But to-morrow was not fine; it was quite the contrary. Shenac milked in
the rain, and gathered vegetables for dinner in the rain, and would
gladly have made hay all day in the rain, if that had been possible.
Not a pin cared Shenac for the rain. It wet her face, and twined her
hair into numberless little rings all over her head, and that was the
very worst it could do. It could not spoil her shoes, for in summer she
did not wear any, unless she was in the field; and it took the rain a
long time to penetrate through the thick woollen dress she always wore
in rainy weather. Indeed, she rather liked to be out in the rain,
especially when there was a high wind, against which she might measure
her strength; and she was just going to propose to her mother that she
should set out to The Eleventh for the dye-stuffs, when the door opened,
and her cousin Shenac came in.
Rain or shine, Shenac Dhu was always welcome, and quite a chorus of
exclamations greeted her.
"Toch! what about the rain! I'm neither salt nor sugar to melt in it,"
she said, as Shenac Bhan took off her wet plaid and drew her towards the
fire. "I must not stay," she continued.--"Hamish, have you done with
your book? Mr Rugg stayed at our house last night, and he's coming
here next, and so I ran over the field to see his pretty things.--O
Shenac, he has such a pretty print this time--blue and white."
"But could you not see his pretty things last night? And are you to get
a dress of the blue and white?" asked Shenac Bhan.
"Of course I could see them, but I could not take a good look at them
because my father was there. He thinks me a sensible woman, and I can't
bear to undeceive him; and my eyes have a trick of looking at pretty
things as though I wanted them, and that looks greedy. But I'm not for
a dress of the blue and white. Mysie Cairns in The Sixteenth has one,
and that's enough for one township."
"But Mr Rugg will not open his packs here; we want nothing," said
Shenac Bhan, "unless he may have dye-stuffs for my mother."
"He has no dye-stuffs--you'll get that at The Eleventh," said Shenac
Dhu; "but it's nonsense about not wanting anything. I'll venture to say
that Mr Rugg will leave more here than he left at our house, or at any
house in the town-ship. I wish he would come."
They all had plenty to say to Shenac Dhu, but that her mind was full of
other things it was easy to see. She laughed and chatted, but she
watched the window till the long, high waggon of the peddler came in
sight, and then she drew Shenac Bhan into a corner and kept her there
till the door opened.
"Good-morning, good-morning," said the peddler as he came in. Glancing
round the room, he stood still on the door-mat with a comical look of
indecision on his face. "I don't suppose you want to see me enough to
pay for the tracks I shall make on the floor," he said to Shenac Bhan.
"I don't know as I should have come round this way this time, only I've
got something for you--something you'll be glad to have."
Everybody was indignant at the idea of his not coming in.
"Never mind the floor," said Shenac Bhan. "We don't want anything
to-day, but we are glad to see you all the same."
"Don't say you don't want anything till you see what I've got," said Mr
Rugg gravely. "I ha'n't no doubt there's a heap of things you would
like, if you could get them. Now, a'n't there?"
"She wants a wig, for one thing," said Shenac Dhu.
"Well, no; I calculate she'll get along without that as well as most
folks. I don't see as you spoiled your looks, for all Mrs More said,"
he added, as he touched with his long forefinger one of the little rings
that clustered round Shenac's head. "Come, now, a'n't there something
I've got that you want?" he asked as Shenac turned away with an
impatient shrug.
"No; not if you haven't a wig. Do we want anything, mother? It is not
worth while to open your box in the rain."
Mr Rugg was already out of hearing.
"We can look at them, at any rate," said Shenac Dhu. But Shenac Bhan
looked very much as if she did not intend to do even that, till the door
opened again, and Mr Rugg walked in, followed by Dan, and between them
they carried a spinning-wheel.
"A big wheel, just like Mary Matheson's!" exclaimed Shenac Bhan.
"No; a decided improvement upon that," said Mr Rugg, preparing to put
on the rim and the head. The band was ready, too; and he turned the
wheel and pulled out an imaginary thread with such gravity that all
laughed. "Well, what do you think of it, girls?" he asked after a
little time. "Will you have it, Miss Shenac?"
"I should like to borrow it for a month," said Shenac with a sigh.
"It a'n't to be lent nor to be borrowed," said the peddler; "leastways,
it a'n't for me to lend. The owner may do as she likes."
"How much would it cost?" asked Shenac with a vague, wild idea that
possibly at some future time she might get one.
"I can tell you that exactly," said the peddler. "I've got the invoice
here all right, and another document with it;" and he handed Shenac a
letter, directed, as she knew at a glance, in the handwriting of her
cousin, Mrs More.
"It's from Christie," said Shenac Dhu, looking over her shoulder. "Open
it, Shenac; what ails you?"
Shenac opened the letter, and the other Shenac read it with her. It
need not be given here. It told how Mrs More had taken Shenac's hair
to a hair-dresser in the city, and how the money she had received for it
had been given into the hands of Mr Rugg, who was to buy a wheel with
it, as something Shenac would be sure to value.
"And here it is," said Mr Rugg; "as good a wheel as need be.--It will
put yours quite out of fashion, Mrs Macivor."
It was with some difficulty that the mother could be made to understand
that the wheel was Shenac's--bought and paid for. As for Shenac, she
could only stand and look at it, saying not a word. Shenac Dhu shook
her heartily.
"Here I have come all the way in the rain to hear what you would say,
and you stand and glower and say nothing at all."
"Try it, Shenac," said Hamish, bringing a handful of rolls of wool from
his mother's wheel.
"She'll need to learn first," said Shenac Dhu.
But Shenac had tried Mary Matheson's wheel more than once; and besides,
as Mr Rugg had often said, and now triumphantly repeated, she had a
"faculty." There really did seem nothing that she could not learn to do
more easily than other people. Now the long thread was drawn out even
and fine as any that ever passed through the mother's hands on the
precious little wheel. The mother examined and approved, Shenac Dhu
exclaimed, and the little lads laughed and clapped their hands. As for
Shenac Bhan, she could hardly believe in her own good fortune. She did
not seem to hear the talk or the laugh, but, with a face intent and
grave, walked up and down, drawing out the long, even threads, and then
letting them roll up smoothly on the spindle.
"Take it moderate, Miss Shenac," said the peddler, "take it moderate.
It don't pay to overdo even a good thing."
But Shenac was busy calculating how many days' work there might be in
the wool, and how long it would take her to finish it.
"The rainy days will not be lost now," she said to herself triumphantly.
"Of course I must stick to the hay; but mornings and evenings and rainy
days I can spin. No fear for the lads' clothes now."
"Hamish," said Shenac Dhu, "I shall never see her without fancying she
has a wheel on her head."
Hamish laughed. His pleasure in the pleasure of his sister was intense.
"I don't know what we can ever say to Christie for her kindness," he
said.
"We'll write a letter to her, Hamish, you and I together," said his
sister eagerly. "I can't think how it all happened. But I am so glad
and thankful; and I must tell Christie."
The next day was fair. When Shenac went out with little Hugh to the
milking in the pasture, she thought she heard the pleasant sound of the
whetting of scythes nearer than the fields of Angus Dhu. She could see
nothing, however, because of the mist that lay close over the low lands.
But when she went out after breakfast to spread the grass cut by Dan
during the rainy days, she found work going on that made Dan's efforts
seem like play.
"Is it a bee?" said Shenac to herself.
No, it was not a bee, Aleck Munroe said, but he and the other lads
thought there was as much hay down in their fields as could be well
cared for, and so they thought they would see what could be done in
their neighbour's. It was likely to continue fine now, as the weather
had cleared at the change of the moon; and a few hours would help here,
without hindering there.
"Help! Yes, indeed!" thought Shenac as she watched the swinging of the
scythes, and saw the broad swaths of grain that fell as they passed on.
Dan followed, but he made small show after the young giants that had
taken the work in hand; and in a little while he made a virtue of
necessity and exchanged the scythe for the spreading-pole, to help
Shenac and the little ones in the merry, healthful work.
After this there were no more rainy days while the hay-time lasted.
Shenac and Dan were not the first in all the concessions to finish the
getting in of the hay, but they were by no means the last. It was all
got in in a good state, too; and the grain-harvest began cheerfully and
ended successfully. Shenac took the lead in the cutting of the grain.
In those days, in that part of the country, there were none of those
wonderful machines which now begin to make farm-work light. The horses
were used to draw the grain and hay to the barn or the stacks when it
was ready; but there were no patent rakes or mowing or reaping machines
for them to draw. All the wheat, and a good deal of the other grain,
was cut down with the old-fashioned hook or sickle, the reapers stooping
low to their work. It was tedious and exhausting labour, and slow, too.
Shenac's "faculty" and perfect health stood her in good stead at this
work as at other things. She tired herself thoroughly every day, but
she was young and strong; and though the summer nights were short there
was no part of them lost to her, for she fell asleep the moment her head
touched the pillow. Even thoughts of the weary and suffering Hamish did
not often disturb her rest. She slept the dreamless sleep of perfect
health till the dawn awakened her, cheerful and ready for another day's
labour.
They had very little help for the harvest. There was one moonlight bee.
They say the grain is more easily cut with the dew upon it; and
moonlight bees are common in Glengarry even now. But Shenac and her
brothers knew nothing of this one till, on going out in the morning,
they found more than half of their wheat lying ready to be bound up in
sheaves.
The rest of the harvest was very successful. Indeed, it was a
favourable harvest everywhere that year. There was rejoicing through
all the township--through many town-ships; and even the most earthly and
churlish of the farmers assented with a good grace when a day of
thanksgiving was appointed, and kept it outwardly in appearance, if not
inwardly with the heart.
As for Shenac, it would be impossible to describe her triumph and
thankfulness when the last sheaf was safely gathered in. For she was
truly thankful, though I am afraid her triumphant self-congratulation
went even beyond her thankfulness. Her thankfulness was not displayed
in a way that made it apparent to others; but it filled her heart and
gave her courage to look forward. It did more than this: it gave her a
self-reliance quite unusual--indeed not very desirable--in one so young;
and there was danger, all the greater because she was quite unconscious
of it, that it might degenerate into something different from an humble
yet earnest self-reliance. But there was nothing of that as yet, and
all the little household rejoiced together.
The spinning too had prospered. In the mornings and evenings, and on
rainy days, the wheel had been busy; and now the yarn, dyed and ready,
lay in the house of weaver McLean, waiting to be woven into heavy cloth
for the boys; and the flannel for shirts and gowns would not be long
behind. So Shenac made a pause, and took time to breathe, as Hamish
said.
And, really, with a plentiful harvest gathered safely in, there seemed
little danger of want; and Shenac's thoughts were more hopeful than
anxious when she looked forward. The mother was more cheerful, too,
than she had been since the father's death. She was always cheerful
now, when matters went smoothly and regularly among them. It was only
when vexations arose, when Dan was restless or inclined to be
rebellious, or when the children stood in need of anything which they
could not get, or when she fancied that the affairs of the farm were not
going on well, that she grieved over the past or fretted for the
home-coming of Allister. The little ones went to school again after the
harvest--the little boys and Flora; and altogether matters seemed to
promise to move smoothly on, and so the mother was content.
There was one thing that troubled the mother and Shenac too. The
harvest-work had been hard on Hamish, and in the haste and eagerness of
the busy time Shenac had not been so mindful of him as she might have
been, and he suffered for it afterwards; and it grieved them all that
his voice should be so seldom heard as it was among them, for Hamish
never complained. The more he suffered, the more quiet he grew. It was
not bodily pain alone with which he struggled on in silence. It was
something harder to bear--a sense of helplessness and uselessness, a
fear of becoming a burden when there was so much to bear already. And,
worse than even this, there was the knowledge that there lay no bright
future before him, as there might lie before the rest. He must always
be a helpless cripple. He could have no hope beyond the weary round of
suffering which fell to his lot day by day. What the others did with a
will, with a sense of power and pleasure, was a weariness to him. There
were times when he wished that death might come and end it all; but he
never spoke of himself, unless Shenac made him speak. His fits of
depression did not occur often, and Shenac came at last to think it was
better to let them pass without notice; and, though her eye grew more
watchful and her voice more tender, she said nothing for a while, but
waited patiently for more cheerful days.