Mr. Enderton's letter astonished and angered me, but, in spite of my
indignation, I could not help smiling at the unexpected way in which
he had put a stop to the probable perpetual peregrinations of the
ginger-jar. I handed the letter to Mr. Dusante, and when he had read
it his face flushed, and I could see that he was very angry, although
he kept his temper under excellent control.
"Sir," he said presently, "this shall not be allowed. That jar, with
its contents, is my property until Mrs. Lecks has consented to receive
it. It is of my own option that I return it at all, and I have decided
to return it to Mrs. Lecks. Any one interfering with my intentions
steps entirely beyond the line of just and warrantable procedure. Sir,
I shall not go westward to-morrow morning, but, with my family, will
accompany you to Chicago, where I shall require Mr. Enderton to
return to me my property, which I shall then dispose of as I see fit.
You must excuse me, sir, if anything I have said regarding this
gentleman with whom you are connected has wounded your sensibilities."
"Oh, don't think of that!" I exclaimed. "Pitch into Enderton as much
as you please, and you may be sure that I shall not object. When I
took the daughter to wife, I did not marry the father. But, of course,
for my wife's sake I hope this matter will not be made the subject of
public comment."
"You need have no fear of that," said Mr. Dusante; "and you will allow
me to remark that Mr. Enderton's wife must have been a most charming
lady."
"Why do you think so?" I asked.
"I judge so," he answered, with a bow, "from my acquaintance with Mrs.
Craig."
I now went immediately to Ruth, who, I found, knew nothing of what had
occurred, except that her father had gone on to Chicago in advance of
our party, and had had time only to bid her a hasty good-bye. I made
no remarks on this haste which would not allow Mr. Enderton to take
leave of us, but which gave him time to write a letter of some length;
and as Ruth knew nothing of this letter, I determined not to mention
it to her. Her father's sudden departure surprised her but little,
for she told me that he always liked to get to places before the rest
of the party with whom he might be journeying. "Even when we go to
church," she said, "he always walks ahead of the rest of us. I don't
understand why he likes to do so, but this is one of his habits."
When I informed Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine of what had happened,
they fairly blazed.
"I don't know what Mr. Dusante calls it," exclaimed Mrs. Lecks, "but I
know what I call it!"
"Yes, indeed!" cried Mrs. Aleshine, her round eyes sparkling with
excitement; "if that isn't ex-honesty, then he ain't no ex-missionary!
I pity the heathen he converted!"
"I'll convert him," said Mrs. Lecks, "if ever I lay eyes on him!
Walkin' away with a package with my name on it! He might as well take
my gold spectacles or my tortoise-shell comb! I suppose there's no
such thing as ketchin' up with him, but I'll telegraph after him; an'
I'll let him know that if he dares to open a package of mine, I'll put
the law on him!"
"That's so," said Mrs. Aleshine. "You kin send telegraphs all along
the line to one station an' another for conductors to give to him in
the cars, an' directed to Mr. Enderton, a tall man with gray-mixed
hair an' a stolen bundle. That's the way they did in our place when
Abram Marly's wife fell into the cistern, an' he'd jus' took the cars
to the city, an' they telegraphed to him at five different stations to
know where he'd left the ladder."
"Which ain't a bad idea," said Mrs. Lecks, "though his name will be
enough on it without no description; an' I'll do that this minute, an'
find out about the stations from the clerk."
"You must be very careful," I said, "about anything of that kind, for
the telegrams will be read at the stations, and Mr. Enderton might be
brought into trouble in a way which we all should regret; but a
dispatch may be worded so that he, and no one else, would understand
it."
"Very well," said Mrs. Lecks, "an' let's get at it; but I must say
that he don't deserve bein' saved no trouble, for I'm as sure as that
I'm a livin' woman that he never saved nobody else no trouble sence
the first minute he was born."
The following dispatch was concocted and sent on to Bridger, to be
delivered to Mr. Enderton on the train:
The package you know of has been stolen. You will recognize the
thief. If he leaves it at Chicago hotel, let him go. If he opens
it, clap him in jail.
MRS. LECKS.
"I think that will make him keep his fingers off it," said Mrs. Lecks;
"an' if Mr. Dusante chooses to send somethin' of the same kind to some
other station, it won't do no harm. An' if that Enderton gets so
skeered that he keeps out of sight and hearin' of all of us, it'll be
the best thing that's happened yet. An' I want you to understan', Mr.
Craig, that nothin' 's goin' to be said or done to make your wife feel
bad; an' there's no need of her hearin' about what's been done or
what's goin' to be done. But I'll say for her, that though, of course,
Mr. Enderton is her father and she looks up to him as such, she's a
mighty deal livelier and gayer-hearted when he's away than when he's
with her. An' as for the rest of us, there's no use sayin' anythin'
about our resignedness to the loss of his company."
"I should say so," said Mrs. Aleshine; "for if there ever was a man
who thought of himself ninety-nine times before he thought of anybody
else once, an' then as like as not to forgit that once, he's the man.
An' it's not, by no means, that I'm down on missionaries, for it's
many a box I've made up for 'em, an' never begrudged neither money nor
trouble, an' will do it ag'in many times, I hope. But he oughtn't to
be called one, havin' given it up,--unless they gave him up, which
there's no knowin' which it was,--for if there's anything which shows
the good in a man, it's his bein' willin' to give up the comforts of a
Christian land an' go an' convert heathens; though bein' willin' to
give up the heathens an' go for the comforts shows him quite
different, besides, as like as not, chargin' double, an' only half
convertin'."
Mr. Dusante was fully determined to go on with us until he had
recovered possession of the ginger-jar. His courteous feelings towards
Mrs. Craig and myself prevented his saying much about Mr. Enderton,
but I had good reason to believe that his opinions in regard to my
father-in-law were not very different from those of Mrs. Lecks and
Mrs. Aleshine. Ever since Mr. Enderton had shown his petulant
selfishness, when obliged to give up his room at the railroad station
for the use of the women of his party, Mr. Dusante had looked upon him
coldly, and the two had had but little to say to each other.
We were all very glad that our pleasant party was not to be broken up;
and although there was no resignation at the absence of the
ginger-jar, we started on our journey the next day in a pleasanter
mood for the absence of Mr. Enderton. Before we left, Mr. Dusante sent
a telegram to Kearney Junction, to be delivered to Mr. Enderton when
he arrived there. What this message was I do not know, but I imagine
its tone was decided.
Our journey to Chicago was a pleasant one. We had now all become very
well acquainted with each other, and there was no discordant element
in the combined party. Some of us were a little apprehensive of
trouble, or annoyance at least, awaiting us in Chicago, but we did not
speak of it; and while Ruth knew nothing of her father's misbehavior,
it might have been supposed that the rest had forgotten it.
At Chicago we went at once to Brandiger's Hotel, and there we found,
instead of Mr. Enderton, a letter from him to Ruth. It read as
follows:
MY DEAR DAUGHTER: I have determined not to wait here, as
originally intended, but to go on by myself. I am sorry not to
meet you here, but it will not be long before we are together
again, and you know I do not like to travel with a party. Its
various members always incommode me in one way or another. I had
proposed to go to Philadelphia and wait for you there, but have
since concluded to stop at Meadowville, a village in the interior
of Pennsylvania, where, as they have informed me, the two women,
Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine, reside. I wish to see the party all
together before I take final leave of them, and I suppose the two
women will not consent to go any farther than the country town in
which they live. Inclosed is a note to your husband relating to
business matters. I hope that he will take the best of care of
you during the rest of the journey, and thus very much oblige
YOUR AFFECTIONATE FATHER.
This was my note:
MR. CRAIG. SIR: I should have supposed that you would have been
able to prevent the insolent messages which have been telegraphed
to me from some members of your party, but it is my lot to be
disappointed in those in whom I trust. I shall make no answer to
these messages, but will say to you that I am not to be
browbeaten in my intention to divide among its rightful claimants
the money now in my possession. It is not that I care for the
comparatively paltry sum that will fall to myself and my
daughter, but it is the principle of the matter for which I am
contending. It was due to me that the amount should have been
returned to me, and to no other, for me to make the proper
division. I therefore rest upon my principles and my rights; and,
desiring to avoid needless altercations, shall proceed to
Meadowville, where, when the rest of my party arrive, I shall
justly apportion the money. I suppose the man Dusante will not be
foolish enough to protract his useless journey farther than
Chicago. It is your duty to make him see the impropriety of so
doing.
Yours, etc.,
D. J. ENDERTON.
Ruth's letter was shown to all the party, and mine in private to Mr.
Dusante, Mrs. Lecks, and Mrs. Aleshine. When the first moments of
astonishment were over, Mrs. Lecks exclaimed:
"Well, after all, I don't know that I'm so very sorry that the old
sneak has done this, for now we're rid of him for the rest of the
trip; an' I'm pretty certain, from the way he writes, that he hasn't
dipped into that jar yet. We've skeered him from doin' that."
"But the impidence of him!" said Mrs. Aleshine. "Think of his goin' to
the very town where we live an' gittin' there fust! He'll be settin'
on that tavern porch with every loafer in the place about him, an'
tellin' 'em the whole story of what happened to us from beginning to
end, till by the time we git there it'll be all over the place an' as
stale as last week's bread."
"'The man Dusante,'" quietly remarked that individual, "will not
abandon the purpose of his journey. He left his island to place in the
hands of Mrs. Lecks, on behalf of her party, the ginger-jar with the
money inclosed. He will therefore go on with you to Meadowville, and
will there make formal demand, and, if necessary, legal requisition,
for the possession of that jar and that money; after which he will
proceed to carry out his original intentions."
We all expressed our pleasure at having him, with his ladies, as
companions for the remainder of our journey, and Mrs. Lecks
immediately offered them the hospitalities of her house for as long a
time as they might wish to stay with her.
"The weather there," she said, "is often splendid till past
Thanksgivin' Day, an' nobody could be welcomer than you."
"I'd have asked you myself," said Mrs. Aleshine, "if Mrs. Lecks hadn't
done it,--which of course she would, bein' alive,--but I'm goin' to
have Mr. Craig an' his wife, an' as our houses is near, we'll see each
other all the time. An' if Mr. Enderton chooses to stay awhile at the
tavern, he can come over to see his daughter whenever he likes. I'll
go as fur as that, though no further can I go. I'm not the one to turn
anybody from my door, be he heathen, or jus' as bad, or wuss. But tea
once, or perhaps twice, is all that I can find it in my heart to offer
that man after what he's done."
As the Dusantes and Ruth expressed a desire to see something of
Chicago, where they had never been before, we remained in this city
for two days, feeling that as Mr. Enderton would await our coming,
there was no necessity for haste.
Early in the afternoon of the second day I went into the parlor of the
hotel, where I expected to find our party prepared for a sight-seeing
excursion; but I found the room tenanted only by Mrs. Aleshine, who
was sitting with her bonnet and wraps on, ready to start forth. I had
said but a few words to her when Mrs. Lecks entered, bonnetless and
shawlless, and with her knitting in her hand. She took a seat in a
large easy-chair, put on her spectacles, and proceeded to knit.
"Mrs. Lecks!" exclaimed her friend in surprise, "don't you intend
goin' out this afternoon?"
"No," said Mrs. Lecks. "I've seen all I want to see, an' I'm goin' to
stay in the house an' keep quiet."
"Isn't Mr. Dusante goin' out this afternoon?" asked Mrs. Aleshine.
Mrs. Lecks laid her knitting in her lap; then she took off her
spectacles, folded them, and placed them beside the ball of yarn; and,
turning her chair around, she faced her friend. "Barb'ry Aleshine,"
said she, speaking very deliberately, "has any such a thing got into
your mind as that I'm settin' my cap at Mr. Dusante?"
"I don't say you have, an' I don't say you haven't," answered Mrs.
Aleshine, her fat hands folded on her knees, and her round face
shining from under her new bonnet with an expression of hearty
good-will, "but this I will say,--an' I don't care who hears it,--that
if you was to set your cap at Mr. Dusante there needn't nobody say
anything agin it, so long as you are content. He isn't what I'd choose
for you, if I had the choosin', for I'd git one with an American name
an' no islands. But that's neither here nor there, for you're a grown
woman an' can do your own choosin'. An' whether there's any choosin'
to be done is your own business too, for it's full eleven years sence
you've been done with widder fixin's; an' if Mr. Lecks was to rise up
out of his grave this minute, he couldn't put his hand on his heart
an' say that you hadn't done your full duty by him, both before an'
after he was laid away. An' so, if you did want to do choosin', an'
made up your mind to set your cap at Mr. Dusante, there's no word to
be said. Both of you is ripe-aged an' qualified to know your own
minds, an' both of you is well off enough, to all intents an'
purposes, to settle down together, if so inclined. An' as to his
sister, I don't expect she will be on his hands for long. An' if you
can put up with an adopted mother-in-law, that's your business, not
mine; though I allus did say, Mrs. Lecks, that if you'd been
'Piscopalian, you'd been Low Church."
"Is that all?" said Mrs. Lecks.
"Yes," replied the other; "it's all I have to say jus' now, though
more might come to me if I gave my mind to it."
"Well, then," said Mrs. Lecks, "I've somethin' to say on this p'int,
and I'm very glad Mr. Craig is here to hear it. If I had a feelin' in
the direction of Mr. Dusante that he was a man, though not exactly
what I might wish, havin' somethin' of foreign manners with ties in
the Sandwich Islands, which I shouldn't have had so if I'd had the
orderin' of it, who was still a Christian gentleman,--as showed by his
acts, not his words,--a lovin' brother; an' a kind an' attentive son
by his own adoption; and who would make me a good husband for the rest
of our two lives; then I'd go and I'd set my cap at him--not bold nor
flauntin', nor unbecomin' to a woman of my age, but just so much
settin' of it at him, that if he had any feelin's in my direction, and
thought, although it was rather late in life for him to make a change,
that if he was goin' to do it he'd rather make that change with a
woman who had age enough, and experience enough in downs as well as
ups, and in married life as well as single, to make him feel that as
he got her so he'd always find her; then I say all he'd have to do
would be to come to me an' say what he thought, an' I'd say what I
thought, an' the thing would be settled, an' nobody in this world need
have one word to say, except to wish us joy, an' then go along and
attend to their own business.
"But now I say to you, Barb'ry Aleshine, an' just the same to you, Mr.
Craig, that I haven't got no such feelin's in the direction of Mr.
Dusante, an' I don't intend to set my cap at him, an' if he wore such
a thing and set it at me, I'd say to him, kind though firm, that he
could put it straight again as far as I was concerned; an' that if he
chose to set it at any other woman, if the nearest an' dearest friend
I have on earth, I'd do what I could to make their married lives as
happy as they could be under the circumstances; and no matter what
happened, I wouldn't say one word, though I might think what I
pleased. An' now you have it, all straight and plain: if I wanted to
set caps, I'd set 'em; and if I didn't want to set 'em, I wouldn't. I
don't want to, and I don't."
And, putting on her spectacles, she resumed her knitting.
Mrs. Aleshine turned upon her friend a beaming face.
"Mrs. Lecks," she said, "your words has lifted a load from off my
mind. It wouldn't ha' broke me down, an' you wouldn't never have
knowed I carried it; but it's gone, an' I'm mighty glad of it. An' as
for me an' my cap,--an' when you spoke of nearest and dearest friends,
you couldn't meant nobody but me,--you needn't be afraid. No matter
what I was, nor what he was, nor what I thought of him, nor what he
thought of me, I couldn't never say to my son when he comes to his
mother's arms, all the way from Japan: 'George, here's a Frenchman who
I give to you for a father!'"
Here I burst out laughing, but Mrs. Lecks gravely remarked: "Now I
hope this business of cap-settin' is settled an' done with."
"Which it is," said Mrs. Aleshine, as she rose to meet the rest of our
party as they entered the room.
For several days I could not look upon the dignified and almost
courtly Mr. Dusante without laughing internally and wondering what he
would think if he knew how, without the slightest provocation on his
side, a matrimonial connection with him had been discussed by these
good women, and how the matter had been finally settled. I think he
would have considered this the most surprising incident in the whole
series of his adventures.
On our journey from Chicago to the little country town in the interior
of Pennsylvania we made a few stops at points of interest for the sake
of Ruth and the Dusante ladies, Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine
generously consenting to these delays, although I knew they felt
impatient to reach their homes. They were now on most social terms
with Mrs. Dusante, and the three chatted together like old friends.
"I asked her if we might call her Emily," said Mrs. Aleshine in
confidence to me, "an' she said, 'yes,' an' we're goin' to do it. I've
all along wanted to, because it seemed to come nat'ral, considerin' we
knowed 'em as Emily and Lucille before we set eyes on 'em. But as long
as I had that load on my mind about Mrs. Lecks and Mr. Dusante, I
couldn't 'Emily' his adopted mother. My feelin's wouldn't ha' stood
it. But now it's all right; an' though Emily isn't the woman I
expected her to be, Lucille is the very picter of what I thought she
was. And as for Emily, I never knowed a nicer-mannered lady, an' more
willin' to learn from people that's had experience, than she is."
We arrived at Meadowville early in the afternoon, and when our party
alighted from the train we were surprised not to see Mr. Enderton on
the platform of the little station. Instead of him, there stood three
persons whose appearance amazed and delighted us. They were the
red-bearded coxswain and the two sailor men, all in neat new clothes
and with their hands raised in maritime salute.
There was a cry of joy. Mrs. Aleshine dropped her bag and umbrella,
and rushed towards them with outstretched hands. In a moment Mrs.
Lecks, Ruth, and myself joined the group, and greeted warmly our
nautical companions of the island.
The Dusante party, when they were made acquainted with the mariners,
were almost as much delighted as we were, and Mr. Dusante expressed in
cordial words his pleasure in meeting the other members of the party
to whom his island had given refuge.
"I am so glad to see you," said Mrs. Aleshine, "that I don't know my
bonnet from my shoes! But how, in the name of all that's wonderful,
did you git here?"
"'T ain't much of a story," said the coxswain, "an' this is just the
whole of it. When you left us at 'Frisco we felt pretty downsome, an'
the more that way because we couldn't find no vessel that we cared to
ship on; an' then there come to town the agent of the house that owned
our brig, and we was paid off for our last v'yage. Then, when we had
fitted ourselves out with new togs, we began to think different about
this shippin' on board a merchant vessel, an' gittin' cussed at an'
livin' on hard-tack an' salt prog, an' jus' as like as not the ship
springin' a leak an' all hands pumpin' night an' day, an' goin' to
Davy Jones after all. An' after talkin' this all over, we was struck
hard on the weather bow with a feelin' that it was a blamed sight
better--beggin' your pardon, ma'am--to dig garden-beds in nice soft
dirt, an' plant peas, an' ketch fish, an' all that kind of shore work,
an' eatin' them good things you used to cook for us, Mrs. Aleshine,
and dancin' hornpipes fur ye, an' tamin' birds when our watch was off.
Wasn't that so, Jim an' Bill?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" said the black-bearded sailor men.
"Then says I, 'Now look here, mates, don't let's go and lark away all
this money, but take it an' make a land trip to where Mrs. Aleshine
lives,' which port I had the name of on a piece of paper which you
give me, ma'am."
And here Mrs. Aleshine nodded vigorously, not being willing to
interrupt this entrancing story.
"'An' if she's got another garden, an' wants it dug in, an' things
planted, an' fish caught, an' any other kind of shore work done, why,
we're the men for her; an' we'll sign the papers for as long a v'yage
as she likes, an' stick by her in fair weather or foul, bein' good for
day work an' night work, an' allus ready to fall in when she passes
the word.' Ain't that so, Jim and Bill?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" returned the sailor men with sonorous earnestness.
"Upon my word!" cried Mrs. Aleshine, tears of joy running down her
cheeks, "them papers shall be signed if I have to work night an' day
to find somethin' for you to do. I've got a man takin' keer of my
place now; but many a time have I said to myself that, if I had
anybody I could trust to do the work right, I'd buy them two fields of
Squire Ramsey's an' go into the onion business. An' now you sailor men
has come like three sea angels, an' if it suits you we'll go into the
onion business on sheers."
"That suits us tip-top, ma'am," said the coxswain; "an' we'll plant
inyans for ye on the shears, on the stocks, or in the dry-dock. It
don't make no dif'rence to us where you have 'em; jes pass the word."
"Well, well," said Mrs. Lecks, "I don't know how that's goin' to work,
but we won't talk about it now. An' so you came straight on to this
place?"
"That did we, ma'am," said the coxswain. "An' when we got here we
found the parson, but none of you folks. That took us aback a little
at fust, but he said he didn't live here, an' you was comin' pretty
soon. An' so we took lodgin's at the tavern, an' for three days we've
been down here to meet every train, expectin' you might be on it."
Our baggage had been put on the platform, the train had moved on, and
we had stood engrossed in the coxswain's narrative, but now I thought
it necessary to make a move. There was but one small vehicle to hire
at the station. This would hold but two persons, and in it I placed
Mrs. Dusante and Ruth, the first being not accustomed to walking, and
the latter very anxious to meet her father. I ordered the man to drive
them to the inn, which was about a mile from the station, where we
would stay until Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine should get their houses
properly aired and ready for our reception.
"Mrs. Craig will be glad to get to the tavern and see her father,"
said Mrs. Aleshine. "I expect he forgot all about its bein' time for
the train to come."
"Bless you, ma'am!" exclaimed the coxswain, "is she gone to the
tavern? The parson's not there!"
"Where is he, then?" asked Mrs. Aleshine.
"He's at your house, ma'am," replied the coxswain.
"An' what in the name of common sense is he doin' at my house!"
exclaimed Mrs. Aleshine, her eyes sparkling with amazement and
indignation.
"Well, ma'am, for one thing," said the coxswain, "he's had the front
door painted."
"What!" cried Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine in one breath.
"Yes," continued the coxswain; "the parson said he hated to see men
hangin' around doin' nothin'. An' then he looked about, an' said the
paint was all wore off the front door, an' we might as well go to work
an' paint that, an' he sent Jim to a shop to git the paint an'
brushes----"
"An' have 'em charged to me?" cried Mrs. Aleshine.
"Yes, ma'am," continued the coxswain. "An' Jim an' Bill holy-stoned
all the old paint off the door an' I painted it, havin' done lots of
that sort of thing on shipboard; an' I think it's a pretty good job,
ma'am--red at top and bottom an' white in the middle, like a steamer's
smoke-stack."
Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine looked at each other. "An' he told you to
do that?" said Mrs. Lecks.
"Yes, ma'am," answered the coxswain. "The parson said he never liked
to be nowhere without doin' what good he could. An' there was some
other paintin' he talked of havin' done, but we ain't got at it yit.
I s'posed he was actin' under your orders, an' I hope I haven't done
no wrong, ma'am."
"You're not a bit to blame," said Mrs. Aleshine; "but I'll look into
this thing. No fear about that! An' how did he come to go to my house?
An' how did he get in, I'd like to know?"
"All I know about that," said the coxswain, "is what the gal that's
livin' there told me, which she did along of askin' us if we was
comin' to live there too, an' if she should rig up beds for us
somewhere in the top-loft, but we told her no, not havin' no orders,
an' payin' our own way at the tavern. She said, said she, that the
parson come there an' 'lowed he was a friend of Mrs. Aleshine's an'
travelin' with her, an' that if she was at home she wouldn't let him
stay at no tavern; an' that knowin' her wishes he'd come right there,
an' 'spected to be took care of till she come. She said she felt
oncertain about it, but she tuck him in till she could think it over,
an' then we come an' certified that he was the parson who'd been along
with Mrs. Aleshine an' the rest of us. Arter that she thought it was
all right, an', beggin' your pardon if we was wrong, so did Jim an'
Bill an' me, ma'am."
"Now," exclaimed Mrs. Aleshine, "if that isn't exactly like Elizabeth
Grootenheimer! To think of Elizabeth Grootenheimer thinkin'! The
Grootenheimers always was the dumbest family in the township, an'
Elizabeth Grootenheimer is the dumbest of 'em all! I did say to myself
when I went away: 'Now, Elizabeth Grootenheimer is so stone dumb that
she'll jus' stay here an' do the little I tell her to do, an' hasn't
sense enough to git into no mischief.' An' now, look at her!"
She waved her hand in the direction of the invisible Elizabeth
Grootenheimer.
Mrs. Lecks had said very little during this startling communication,
but her face had assumed a stern and determined expression. Now she
spoke.
"I guess we've heard about enough, an' we'd better be steppin' along
an' see what else Mr. Enderton an' Elizabeth Grootenheimer is doin'."
The homes of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine were not far from each
other, and were situated about midway between the station and the
village inn, and in the direction of these our party now started. Mrs.
Aleshine, contrary to her custom, took the lead, and walked away with
strides of unusual length. Mrs. Lecks was close behind her, followed
by the two Dusantes and myself, while the three mariners, who insisted
upon carrying all the hand-baggage, brought up the rear. We stepped
quickly, for we were all much interested in what might happen next;
and very soon we reached Mrs. Aleshine's house. It was a good-sized
and pleasant-looking dwelling, painted white, with green shutters and
with a long covered piazza at the front. Between the road and the
house was a neat yard with grass and flower beds, and from the gate of
the picket-fence in front of the yard a brick-paved path led up to the
house.
Our approach had been perceived, for on the piazza, in front of the
gayly painted door, stood Mr. Enderton, erect and with a bland and
benignant smile upon his face. One hand was stretched out as if in
welcome, and with the other he gracefully held the ginger-jar, now
divested of its wrappings.
At this sight Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine made a simultaneous dash at
the gate, but it was locked. The two women stamped their feet in fury.
"Put down that jar!" shouted Mrs. Lecks.
"Elizabeth Grootenheimer! Elizabeth Grootenheimer!" screamed Mrs.
Aleshine. "Come here and open this gate."
"Break it down!" said Mrs. Lecks, turning to the sailors.
"Don't you do it!" exclaimed Mrs. Aleshine, throwing herself in front
of it. "Don't you break my gate! Elizabeth Grootenheimer!"
"My friends," said Mr. Enderton in clear, distinct tones, "be calm. I
have the key of that gate in my pocket. I locked it because I feared
that on your first arrival you would hurry up to the house in a
promiscuous way, and give heed to irrelevant matters. I wished to
address you in a body and in a position where your attention would not
be diverted from me. I hold here, my friends, the receptacle
containing the money which, under a misapprehension, was paid for our
board while on a desert island. This money I have taken care of, and
have carefully guarded for the benefit of us all. Unfortunately
objections have arisen to this guardianship, which were forwarded to
me by telegraph, but I have not heeded them. If you cannot see for
yourselves the propriety of my assumption of this trust, I will not
now undertake to enlighten you. But I hope there is no necessity for
this, for, having had time to give the matter your fullest attention,
I doubt not that you entirely agree with me. I will merely add, for I
see you are impatient, that the sum which will fall to the share of
each of us is comparatively insignificant, and in itself not worth
striving for; but what I have done has been for the sake of principle.
For the sake of principle I have insisted that this money should be
received by its rightful owners; for the sake of principle I assumed
the custody of it; and for the sake of principle I shall now empty the
contents of this jar--which by me has not been examined or
touched--upon the floor of this piazza, and I shall then proceed to
divide said contents into five suitable portions--the three mariners,
as I understand, having paid no board. The gate can then be opened,
and each one can come forward and take the portion which belongs to
him or to her. The portion of my daughter, whom I saw pass here in a
carriage, going, doubtless, to the inn, will be taken charge of by
myself."
"You man!" shrieked Mrs. Lecks, shaking her fist over the fence, "if
you as much as lift that paper of fish-hooks from out the top of that
ginger-jar, I'll----"
Here she was interrupted by the loud, clear voice of Mr. Dusante, who
called out: "Sir, I require you to put down that jar, which is my
property."
"I'll let you know," said Mrs. Lecks, "that other people have
principles!"
But what more she said was drowned by the voice of Mrs. Aleshine, who
screamed for Elizabeth Grootenheimer, and who was now so much excited
that she was actually trying to break open her own gate.
I called out to Mr. Enderton not to make trouble by disturbing the
contents of the jar; and even Miss Lucille, who was intensely amused
at the scene, could be heard joining her voice to the general clamor.
But the threats and demands of our united party had no effect upon Mr.
Enderton. He stood up, serene and bland, fully appreciating the
advantage of having the key of the gate's padlock in his pocket and
the ginger-jar in his hand.
"I will now proceed," said he. But at that moment his attention was
attracted by the three mariners, who had clambered over the pointed
pales of the fence and who now appeared on the piazza, Bill to the
right hand of Mr. Enderton, Jim to the left, and the red-bearded
coxswain at his back. They all seemed to speak at once, though what
they said we could not hear, nothing but a few hoarse mutterings
coming down to us.
But in consequence of what Bill said, Mr. Enderton handed him the key
of the gate; and in consequence of what Jim said, Mr. Enderton
delivered to him the ginger-jar; and in consequence of what the
coxswain said, he and Mr. Enderton walked off the piazza; and the two
proceeded to a distant corner of the yard, where they stood out of the
way, as it were, while the gate was opened. Bill bungled a little, but
the padlock was soon removed, and we all hurried through the gate and
up to the piazza, where Jim still stood, the ginger-jar held
reverently in his hands.
The coxswain now left Mr. Enderton, and that gentleman proceeded to
the open gate, through which he passed into the road, and then turned,
and in a loud and severe tone addressed Mrs. Aleshine:
"I leave your inhospitable house and go to join my daughter at the
inn, where I request you to send my valise and umbrella as soon as
possible."
Mrs. Aleshine's indignation at this invasion of her home and this
trampling on her right to open her own gate had entirely driven away
her accustomed geniality, and in angry tones she cried:
"Jus' you stop at that paint-shop when you git to the village, an' pay
for the paint you had charged to me; an' when you've done that you can
send for your things."
"Come, now, Barb'ry," said Mrs. Lecks, "don't let your feelin's run
away with you. You ought to be thankful that he's let you off so easy,
an' that he's gone."
"I'm all that," said Mrs. Aleshine; "an' on second thoughts, every
whip-stitch of his bag and baggage shall be trundled after him as soon
as I kin git it away."
We all now stood upon the piazza, and Mrs. Aleshine, in calmer tones,
but with her face still flushed from her recent excitement, turned to
us and said: "Now, isn't this a pretty comin' home? My front gate
fastened in my very face; my front door painted red and white; the
inside of the house, as like as not, turned upside down by that man
jus' as much as the outside; an' where in the world, I'd like to know,
is Elizabeth Grootenheimer?"
"Now, don't you be too hard on her," said Mrs. Lecks, "after havin'
been away from her so long. I haven't a doubt she's feedin' the pigs;
and you know very well she never would leave them as long as she felt
they needed her. You needn't mind if your house is upset, for none of
us is comin' in, havin' only intended to see you to your door, which I
must say is a pretty blazin' one."
"And now, Mrs. Lecks," said Mr. Dusante, taking, as he spoke, the
ginger-jar from the hand of Jim, "I think this is a suitable
opportunity for me to accomplish the object for which my present
journey was undertaken, and to return to you the contents of this
jar."
"Which," said Mrs. Lecks, in a very decided tone, "I don't take now no
more'n I did before."
Mr. Dusante looked surprised and troubled. After all the dangers and
adventures through which that ginger-jar had gone, I believe that he
expected Mrs. Lecks would at last relent and consent to accept it from
him.
"Now, look here," said Mrs. Aleshine, "don't let us have any more fuss
about the ginger-jar, or anything else. Let's put off talkin' about
that till we're all settled and fixed. It won't do for you to take the
jar to the tavern with you, Mr. Dusante, for like as not Mr. Enderton
will git hold of it ag'in, an' I know Mrs. Lecks won't let it come
into her house; so, if you like, you may jus' leave it here for the
present, and you may make up your minds nobody'll touch it while I'm
about. An' about I intend to be!"
This arrangement was gladly agreed upon, and the jar being delivered
to Mrs. Aleshine, we took our leave of her.
Mrs. Lecks found no difficulty in entering her gate, where she was
duly welcomed by a man and his wife she had left in charge, while the
Dusantes and myself walked on to the inn, or "Hotel," as its sign
imported, about which the greater part of the little town clustered.
The three mariners remained behind to await further orders from Mrs.
Aleshine.
By the afternoon of the next day the abodes of those two most
energetic and capable housewives, Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine, were
fully prepared for the reception of their visitors, and the Dusante
family were ensconced beneath the roof of the one, while my wife and I
were most warmly welcomed at the gayly adorned door of the other.
Mr. Enderton remained at the inn, where he found very comfortable
quarters, an arrangement satisfactory to all parties.
In Mrs. Aleshine's dwelling, where, from the very first, Lucille took
her position as a most constant visitor, being equally welcomed by
Ruth and the mistress of the house, all was satisfaction and high good
humor. The ceaseless activity and cheerful spirits of our hostess
seemed to animate us all. At Mrs. Lecks's home the case was different.
There, I could plainly see, there was a certain uneasiness amounting
almost to stiffness between Mrs. Lecks and Mr. Dusante. The latter had
not accomplished the purpose for which he had made this long journey;
and though, if things had turned out as he wished, he would have been
very glad to be the guest of Mrs. Lecks, still, under the present
circumstances, the situation did not suit him. Mrs. Lecks, too,
possessed an unsettled mind. She did not know when Mr. Dusante would
again endeavor to force back upon her the board-money in the
ginger-jar, and in this state of uneasy expectancy she was not at her
best.
"He's not satisfied," said she to me, on the morning after the
Dusantes had come to her; "he wants to do somethin', or else to go
away. I wish that ginger-jar had dropped into the bottom of the sea
while he was bringin' it, or else had smashed itself into a thousand
bits while he was slidin' down the mountain, and the money had melted
itself into the snow. S'posin' at the end of the week he was to come
to me and offer to pay me board for himself and his family, sayin'
that was no more than I'd done to him! Of course the two cases are not
a bit alike; for we went to his house strangers, without leave or
license, while he comes to mine as a friend, bein' fully invited and
pressed. But I don't suppose I could make him see it in that light,
and it worries me."
I was convinced that something ought to be done to end this unpleasant
state of affairs, and I took my wife and Miss Lucille into council on
the subject. After we had deliberated a little while an idea came to
Ruth.
"In my opinion," said she, "the best thing we can do with that
board-money is to give it to those three sailors. They are poor and
will be glad to get it; Mr. Dusante and Mrs. Lecks ought to be fully
satisfied, for the one doesn't keep it, and the other doesn't take it
back, and I'm sure that this plan will please all the rest of us."
This proposition was agreed to by the council, and I was appointed to
go immediately and lay it before the parties interested.
Mr. Dusante gave his ready consent to this proposal. "It is not what I
intended to do," said he, "but it amounts to almost the same thing.
The money is in fact restored to its owners, and they agree to make a
certain disposition of it. I am satisfied."
Mrs. Lecks hesitated a little. "All right," said she. "He takes the
money and gives it to who he chooses. I've nothin' to say against it."
Of course no opposition to the plan was to be expected from anybody
else, except Mr. Enderton. But when I mentioned it to him I found, to
my surprise, that he was not unwilling to agree to it. Half closing
the book he had been reading, he said: "What I have done was on behalf
of principle. I did not believe, and do not believe, that upon an
entirely deserted island money should be paid for board. I paid it
under protest, and I do not withdraw that protest. According to all
the laws of justice and hospitality the man who owned that island
should not retain that money, and Mrs. Lecks had no right to insist
upon such retention. But if it is proposed to give the sum total to
three mariners, who paid no board and to whom the gift is an absolute
charity, I am content. To be sure, they interfered with me at a moment
when I was about to make a suitable settlement of the matter, but I
have no doubt they were told to do so; and I must admit that while
they carried out their orders with a certain firmness characteristic
of persons accustomed to unreasoning obedience, they treated me with
entire respect. If equal respect had been shown to me at the beginning
of these disputes, it would have been much better for all concerned."
And opening his book, he recommenced his reading.
That afternoon all of us, except Mr. Enderton, assembled on Mrs.
Aleshine's piazza to witness the presentation of the board-money. The
three sailors, who had been informed of the nature of the proceedings,
stood in line on the second step of the piazza, clad in their best
toggery, and with their new tarpaulin hats in their hands. Mrs.
Aleshine went into the house and soon reappeared, carrying the
ginger-jar, which she presented to Mr. Dusante. That gentleman took
it, and stood holding it for a moment as if he were about to speak;
but even if he had intended to say anything he had no further
opportunity, for Mrs. Lecks now stepped forward and addressed him:
"Mr. Dusante," said she, "from what I have seen of you myself and
heard tell of you from others, I believe you are a man who tries to do
his duty, as he sees it, with a single heart and no turnin' from one
side to the other. You made up your mind that you'd travel over the
whole world, if it had to be done, with that ginger-jar and the
board-money inside of it, till you'd found the people who'd been
livin' in your house; and then that you'd give back that jar, jus' as
you'd found it, to the person who'd took upon herself the over-seein'
of the reg'lar payin' of the money, and the puttin' of it therein.
With that purpose in your mind you carried that jar over the ocean;
you wandered with it up and down California; and holdin' it tight fast
in your arms, you slid down the slipperiest mountain that was ever
made yet, I believe, and if it had been your only infant child, you
couldn't have held it firmer, nor regarded it more careful. Through
ups and downs, and thicks and smooths, you carried that jar or
followed it, and for the sake of doin' what you'd set your mind on you
came all the way to this place; to which, if it hadn't been for that
one idea, it isn't likely you'd ever dreamed of comin'. Now, Mr.
Dusante, we've all agreed on what we think is the right thing to do,
and you agreed with us, but I can see by your face that you're
disapp'inted. The thing you set out to do you haven't done; an' I'm
not goin' to have it to say to myself that you was the only one of all
of us that wasn't satisfied, and that I was the stumblin'-block that
stood in your way. So I'll back down from sayin' that I'd never touch
that jar again, and you can put it into my hands, as you set out to
do."
Mr. Dusante made no answer, but stepped forward, and taking Mrs.
Lecks's large brown and work-worn hand, he respectfully touched it
with his lips. It is not probable that Mrs. Lecks's hand had ever
before been kissed. It is not probable that she had ever seen any one
kiss the hand of another. But the hard sense and keen insight of that
independent country-woman made her instantly aware of what was meant
by that old-fashioned act of courteous homage. Her tall form grew
more erect; she slightly bowed her head; and received the salute with
a quiet dignity which would have become a duchess.
This little scene touched us all, and Mrs. Aleshine afterwards
informed me that for a moment she hadn't a dry eye in her head.
Mr. Dusante now handed the ginger-jar to Mrs. Lecks, who immediately
stepped towards Ruth and Lucille.
"You two young ones," she said, "can jus' take this jar, an' your
hands can be the first to lift off that paper of fish-hooks and take
out the money, which you will then divide among our good friends,
these sailor men."
Ruth and Lucille immediately sat down on the floor of the piazza and
the one emptied the board-money into the lap of the other, where it
was speedily divided into three equal portions, one of which was
placed in the hands of each mariner.
The men stood motionless, each holding his money in his open right
hand, and then the red-bearded coxswain spoke.
"It ain't for me, nor for Bill, nor for Jim nuther, to say a word agin
what you all think is right and square. We've stood by ye an' obeyed
orders since we first shipped on that island, an' we intend to do so
straight along, don't we, Jim an' Bill?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" said Jim and Bill, in hearty hoarse response.
"There's some of ye, 'specially Mrs. Aleshine, though meanin' no
disrespec' to anybody else, that we'd foller to the cross-trees of the
top-gallant mast of the tallest ship that ever floated in the middle
of the ragin'est typhoon that ever blowed. Wouldn't we, Jim and Bill?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" sang out Jim and Bill.
"But though we stand ready to obey orders," said the coxswain, "we
made up our minds, when we heard what was goin' to be done, that we'd
listen keerful fer one thing, an' we have listened keerful an' we
haven't heard that one thing, an' that thing was what we should do
with this money. An' not havin' heard it, an' so bein' under no orders
as to the spendin' of it, we take the money, an' thank you kindly, one
an all. Don't we, Jim and Bill?"
"Aye, aye, sir!" said Jim and Bill.
And into the pocket of each mariner clinked the money.
Mr. Dusante now took up the ginger-jar and approached Mrs. Lecks. "I
hope, madam," he said, "that as the subject of our little differences
has now been removed from this jar, you will consent to accept it from
me as a memento of the somewhat what remarkable experiences through
which it has accompanied us."
"Take it, sir?" said she. "To be sure I will. An' very glad am I to
get it. As long as I live it shall stand on the mantel-piece in my
parlor; an' when I die it shall be left to my heirs, to be taken care
of as long as it holds together."
Every reason for dissatisfaction having now been banished from our
little company, we all settled down for a season of enjoyment. Even
Mr. Enderton, who had found on the top shelf of a closet in his room a
lot of old leather-bound books, appeared to be in a state of perfect
content. To the Dusantes a residence in this absolutely rural portion
of our Middle States in the autumnal season was an entirely novel
experience. The crisp and invigorating air, the mists and the glowing
hues of the Indian summer time, the softness of the sunshine, and even
those masses of limbs and twigs which had already dropped their leaves
and spread themselves in a delicate network against the clear blue
sky, were all full of a novel beauty for these people who had lived so
long in tropical lands and among perennial foliage, and had never
known the delights of an American country life out of season. Having
enjoyed Mrs. Lecks's hospitality for a suitable period, they proposed
to that sensible woman that she should receive them as boarders until
the winter should set in; and to this practical proposition she gave a
ready assent, hoping that the really cold weather would long defer its
coming.
Ruth and I established ourselves on the same terms with Mrs. Aleshine.
A prolonged holiday from the labors of my business had been the object
of my attempted journey to Japan, and I could think of no place where
it would better please my young wife and myself to rest for a time
than here among these good friends.
A continual source of amusement to us were the acts and doings of Mrs.
Aleshine and her three sailor men. These bold mariners had enlisted,
soul and body, into the service of the thrifty housewife; and as it
was impossible to do anything in connection with the growing of the
onions until the desired fields should be acquired and the spring
should open, many and diverse were the labors at which the coxswain
and those two able-bodied seamen, Bill and Jim, set themselves, or
were set by Mrs. Aleshine.
The brilliantly painted front-door, which at first had excited the
good woman's ire, gradually came to command her admiration; and when
her sailor men had done everything else that they could in the barns,
the fields, or at the wood-pile, she gave them privilege to paint
various portions of her property, leaving designs and colors to their
own taste and fancy. Whether they milked the cows, cut the wood, or
painted the sides of the house, they always worked like good fellows,
and in nautical costume. They holy-stoned the front deck, as they
called the floor of the piazza, until it seemed sacrilegious to set
foot upon it; and when the house and the pale-fence had been suitably
painted, they allowed their fancies lofty flights in the decoration of
the smaller out-buildings and various objects in the grounds. One of
the men had a pocket-chart of the colors adopted by the different
steamship companies all over the world, and now smoke-houses,
corn-cribs, chicken-houses, and so on, down to pumps and
hitching-posts, were painted in great bands of blue-and-red and
white-and-black, arranged in alternating orders, until an observer
might have supposed that a commercial navy had been sunk beneath Mrs.
Aleshine's house-grounds, leaving nothing but its smoke-stacks
visible.
The greatest work of decoration, however, was reserved by the
red-bearded coxswain for himself, designed by his own brain, and
executed by his own hands. This was the tattooing of the barn. Around
this building, the sides of which were already of a color sufficiently
resembling a well-tanned human skin, the coxswain painted, in blue
spots resembling tattooing, an immense cable passing several times
about the structure, a sea-serpent almost as long as the cable, eight
anchors, two ships under full sail, with a variety of cannons and
flags which filled up all the remaining spaces. This great work was a
long time in execution, and before it was half finished its fame had
spread over the surrounding country.
The decoration of her premises was greatly enjoyed by Mrs. Aleshine.
"It gives 'em somethin' to do," said she, "till the onion-season comes
on; it makes 'em happy; an' the leaves an' flowers bein' pretty nigh
gone, I like to see the place blossomin' out as if it was a
cold-weather garden."
In the evenings, in the large kitchen, the sailor men danced their
hornpipes, and around the great fireplace they spun long yarns of haps
and mishaps on distant seas. Mrs. Aleshine always, and the rest of us
often, sat by the fire and enjoyed these nautical recreations.
"Havin' myself done housekeepin' in the torrid zone," she once said,
"a lot of the things they tell come home to me quite nat'ral. An' I'd
do anything in the world to make 'em content to live on dry land like
common Christians, instid of cavoortin' about on the pitchin' ocean,
runnin' into each other, an' springin' leaks with no likelihood of
findin' a furnished island at every p'int where their ship happened to
go down."
On one subject only did any trouble now come into the mind of Mrs.
Aleshine, and she once had a little talk with me in regard to it.
"I've been afeared from the very beginnin'," she said, "an' after a
while I more 'n half believed it, that Elizabeth Grootenheimer was
settin' her cap at the coxswain, so I just went to him an' I spoke to
him plain. 'This sort o' thing won't do at all,' says I; 'an' although
I haven't a doubt you see it for yourself, I thought it my dooty to
speak my mind about it. There's plenty of young women in this township
that would make you sailor men fust-rate wives, an' glad enough I'd be
to see you all married an' settled an' gone to farmin' right here
amongst us, but Elizabeth Grootenheimer won't do. Settin' aside
everythin' else, if there was to be any children, they might be
little coxswains, but they'd be Grootenheimers too; stone-dumb
Grootenheimers; an' I tell you plain that this county can't stand no
more Grootenheimers!' To which he says, says he, 'I want you to
understan', ma'am, that if ever me or Jim or Bill makes up our mind
to set sail for any sort of a weddin' port, we won't weigh anchor till
we've got our clearance papers from you.' By which he meant that he'd
ask my advice about courtin'. An' now my mind is easy, an' I can look
ahead with comfort to onion-time."
I found it necessary to go to Philadelphia for a day or two to attend
to some business matters; and the evening before I started, the
coxswain came to me and asked a favor for himself and his mates.
"It mayn't have passed out of your mind, sir," said he, "that when me
an' Jim an' Bill took that money that you all give us, which wasn't
zackly like prize-money, because the rest of the crew, to put it that
way, didn't get any, we listened keerful to see if anything was said
as to what we was to do with the money; an' nothin' bein' said, we
took it, an' we wasn't long makin' up our minds as to what we was
goin' to do with it. What we wanted to do was to put up some sort of
signal what couldn't get blowed away, or, more like, a kind of reg'lar
moniment as would make them that looked at it remember the rough
squalls an' the jolly larks we've gone through with together, an' it
was when we was talkin' about Mrs. Lecks bein' give' the ginger-jar to
put on her mantel-piece an' keep forever, that me an' Jim an' Bill we
said, says we, that Mrs. Aleshine should have a ginger-jar too, havin'
as much right to one as her mate, an' that that would be the
signal-flag or the moniment that we'd put up. Now, sir, as you're
goin' to town, we ask you to take this money, which is the whole lot
that was give' us, an' have a ginger-jar built, jus' the size an'
shape an' gen'ral trim of that other one, but of no pottery-stuff, for
you kin buy em' jus' like that, an' that ain't what we want. We want
her built of good oak, stout an' strong, with live-oak knees inside to
keep her stiff an' save her from bein' stove in, in case of a
collision. We want her bottom coppered up above the water-line with
real silver, an' we want a turtle-back deck with a round hatchway,
with a tight-fittin' hatch, jus' like common jars. We want her sides
caulked with oakum, an' well scraped an' painted, so that with water
inside of her or outside of her she won't leak. An' on the bottom of
her, so they kin be seen if she keels over, we wants the names of me,
an' Jim, an' Bill, which we've wrote on this piece of paper. An' on
her sides, below the water-line, on the silver copperin' we want the
names of all the rest of you, an' the latitood an' longitood of that
island, an' anythin' out of the logs that might 'a' been kep' by any
of you, as might help to be remembered the things what happened. An'
then, if there's any room left on the copperin' an' any money lef' to
pay for 'em, you might have cut on as many anchors, an' hearts, an'
bits of cable, an' such like suitable things as would fill up. An'
that jar we're goin' to give to Mrs. Aleshine to put on her
mantel-piece, to stay there as long as she lives, or anybody that
belongs to her. An', by George, sir!" he added behind his hand,
although there was nobody to hear, "if ever them two jars run into
each other, it won't be Mrs. Aleshine's that'll go down!"
I undertook this commission, and in due course of time there came to
the village the most astonishing ginger-jar that was ever built, and
which satisfied the three mariners in every particular. When it was
presented to Mrs. Aleshine, her admiration of this work of art, her
delight in its ownership, and her gratitude to the donors were alike
boundless.
"However could I have had the idee," said she privately to me, "that
any one of them noble sailor men could have brought himself down to
marry Elizabeth Grootenheimer!"
It was not long after this happy event that another great joy came to
Mrs. Aleshine. Her son returned from Japan. He had heard of the loss
of the steamer in which his mother and Mrs. Lecks had set sail, and
was in great trouble of mind until he received a letter from his
mother which brought him speedily home. He had no intention of
settling in Meadowville, but it had been a long time since he had seen
his mother.
He was a fine young man, handsome and well educated, and we were all
delighted with him; and in a very short time he and Lucille Dusante,
being the only young bachelor and maiden of the company, became so
intimate and super-friendly that it was easy to see that to Mrs.
Aleshine might come the unexpected rapture of eventually being the
mother of Lucille.
We staid much later at Meadowville than we had expected. Even after
the little hills and vales had been well covered with snow, sleighing
and coasting parties, led by the lively new-comer, offered
attractions, especially to Lucille, which bound us to the cheery homes
of Mrs. Lecks and Mrs. Aleshine. But, after a time, the Dusantes
considered it prudent to go to Florida for the rest of the winter; Mr.
Enderton had long since read all the books on his closet shelf and
departed for New York; and Ruth and I determined that we, too, must
move eastward.
But, before our little company separated, Mrs. Aleshine's son and
Lucille Dusante had settled it between them that when the spring-time
came they would set sail for a wedding port. This match was a highly
satisfactory one to all concerned, for Mr. Dusante could scarcely have
found a young brother-in-law who would make his sister so happy, and
who was, at the same time, so well fitted by disposition and previous
occupation to assist in his increasing business cares.
In the spring the Dusante family came North again and Lucille and her
lover were married; and then all of us, except Mr. Enderton, who had
obtained a most congenial position as assistant librarian in a public
institution seldom visited, gathered at Meadowville to spend a week or
two together before Ruth and I repaired to the New England town which
was to be our home; and the Dusante family, the young husband
included, set out on a tour, partly of business and partly of
pleasure, through Canada and the far North-west.
It was arranged that, whenever it should be possible, Lucille and Mrs.
Dusante should spend their summers at Meadowville; and as this would
also give her much of the society of her son, the heart of Mrs.
Aleshine could ask no more.
This visit to Meadowville was in the onion-season; and one morning
Ruth and I sat upon a fence and watched the three sailor men busily
at work. The soil looked so fine and smooth that one might almost
have supposed that it had been holy-stoned; and the three nautical
farmers, in their tight-waisted, loose-bottomed trousers, their
tarpaulin hats, and their wide-collared shirts, were seated on the
ground at different points, engrossed in the absorbing task of setting
out young onions as onions had never been set out before. All the
careful attention to patient minutiae which nautical handiwork had
taught them was now displayed in their new vocation. In a portion of
the field which had been first planted the onions had sprouted, and we
could see evidences of astonishing designs. Here were anchors in
onions; hearts in onions; brigs, barks, and schooners in onions; and
more things pertaining to ships, the heart's affections, and the
raging main outlined in onions than Ruth and I could give names to.
"It seems to me," said I, "that there must have been some sort of
enchantment in that little island in the Pacific, for in one way or
another it has made us all very happy."
"That is true," answered Ruth; "and, do you know, I believe the cause
of a great part of that happiness was the board-money in the
ginger-jar!"
THE END.