2. SPEAK UNTO THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL, AND TAKE OF EVERY ONE OF THEM
A ROD ACCORDING TO THE HOUSE OF THEIR FATHERS, OF ALL THEIR PRINCES
ACCORDING TO THE HOUSE OF THEIR FATHERS TWELVE RODS: WRITE THOU EVERY
MAN'S NAME UPON HIS ROD.
Through the boy's mind there darted the flash of a thought, a sad
thought. He himself was a Rod on whom no man's name seemed to be
written, orphan that he was, with no knowledge of his parents!
Suddenly he hesitated, for he had caught sight of the name of Aaron in
the verse that he was about to read, and did not wish to pronounce it in
his aunt's hearing.
“This chapter is most too hard for me to read out loud, Aunt Boynton,”
he stammered. “Can I study it by myself and read it to Ivory first?” “Go
on, go on, you read very sweetly; I can not remember what comes and I
wish to hear it.”
The boy continued, but without raising his eyes from the Bible.
3. AND THOU SHALT WRITE AARON'S NAME UPON THE ROD OF LEVI: FOR ONE ROD
SHALL BE FOR THE HEAD OF THE HOUSE OF THEIR FATHERS.
4. AND THOU SHALT LAY THEM UP IN THE TABERNACLE OF THE CONGREGATION
BEFORE THE TESTIMONY, WHERE I WILL MEET WITH YOU.
5. AND IT SHALL COME TO PASS THAT THE MAN'S ROD, WHOM I SHALL CHOOSE,
SHALL BLOSSOM: AND I WILL MAKE TO CEASE FROM ME THE MURMURINGS OF THE
CHILDREN OF ISRAEL, WHEREBY THEY MURMUR AGAINST YOU.
Rodman had read on, absorbed in the story and the picture it presented
to his imagination. He liked the idea of all the princes having a rod
according to the house of their fathers; he liked to think of the little
branches being laid on the altar in the tabernacle, and above all he
thought of the longing of each of the princes to have his own rod chosen
for the blossoming.
6. AND MOSES SPOKE UNTO THE CHILDREN OF ISRAEL, AND EVERY ONE OF THEIR
PRINCES GAVE HIM A ROD A PIECE, FOR EACH PRINCE ONE, ACCORDING TO THEIR
FATHER'S HOUSES, EVEN TWELVE RODS; AND THE ROD OF AARON WAS AMONG THEIR
RODS.
Oh! how the boy hoped that Aaron's branch would be the one chosen to
blossom! He felt that his aunt would be pleased, too; but he read on
steadily, with eyes that glowed and breath that came and went in a very
palpitation of interest.
7. AND MOSES LAID UP THE RODS BEFORE THE LORD IN THE TABERNACLE OF
WITNESS.
8. AND IT CAME TO PASS, THAT ON THE MORROW MOSES WENT INTO THE
TABERNACLE OF WITNESS; AND, BEHOLD, THE ROD OF AARON WAS BUDDED AND
BROUGHT FORTH BUDS, AND BLOOMED BLOSSOMS, AND YIELDED ALMONDS.
It was Aaron's rod, then, and was an almond branch! How beautiful,
for the blossoms would have been pink; and how the people must have
marvelled to see the lovely blooming thing on the dark altar; first
budding, then blossoming, then bearing nuts! And what was the rod chosen
for? He hurried on to the next verse.
9. AND MOSES BROUGHT OUT ALL THE RODS FROM BEFORE THE LORD UNTO ALL THE
CHILDREN OF ISRAEL: AND THEY LOOKED, AND TOOK EVERY MAN HIS ROD.
10. AND THE LORD SAID UNTO MOSES, BRING AARON'S ROD AGAIN BEFORE THE
TESTIMONY TO BE KEPT FOR A TOKEN AGAINST THE REBELS; AND THOU SHALT
QUITE TAKE AWAY THEIR MURMURINGS FROM ME, THAT THEY DIE NOT.
“Oh! Aunt Boynton!” cried the boy, “I love my name after I've heard
about the almond rod! Aren't you proud that it's Uncle's name that was
written on the one that blossomed?”
He turned swiftly to find that his aunt's knitting had slipped on the
floor; her nerveless hands drooped by her side as if there were no life
in them, and her head had fallen against the back of her chair. The boy
was paralyzed with fear at the sight of her closed eyes and the deathly
pallor of her face. He had never seen her like this before, and Ivory
was away. He flew for a bottle of spirit, always kept in the kitchen
cupboard for emergencies, and throwing wood on the fire in passing, he
swung the crane so that the tea-kettle was over the flame. He knew only
the humble remedies that he had seen used here or there in illness,
and tried them timidly, praying every moment that he might hear Ivory's
step. He warmed a soapstone in the embers, and taking off Mrs. Boynton's
shoes, put it under her cold feet. He chafed her hands and gently poured
a spoonful of brandy between her pale lips. Then sprinkling camphor on
a handkerchief he held it to her nostrils and to his joy she stirred in
her chair; before many minutes her lids fluttered, her lips moved, and
she put her hand to her heart.
“Are you better, Aunt dear?” Rod asked in a very wavering and tearful
voice.
She did not answer; she only opened her eyes and looked at him. At
length she whispered faintly, “I want Ivory; I want my son.”
“He's out, Aunt dear. Shall I help you to bed the way Ivory does? If
you'll let me, then I'll run to the bridge 'cross lots, like lightning,
and bring him back.”
She assented, and leaning heavily on his slender shoulder, walked feebly
into her bedroom off the living-room. Rod was as gentle as a mother
and he was familiar with all the little offices that could be of any
comfort; the soapstone warmed again for her feet, the bringing of her
nightgown from the closet, and when she was in bed, another spoonful
of brandy in hot milk; then the camphor by her side, an extra homespun
blanket over her, and the door left open so that she could see the open
fire that he made into a cheerful huddles contrived so that it would not
snap and throw out dangerous sparks in his absence.
All the while he was doing this Mrs. Boynton lay quietly in the bed
talking to herself fitfully, in the faint murmuring tone that was
habitual to her. He could distinguish scarcely anything, only enough to
guess that her mind was still on the Bible story that he was reading to
her when she fainted. “THE ROD OF AARON WAS AMONG THE OTHER RODS,” he
heard her say; and, a moment later, “BRING AARON'S ROD AGAIN BEFORE THE
TESTIMONY.”
Was it his uncle's name that had so affected her, wondered the boy,
almost sick with remorse, although he had tried his best to evade her
command to read the chapter aloud? What would Ivory, his hero, his
pattern and example, say? It had always seen Rod's pride to carry his
little share of every burden that fell to Ivory, to be faithful and
helpful in every task given to him. He could walk through fire without
flinching, he thought, if Ivory told him to, and he only prayed that he
might not be held responsible for this new calamity.
“I want Ivory!” came in a feeble voice from the bedroom.
“Does your side ache worse?” Rod asked, tip-toeing to the door.
“No, I am quite free from pain.”
“Would you be afraid to stay alone just for a while if I lock both doors
and run to find Ivory and bring him back?”
“No, I will sleep,” she whispered, closing her eyes. “Bring him quickly
before I forget what I want to say to him.”
Rod sped down the lane and over the fields to the brick store where
Ivory usually bought his groceries. His cousin was not there, but one of
the men came out and offered to take his horse and drive over the bridge
to see if he were at one of the neighbors' on that side of the river.
Not a word did Rod breathe of his aunt's illness; he simply said that
she was lonesome for Ivory, and so he came to find him. In five minutes
they saw the Boynton horse hitched to a tree by the road-side, and in a
trice Rod called him and, thanking Mr. Bixby, got into Ivory's wagon to
wait for him. He tried his best to explain the situation as they drove
along, but finally concluded by saying: “Aunt really made me read the
chapter to her, Ivory. I tried not to when I saw Uncle's name in most
every verse, but I couldn't help it.”
“Of course you couldn't! Now you jump out and hitch the horse while I
run in and see that nothing has happened while she's been left alone.
Perhaps you'll have to go for Dr. Perry.”
Ivory went in with fear and trembling, for there was no sound save the
ticking of the tall clock. The fire burned low upon the hearth, and the
door was open into his mother's room. He lifted a candle that Rod
had left ready on the table and stole softly to her bedside. She was
sleeping like a child, but exhaustion showed itself in every line of her
face. He felt her hands and feet and found the soapstone in the bed; saw
the brandy bottle and the remains of a cup of milk on the light-stand;
noted the handkerchief, still strong of camphor on the counterpane, and
the blanket spread carefully over her knees, and then turned approvingly
to meet Rod stealing into the room on tiptoe, his eyes big with fear.
“We won't wake her, Rod. I'll watch a while, then sleep on the
sitting-room lounge.”
“Let me watch, Ivory! I'd feel better if you'd let me, honest I would!”
The boy's face was drawn with anxiety. Ivory's attention was attracted
by the wistful eyes and the beauty of the forehead under the dark
hair. He seemed something more than the child of yesterday--a care and
responsibility and expense, for all his loving obedience; he seemed all
at once different to-night; older, more dependable, more trustworthy; in
fact, a positive comfort and help in time of trouble.
“I did the best I knew how; was anything wrong?” asked the boy, as Ivory
stood regarding him with a friendly smile.
“Nothing wrong, Rod! Dr. Perry couldn't have done any better with what
you had on hand. I don't know how I should get along without you, boy!”
Here Ivory patted Rod's shoulder. “You're not a child any longer, Rod;
you're a man and a brother, that's what you are; and to prove it I'll
take the first watch and call you up at one o'clock to take the second,
so that I can be ready for my school work to-morrow! How does that suit
you?”
“Tip-top!” said the boy, flushing with pride. “I'll lie down with my
clothes on; it's only nine o'clock and I'll get four hours' sleep;
that's a lot more than Napoleon used to have!”
He carried the Bible upstairs and just before he blew out his candle
he looked again at the chapter in Numbers, thinking he would show it to
Ivory privately next day. Again the story enchanted him, and again, like
a child, he put his own name and his living self among the rods in the
tabernacle.
“Ivory would be the prince of our house,” he thought. “Oh! how I'd like
to be Ivory's rod and have it be the one that was chosen to blossom and
keep the rebels from murmuring!”