WORKING FOR DINNER.
Further conversation justified the astonishment of Harvey Hamilton. The
countryman, who gave his name as Abisha Wharton, showed a knowledge of
aviation and heavier-than-air machines such as few amateurs possess. In
the midst of his bright remarks he abruptly checked himself.
“What time is it?”
Harvey glanced at the little watch on his wrist.
“Twenty minutes of six.”
“You two will take supper with me.”
Bohunkus Johnson, who had been silently listening while the three were
standing, heaved an enormous sigh.
“Dat’s what I’se been waitin’ to hear mentioned eber since we landed;
yas, we’ll take supper wid yo’; I neber was so hungry in my life.”
“I appreciate your kindness, which I accept on condition that we pay you
or your wife for it. We have started on an outing, and that is our
rule.”
“I didn’t have that in mind when I spoke, but if you insist on giving
the old lady a little tip, we sha’n’t quarrel; leastways I know _she_
won’t.”
“That is settled then. Now I should like to hire you to do me a favor. I
don’t suppose you keep gasoline in your home?”
“Never had a drop; we use only candles and such light as the fire on the
hearth gives.”
“How near is there a store where we can buy the stuff?”
“I suppose Peters has it, for he sells everything from a toothpick to a
folding bed. He keeps the main store at Darbytown, two miles away. I
drive there nearly every day.”
“Will you do so now, and buy me ten gallons of gasoline and two gallons
of cylinder oil?”
“I don’t see why I shouldn’t; certainly I’ll do it. Do you want it right
off?”
“Can you go to town and back before dark?”
“My horse isn’t noted for his swiftness,” replied Abisha with a grin,
“but I can come purty nigh making it, if I start now.”
“Dat’s a good idee; while yo’s gone, Harv and me can put ourselves
outside ob dat supper dat yo’ remarked about.”
Harvey’s first thought was to accompany his new friend to the village,
but when he saw the rickety animal and the dilapidated wagon to which he
was soon harnessed, he forebore out of consideration for the brute.
Besides, it looked as if he was likely to fail with the task.
Accordingly, our young friend handed a five-dollar bill to his host and
repeated his instructions. Then he and Bohunkus sauntered to the rude
porch, where Mrs. Wharton came forth at the call of her husband, and was
introduced to the visitors, whose names were given by Harvey. She
promised that the evening meal should suit them and passed inside to
look after its preparation.
The winding wagon road was well marked, and Abisha Wharton, seated in
the front of his rattling vehicle, struck his bony horse so smart a blow
that the animal broke into a loping trot, and speedily passed from sight
among the trees in the direction of Darbytown. Harvey and Bohunkus,
having nothing to hold their attention, strolled to the woodpile and sat
down on one of the small logs lying there, awaiting cutting into proper
length and size for the old-fashioned stove in the kitchen. A few
minutes later the wife came out and gathered all that was ready for use.
As she straightened up, she remarked with a sniff:
“That Abisha Wharton is too lazy ever to cut ’nough wood to last a day;
all he keers about is to smoke his pipe, or fish, or read his papers and
books.”
When she had gone in, Harvey said to his companion:
“We haven’t anything to do for an hour or so; let’s make ourselves
useful.”
“I’m agreeable,” replied Bohunkus, lifting one of the heavy pieces and
depositing it in the two X’s which formed the wood horse. The saw lay
near and was fairly sharp. The colored youth was powerful and had good
wind. He bent to work with a vigor that soon severed the piece in the
middle. He immediately picked up another to subject it to the same
process, while Harvey swung the rather dull axe and split the wood for
the stove. It was all clean white hickory, with so straight a grain that
a slight blow caused it to break apart. The work was light and Harvey
offered to relieve his companion at the saw.
“Don’t bodder me; dis am fun; besides,” added Bohunkus, “I cac’late to
make it up when I git at de supper table; I tell yo’, Harv, yo’ll hab to
gib dat lady a big tip.”
“I certainly shall if I wish to save her from losing on you.”
For nearly an hour the two wrought without stopping to rest. By that
time, most of the wood was cut and heaped into a sightly pile. The odor
of the hickory was fragrant, and it made a pretty sight, besides which
we all know that it has hardly a superior for fuel, unless it be
applewood.
By and by the woman of the house came to the door and looked at the two
boys. She was delighted, for she saw enough wood ready cut for the stove
to last her for a week at least. Bohunkus was bending over the saw horse
with one knee on the stick, while a tiny stream of grains shot out above
and below, keeping time with the motion of the implement, and Harvey
swung the axe aloft with an effect that kept the respective tasks equal.
Gazing at them for a moment, the housewife called:
“Supper’s waiting!”
“So am I!” replied Bohunkus, who, having a stick partly sawn in two
worked with such energy that the projecting end quickly fell to the
ground. Harvey would not allow him to leave until the pieces were split
and piled upon the others.
“Now let us each carry in an armful.”
They loaded themselves, and Harvey led the way into the house, where the
smiling woman directed them to the kitchen. There being no box they
dumped the wood upon the floor, then seated themselves at the table, and
she waited upon them.
Despite her untidy appearance, Mrs. Wharton gave them an abundant and
well-cooked meal, to which it need not be said both did justice. They
were blessed with good appetites, Bohunkus especially being noted at
home for his capacity in that line. They pleased the hostess by their
compliments, but more so by their enjoyment of the meal.
It was a mild, balmy night, and at the suggestion of the woman they
carried their stools outside and sat in front of the house and on the
edge of the clearing, to await the return of the master of the
household. Sooner than they expected, they heard the rattle of the
wheels and the sound of his voice, as he urged his tired animal onward.
It took but a few minutes for him to unfasten, water and lead him to the
stable. Then the man came forward and greeted his friends.
“How did you make out?” asked Harvey.
“I got what I went after, of course; the gasoline and oil are in the
wagon, and there’s about three dollars coming to you.”
“Which you will keep,” replied Harvey. “We have finished an excellent
meal and shall wait here for you if you don’t mind.”
“I’m agreeable to anything,” remarked the man, as he slouched inside,
where by the light of a candle he ate the evening meal with his wife.
Our friends could not help hearing what she said, for she had a sharp
voice and spoke in a high key. She berated him for his shiftlessness and
declared he ought to be ashamed to allow two strangers to saw and split
the wood which had too long awaited his attention. She made other
observations that it is not worth while to repeat, but evidently the man
was used to nagging, for it did not affect his appetite and he only
grunted now and then by way of reply or to signify that he heard.
When Abisha brought out his chair and lighted his corncob pipe, it was
fully dark. The night was without a moon, and the sky had so clouded
that only here and there a twinkling star showed.
“Do you ever fly at night?” asked their host.
“We have never done so,” replied Harvey, “because there is nothing to be
gained and it is dangerous.”
“Why dangerous?”
“We can’t carry enough gasoline to keep us in the air more than two
hours, and it is a risky thing to land in the darkness. If I hadn’t
caught sight of this open space, it would have gone hard with us even
when the sun was shining.”
“It’s a wonderful discovery,” repeated Wharton, as if speaking with
himself, “but a lot of improvements will have to be made. One of them is
to carry more gasoline or find some stuff that will serve better. How
long has anyone been able to sail with an aeroplane without landing?”
“I believe the record is something like five hours.”
“In two or three years or less time, they will keep aloft for a day or
more. They’ll have to do it in order to cross the Atlantic.”
“There is little prospect of ever doing that.”
“Wellman tried it in a balloon, but was not able to make more than a
start.”
“I agree with you that the day is not distant when the Atlantic will be
crossed as regularly by heavier-than-air machines as it is by the
_Mauretania_ and _Lusitania_, but in the meantime we have got to make
many improvements; that of carrying enough fuel being the most
important.”
At this point Bohunkus felt that an observation was due from him.
“Humph! it’s easy ’nough to fix dat.”
“How?”
“Hab reg’lar gasumline stations all de way ’cross de ocean, so dat
anyone can stop and load up when he wants to.”
“How would you keep the stations in place?” gravely inquired Wharton.
“Anchor ’em, ob course.”
“But the ocean is several miles in depth in many portions.”
“What ob dat? Can’t you make chains or ropes dat long? Seems to me some
folks is mighty dumb.”
“I’ve noticed that myself,” remarked the host without a smile. Failing
to catch the drift of his comment, Bohunkus held his peace for the next
few minutes, but in the middle of a remark by his companion, he suddenly
leaped to his feet with the gasping question:
“What’s dat?”