MRS. KUMP'S BIRTHDAY
Mrs. Kump's home, a one-storied frame building, stood on the west bank
of a run that trickled down from the hills to the river; a small window
faced the main road, while two others with the 'front' door between,
opened upon a porch thickly trellised with grape vines; a couple of
steps at one end of the porch led to a wooden platform which bridged
the stream.
At six o'clock that morning the dew lay heavy upon the matted grape
leaves, and over the little vegetable garden behind the house, with its
outlying poles of hop-vines and sweet-peas.
The scent of pennyroyal came from the banks of the stream; the birds
twittered round the little gray house and the sun shone upon it feebly,
through a thick wall of fog.
Stepping softly across the bridge and through the green opening of the
porch went Hugh and Mat, those worthy aids of the Happy-Go-Luckys; in
front of the door they placed the birthday offerings, and then, giving
a resounding knock on the panel, they ran and hid in the bushes across
the road.
Presently the door opened and a gray head peered forth, then out
stepped a thin figure in a blue calico wrapper. With hands upraised
she advanced to the porch steps.
"The grocer's man made a mistake," the boys heard her say. She gazed
along the road but no one was in view. Retracing her steps she bent
over the baskets.
"There's a card on 'em. The owner's name, I reckon. I'll get my specs
and see!"
"Now's our chance to light out!" whispered Mat, and away they flew.
Mrs. Lee crossed the bridge that same evening, followed by Nettie in
starched white frock and golden curls.
A clump of hollyhocks made a gorgeous splash of color against the wall
of the house beneath the end window. Four-o'clocks, ragged-robins and
blue lark-spur struggled up through the cabbages and long grass of the
little garden, to bid them welcome, and at the door they were met by
the mistress of the house, who had heard their footsteps.
Mrs. Kump was a large-boned woman of medium height; her complexion was
of golden bronze; the flesh had fallen, giving her cheeks a square set,
and her dark eyes gleamed brightly beneath a broad wrinkled brow; a cap
of black lace surmounted her head, a white net fichu was crossed on her
breast and fastened with a cameo pin in a wide gold frame, and her
dress was of silver gray.
She led the way into the little sitting-room and drew aside the muslin
half-curtains. Through the open window came the murmur of the running
stream, the scent of pennyroyal, and the rays of the setting sun.
A striped rag carpet covered the floor and the walls, with gorgeous
papering of flowers and vines, were hung with many old fashioned
pictures.
There was the Lord's Prayer in an intricate design of crimson and gold,
a framed sampler and motto, and smaller pictures in square and oval
frames; these for the most part friends and relatives of the owner,
their pictured features shadowed and dimmed by time.
In the middle of the room a square table with a red, woolen cover, held
a half-dozen books cross-cornered one upon the other in several groups;
a glass lamp filled with red-colored water and oil stood in the center,
the top covered with a paper shade and the bottom swathed in a woolen
mat.
A high, wooden mantel, painted black, occupied the other end of the
room; the fireplace was hidden by a square, cambric screen, with a
cut-out picture of fruit and flowers pasted in the center. Nettie's
glance was immediately taken by a white marble book, with yellow
painted edges and clasps, lying upon the old glass-knobbed bureau.
Mrs. Kump drew the straight-backed rattan rocker to the open window,
giving it a hurried dusting with her black silk apron, and invited Mrs.
Lee to be seated.
Then, as she noticed her visitor looking at the quilting frames which
occupied one end of the room, she said,
"You'll think I'm slighting your quilt, Mis' Lee!--I got so far back on
the job, with my poor legs bothering me so! But sez I to myself, 'I'll
try and catch up on Thursday,' but when I went to the door this mornin'
and found the good fairies' offerings, I fairly wilted. I made up my
mind to keep the day, and I'm keepin' it; I haven't done a stroke of
work!"
Mrs. Lee looked interested.
"The day--yes--I believe you told me--"
"My birthday--sixty-seven--the years do run up when once you begin to
count 'em! But about the baskets--thinks I to myself, 'The grocer's
man left 'em at the wrong place,' but he must have druv away fast,
there wasn't a soul in sight, and then I comes in for my specs and
there was my name writ in black and white 'Mrs. Keturah Kump, with best
wishes for her birthday!' I nearly wilted! I got so narvous-like that
I could hardly lift 'em! And who was livin' to care for me or my
birthday? All my folks dead--all but the young ones. They live out
west and don't bother their heads about me. But about the
baskets--you'd orter see what they held--a good share of
everything--I'll show you my cupboard stocked, and lots of things down
cellar--and there, I'd been worryin' and doubtin', not bein' able to
work for so long. I don't mind tellin' you, Mis' Lee, now that things
is changed for the best, that I was about at the end of my string.
Sugar and tea about out and not enough flour to last a day longer! I
unpacked the baskets and stood and looked at the things--butter and
eggs and bread and cake and blackberry jam, the only spread I ever et,
and I put 'em away as if in a dream, leavin' out a snack to make
breakfast, though I was so excited I couldn't swallow a bite!
"I put on a drawin' of tea, and puttered about settin' the table, when
all at once I spied a little passel that I had set aside when I brought
the baskets in. So I opened it--and what do you think! I sat right
down by the table and cried and cried! It seemed to me that the other
things might be for any old, worn-out woman, but this was just for me,
and it went straight to my heart! The loveliest blue box, the inside
fixed with lace just like the valentines that poor David sent me when
he came courtin', and it was filled with candy, the loveliest you ever
saw!--with real cherries and vi'lets fixed up, lookin' too good to eat!
Just think--for me, a poor old woman that most people would think it
all wasted on! Something beautiful came over the day, I felt young
again, and vigorous and proud and happy all at once, just like I used
to feel long years ago when I'd first see the Johnny-jump-ups in the
spring, way down in the medder near the creek!"
Mrs. Kump rose suddenly and went to the big bureau, wiping her glasses
as she went. Coming back, she proudly displayed Alene's box.
"Take some, child," she said to Nettie, "and you too, Mis' Lee! I
thought at first it was too good for me to eat but it'll get spiled, so
I'll eat it little by little, and I can keep the box to hold some
trinkets I've had for years! Just see the little silver tongs!
Nothin' was too good for me! Why, I felt so perked up that I got out
my best dress and my silk apron, to do honor to the day!"
A score of years seemed to fall from the speaker, her eyes gleamed
brightly, as she glanced from her silver-toned best dress to her
listener's sympathetic countenance.
As she wended her way homeward with Nettie, who carried a huge bouquet
from Mrs. Kump's garden, Mrs. Lee's thoughts dwelt on the old lady's
words.
"I wish the girls had been along to hear--Ah, there they are!" she
said, as, coming in sight of the Bonner house, she saw Laura and Ivy
seated on the front steps.
Nettie gave a screech of delight and jumped across a gutter to make a
short cut to exhibit her flowers.
Mrs. Bonner, hearing voices, came to the door and one of the boys
brought out chairs for her and Mrs. Lee.
"As you are all so much interested, I guess I'll sit down a while and
tell you all about Mrs. Kump's birthday!" said Mrs. Lee. "Now, not so
many questions! Yes, she got the baskets with her name printed so
artistically on the card, and she never suspects who gave the things.
She has enough to tide her over for a long time, and the jam went to
the right spot, but guess what it was that pleased her the most."
"Old ladies are very fond of tea," ventured Mrs. Bonner.
"The print of butter!" cried Ivy.
"Mrs. Bonner's coffee cake," said Laura.
They made several other guesses but Mrs. Lee still shook her head.
"I know," said Nettie quickly, "it was that blue box!"
"Not Alene's candy!" cried Laura, incredulously.
"Yes, that was it!"
Mrs. Lee thereupon told what Mrs. Kump had said, word for word.
A silence followed the recital.
"Who would have thought it?" Laura said at last.
"Ah, Laura dear, you forgot the thought behind the gift. 'The love of
the giver is greater than the gift of the lover,'" said Mrs. Lee.