Really, if Prince had been a vain dog, his ego would certainly have
become unduly developed because of this incident. The Corners, as a
community, voted him an acquisition, whereas heretofore he had been
looked upon as a good deal of a nuisance.
After she recovered from her fright, Miss Minnie walked home with
Carolyn May and allowed Prince's delighted little mistress to encourage
the "hero" to "shake hands with teacher."
"Now, you see, he's acquainted with you, Miss Minnie," said Carolyn May.
"He's an awful nice dog. You didn't know just how nice he was before.
But I _am_ glad he didn't really bite that dirty-looking old tramp, Miss
Minnie. I expect it would have made Prince sick. And I'm going to take
that piece of his old coat and bury it in the garden."
Even Mr. Stagg had a good word at last to say for Prince; for he had
been coming home to supper at the moment the dog chased the thievish
tramp through the village.
"We have too many of that gentry here because of the railroad. I wish
he'd chase 'em all out of town," declared the hardware dealer.
Besides, he profited by the incident. The very next day Miss Minnie came
into his store and bought one of the very nicest dog collars he had in
stock--a green leather one with brass rivet heads studding it and a shiny
nameplate.
The silversmith, Mr. Murchiston, took almost a week to engrave on it:
_Prince_
_For a Brave Deed_
The next Friday noon Miss Minnie told Carolyn May she could bring Prince
to school with her--of course, on his leash. By this time all the other
pupils had learned that, even if he did look savage, Prince was quite as
gentle and friendly as little Carolyn May herself, and they had ceased
to be afraid of him.
The afternoon session closed at the usual recess time, and then it was
that Miss Minnie presented the new collar to Prince, with, as Mr. Brady,
the trustee, would have said, "a few appropriate words."
The big girl invented another verse in imitation of "Mary's Little
Lamb," and recited it:
"'_What makes Prince love Car'lyn so?'
The little children cry.
'Why, Car'lyn loves the dog, you know,'
The teacher doth reply._"
"Oh, dear me!" sighed Carolyn May happily. "It's just like a party--a
birthday party. We never celebrated Prince's birthday before, or gave
him any kind of party. But I _know_ he enjoys it."
He certainly did seem to appreciate the honour, and bore himself proudly
with the new green collar around his neck. Uncle Joe attached his
S.P.C.A. license tag to it, which jingled like a bangle.
Carolyn May was glad to see Uncle Joe do this. Everything that Uncle Joe
did which showed he thought of something besides his business pleased
his little niece.
"You see," she told Aunty Rose, "I know Uncle Joe doesn't _look up_
enough. Whenever I'm in his store I almost always see him at his desk
working at that great big book in which he keeps his accounts.
"Chet Gormley says he always is at it--Sundays, too. You know, Aunty
Rose, he walks down to the store every Sunday after dinner and stays
till supper time."
"I know it, child," the housekeeper agreed. "Joseph Stagg is completely
wrapped up in his business."
"Yes. My papa had to work hard, and awful long hours, too. But when he
was away from the newspaper office he said he always left business
behind him. He looked up at the sky and listened to the birds sing.
Leastways," said Carolyn May honestly, "he listened to the sparrows
quarrel. There weren't many other birds on our block, 'cept a parrot;
and he scolded awfully."
At any rate, she was quite sure that Uncle Joe ought to be interested in
something besides his hardware store. She thought about this a good
deal. And, finally, she laid an innocent little trap for him.
Of one tenet of the Friends' belief Aunty Rose was thoroughly convinced:
no cooking went on in the Stagg kitchen after breakfast on the Sabbath.
Of course, they had dinner, but save for hot tea or coffee or soup the
viands at that meal and at supper were cold.
Sometimes during the warm weather there were heaps of Aunty Rose's
flaky-crusted apple turnovers, baked the day before, to crumble into
bowls of creamy milk, or there were piles of lovely sandwiches and eggs
with mayonnaise, and suchlike delicacies.
Aunty Rose, however, removed her work apron when the breakfast dishes
were washed and put away and the kitchen "ridded up," and for the
remainder of Sunday she did only the very necessary things about the
house.
If she did not walk to town to attend the Friends' Meeting House, she
sat in a straight-backed chair and read books that--to Carolyn May--looked
"awfully religious." However, she did not make the day of rest a
nightmare to the child. The little girl had her picture books, as well
as her Sunday-school papers, and she could stroll about or play quietly
with Prince.
The Corners was not burdened with the arrival of Sunday papers from the
city, with their blotchy-looking supplements and unsightly so-called
"funny sheets." Almost everybody went to church, and all the children to
Sunday-school, which was held first.
The Reverend Afton Driggs, though serious-minded, was a loving man. He
was fond of children, and he and his childless wife gave much of their
attention to the Sunday-school. Mrs. Driggs taught Carolyn May's class
of little girls. Mrs. Driggs did her very best, too, to get the children
to stay to the preaching service, but Carolyn May had to confess that
the pastor's discourses were usually hard to understand.
"And he is always reading about the 'Begats,'" she complained gently to
Uncle Joe as they went home together on this particular Sunday--the one
following the presentation of Prince's new collar--"and I _can't_ keep
interested when he does that. I s'pose the 'Begats' were very nice
people, but I'm sure they weren't related to us--they've all got such
funny names."
"Hum!" ejaculated Uncle Joe, smothering a desire to laugh. "Flow gently,
sweet Afton, does select his passages of Scripture mostly from the
'valleys of dry bones,' I allow. You've got it about right there,
Carolyn May."
"Uncle Joe," said the little girl, taking her courage in both hands,
"will you do something for me?" Then, as he stared down at her from
under his bushy brows, she added: "I don't mean that you aren't _always_
doing something for me--letting me sleep here at your house, and eat with
you, and all _that_. But something special."
"What is the 'something special'?" asked Mr. Stagg cautiously.
"Something I want you to do to-day. You always go off to your store
after dinner, and when you come home it's too dark."
"Too dark for what?"
"For us to take a walk," said the little girl very earnestly. "Oh, Uncle
Joe, you don't know how _dreadful_ I miss taking Sunday walks with my
papa! Of course, we took 'em in the morning, for he had to go to work on
the paper in the afternoon, but we did just about go _every_where.
"Sometimes," pursued Carolyn May in reminiscence, "we went to a very,
very early morning service in a church. It was held pertic'lar for folks
that worked at night. It wasn't like our church where I went to
Sunday-school, for there were boys in long dresses, and they swung
little dishes on chains, with something burning in 'em that smelled
nice, and the minister did all the talking----"
"Humph!" snorted Mr. Stagg, who was just as startled as was the Reverend
Mr. Driggs by any new idea.
"And then we walked," sighed Carolyn May. "Of course, we had often to
take a ride first before we could get a place to walk in--not on
pavement. On real dirt and grass! Under the trees! Where the birds sang!
And the flowers lived! Oh, Uncle Joe! do you know how pretty the woods
are now? The trees and bushes are all such lovely colours. I don't dare
go very far alone--not even with Prince. I might get lost, Aunty Rose
says.
"But if you would go with me," the little girl added wistfully, "just
this afternoon, seems to me I wouldn't feel so--so _empty_."
That "empty" feeling from which the little girl suffered when she
thought of her parents and her old life she did not often speak of. Mr.
Stagg looked down at her earnest face and saw that the blue eyes were
misty. But Carolyn May was brave.
"Humph!" said Uncle Joe, clearing his throat. "If it's going to do you
any particular good, Car'lyn May, I suppose I can take a walk with you.
I expect the chestnuts are ripe."
"Oh, they _are_, Uncle Joe! And I've wanted to get just a few. But
whenever Princey and I go to any of the trees near by, there are always
squirrels--and they do quarrel so! I s'pose that's all they'll have to
eat this winter, and maybe the winter is going to be a hard one. That's
what Tim, the hackman, says. I don't want to rob the poor little
squirrels. But couldn't we give 'em something instead to eat, and so
take a few of their nuts?"
"The squirrels always were piggish," chuckled Uncle Joe. "I don't
believe they are entitled to more'n a bushel apiece. Anyway, we'll take
a basket with us."
This they did. Although Aunty Rose was very strict with herself on
Sunday, she did not disapprove of this walk. And certainly Prince did
not.
Once off his chain and realising that they were bound for the woods, he
acted like a mad dog for the first few minutes. As they crossed the
already browning fields he dashed back and forth, now far ahead, now
charging back at them as though determined to run them down. Then he
rolled on the grass, crept on his stomach, tearing up the sod with his
strong claws, and barking with delight.
"That fool pup hasn't got the sense he was born with," declared Uncle
Joe, but without rancour.
"He's just happy," explained Carolyn May. "You see, he's happy for
himself and happy for us, too. So he just has to show off this way. It
isn't really that he hasn't good sense, Uncle Joe."
It was a crisp day--one of those autumn days when the tang of frost
remains in the air, in spite of all the efforts of the sun to warm it.
The sumac had blushed redly all along the hedgerows. The young oak
leaves were brown and curled. Under foot, the dead leaves rustled and
whispered. The bare-limbed beeches looked naked, indeed, among the other
trees. Even the yellowing leaves of the chestnuts themselves were
rattling down without a breath of wind stirring.
The jays screamed at the party as they wheeled swiftly through the wood.
Once Prince jumped a rabbit from its form, and Uncle Joe actually urged
the excited dog in his useless chase of the frightened creature. But
Carolyn May could not approve of that.
"You see," she said gravely, "although it's lots of fun for Prince, we
don't know just how the rabbit feels about it. Maybe he doesn't want to
run so hard. There! Prince has given it up. I'm glad."
She did not mind the dog's chasing and barking at the squirrels. They
were well out of reach. One excited squirrel leaped from a tree top into
the thick branches of another tree, sailing through the air "just like
an aeroplane." Carolyn May had seen aeroplanes and thought she would
like to go up in one.
"Of course," she explained, "not without somebody who knew all about
coming down again. I wouldn't want to get stuck up there."
Here and there they stopped to pick up the glossy brown chestnuts that
had burst from their burrs. That is, Carolyn May and her uncle did.
Prince, after a single attempt to nose one of the prickly burrs, left
them strictly alone.
"You might just as well try to eat Aunty Rose's strawberry needle
cushion, Princey," the little girl said wisely. "You'll have a sorer
nose than Amos Bartlett had when he tried to file it down with a wood
rasp."
"Hum!" ejaculated Mr. Stagg, "whatever possessed that Bartlett child to
do such a fool trick?"
"Why, you know his nose _is_ awfully big," said Carolyn May. "And his
mother's always worried about it. She must have worried Amos, too, for
one day last week he went over to Mr. Parlow's shop, borrowed a wood
rasp, and tried to file his nose down to a proper size. And _now_ he has
to go with his nose all greased and shiny till the new skin grows back
on it."
"Bless me, what these kids will do!" muttered Mr. Stagg.
"Now, _I've_ got big feet," sighed Carolyn May. "I know I have. But I
hope I'll grow up to them. I wouldn't want to try to pare them off to
make them smaller. If they have got such a long start ahead of the rest
of me, I really believe that the rest of me will catch up to my feet in
time, don't you?"
"Nothing like being hopeful," commented Mr. Stagg drily.
It was just at that moment that the little girl and the man, becoming
really good comrades on this walk, met with an adventure. At least, to
Carolyn May it was a real adventure, and one she was not to forget for a
long, long time.
Prince suddenly bounded away, barking, down a pleasant glade, through
the bottom of which flowed a brook. Carolyn May caught a glimpse of
something brown moving down there, and she called shrilly to the dog to
come back.
"But that's _some_body, Uncle Joe" Carolyn May said with assurance, as
the dog slowly returned. "Prince never barks like that, unless it's a
person. And I saw something move."
"Somebody taking a walk, like us. Couldn't be a deer," said Mr. Stagg.
"Oh," cried Carolyn May a moment later, "I see it again. That's a skirt
I see. Why, it's a lady!"
Mr. Stagg suddenly grew very stern-looking, as well as silent. All the
beauty of the day and of the glade they had entered seemed lost on him.
He went on stubbornly, yet as though loath to proceed.
"Why," murmured Carolyn May, "it's Miss Amanda Parlow! That's just who
it is!"
The carpenter's daughter was sitting on a bare brown log by the brook.
She was dressed very prettily, all in brown. Carolyn May had seen her
that day in church in this same pretty dress.
For some weeks Miss Amanda had been away "on a case." Carolyn May knew
that she was a trained nurse and was often away from home weeks at a
time. Mr. Parlow had told her about it.
The little girl wanted to speak to the pretty Miss Amanda, but she
looked again into Uncle Joe's countenance and did not dare.