many people coveted the land. The odd part that concerned the gossips
was that Aunt Jimmy had three able-bodied nephews, of which Joshua Lane
was eldest, all farmers struggling along on poorish land, while she,
though seventy-five years old, insisted upon running her fruit farm
and house entirely alone, hiring Poles or Hungarians, who could speak
no English, to till and gather the crops, instead of going shares with
her own kin. In fact, until a few years back, no one, man, woman, or
child, except little Janey Lane, had ever got beyond the kitchen door.
Then when she died, Aunt Jimmy had opened her house and heart to Joshua
Lane's wife, and ever since, that dear, motherly soul had done all that
she could for the queer, lonely old woman, in spite of the fact that the
gossips said she did it from selfish motives.
Joshua Lane was very sensitive about this talk and would have held aloof
like his two brothers, who lived beyond the Centre, one of whom had a
sick wife and was too lazy to more than scratch half rations from his
land, while the other had once given the old lady some unwise advice
about pruning peach trees, and had been forbidden inside the gate under
pain of being cut off with a "china button," Aunt Jimmy's pet simile for
nothing.
Mrs. Joshua, however, was gossip proof, and, tossing her head, had
publicly declared, "I'm a-going to keep the old lady from freezin',
burnin', or starvin' herself to death jest so far 's I'm able, accordin'
to scripture and the feelings that's in me, and if that's 'undue
influence,' so be it! I shan't discuss the subject with anybody but the
Lord," and she never did.
Many a meal of hot cooked food she took to the old woman to replace the
crackers and cheese of her own providing. It was not that Aunt Jimmy
meant to be mean, but she had lived so long alone that she had gotten
out of the habits of human beings. She certainly looked like a lunatic
when she went about the place superintending her men, clad in a short
skirt, a straw sunbonnet, and rubber boots, merely adding in the winter
a man's army overcoat and cape that she had picked up cheap; but the
lawyer who had come down from Northboro a year before to make her will
said he had never met a clearer mind outside of the profession, for she
had Dr. Jedd testify that she was of sound mind, and a second physician
from Northboro swear that Dr. Jedd's wits were also in good order.
Shortly after this she had given it out quietly that, though Joshua Lane
was the only one of her kin that was worth a box of matches, yet they
would share and share alike, as she didn't believe in stirring up strife
among brothers by showing favour.
Then everybody expected Mrs. Lane would lessen her attentions, but as
often happens everybody was mistaken.
Of course the good woman could not help thinking once in a while what
a fine thing it would be if some day her elder boys could work the
fruit farm (Lammy she never thought of as working at anything) instead
of delving in a shop at Milltown, but she put the idea quickly from
her. However, it would keep coming back all that night after Terence
O'More's funeral when she watched with the old lady, while poor Bird
slept her grief-spent sleep before her journey.
If the fruit farm could ever be hers, she would adopt Bird without
hesitation, for the little lady-child had crept into the empty spot
that Janey had left in her big mother heart and filled it in a way that
greatly astonished her.
* * * * *
Lammy finally secured the medicine and jogged homeward, thinking, all
the time thinking about Bird. He knew that people said he was stupid,
and yet he also felt that he could learn as well as any one if they
would only let him pick his own way a little. His father wanted him to
be a carpenter, his mother thought that too rough, and that he was still
a baby and some day perhaps he might be a clerk.
But Lammy himself, as he looked into the future, saw only the whirling
wheels of the machinery at Milltown, or the wonders of the locomotive
works that he had once visited at Northboro. That was why he was always
day-dreaming and looking in the air. Of course it was very stupid and
dumb of him not to tell his parents, but Bird's was the only ear that
had ever heard his thoughts.
All that day he stayed about the place at home, keeping the fire in and
doing the chores, for his mother's time was divided between her aunt's
and straightening things at Bird's old home, and his father was up in
the back lots planting corn. Toward night, as he was sitting on the
steps having brought back Twinkle who had run to his old home in search
of his little mistress, Mrs. Lane bustled in, mystery and importance
written on her face. Spying Lammy, she beckoned him to follow her
into the kitchen, then, carefully closing the doors, putting Twinkle
in the closet and the cat out of the window, as if they could carry
tales, she unfastened her bonnet and collar and settled herself in the
rocking-chair.
"Samuel Lane," she began solemnly, shaking her forefinger and making the
boy quake at the unused title, while his eyes opened wide in wonder,
"No, 'tain't _that_; Aunt Jimmy's _much_ more comfortable, and I suspect
she's going to pick up again after scaring us well, or I wouldn't be
home, but she said private words to me this afternoon that if I do keep
quite to myself, I'll burst, I know, and maybe get a headache spell
that'll lay me by a day and upset everything. Now, Samuel, I've found as
far as givin' messages you're told to carry, you're as good as nobody,
so I reckon you'll be tight sealed on something that you're bid to keep
close and forget maybe for some years."
"Is it about Bird?" asked Lammy, suddenly jumping up and fixing his big,
gray eyes on his mother's face with a gaze that made her nervous, for
she well knew that there was something in this pet son of hers that was
a little beyond her comprehension.
"No, not about Bird,--that is, not straight, though another way it may
have a lot to do with her; it all depends. Listen, Samuel!
"This afternoon Aunt Jimmy waked up, and, seeing me sitting by the
window croshayin',--true I was making a bungle of the tidy, not feelin'
like workin' (but she hates, same 's I do, for watchers to set idle
looking ready to jump at a body like a cat does at a mouse hole),--she
says, says she, her voice comin' back steady, 'Set nearer, Lauretta Ann
Lane, I'm goin' to tell you somethin' no one else need ever know.'
"I drew up all of a flutter, of course. 'You're a good woman, Lauretta
Ann,' says she, 'and you've never poked and pried, or shown desires for
what's another's, an' you've worked hard to keep me livin', which I've
done to my satisfaction beyond my expectations.'
"I burst out cryin', I couldn't help it; for I never thought she set any
store by me, and I felt guilty about wishes I'd had last night and had
fed with thoughts inwardly.
"'Hush up, now, and don't spoil all by pretendin',' she ran on; 'I
know you'd like to have my farm, though not a day before I'm done with
it. _I'll_ credit you that. It's natural and proper and I'm glad to
have interest took in it, likewise I've said I'd share and share alike
between my nephews, which I intend; but listen, Lauretta Ann, for
there's ways of circumventin' that suits me, _I've left you the farm for
your own_; moreover, I've fixed it so there'll be no talk and no one'll
know it but you. You think I'm crazy, I guess, and that you couldn't get
the farm unbeknown, nohow. Just wait and see!'
"Then she asked me to draw her a cup of tea, and when I went to fetch
that battered old pewter tea-pot she's used I reckon these fifty years,
'twasn't in its place, but on her mantel-shelf, and when I reached up
to take it down she said, 'Leave that be and take the chiney one; its
work's over for me and we're both takin' a rest;' then she dozed off
after the very first sup."
"Mother," said Lammy, who was now leaning on her knees with his hands
behind her head and drawing it close, while his eyes glowed like coals,
"if--if you ever get the farm--will--you--"
"Bring Bird back?" she finished for him, hugging him close. "Yes, I
will, and you shall both go to school to Northboro, too; but mind you,
Samuel, no crowdin' Aunt Jimmy, and it may be years yet.
"Now bustle round and help me cook up something, for I must go back to
Aunt Jimmy's before seven, as Mis' Jedge o' Probate Ricker is the only
one I'll trust to spell me, for Dinah Lucky's mush in a bowl when the
village folks smooth her down with their palarver."
So Lammy flew about, sifting flour, skimming milk, or rattling cups
and saucers, and it was not quite dark, supper over, and every dish
washed, when he went back to the porch steps and whispered the precious
hope to Twinkle, who raised one ear and his lip together as much as if
he understood and cautioned silence. Then the boy began day-dreaming
anew, but this time his mind, instead of following flying wheels, was
busy weeding strawberry plants and carefully picking raspberries, so as
not to crush them, while Bird stood by and watched. "And," he startled
himself by saying aloud, "the first thing I'll do 'll be to divide off a
root of those red pineys and plant it up on the hill, so Bird 'll find
it next spring all in blow."
* * * * *
A few days later when Dr. Jedd and all the neighbours were convinced
that Aunt Jimmy would be out in the garden again by raspberry time,
with good chance of another ten years, and Mrs. Lane had made indoors
more comfortable than it had been for years by a thorough cleaning and
renovating, the strange old lady again upset all their calculations and
died. Then in due time the lawyer from Northboro sent letters to the
three nephews and their families, to Dr. Jedd, to the minister of the
First Congregational Church, and to the superintendent of the new School
of Industrial Art of Northboro, to meet on a certain Friday afternoon at
Aunt Jimmy's house to hear the will read.
Once more was the entire community involved in a guessing match. The
summoning of the kin was a matter of course, and usually took place
immediately, so that the lawyer was evidently carrying out special
directions in delaying the matter for more than a week, but as to what
the doctor, the minister, and the teacher from Northboro could possibly
have to do in the matter was a mystery that not even the fertile brain
of Mrs. Slocum could settle, either for good nor evil.
It couldn't be that Aunt Jimmy had left these three outside men
anything, for it was known that she only employed Dr. Jedd because she
couldn't help it, that she hadn't been to church for five years because
the minister had preached a sermon against avarice and the vanity of
hoarding money, and as to the Northboro teacher it was positively
certain that she had never even seen him, for he was a stranger in these
parts, having recently been sent from New York, to take charge of the
school, by a wealthy man who had been influential in founding it and
whose country place was on the farther edge of the town.
Mrs. Lane was as much in the dark as any one and did not hesitate
to say so, while excitement ran so high that on this particular
Friday afternoon the women sat in their fore-room windows overlooking
the village street with the expectant air of waiting for a passing
procession.
Mrs. Dr. Jedd, Mrs. Judge of Probate Ricker, and the minister's wife
were privileged to attend the reading by courtesy for reason of being
their husband's wives, and cakes had been baked and several plans
made to waylay them separately on their divers routes home to drink a
cup of tea, that every detail might be gleaned for comparing of notes
afterward.
"We shall soon see whether Lauretta Ann Lane's cake is dough or fruit
loaf," sniffed Mrs. Slocum, angrily, drawing in her head suddenly from
the third fruitless inspection of the road that she had made in fifteen
minutes and giving it a smart bump against the sash as she did so.
"Either the folks is late, or they're gone around the back road, and if
so, why? I'd just like you to tell me," she snapped at Hope Snippin, the
meek little village dressmaker who, drawn over as if she had a perpetual
stitch in her side, was remaking a skirt for the lady of the house and
felt very much discouraged, as it had been turned once before, at the
possibility of making it look startlingly new.
"Maybe they've stopped down to the Lane's and have walked around the
meadow path," ventured Hope Snippin. "The other day when I was fixin'
up Mis' Lane's black gown, changing the buttons and such like to turn
it from just Sunday best to mourning, I heard her tell Mis' Jedd that,
as there was no convenience for gettin' up a proper meal down to Aunt
Jimmy's, seein' as nothing must be touched until the will was read,
she'd asked all the folks concerned to dinner--a roast-beef dinner
with custards--at her house so's they could be comfortable and stable
their teams, and then walk right around short cut to the other house
after. You see the two farms meets the road separate, like the two
heels of a horseshoe, and then join by going back of the doctor's hill
woods. My father was sayin' last night if those two farms _and_ the
wood lot went together, they'd be something worth while," and Miss
Snippin smiled pleasantly as if she thought she had propitiated Mrs.
Slocum by her news.
"Then you knew all the while they wouldn't come by here and never told
me, though seein' me slavin' over that cake," snapped Mrs. Slocum. "I
wish you'd mind your work closer; you're makin' that front breadth up
stain out."
"But it runs clean through," pleaded the dressmaker, miserably.
"Depend upon it," Mrs. Slocum muttered to herself, not heeding the
protest, "she's made sure of that farm, or she wouldn't risk the cost of
a roast dinner for a dozen folks if she wasn't."
* * * * *
Meanwhile this dinner had been eaten and the party, headed by the lawyer
and the teacher, had gone through the sweet June fields to Aunt Jimmy's
house and seated themselves upon the stiff-backed, fore-room chairs that
were ranged in a long row, as if the company expected to play "Go to
Jerusalem."
Outside, the bees were humming in the syringa bushes while the cat-birds
and robins, unmolested, were holding a festival in the great strawberry
bed, for to-day there was no one to see that the birds "kept moving"
after the usual custom, as the hired man on returning from taking eggs
to market had gone to sleep in the hay barn, knowing that the stern
voice of the old lady in rubber boots and sunbonnet would not disturb
his dreams.
* * * * *
"Hem," the lawyer cleared his throat and read the usual preliminaries
about "last will and testament, sound mind," etc., "paying of just
debts," etc., in a clear but rapid voice that grew gradually solemn
and important, until, as the pith of the matter was reached, every
word was separated from its neighbour, and the buzzing of a fly on the
window-pane seemed an unbearable noise.
"I give and bequeath to Amelia, the wife of William Jedd, doctor of
medicine in this town, the sum of two thousand dollars, because I think
she may need it owing to her husband's slack way of collecting bills."
Mrs. Jedd, who had for a moment looked radiant, quickly cast down her
eyes after a frightened glance at her husband who was, with apparent
difficulty, refraining from laughter as he looked crosswise at the
minister.
"I give and bequeath to Sarah Ann, wife of Joel Stevens, minister of the
First Congregational Church, a like sum of two thousand dollars because
she is sure to need it, this being twice the amount that he once desired
me to give to foreign missions. If he still holds to his views of
avarice and hoarding, he will doubtless be able to persuade her to share
his ideas as to its use."
It was the minister's turn now to look red and confused, while his
wife's face expressed her views on the subject beyond a doubt.
"I give and bequeath to the Trust Fund of the School of Industrial Art
in Northboro the sum of $10,000, the income therefrom to be applied to
the board and teaching of two girls each year who cannot afford to pay,
for the reason that I think a girl is usually worth two boys if she has
a chance, and I don't like to see our best girls running to the big
cities for schooling.
"I direct that my fruit farm of ten acres, more or less, with the
adjoining one hundred acres of meadow and woodlands, and all buildings
and fixtures, other than household furniture, appertaining thereto,
shall be sold at public auction within six months of my death, and that
the cash proceeds be divided between my three nephews, share and share
alike, I holding the hope that one of them will be the purchaser. I also
direct that the pieces of household furniture mentioned in the enclosed
memorandum shall be divided between the wives of my three nephews by the
drawing of lots, and I charge that all other furnishings not mentioned
in this paper, being of no value except to myself, shall be destroyed
either by burning or burying in the swamp bog-hole according to their
character, as I don't wish them scattered about for the curiosity of the
idle, of which this town has its full share.
"Making one exception to the above, I give to my dear niece by marriage,
Lauretta Ann, wife of Joshua Lane, in token of my respect for her, my
old pewter tea-pot that, as she knows, I have treasured as having laid
buried in the garden through the War of Independence and had in daily
use for years, hoping she will cherish it and by like daily use hold me
in constant remembrance by the sight of it."
At this juncture no one dared look up, for all felt the cruelty of the
gift after Mrs. Lane's years of service, and the poor woman herself
merely tightened her grasp upon the chair arms, but she could not
prevent the sickening sense of disappointment that crept over her.
"I hereby appoint my nephew, Joshua Lane, as my sole executor, directing
that he be paid the sum of $1000 from my estate for his services,
desiring him to carry on the fruit business for the current year, the
profits to be added to my estate. (Here followed special instructions.)
If there be any residue after paying to the before-named legacies, I
direct that he divide it equally between himself and his two brothers,
and I hope that all concerned may feel the same pleasure in hearing this
testament that I have had in making it."
As the lawyer stopped reading there was a pause, and then a rush of
voices, congratulations and condolences mingled. That he had made an
error in summoning Dr. Jedd and the minister instead of their wives was
plain.
The two brothers, who cared nothing for the fruit farm except its cash
price and had been too indolent to bother about the matter or go to see
their aunt except in fruit time, assumed importance and talked about
wounded pride and the injustice of having but one executor. The school
superintendent, an Englishman of fifty or so who had received his art
training at South Kensington and brought it to market in America,
confused by his surroundings, but of course pleased at the gift by
which his school benefited, made haste to leave, feeling that he was
intruding in a gathering where a family storm was brewing.
"Mebbe there's something _in_ the tea-pot," suggested the minister's
wife, hopefully, "else I can't think she knew her own mind."
"There's surely something in it," echoed Mrs. Dr. Jedd.
The lawyer, who himself had thought this possible, went upstairs, and
took down the battered bit of pewter from the best bedroom shelf, where
it had remained since the day Mrs. Lane had placed it there at Aunt
Jimmy's request, opened it, shook it, and held it toward the eager
group,--it was absolutely empty!
Mrs. Lane stretched out her hand for the legacy, but her husband grasped
her arm and asserting himself for the first time in his married life,
said: "Lauretta Ann, don't you tech it; it'll go down in the swamp hole
with the other trash for all of you. I'll not have you a-harbourin' a
viper. I'll do my lawful duty, but, by crickey, I'll not have you put
upon no more."
This very ambiguous speech so impressed the hearers that it was reported
that "Joshua Lane wasn't tied to Lauretta's apron-strings and could
hold his own equal to anybody," which had been seriously doubted, while
the news was a surprise and disappointment to every one but Mrs. Slocum,
who said, "Dough! I told you so,"--and actually cut a big slice of cake
for Hope Snippin to take home for tea.
As for Lammy he seemed dazed for a while, and then set to work daily
with his father on the fruit farm, so that he might earn the tickets
to send to Bird when hot weather and the time for her visit came. His
mother noticed that he did not gaze about as much as usual, and, while
he was picking berries for market, he said to himself, "I'll snake a
root of those red pineys for Bird anyhow before the auction, 'long in
November, and maybe before then something 'll turn up."
IV
A CAGED BIRD
When the high banks of the cut shut off Lammy from Bird's sight, she
followed her uncle into the car, vainly trying to blink back her tears.
He, however, did not notice them; but, putting her valise on a seat,
told her she had better sit next to the window so that she could amuse
herself by looking out, as it would be two hours before they changed
cars at New Haven, and then, taking another seat for himself, pulled his
hat over his eyes and promptly fell asleep.
At first the poor child was content to sit quite still and rest, trying
to realize who and where she was. The changes of the past two weeks had
been so sudden that she did not yet fully realize them. Beginning with
the day when her father, all full of hope, had been soaked by the rain
in walking back from Northboro, where he had gone to buy materials for
beginning his work for the wall-paper man, and caught the deadly cold,
until now when she was leaving the only friends she had ever known,
seemed either a whole lifetime or a dream from which she must awake.
But as the train flew on and the familiar places one by one were lost in
the distance, little by little the bare cold truth came to her. Not only
was she going to a strange place to live among strangers, but the hope
that had comforted her the previous night had been swept away when her
uncle had refused to let her bring her paint-box, and she knew by the
contemptuous way he spoke that he was even more set against her father's
work than their farming neighbours had been.
"Never mind," thought the brave, lonely little heart, "I simply _must_
learn somehow, and perhaps my aunt and cousins may be different and
help me to persuade Uncle John to let me go on with drawing at the
school he sends me to, for I heard him tell Mrs. Lane that I should go
to school." Then Bird began to imagine what the aunt and cousins would
be like, and what sort of a house they would live in. She thought the
house would be brick or stone like some in Northboro, and she did not
expect that there would be a very big garden, perhaps only at the back
with a little strip at the sides and in front, but then that would hold
enough flowers for her to draw so that she need not forget the way in
which Terry had taught her to do it from life, and even if she had no
paints and only bits of paper and a pencil, she could work a little out
of the way up in her room so as not to annoy her uncle and yet not quite
give up. That she was determined she would never do, for Bird had, in
addition to a talent that was in every way greater than her father's,
something that came from her mother's family and that he had wholly
lacked,--perseverance, a thing that people are apt to call obstinacy
when they do not sympathize with its object.
So busy was she with castle-building that she was quite surprised when
the brakeman called: "New Haven! Last stop. Change cars for New York and
Boston. Passengers all out!" and her uncle jumped up, flushed and stupid
with sleep and bundled her out of the train into the station restaurant
"to snatch a bite of dinner" before they went on.