But Jennifer found that it was more than a new chapter in her life--it
was a new world into which she stepped at once: a world where everything
was so much more than she ever dared to ask or think, that half the time
she was like one in a dream, and shook herself, as she said, to see if
she were really awake. Before she could get to her door, the lads came
rushing out to meet her with the news that a pair of leggings had come
for each of them, and a couple of billhooks; and there in all their
pride they stood, ready to go forth at once and cut down all the forests
of the world, if they had but the chance. And they must needs take their
mother, hungry and tired as she was, away to the edge of the coppice, to
show her the place that was cleared for their new cottage. Poor Jennifer
sighed a prayer that the Lord would keep her humble; worthy of it all
she felt she never could be.
At dawn the next day the boys were up--men in the estimate of
themselves, and more than most men in their eagerness to get at the
work, sweetened as the thought of it was by the fact that every stroke
was to make the coming cottage their own. Breakfast to-day was a duty
somewhat begrudged. They were impatient of its delay. At last they were
off and at it, coat and waistcoat flung aside.
An old labourer had been sent on that first day to direct them in the
work, for there are two ways even of cutting down a coppice--a right and
a wrong--and of tying faggots. But he got there only to find a good
half-day's work had somehow already been got through.
But Jennifer herself never did so little. To her it was all so new and
strange that she could scarcely steady herself to do anything. In place
of the silent fields there came the cheery voices of her lads, and the
hacking of the billhook; then the bending of the tough boughs was new to
her, and the binding of the faggots.
And underneath all was a certain glow of gladness that disturbed her.
She was so near home, and was now her own mistress too, that she could
not resist the temptation of going off to look after her "poor dear," as
she called her husband.
[Illustration]
And instead of hurrying back, she stayed to wrap him up, and then must
needs bring him out along the lane and over the thick bed of dead leaves
and through the rough undergrowth of the coppice to sit on the first
faggot that she had bound. And there she sat beside him, while the sun
peeped in at them between the young leaves; and the bold robin hopped up
to look at them in wonder; and all the birds sang to them, and the sweet
breath of things came with its benediction. Presently, as if ashamed of
herself, she hurried off to join the busy sons. Yet before long there
was Jennifer,--the hardest-working woman in the parish at other
times--creeping slyly over to have a cheery word with her husband, and
trying to amuse him by her skill in this craft, until her happy laughter
rang out upon the silence, and even he tried to join. In a day or two,
however, both mother and sons had got into the mysteries of the art; and
went on steadily clearing the place, amazing themselves and everybody
else at the speed with which the work was done. No hour seemed too early
to begin, and none too late to leave off.
Soon there arrived the man who had bought the wood and faggots, and then
began the further mystery of accounts, each faggot duly entered and
each payment recorded. And Jennifer's pride found a new subject in the
cleverness of her sons, for the minutest matters seemed to require the
two heads to settle it.
But now it was that there came Jennifer's great trouble. Such joy could
not fail to bring with it some bitterness somewhere.
Three pounds an acre was the price to be given for the clearing. And
twenty acres came to nothing less than _sixty pounds_.
To Jennifer, who had not seen a bit of gold for years until she had
given the half sovereign to the new chapel, it was really a terrible
thing to have to do with so much money. The little broken teapot looked
full, and the top of the dresser was no safe place in which to keep such
treasures. She could not sleep at night, but must needs get up and go
fumbling about to feel if it was all right. She dreaded to leave home,
and went back three or four times to see to her husband, she said; but
even he had to wait until she had looked at the teapot. The little that
she spent upon the household was a mere nothing. She feared to carry so
much all at once to her good friend to whom it was to be paid toward
the new cottage. At last the lads were sent off to him with a message
entreating him to come as soon as possible. "I shall go out of my mind
or into the 'sylum," Jennifer declared, and began to wish once more for
the sweet simplicity of the fields and her sixpence a day. However, that
trouble was soon done with, and time, the kindly healer of our griefs,
made even this tolerable.
[Illustration]
The work was by no means done when the coppice was cleared. Roots and
stumps had to be dug up, and the ground to be cleared for planting the
potatoes, and the seed had to be bought; in all of which her good
friend took as much interest as if it was his own, and more. And here
was a new lot of accounts to be duly recorded. Jennifer was glad to
leave all that to her boys, who sat every evening figuring away until
it seemed to her, as she looked over their shoulders, that they did more
business than all the rest of the world put together.
[Illustration]