged ahead. The strained
muscles of Jim's back and side were still sore, but they troubled him
less than the lack of a smoke, and for Lou it was as though a new world
had opened before her eyes.
The pleasant, wheat-growing valley had been left behind them, and the
road from being hilly grew steeper and more steep until it became a mere
rutted trail over the mountains. More or less dilapidated farm-houses,
each with its patch of cleared ground, appeared now and then, and before
the gate of one of these a huge, canvas-covered wagon stood, bearing the
ambitious legend:
TRAVELING DEPARTMENT STORE
BENJ. PERKINS
A genial-looking fat man in a linen duster and a wide-brimmed hat was
just clambering in over the wheel when he spied the two pedestrians
gazing at the turnout, and called good-naturedly:
"Want a lift? I'm goin' inter New Hartz."
"Thanks. That is just where we are going, too," Jim replied promptly.
"It's awfully good of you to take us along."
"Git right in; plenty of room with me on the front seat here," the
proprietor of the extraordinary department store responded heartily.
"Yer sister 'd be nigh tuckered out ef you tried ter walk her inter town
on a hot day like this."
Jim hoisted Lou in over the big wheel and as he climbed up beside her
the driver slapped the reins over the broad backs of the two horses, and
they were off.
"You are Mr. Perkins?" Jim asked, ignoring the assumption of Lou's
relationship to him.
"That's me!" The other glanced at the fresh bandage about the young
man's head which Lou had applied just before they started out, and
inquired: "You git hurt, some ways?"
Jim explained briefly, and changed the subject with a haste which would
have been significant to a less obtuse host.
"You seem to have a little of everything back here in the van, Mr.
Perkins."
"Reckon I hev," the other agreed complacently. "From a spool of thread
to a pitchfork, and from a baby rattle to wax funeral wreaths, there
ain't nothin' the folk hereabout hev use for that I don't carry. The big
ottermobile order trucks don't hurt my business none; I ben workin' up
my trade around here fer twenty year."
Mr. Perkins paused to draw a pipe and tobacco sack from his pocket, and
Jim's throat twitched. After filling the pipe the genial pedler offered
the sack. "Hev some?"
Jim hesitated, and his face reddened, but at last he shook his head
determinedly.
"Thanks; I--I don't smoke."
Lou, who had hunched about in her seat to stare at the assorted array of
articles in the body of the van, turned and looked curiously at him.
Surely that hard bulge in the coat upon which she had slept on the
previous night had been the bowl of a pipe! The eyes which Jim had
called "violet blue" narrowed for an instant in puzzled wonderment, then
blurred as with swift understanding she glanced down at the new pink
apron and stroked it softly. But Jim had gone on talking rather
nervously.
"You don't get much trade around here, do you? Not many houses in these
mountains."
"Oh, here and thar," Mr. Perkins replied easily. "Here and thar."
The conversation which ensued was all Greek to Lou, who took off her
hat, leaned her head against the side of the van, and went peacefully to
sleep.
She was awakened by a hand gently shaking her shoulder and found that
the van had been halted in the middle of a maple-lined street before a
big house which bore a sign labeled: "Congress Hotel." Busy little shops
shouldered it on either side, and a band-stand stood in the open square.
"Come down, Lou." Jim stood on the sidewalk reaching up for her hands.
"This is New Hartz."
Mr. Perkins was not in the van, but as Lou scrambled over the wheel he
appeared from the door of the hotel.
"Young man, I wish I was goin' further, but I ain't, and I want ter talk
a little business with you." He drew Jim aside. "You and your sister
wouldn't ha' ben walkin' it in from Hudsonvale if you could ha' paid ter
come any other way."
"No, Mr. Perkins." Jim backed away smilingly. "We couldn't think of--of
borrowing, but thanks for the ten-mile lift into New Hartz."
"Glad ter hev your company." Mr. Perkins suddenly dived around to the
back of the van and his voice came to them muffled from the depths of
its interior. "Wait jest a minute."
He emerged, red and perspiring, with a small package wrapped in a square
of something shimmering and white in his hands, which he offered to the
wondering Lou.
"It's jest a little present fer you, miss," he said.
Lou accepted it gravely.
"Thank you, sir," she said primly. "You ain't got any call to give me
this, not after bringin' us all the way from Hudsondale."
"I guess I can make a little present if I'm a mind ter, ter a pretty
little girl like you." Mr. Perkins turned to Jim. "Wish yer both luck on
your way."
They took leave of the kindly little fat man and moved off up the
village street and beyond the inevitable car tracks to the dwindling
country road once more. In the shade of a big tree at a crossroads, Lou
glanced up at her companion.
"Could we set down here for a spell?" she asked. "I ain't tired, Jim,
but I feel like I'd die if I can't open this!"
She gestured with Mr. Perkins's gift, and Jim dropped laughingly on the
grass.
"Of course. Let's see what's in it."
Gravely she seated herself beside him and unknotted the square of white.
It contained three little handkerchiefs with pink borders, a small
bottle of particularly strong scent, and a string of beads remotely
resembling coral. The square in which the articles had been wrapped
proved to be a large white silk handkerchief with an American flag
stamped in the corner.
"That must be for you, Jim," Lou said slowly. As in a trance she slipped
the string of beads over her head, opened the bottle, and poured a few
drops of its contents upon one of the little handkerchiefs, inhaling the
rank odor in ecstasy.
Jim watched her, amused but touched also. To that luxury-starved little
soul the coarse handkerchiefs and cheap perfume meant rapture, and he
resolved to see that the gray-haired lady in New York provided something
better for Lou than a servant's position. Education, perhaps----
"It must be past noon, for the shadows have started to go the other
way." Her voice broke in upon his meditations. "We'd better eat the
rolls an' ham now. How far is it to where we're goin'?"
"Eight miles; I'm afraid it is a long way for you----"
"Then the sooner we git started the better," the girl interrupted. "I'll
take the pan an' run back to that yellow house we just passed for some
water."
Without waiting for a reply she tilted the little scent bottle carefully
against the tree-trunk and departed, while Jim stretched himself out
luxuriously in the grateful shade. He was tired, and the still heat of
noon had a stupefying effect. Lou seemed long in returning, and his
thoughts grew nebulous until he finally drifted off into slumber.
When he awakened the shadows had lengthened to those of mid-afternoon,
and there was a delicious, unaccustomed aroma in the air. He gazed about
him in a bewildered fashion to find Lou sitting cross-legged in the
grass, and spread upon it on the apron between them were the rolls and
ham, and a huckleberry pie, still warm, and fairly exuding juice.
"Good Lord, where did you get it?" he demanded.
"Remember that yellow house where I went to git water?" Lou laughed, but
there was a new note of shyness in her voice. "When we passed it first I
saw that the currant bushes were just loaded down, an' a woman was out
pickin' them, though it's ironin' day. I figgered if I pick for her
she'd maybe pay me, an' she did. I--I guessed you was out of--this."
The freckles disappeared in a rosy blush as with a red-stained hand she
held out a bag of tobacco.
"Lou! Why, you--you precious kid!" Jim stammered. "You worked in all
this heat, while I lay here and slept."
"It wasn't far back to New Hartz, an' I'd seen where the cigar-store was
when we came by. The woman at the house, she give me the pie, an' I've
got ten cents left besides. I never had ten cents of my own before!"