THE GRAND-GIRLS
The click of Jane's hammer began to be heard in November, and hardly a
day passed without some music from this "Forge in the Forest." Sir Tom
made a permanent station of the workshop, where he spent hours in a
comfortable chair, drawing nourishment from the head of his cane and
pleasure from watching the girl at the anvil. I suspect that he planted
himself in the corner of the forge to safeguard Jane; for he had an
abiding fear that she would take fire, and he wished to be near at hand
to put her out. He procured a small Babcock extinguisher and a
half-dozen hand-grenades, and with these instruments he constituted
himself a very efficient volunteer fire department. He made her promise,
also, that she would have definite hours for heavy work, that he might
be on watch; and so fond was she of his company, or rather of his
presence, for he talked but little, that she kept close to the schedule.
Laura had a favorite corner in the forge, where she often turned a hem
or a couplet. She was equally dexterous at either; and Sir Tom watched
her, too, with an admiring eye. I once heard him say:--
"Milady Laura, it is the regret of me life that I came into the world a
generation too soon."
Laura sometimes went away--she called it "going home," but we scoffed
the term--and the doldrums blew until she returned. Sir Tom dined with
us nearly every evening through the fall and early winter; and when he,
and Kate and Tom and the grand-girls, and the Kyrles, and Laura were at
Four Oaks, there was little to be desired. The grand-girls were nearly
five and seven now, and they were a great help to the Headman. My
terrier was no closer to my heels from morning to night than were these
youngsters. They took to country life like the young animals they were,
and made friends with all, from Thompson down. They must needs watch the
sheep as they walked their endless way on the treadmill night and
morning; they thrust their hands into hundreds of nests and placed the
spoils in Sam's big baskets; they watched the calves at their patent
feeders, which deceived the calves, but not the girls; they climbed into
the grain bins and tobogganed on the corn; they haunted the cow-barn at
milking time and wondered much; but the chiefest of their delights was
the beautiful white pig which Anderson gave them. A little movable pen
was provided for this favorite, and the youngsters fed it several times
a day with warm milk from a nursing-bottle, like any other motherless
child. The pig loved its foster-mothers, and squealed for them most of
the time when it was not eating or sleeping; fortunately, a pig can do
much of both. It grew playful and intelligent, and took on strange
little human ways which made one wonder if Darwin were right in his
conclusion that we are all ascended from the ape. I have seen features
and traits of character so distinctly piggish as to rouse my suspicions
that the genealogical line is not free from a cross of _sus scrofa_. The
pig grew in stature and in wisdom, but not in grace, from day to day,
until it threatened to dominate the place. However, it was lost during
the absence of its friends,--to be replaced by a younger one at the next
visit.
"Do _your_ pigs get lost when you are away?" asked No. 1.
"Not often, dear."
"It's only pet pigs that runds away," said No. 2, "and I don't care, for
it rooted me."
The pet pig is still a favorite with the grand-girls, but it always runs
away in the fall.
Kate loved to come to Four Oaks, and she spent so much time there that
she often said:--
"We have no right to that $1200; we spend four times as much time here
as you all do in town."
"That's all right daughter, but I wish you would spend twice as much
time here as you do, and I also wish that the $1200 were twice as much
as it is."
Time was running so smoothly with us that we "knocked on wood" each
morning for fear our luck would break.
The cottage which had once served as a temporary granary, and which had
been moved to the building line two years before, was now turned into an
overflow house against the time when Jack should come home for the
winter vacation. Polly had decided to have "just as many as we can hold,
and some more," and as the heaviest duties fell upon her, the rest of us
could hardly find fault. The partitions were torn out of the cottage,
and it was opened up into one room, except for the kitchen, which was
turned into a bath-room. Six single iron beds were put up, and the place
was made comfortable by an old-fashioned, air-tight, sheet-iron stove
with a great hole in the top through which big chunks and knots of wood
were fed. This stove would keep fire all night, and, while not up to
latter-day demands, it was quite satisfactory to the warm-blooded boys
who used it. The expense of overhauling the cottage was $214. Tom, Kate,
and the grand-girls were to be with us, of course, and so were the
Kyrles, Sir Tom, Jessie Gordon, Florence, Madeline, and Alice Chase.
Jack was to bring Jarvis and two other men besides Frank and Phil of
last year's party.
The six boys were bestowed in the cottage, where they made merry
without seriously interrupting sleep in the main house. The others found
comfortable quarters under our roof, except Sir Tom, who would go home
some time in the night, to return before lunch the next day.
With such a houseful of people, the cook was worked to the bone; but she
gloried in it, and cackled harder than ever. I believe she gave warning
twice during those ten days; but Polly has a way with her which Mary
cannot resist. I do not think we could have driven that cook out of the
house with a club when there was such an opportunity for her to
distinguish herself. Her warnings were simply matters of habit.
The holidays were filled with such things as a congenial country
house-party can furnish--the wholesomest, jolliest things in the world;
and the end, when it came, was regretted by all. I grew to feel a little
bit jealous of Jarvis's attentions to Jane, for they looked serious, and
she was not made unhappy by them. Jarvis was all that was honest and
manly, but I could not think of giving up Jane, even to the best of
fellows. I wanted her for my old age. I suspect that a loving father can
dig deeper into the mud of selfishness than any other man, and yet feel
all the time that he is doing God service. It is in accord with nature
that a daughter should take the bit in her teeth and bolt away from this
restraining selfishness, but the man who is left by the roadside cannot
always see it in that light.