JUBE FINDS HIS WAY TO BAYS HOLLOW.
The next morning, while Paul and Rose were playing in the
dining-room--the little girl having been granted a holiday on account of
the boy's arrival--there arose in the kitchen a sudden commotion, which
attracted Mrs. Prior's attention. She went out, and found her little
handmaiden in conversation with an immense negro, who looked so
good-natured and anxious, that it was a wonder he could have frightened
anybody, although the girl appeared somewhat inclined to run away.
When Mrs. Prior entered, the man turned toward her with a ponderous bow.
"What do you want, my good man?" she asked, gently.
"My young masser is here," Jube said, with another salute.
"Your young master?"
"Yes; Masser Paul."
"Are you his servant?"
"Yes, if madame pleases. Jube came with him from the old home, saw the
mistress buried, and has been wandering about with little masser ever
since."
"He told me about you," said Mrs. Prior.
"Yes, madame. So when madame sent masser away, Jube meant to stay there
and take care of the house. But Jube would have died--came after little
masser. Please take me, madame. Jube can work; he'll do any thing, big,
big, strong."
He extended his stalwart arms as a proof of his words, and Mrs. Prior
was touched by his earnestness.
"We have no need of any more help," she said.
"Oh, yes; Jube be great help--jis take me, madame, you see--no be
sorry, no indeed."
"I would willingly, for the child's sake, but we are not rich; my
husband could not afford to pay you wages."
"Jube not want wages--no good of money. Please let Jube stay, lady."
Mrs. Prior went up to the study to hold a private consultation with her
husband; while she was gone, Paul and Rose passed through the kitchen.
At the sight of the negro, the boy gave a cry of delight, and rushed
into his arms, with a burst of tears and wild ejaculations. Jube sobbed
aloud, and it was some time before either of them could in the least
recover their composure.
Rose stood looking at them in great astonishment; but when Paul managed
to explain that this was the Jube of whom he had told her, she cried and
laughed also, from pure sympathy, while the handmaiden worked herself
into such a state of bewilderment that she laid the forks where the
spoons belonged, put an empty tin pan into the oven, instead of the
pudding, which was ready for baking, and performed a variety of other
wonderful feats, which brought great disgrace upon her shortly after.
When Mrs. Prior and the clergyman came down-stairs, they found Paul
nestled close to his old friend, and looking so happy that the very idea
of refusing the negro's request sent a pang to their hearts.
"Jube must stay," Paul cried, in his exquisitely persuasive way; "please
to say yes, good madame--shan't he stay, sir?"
The clergyman looked at his wife, and she looked back at him; both were
extremely perplexed.
"Jube no want wages," said the negro, "only wants to live near little
masser."
"Yes, that is all," added Paul.
"We certainly cannot have the man," Mrs. Prior said to her husband.
"That is out of the question," he replied.
"But what can we do?"
"Settle it yourself, Mrs. Prior; your decision is sure to be a correct
and wise one."
With these complimentary words, the minister helped himself out of his
difficulty by leaving the room.
Mrs. Prior looked at the friends in great trouble; but little Paul
approached her chair and put his arms about her neck; Rose clung to her
hand and added her entreaties; while Jube gazed at her with his great,
honest eyes.
The result of all this affair was, that Jube insisted on making himself
so agreeable, and began at once to demonstrate his powers of usefulness
so acceptably that there was really no turning him out of doors.
The good fellow had some mechanical genius, and exerted it to the
delight of little Rose in furnishing her play-house, and building sleds
and wagons for Paul, large enough for her to ride in. Then, Jube made
such a splendid horse, and never got tired of carrying her or drawing
the little sled on which she rode. When she expressed a wish to ride on
horseback, Jube lifted her to his broad shoulders, or put out his foot,
which instantly swung itself into full canter, and away she went,
rushing off to "Canterbury Cross" in high glee.
To Mrs. Prior, both Jube and his little master were objects of peculiar
interest. Paul was eloquent in his own language, and through its medium
he conveyed many pleasant fancies to the mind of Rose, and thus, all in
play, brought her through the first practice of a study her mother had
greatly at heart.
As the winter snows melted, and the sweet spring days came on, it was
pleasant to see Jube seated with the children--at heart, almost as much
of a child as either of them--beneath a huge apple tree that stood in
the meadow, and covered one of the most lovely strawberry slopes in the
world with its shadow.
As the bright days came on, the favor of instruction was not altogether
on one side. Rose had her own little accomplishments, which she taught
in shy triumph in exchange for the sweet language and pretty names
bestowed on her. She taught Paul how to curl dandelion stems into
innumerable ringlets, and made an astonishing halter of daisy chains for
Jube, that was not the less perfect because it broke into a shower of
white blossoms at the first hard pull, and littered the grass like a
snow-storm. Then she could braid rushes seven strands at a time, and
weave them into such pretty green baskets that Mrs. Prior considered
them the pet ornaments of her parlor.
Besides these accomplishments, Rose had a delicious voice, and sung
snatches of music at her work. These wild strains so excited the robins
in the apple tree boughs that they forgot nest-building and love-making,
to join in a chorus that rang all over the meadow, bringing other birds
to see what it was all about, who liked the premises, and built their
nests also among the sweet blossoms and leaves of dainty green, till the
old tree was a marvel for its feathered population.
I am afraid Rose sometimes followed Paul up into the apple tree, taking
shy peeps at the pretty blue eggs which he exposed by sweeping the soft
leaves back from the nest with his hands. Once or twice Mrs. Prior found
her in a corner of the garret, making desperate efforts to darn a long
rent in her dress, and crying bitterly because the cloth would draw into
knots and gathers under her hand, more conspicuous than the original
tear had been, which must have strengthened this suspicion about the
apple tree very much.
Of course the good lady remedied this evil with her own deft little
fingers, and Mrs. Mason was too busy with other things just then to heed
torn frocks or the shamefacedness which on ordinary occasions would have
betrayed them.
Thus time wore on, till Mrs. Mason had become a dashing performer on the
piano, for she practiced day and night on the accomplishments that she
willed to master, and in every thing made up for deficiencies by
audacious self-possession. Thus, while Rose and the birds were singing
out of doors, she sent a storm of music through the open windows, which
were just far enough from the apple tree to excite the birds without
frightening them to death.